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ukulelevillainwrites · 9 months

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who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x fem reader

series content : enemies to friends to lovers, "i didn't know where else to go", angst and fluff, third person pov, she/her reader mc

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there <3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

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She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour.

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

#lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #x reader #lockwood and co imagine #who follows the rules

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oddinary4bts · 1 year

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The Forgotten Spaces | ch 6 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in previous/later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: mentions of sex/hot tub scene. hickey. angst (oops), might be a curse somewhere in there?

☆word count: 5.8k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: I am very sorry for all the angst that is to follow. Please don't hate me and please enjoy reading still haha! Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, July 8th

Waking up next to Jungkook feels weird. You reckon it might be because you haven’t slept a lot, and people are already moving around the cottage. You’ve refused to open your eyes so far, just because you’ve heard Jiho and Hobi whispering about you and Jungkook and you feel too much of a coward to admit you probably fucked things up with him already.

You think Jiho has taken a picture. Knowing her, she definitely has, and you wish you could just disappear for a time. You eventually force yourself to get up though, before Jungkook who is still dead asleep when you move to the kitchen. You suffer through Jiho’s questioning, but she quickly notices that you’re shut off, lost in thought and maybe even dabbling in a little regret too.

From there she shuts down everyone that asks questions, and by the time Jungkook gets up, everyone is just pretending they haven’t noticed that something definitely happened between the two of you.

Jungkook doesn’t really look at you. He eats breakfast chatting with Taehyung and Jin, avoiding you like the plague. You can tell you’ve hurt him, but you don’t know how to fix it. After all, you’ve never really been acquainted with feelings yourself. Especially not after your parents’ divorce.

The day feels heavy. It’s still warm outside, far too much, and a veil of dark clouds is looming over the horizon by the time you have to leave the cottage. Your mood imitates the weather, and you find yourself brooding more than you usually do.

You haven’t been able to talk to Jungkook yet. Mostly because he’s been avoiding you, yes. But also because you don’t know what to tell him.

“Hey, I’m shit at relationships and feelings, yesterday felt too real” sounds like too much of a confession. Even though it is the truth, you’re a coward, through and through.

Jiho’s been trying to get your mind off things. Texting you random stupid things, sending you memes as Hobi drives the four of you home. Heather is riding with Chaeyeon, Lance and Bridget this time around, so there’s a space between you and Jungkook. This time, when he falls asleep, he falls asleep with his head resting against the window, and not on your shoulder.

It starts raining halfway home, and Hobi drives slower, windshield wiper going on full blast. Jiho sends you yet another meme – something absurd you can’t bring yourself to find funny. It earns you a frown from your best friend, and a second later your phone vibrates in your hand.

[1:23 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re supposed to laugh☹️ [1:23 pm] You: i want to talk to Jungkook but idk what to tell him🫠 [1:25 pm] Jiho❣️: what really happened yesterday? i wanna help but it’s hard if idk [1:26 pm] You: we made out in the hot tub then fucked when we were supposed to sleep🤡 [1:26 pm] Jiho❣️: bruh i wish i had a make-out session in the hot tub [1:27 pm] You: 🙄🙄 [1:27 pm] Jiho❣️: sorry [1:27 pm] Jiho❣️: pretty sure more than just fucking happened considering both of you are upset [1:30 pm] You: i told him we shouldn’t have fucked after and he got upset [1:31 pm] Jiho❣️: bitch he’s into u ofc he’ll be upset [1:31 pm] You: u’re not helping [1:32 pm] Jiho❣️: are u into him?

You don’t know the answer. You ask yourself that question for the rest of the day, and you reckon you really don’t know. A lot changed between you and Jungkook over the weekend, but it’s hard to ignore the fact you have never really liked him. Because he was a dick and a bully to you for years.

It’s not something you think you can just forget because you’ve had sex with him once. And you don’t even know if you’d be interested in a relationship with him anyway. You’ve never been in a relationship before at all, and the thought of it terrifies you.

The thought of Jungkook being upset with you terrifies you in equal measures, but you refuse to admit it to yourself. Maybe because you’re trying to protect yourself. It’s hard to tell. You feel like you won’t be able to go through your feelings by yourself – they’re overwhelming, all of them.

Thinking about Jungkook is overwhelming. Thinking about dancing under the stars, about his scar, about the way he held onto you after he finished. Everything is overwhelming, and it makes you anxious. Jumpy, even, as you’re sitting in your room in your mother’s empty house later at night.

You’re halfway through a Studio Ghibli movie that was supposed to help you relax when you decide to text your therapist to schedule an appointment this week. It feels like the right thing to do – you know Mary has always been able to help you sort through your thoughts, even though you haven’t seen her in months.

You don’t expect her to reply tonight considering it’s late in the evening, but you linger on your messaging app. You can’t resist but scroll down a little, down to where Jungkook’s name lies on the screen. You click on the conversation, rereading the last messages he sent you from when he was drunk a little over a week ago. It makes your heart squeeze in your chest a little, and you scroll all the way up to the first time he texted you in April. You haven’t talked much at all, so it’s not like there’s a lot, but you can’t help yourself. You reread everything, entirely ignoring the movie playing on your laptop.

When you’re done reading, you find yourself typing a text even though you don’t know what to say. It seems your fingers know, because a moment later you find yourself staring at a fully formed sentence. It looks as if it’s taunting you, and you reread it so many times the words start to lose their meaning.

[9:47 pm] You: hey, i really enjoyed the weekend with u and i’m genuinely really sorry about yesterday…

It takes you all the courage your body can conjure up to press send. You immediately turn off your phone to focus on your laptop and on the movie, though it doesn’t really work at all. The anxiety the message has brought up in you makes the story of Totoro way too hard to follow, and you’re merely watching the scenes, barely even blinking.

When the movie ends, you get ready for bed. You haven’t dared check your phone yet, but a little bit of anticipation has been steadily building inside of you. Because you hope he’ll answer. You hope you won’t have to explain why you are the way that you are for things to go back to normal with him. Maybe because offering him your vulnerability feels like too much of a commitment for someone that doesn’t do commitments at all.

You know you’ll hate yourself at your internship the next day, but you can’t really sleep after you’ve settled under the comforter in your bed. It’s way past midnight when you finally gather the courage to look at your phone, teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

Your empty notification screen stares back at you, as if to say ‘you really thought that would change anything?’

You sigh, putting your phone away on your night table before turning on your side, grabbing a pillow to hold. It’s still raining outside, and your brain focuses on the splattering of rain on the panes of the window. You think maybe Jungkook went to bed early, considering you didn’t get a lot of sleep in the last two days. Maybe he’s asleep and will reply tomorrow…

You cling onto that hope as the sound of the rain finally lulls you to a troubled sleep.

Tuesday, July 10th

Jungkook has been in a shit mood. He knows why, and it’s strange to think that it’s not his leg for once. What makes it worse is that everyone around him knows too, thanks to the hickey on his neck.

And it’s only worse when you don’t show up to dance practice. Jiho mentions something about you being stuck at your internship, but Jungkook doesn’t ask. He feels like maybe he could text you to make sure you’re okay. His heart wants him to do it, but his mind is stronger.

And his mind has been winning the war against his heart so far. He won’t cave in now. But he’s still in a shit mood when he gets home after practice. It feels even worse when he sees Taehyung and Jo cuddled up on the couch, and Jimin sprawled up on the floor.

Jimin’s texting away on his phone, and Taehyung meets Jungkook’s gaze where he stopped by the door.

“Practice is already done?” Taehyung asks.

It brings Jimin and Jo’s attention to Jungkook. He just stands there for a time, not knowing what to say.

Not wanting to admit he wrapped dance practice earlier because he was pissed that you weren’t there.

“Yeah,” Jungkook lets out flatly. He finally starts moving again, aiming straight to the kitchen.

He misses the way Jo and Taehyung exchange a concerned look when he passes in front of them, or maybe he just ignores it. He’s been ignoring Jo since the weekend, because it feels like too much pressure to admit that her plan worked and failed in the same night.

Yes, he got to sleep with you, but he’d take it back if he could. Just so it wouldn’t lead to where you’re standing now. Because he’s never replied to your text on Sunday night. Maybe because it was too early, and seeing it just pissed him off more.

Or maybe he’s just trying to preserve himself because he’s realized being with you might be a lot more complicated than previously thought.

He’s pouring cereal in a bowl when he receives a text. He fears that he’s conjured you up for a few seconds, but then he reads the name at the head of the notification. Laura. He furrows his brows, reading her text a few times over to make sure he’s read well. On his fifth reading he reckons the words won’t change even if he keeps glaring at them.

And Laura doesn’t deserve him being upset with her too. Actually, he realizes she might be just what he needs – a distraction, perhaps. Because all he wants is to forget how it felt to be with you last Saturday. And it’s not even about the sex. No, the part that’s been sticking with him is the moment between the hot tub and the sex. When he laid his heart on the table for you.

Had he known you were going to step on it a little under an hour later, Jungkook knows he would have never asked you to dance. It was a stupid request, one that made everything too real.

He can’t really blame you for getting scared. Because he knows that’s what it is. You got scared when he told you you should have slept together before, and he’s been embarrassed since then. Because he said the words in the heat of the action, and even though he meant them – means them – he’d rather not have told you.

Because now when he thinks of you he’s embarrassed, upset, and of course he’s pissed. He’s been in a shit mood after all.

He sighs, pushing his hair back before moving to the fridge to grab the milk. He pours some in the bowl, before grabbing a spoon in the drawer and making his way to the table, where he sits to eat the cereals. He’s halfway through his bowl when he finally decides to open his phone and reply to Laura.

[9:01 pm] Laura: Hey, I gotta admit… I’d like to see you sometime this week? If you’re up for it ofc [9:08 pm] Jungkook: yes ofc! i’m free tmrw evening if u want😌

He doesn’t even know if he actually wants to see her. It makes him think of when he helped her with her camera last week. Laura is sweet. Cute and shy. She’s his type, he can’t deny it. But she’s nice, and he doesn’t think she deserves him using her as a distraction.

He reckons he’s a mess. You’ve been messing with his head far too much, and he doesn’t like that you have that power over him. He doesn’t want anyone to have that power over him.

Yet it’s relieving that for once his mind isn’t clouded with dark thoughts related to the accident. Because he can’t really think about the accident when you’re there whenever he closes his eyes. When he can almost feel your warmth lingering under his fingers, along his body. When he thinks he can still smell your shampoo, and feel your soft skin.

The way that he feels disgusts him. It makes him scoff, and he’s frowning as he finishes eating his cereals. The frown only relaxes when Laura texts him again.

[9:12 pm] Laura: I’m available too! There’s a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try? Is that something you’d like to do?

The way that she texts sounds formal. It makes him laugh, and he finds himself replying,

[9:13 pm] Jungkook: wait, so then it’s a date date uh? [9:16 pm] Laura: Maybe?☺️ [9:17 pm] Jungkook: is 7 o’clock good for u?

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He doesn’t usually do real dates, preferring hanging out at the girl’s place or inviting her over for one of the many parties they usually host. But he needs the distraction, right?

And when he’s texting Laura, he realizes he’s not thinking about you as much. It’s relieving after the last few days, and really, maybe he should just give her a chance.

Wednesday, July 11th

Your therapist works in a building that’s surprisingly not too far from your internship. You were able to schedule an appointment for tonight, which is a relief.

You’ve been thinking about this weekend so much you haven’t been able to focus at the internship. So much so that you were stuck at the office later yesterday. You didn’t mind having to skip the dance practice though – you were glad you didn’t have to see Jungkook.

But now, it’s time for you to sort out your thoughts about the whole situation. As much as pretending that everything is fine can be fun, you also hate the way your mind wanders every night. Especially considering Jungkook never replied to your text last Sunday.

You feel like he’s slipping through your fingers. And maybe he is, and maybe all of this will be for nothing.

Well, not necessarily nothing, since it’s always good to get a grip of yourself.

You sigh, and you walk into the building right before a rain shower starts. You’re relieved you were able to avoid getting wet, and you walk to the front desk to give your name to the lady. She puts you in the computer and then tells you to sit in the waiting room. You thank her, and you’ve barely had time to sit when Mary comes to get you.

Mary’s office hasn’t changed one bit since the last time you sought her help in February. You sit on the same couch, and she offers you a glass of water as she greets you. And then she asks what brings you there.

At that you still. You freeze, like a deer in headlights, because for a moment you’re terrified of having to say the words aloud. Terrified to admit you felt something last Saturday, and you think you’ve already screwed it all up. She listens to you intently, and you watch her scribble on her pad as you do so. You’re tempted to read what she’s written; you’ve always wondered what it is that therapists write on that notebook of theirs.

Is she piecing out your soul the way that you feel like she is?

You tell her everything. You tell her about how Jungkook came back into your life, differently this time. You tell her about the dance practices, and about your internship too. You tell her about last weekend, and you reveal every little dirty thought your brain dared to think. Mary doesn’t judge, and when you’re done, the only thing she says is, “You’re really good at psycho-analyzing yourself”.

You reckon she’s right. Because you know exactly why you acted the way that you did – with the example your parents gave you of love growing up, it’s hard to actually love. It’s even harder to deconstruct it, to deconstruct the fear until you can build yourself back into someone that can love.

It’s not that you think you can’t. You love Jiho, Jisung and their family plenty. But it’s different when it’s love with a big L. It’s always been, and you’ve never once really wanted to change it.

But now you do. You’ve been using your fears to protect yourself from others for far too long.

Mary makes a plan with you. Nothing too big, but she does suggest scheduling another appointment next week. Because you knowing what you need to do is half of the work, yes, but you still need to put it into practice. You agree with her, and you leave her office feeling lighter than you’ve felt in days.

The plan is for you to ask Jungkook if you can talk. You have the option to wait until tomorrow at dance practice, or to text him tonight, just so he knows in advance that you want to talk to him. Mary favoured the latter, saying that it’d give him time to prepare if he has things to tell you too.

You have no idea if he does, but the moment on Saturday felt heavy. You doubt there’s been nothing on his mind since then… because you were there. You know how it felt like, under the stars and after that. And the whole weekend, if you’re honest to yourself. You doubt he was immune to it.

You decide to wait a little before you text him. Just to make sure you really are going to do this. Because it feels like you’re standing at the top of a cliff, and you’ve never been a cliff diver. No, you’re far too afraid of heights. But the fact that you haven’t been able to get Jungkook off your mind tells you enough: you’d jump off the highest cliff for him.

Because if you don’t risk it, what is there to win?

So it’s later that night, when you’re rewatching your favourite anime, that you find yourself pausing the show. You go to your messaging app, and heart beating out of your chest you type a message. Something simple, something straight to the point. Because the fact he ignored your last message says enough: Jungkook won’t cave in for apologies, especially not over text.

You settle on,

[9:31 pm] You: hey jk! can we talk tmrw after practice?😌

You press send before you can convince yourself that this is not a good idea, and anxiety blooms in every inch of you. It’s a foreign feeling: you’ve never been so anxious when it came to someone else before in your life.

Watching your favourite anime after that has never been so hard.

Thursday, July 12th

You don’t want to go to practice. Everything feels like it’s going too fast and too slow at the same time: waiting for Jungkook to reply is excruciatingly long, and having to head to the dance studio is coming far too quickly.

Jungkook hasn’t replied. You texted Mary about it – she said to see in person if Jungkook wants to talk, but to also respect it if he doesn’t. It makes you far less hopeful than you were when you got out of her office yesterday, but you know she is right.

If this is his way of setting a boundary, you will have to respect. No matter how much it upsets you.

So it’s in an anxious state of mind that you make your way to the studio. You run into Jiho on the way, and you’re worrying at your bottom lip when she asks, “What’s wrong?”

Your steps falter a little, and you throw her a side glance. “Uh?”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

She knows that you used to see a therapist. But telling her that you saw Mary again about Jungkook feels like too big of a confession. It gives him too much power, and you’re not sure you’re ready for that. But you can tell some parts of the truth, can you?

“I’m going to try and talk to Jungkook tonight.”

Jiho remains suspiciously silent for a time. “Are you sure you want to talk to him?”

“I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “I just feel bad about this weekend.” Jiho offers you a sad smile, as your eyes fall to the concrete in front of you. “It’s just like, I don’t know, I liked where last weekend was going and I don’t want it to go back to the way things were before.” You pause, already feeling a little lighter now that you’ve started talking to your best friend. “Like I know I got scared and all, but he’s actually pretty decent?”

Now, Jiho’s smile has turned knowing, and she nudges you with her elbow. “I think I saw that coming from miles away but I didn’t want you to kill me.”

“Uh?” you let out, feeling a little confused.

“Everyone always thought you two were into each other,” she admits, and she laughs loudly when you push her. “Exactly why I didn’t want to tell you,” she says when her laughter subsides as you offer her a fake glare, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“I mean, I don’t even know if that’s where things are going,” you say. Your fear returns, and you’re back to nibbling on your lower lip. “Like, maybe I just fucked up too bad?”

“Did you talk since then?” Jiho asks.

You refuse to look at her when you reply. “No. He ignored my texts.”

From the corner of your eyes you see Jiho wince. Because she knows just as well as you what it probably means, and you don’t want to hear her say it.

“What did you tell him?”

You shrug your shoulders, trying to act as indifferent as possible. “Sunday I said that I was sorry, and I asked him if we could talk after dance practice yesterday.”

“And he said nothing?”

It’s rhetorical, so you remain silent. You’re reaching the bridge, and you know the conversation will soon come to an obligated end anyway.

“Babe…” Jiho lets out carefully. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him.”

It makes you scoff. “I’ll be chill, don’t worry.”

“I’m not saying you won’t be,” Jiho says. She grabs your arm to make you stop. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk.”

You free your arm from her grip, though she was already letting you go. “I’ll ask. We’ll see. I just want to clear the air.”

Jiho holds your defiant gaze for a while, before nodding once. “Alright. Sounds good. You let me know what he says.” She pauses for a few seconds, before adding, “And we’re still on for Thirsty Thursdays after that.”

Of course you are, and of course you’ll tell her. She’s your best friend after all, and you don’t remember a time when you really hid anything from her.

It doesn’t stop your heart from aching in your chest as you near the studio.

*****

Dance practice feels weird. You can’t help your eyes from diverting to Jungkook where he’s standing, next to the mirrors. He’s good at pretending he doesn’t feel your gaze on him, yet more than once you catch him already looking.

He looks good. He’s in paler clothes than his usual today – light blue jeans with an oversized white t-shirt – and his hair is ruffled by the way he keeps running his hands through it. He looks like he doesn’t care, almost. Because you can tell he’s anxious about something whenever you catch him pulling at his piercing, eyebrows slightly furrowed over his eyes.

You don’t know when you started being able to read him so well, but you surely can now.

He calls dance practice off earlier than his usual, and he still hasn’t really looked at you. You’re pretty sure everyone has noticed by now, especially considering the fact Jiho hasn’t really been subtle about it. She’s glaring at Jungkook most of the time, and he just shrugs his shoulders to her.

It’s weird. Something is off, but if you’re going to do this, you’ll do it, right?

It’s in that anxious state of mind that you approach him as everyone filters out. His hands are buried in his pockets and he’s leaning against the mirror. It’s like he’s waiting for you, and you figure maybe he did read your message after all.

The first few seconds of standing in front of him are far more awkward than anything you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. You don’t know what to say, don’t know where to start, and Jungkook’s head is hanging too low for you to be able to catch his gaze without invading his personal space. So you stay rooted in your spot, and you wait for him to look at you. It takes a while, but he eventually looks up.

You’re taken aback by the bitter annoyance his features hold. “What?”

You’ve written in your notes app what you wanted to say. You’ve even practiced it, but now you don’t remember a single word.

His eyes are sad. It’s the only thing that feels different on his features. The rest is all annoyed: his eyebrows are furrowed, the corners of his lips are pointing downwards. His shoulders are low, defeated, and he seems to realize it because he straightens and folds his arms on his chest.

“Uh,” you choke out against the anxiety that’s building up inside of you. “I just…”

“If you want to apologize again, I received your message last Sunday.”

You brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, before folding your arms on your chest too. “Why did you ignore me?”

He shrugs, shaking his head a little as he looks away. “I have nothing to tell you.”

“Jungkook, can you please not? We’re adults.”

“Yeah, and I’m choosing to not be talking with you. I’m sure you can respect that?”

You can. You definitely can. But at the same time you can’t. Not when he says it like that, like it’s some sort of an insult.

“Why are you overreacting like that?”

“Because I’m fucking embarrassed about last weekend!” he bursts. “I wish it never happened.”

It hurts. It stings and burns, and you hold your arms tighter against you. “You’re embarrassed? Is that why you said you wished we did it earlier?”

His gaze turns vicious, like he’s a viper waiting to strike. “See, that’s exactly why I do not want to talk to you. I don’t think we can be friends either. We’ve never been friends, like you oh so kindly reminded me, and that won’t change.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to relax, because this is not where you want this conversation to be going. “Listen,” you say after a few seconds of silence, “I really don’t want to be fighting with you. I just want to clear the air.”

“The air is cleared,” he says as you open your eyes to meet his fiery gaze again. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”

You’re struck then. You feel like you either have the choice to confess or to stick to your anger. And you try to confess, you really do. It’s not like with Jiho – Jungkook was part of the moment Saturday, he was there with you under the stars. So it shouldn’t be too hard to tell him, to say you got scared.

You open your mouth to say the words, and shut it immediately as he scoffs.

“See, I don’t even think we should be speaking at all,” he says. There’s a fraction of a second when you’re convinced you can read pain in his gaze before he continues, “I’m actually seeing Laura, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

Every word you’ve ever known vanishes from your mind. You just stand there for a moment, mouth hanging open, ears ringing as you look at him. You feel like you’re falling, or maybe you’re getting crushed. It’s hard to tell. It’s equally as hard to breathe, and your lungs burn as oxygen fills them.

“What?”

“I went on a date with Laura and I actually like the girl, I don’t want to fuck things up by talking to you,” he says, slowly, as if he needs to hammer every word into your head.

Laura? The girl from his class?

“Isn’t that the girl you told me you don’t care about?”

Your voice is somehow flat. Empty of the emotions it held just a few seconds ago.

“I went on a date with her and I like her,” he repeats as if you’re stupid and didn’t understand the first time around. As if your heart is not breaking in your chest, infinitely so.

You didn’t know how big your heart is until this moment, when every beat just breaks a little more, and all you can think to do is hold yourself tighter. As if it’ll stop the breaking.

“When?”

“Why do you want to know?” he asks, and his eyes fall shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You really do feel stupid then, stupid and foolish and everything in between. Like you’re a five-years-old that keeps messing her right from her left.

“I… how the fuck did you go on a date with her already, it’s been four days?”

“A lot can change in four days, Y/n,” he drawls.

You think your nails might be digging in your palms from how hard you’re clenching your fists. “Wow.”

The studio falls silent. It’s heavy, and maybe the silence is what’s been crushing you. Because you were expecting it – the moment you and Jungkook wouldn’t have anything else to tell each other. Because for everything you were willing to confess, now there’s just an empty spot inside of you.

You hold his gaze. He doesn’t look all that infuriated anymore. Defeated, yes, and maybe a little deflated. He looks like he didn’t expect the conversation to go there.

But you were right. Turns out you were right and you are too late. You can’t help but hate him for it.

“You don’t waste your time, do you?” you ask, and you scoff bitterly. “You fuck one girl and then another in just a few days. Suits you well.”

He rolls his eyes. “As I said, I wish we didn’t sleep together. If I could take last weekend back I would.” He shrugs then, shaking his head a little. “I’m sure you understand.”

You purse your lips, trying to keep them from trembling as you feel a lump form in your throat. “I can’t believe you’re already fucking some other girl.”

“Okay, Y/n, as if that’s going to change anything.”

You nod, and you find yourself fleeing his gaze. Because you don’t want him to see how you’re breaking inside. How every piece of you turns inside out, until you’re bleeding out standing there in front of him.

“Just…”

You think about the stars. You think about the way he led you in that dance, the way his eyes shone as he looked at you.

Jungkook is cataclysmic. He really is. And cataclysms are rarely good, are they? They can create, yes, the way the universe was once created, but they destroy. They destroy and destroy until nothing remains, until you just feel like you’re drowning and burning all at once.

“Save your breath,” he says. You think his gaze is shining again, and you don’t think it’s shining for the same reason that it was under the stars. “And I mean that in the most respectful way.”

“Right. As if that would ever sound respectful.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I’m done here.”

It occurs to you that you’re about to watch someone you care about walk out of your life again. You want to reach out and hold him, to tell him how you feel, to say how everything has started to hurt, but you can’t. You can just look at him, hold his gaze until he makes the decision to go.

He’s gone before you’ve truly assimilated just how bad everything went. Just how far south things went, and how fiercely everything burns. And you stand there for a long time, holding yourself, waiting for the heartbreak to stop. But the thing with heartbreak is that it never fully stops, does it? You just learn to deal with it better.

It’s weird. You never thought you could be cold and burning at the same time. But if this is hell, then hell has frozen over because you’re shivering, just holding yourself.

You feel like you’re sixteen again, like you watched your dad walk out of your life again. Maybe because Jungkook really was the cataclysm to you, and now you’re stuck with the aftermath.

But you don’t cry. No, you hold the tears in. Force them to dry without having rolled on your cheeks, convince them that you don’t care. It’s something you’re good at. Pretending. Because maybe you’ve been pretending you hate Jungkook for a lot longer than you thought. Maybe that’s the reason why it hurts so bad.

But you won’t cry, no. You won’t cry for Jeon Jungkook.

You get home later that night, after having walked through a daze for the whole evening. You’re drunk, and you’re still aching from the inside out. Your phone is in your hand, and you’ve been on Jungkook’s conversation for so long without blinking that your eyes have fully gone dry.

You watch the text you’ve just sent, the only proof that you ever cared about Jungkook.

[2:31 am] You: i reall y wish things ddn’t go so bad

It takes you three days to realize it never delivered.

Friday, July 20th

It takes Jungkook a little under two weeks to officialise things with Laura. It’s moving quickly, he’s aware of it, but he’s been trying to ignore the way he saw your heart break in your eyes. It seems the best way to do it is to watch feelings swell in someone else’s gaze, and so he asks Laura to be his girlfriend after their third date.

She says yes, beaming like she’s the sun personified.

Still, when Jungkook closes his eyes at night, all he sees is your heart breaking in your eyes.

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☆☆☆☆☆

yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh.. my bad. I really went far with this angst uh? What do we think? What's going to happen next?

Taglist (strike-through means dumblr is not letting me tag you):

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rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year

Note

Reader who befriends one of the STRAWHATS's enemies unknowingly

Firstly, I want to apologize, because I'm sure that you wanted a serious answer, but my brain saw the opportunity for comedy and I had to go for it.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy this.

"You cannot be serious (y/n)!"

"What? I am serious, he's alright when you're a part of his crew!" You held up your hands defensively as Nami all but jumped down your throat at your admittance of knowing the Foxy pirates. You'd been a part of his crew for a while before you eventually found your way onto the Straw Hat crew.

"I mean yeah, he's a cheating, low-life bastard who couldn't play an honest game if his life depended on it, but he was a fun guy when we weren't doing Davy Back Fights," you hazard a glance at the man in question to see him a miserable lump on the ground from your jabs. "Ah come on, lighten up! I'm just teasing!"

"You're just as heartless as always (y/n)," Hamburg couldn't help but do his little laugh as he watched all this go down.

"Damn straight I am! Just as competitive too! Y'all better bring your A-game if you want to win!"

"Quit being so chummy with them! It's weird!" Nami was openly cringing at your banter with them. "I can't believe you ever associated with them!"

"Oh relax, it's fine!" You waved her off, not caring too much about her complaints.

"(Y/N)~ I can't believe it's really you!" Porche ran over and threw herself at you, holding on for dear life, "I've missed you so much! It's been so much harder since you got taken! We didn't even need to cheat with you around!"

"You should have thought about that before losing the one game I didn't compete in. I still can't believe y'all lost like that, clearly you were all way too dependent on me being a hyper-competitive monster," despite your harsh words, you still chuckled and returned the hug. "But I suppose I missed you hacks too!"

Nami gagged at you being so affectionate. This was the worst. She would have preferred you to be besties with some marines to this. How could you be friends with such unpleasant people? Especially some sleazy old man like Foxy. Eww!

She sidled up to Luffy, who was watching you mingle with the opposing crew with a surprisingly tense expression, "We need to destroy them. Winning isn't enough."

He nodded resolutely, agreeing wordlessly with her plan. He couldn't risk them taking you, but he didn't want to deal with seeing them hang around you for even another second.

#yanderefangirl #one piece #one piece x reader #yandere one piece #yandere #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #platonic yandere #monkey d luffy #cat burglar nami #nami #this is so dumb i'm sorry lmao

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

Text

since so many of you wanted a part two to this fic:

"" please, could you write something were the reader is part of kipps crew and lockwood is like obsessed with her. anytime they encounter he goes out of his way to be nice to her and kipps finds it so weird because she is like is best friend or sister even. that would be so cool! also love the new things you’ve posted earlier!!! ""

a/n: i am here to deliver! i have to say, i did not expect many, if any, requests for a part two of this piece (named Anthony on my masterlist), but here you go! thank you all for your support and love on not just this piece, but my other fics i love you all <3

warnings: angst, brief mention of suicide (for a case) female reader (few pronouns used)

part one

Your day could not get any worse, not even if a ghost appeared out of nowhere and killed you. No, in fact, that would be preferable to having Kipps screaming in your face.

"I told you to stay away from him! And now you tell me that you want to join his agency? You have got to be kidding me. This is some kind of prank, right? Is Bobby in on it? Ned? Surely not Kat."

You can't bring yourself to look at the guy who you have relied on for most of your life. The guilt is tearing you apart.

"No, it's not a prank," you say. "But, I'm not happy here, Kipps. I feel so... constrained. I don't want to keep having to follow a system that is so pick-and-choose with what they do and who they send. I want action. I want freedom."

Kipps looks like he's going to tear his hair out. "Freedom? You won't be getting freedom when DEPRAC arrests Lockwood and his little friends, you right along with them, for breaking the rules! God, do you ever listen to me?"

It feels like your heart is sinking, attached to a heavy weight. "Do you listen to me? I've told you I'm not happy here. The team barely speaks to each other, and all we seem to be doing is trying to show up Lockwood, George, and Lucy, and that's not what all of this is meant to be about. What happened to saving the world, Kipps? Isn't that what you used to tell me we'd do?"

And there it is: the breaking point. You've never seen him look so hurt, so betrayed, but you feel the exact same. He was meant to be your biggest supporter, and he can't even do that. Instead, he's so caught up in his pride, his love for the Fittes agency over his love for you, that he won't acknowledge how you feel.

"Hand in your notice by the end of the day," he says, his tone hard and his teeth gritted. "I want you gone by the morning."

"Kipps -" you say, but he's already lost interest and is walking away.

Asshole, you think, but there's no malice to it.

You can only watch as he, the only family figure you ever had in your life, leaves you behind.

"Oh, (name), we didn't expect to see you so soon," Lucy says upon opening the front door of 35 Portland Row. "I've almost finished setting up your bed in the attic with me, but - Wait, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," you say, but it's not overly convincing. "Just thought I'd leave before I got caught up in any big cases."

"You fell out, didn't you?" She ushers you inside, softly shutting the door behind you. "(name), I'm sorry -"

"I'm fine, Lucy," you insist.

She nods, but the look on her face tells you everything. Even if she doesn't know you that well, she's a little worried. With an attempt at a comforting smile, she leads you up the stairs, pointing out the boys' bedrooms and the bathroom, along with a room that no one enters - "We've been in it before, but only because Lockwood let us. You'd best wait until he's comfortable with you going in before finding out what's in there." - and, then, finally the attic.

It's a big space, crowded with over-large furniture. A double bed in the centre of the wall on the right, a wardrobe over on the other wall near the window, and a dresser beside. A small door leads to a tiny, cramped bathroom. Your bed, a fold-up one with a mattress haphazardly thrown on it, is squished in between the door and the wardrobe and, as tightly-packed as everything is, you smile at the cosiness of it.

"I'll just finish up on your bed -"

"I can get it, Lucy," you say, dropping your bags down at the foot of the bed. "Thank you. Are Lockwood and George here? It's awfully quiet."

Lucy snorts. "No, they're out at the moment, doing something or other. Do you want me to go put some tea on?"

You manage a smile. "Yes, please."

As it turns out, Lucy makes nicer tea than Geroge, and she's also kind enough to give you a bigger mug, although there are a few chips on the top. You suppose that's the norm with most of their things.

It doesn't take long for Lockwood and George to return from whatever they were doing. They trudge into the kitchen, arguing about something, but stop short in the doorway. Lucy gets up from her seat, halting her conversation with you, to pour them some tea while you sit, clutching your mug close in both hands.

"(name)!" Lockwood says, plastering on his infamous smile. "I didn't know you were here."

George shuffles past Lockwood and reaches into a cupboard, grabbing a biscuit. "She wasn't meant to be here for another week or two. Isn't that how notices work?"

"Uh, well." You shrug awkwardly, opting to stare at the scribbles on the thinking cloth, as you've been told it's called. "Things changed."

"Kipps made her leave sooner," Lucy says, and though she's worded it a little more gently than you had while talking to her over tea, it still hurts to hear. "Fell out."

"Well, you're here now," Lockwood says cheerfully, sitting down at the head of the table, just diagonal from you. "You'll have none of that from us."

Soundlessly, you move a plate slightly to reveal in loopy handwriting: "Lockwood is a prick and I hate him" next to a poor drawing of his face with devil horns. You raise your eyebrows, but he only laughs.

"What actually happened?" George asks. He looks a little too eager.

You purse your lips. "Told Kipps I wanted to leave, gave him a load of solid reasons, and he shouted at me a bunch. It's whatever."

Lockwood is watching you carefully as if watching and waiting to catch the pieces of you when you inevitably break. You offer up the best smile you can muster, but it doesn't seem to convince him.

"I'm fine, I promise," you say. "What about you guys? Any interesting cases lately?"

"Well," Lockwood says. His usual expression has returned - the cocky grin and sparkling eyes - but there's something a little subdued about it. His eyes still haven't left you. "George and I have just come back from the Archives doing some research for a case we've got tonight -"

"You mean George did the research," George grumbles. "You sat and daydreamed the whole time."

Lockwood only rolls his eyes. "Either way, you're welcome to join us on the case tonight - we could use an extra pair of hands."

Sipping your tea, you shrug again. "Might as well, as long as you're all fine with it."

George looks a little apprehensive about it, but Lucy nods. "What do we know so far?" she asks.

"Ms Diven, the client we met with this morning," George clarifies, glancing at you, "told us that there's a presence in her house, something she can sense but can't see, obviously, and that it's causing trouble. Well, that leads us to believe it's a Type Two, but who?" A smile splits his face, clearly very in his element. "In the Archives, I found some information on previous owners of the house, but only one of them seemed worth noting." He slides a newspaper cutting onto the table.

"Heidi Kairn," Lucy reads. "But, who was she?"

"Famous singer in the forties," George says. "The industry messed her up. A lot of stuff went down, and she ended up..." He drew a finger across his throat. Everyone got the message. "She's the only notable death from that house."

"Any clue what the source could be?" Lockwood asks. You notice how his hand on the table has moved slightly closer to yours. "Surely there won't be anything left from when the death occurred."

George shrugs. "It could be anything. A floorboard, a piece of furniture. We'll have to scout it out when we're there."

"Well!" Lockwood grins widely. "I suppose we should get our equipment ready."

Staring up at the house in front of you, you can't help but feel guilty. Not even a whole day since leaving Fittes, since leaving Kipps, and already you're on a case. Maybe Kipps was right to feel betrayed.

A hand closes softly around yours. When you look, it's Lockwood, looking straight on at the house with a grin.

"It's still daylight, so we'll scout out the house, use our Talents to see if we can figure anything out, and do our usual setup: iron circles in the main rooms, temperature readings. In half an hour, we'll all meet up back here on the porch."

You have to admire the confidence he speaks with. Kipps, for all his pride, would shout orders and stay behind with a facade of confidence, but it was easy enough to hear the fear lingering in his words. But, Lockwood doesn't show fear. Whether he even feels it right now is beyond you.

"George, Lucy, you guys take the bottom floor. (name) and I will take the top."

Lucy looks like she's trying to suppress a smile, glancing between you, Lockwood, and your clasped hands. "Got it. See you guys soon. Come on, George."

The pair trudge into the house, immediately taking a right into what you assume is the living room.

"Are you alright?"

You look back at Lockwood. "Hmm?"

That careful look is back. "It wasn't your fault, you know, yours and Kipps' argument. If anything, it's mine."

"That doesn't matter right now," you say, but you appreciate his words nonetheless. "Come on, I'd like to get this case over with as soon as."

It appeared to be harder than you thought. Lockwood and Co, though using many Fittes techniques for their procedures, also did some things very differently. They used the Fittes grid technique for temperature readings, but where they placed their iron circles was entirely different from where you would've done so. And, while you were glad that orders weren't being shouted at you by someone who didn't have the full scope of what was going on, the silence made you uneasy. The investigation of the house took a lot less time than it would've at Fittes, and even though everything that needed to be done had been, you couldn't get that pit of dread out of your stomach.

It was a moderately sized house, not large in any sense, but grand enough to have guest bedrooms which, in your eyes, said enough. The rooms were all relatively simple, with plain-coloured walls and light and trodden carpets. There were two kids' bedrooms, both concerningly beige, and the bathroom was about the size of the kitchen back at Portland Row.

"You've got Sight, too, right?" Lockwood asks, opening the door to the master bedroom.

"Yeah. Not as good as my Touch, but strong enough."

"So you see that deathglow, too?"

You step into the room, only to stop short. Lockwood pulls a pair of sunglasses from his coat, placing them over his eyes. A deathglow hovers over the ground, blindingly bright in the growing darkness of the room.

"Sense anything?" Lockwood asks.

Shuffling back slightly, you touch your hand to the doorframe and open your senses.

Crying. Someone is sobbing hysterically as they run into the room, throwing themself onto the bed. There's a strong chemical-like smell, something that has your gut twisting. A faint figure, one you can barely see, pushes itself off the bed as horrid cries escape their lips. The sound is heart-wrenching. They reach for something on a dresser that is no longer there, clutching at their chest and putting a hand to their mouth. Shortly after, they collapse, seizing.

Gasping, you tear your hand from the doorframe, stumbling back. It hurts to breathe.

"Anthony," you manage. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

Lockwood's face appears before yours, hands gently touching your face as he repeats, over and over, "You're okay. You're safe. You're with me."

It's at times like this that you hate your Talent. Sometimes, Touch just gives you the echoes of the past you need to hear to locate a source or figure out who the Visitor really is, but, other times, it feels like you're being sucked back into the past. Everything, all the emotions, feel amplified.

"Hey, you're okay," Lockwood repeats. His forehead presses against yours as his dark eyes meet yours. His gaze is so reassuring that you can't look away. "We need to get back outside, tell the others whatever it is you've seen. Can you do that?"

Taking a deep breath, you nod.

"You don't have to continue with this case," he says. "Lucy, George, and I should be able to manage on our own."

"I'll be okay," you say, your voice quieter than you thought it'd be.

His eyes close momentarily, then his hands fall from your face and he steps back. "Come on," he says gently.

George and Lucy's findings are very limited. The temperatures in each of the rooms are relatively normal, except for the office which, judging from the layout of the house, is just beneath the room with the deathglow. Lucy had heard nothing out of the ordinary, not until the same moment you had used your Touch.

"Horrible crying," she says. "Full of pain. I couldn't make out any words. It was very faint."

"(name)?" George says. "What about you?"

You take a sip of tea from your flask to soothe your nerves. "The same, but I was dragged back to that moment, if you get what I mean. I could see her faintly - Heidi, that is. There was a really strong smell, something chemically, probably some kind of drug. I saw -" It takes you a moment to get the words out. "She overdosed in the master bedroom. As she... you know, she was holding something on her chest, a necklace, maybe."

Lockwood's hand closes around yours once more. You can't look at him, any of them. "You don't have to carry on with this case. That's a horrible thing to have to see."

"I've told you already, I'll be fine." Another sip of tea. "George, does that give you any clue what or where the source is?"

George takes a minute to think, biting down on a block of chocolate from Lucy's bag. "Well, it could well be a necklace. If I remember correctly, a lot of newspapers commented on her outfits a lot, and she wore the same necklace everywhere. A string of pearls, I think."

Lucy groans. "Yeah, because all that women cared about back then was what everyone wore." She breaks off another chunk of chocolate for herself. "Surely, she would've still been wearing the necklace when she was buried, or whatever. Why would it be in the house?"

"God knows," Lockwood says. "We're not here to figure that out. We're here to secure it and get rid of the Visitor."

You glance at the sky and then check your watch. Summer means that the days are longer, so Visitors take longer to gain strength. "Nine p.m. Getting dark."

Lockwood grins, and it helps ease you. "Let's go jewellery shopping."

A lantern on the dimmest light setting is placed in the master bedroom to give George some light as he scours the room for the suspected source.

It's better to keep light usage as low as possible, a fact you're more than aware of, but the darkness of the landing that seems to stretch on endlessly is making you anxious. Even with Lockwood to your right, and Lucy just behind, making sure nothing comes at George from inside the bedroom, you can't help but feel worried.

It takes all of your power to pull those emotions together and shove them deep, deep down. You can't afford for the Visitor to feed off of them.

"Ghost fog at the end of the hall," Lockwood announces. "George, you any closer to a source?"

"Not yet. I'm about to start prying up the floorboards. Luce, you have any gum? Miasma is starting to taste horrid."

There's a sound of crinkling wrappers, then silence again.

"Crying is back," Lucy says. Slowly, she draws her rapier, and the sound of the metal unsheathing gives you comfort. "Getting louder."

"There's a faint figure appearing," you say. "It's her."

The weight of the salt bomb in your hand is familiar, soothing. This is no different from every other case you've been on, it's just a different team.

Slowly, the ghost of Heidi Kairn becomes more and more visible. She wears a summer frock that reaches her knees, patterned with polka dots, and her hair reaches her shoulders, slightly curled and neatly styled. Her face is beautiful in a timeless sort of way. A string of pearls hangs around her neck, glittering in the other-light she produces.

For a moment, you believe she's harmless. She approaches curiously and cautiously, eyes doe-like. You don't want to hurt her. She's causing no trouble. She's so, so sad, and so lonely...

A shriek of rage pierces the air, and the ghost shoots towards you and Lockwood. Out of pure instinct, you throw the salt bomb, preventing her approach momentarily, and Lockwood keeps her back with a continuous movement of his rapier. His arm reaches out, slightly in front of you.

"I've found it!" George shouts.

"Well, get it out!" Lucy says, throwing another salt bomb at the ghost.

The ghost wails, floating around desperately to find a gap to dart through, but she's kept at bay by three rapiers and a few more salt bombs.

"My arm is stuck!" George says. "Lucy, help!"

Lucy hurries backwards, and Lockwood moves back to cover her space slightly. You throw another salt bomb, earning another shriek of anger.

Fighting Visitors is what you've spent most of your life doing. This is the easy part, for you. It takes almost no time for you to fall back into a routine of rapier manoeuvres and throwing salt bombs, and, soon enough, you and Lockwood are working in tandem.

"Got it!" Lucy says.

Heidi Kairn's ghost wails once more, darting straight for the master bedroom, but she never reaches it. She's cut down by two rapiers and before she can fully reform, her source is wrapped tightly in a silver net.

There's a moment of silence, and then Lockwood, Lucy, and George burst out into laughter. It's contagious and before long, you're laughing, too, leaning against the wall.

Already, they feel like family, and the realisation makes you smile even wider.

#lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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soupbabe · 7 months

Text

Live Action One Piece Characters Seeing Transmasc! Reader's Packer Falling Out

Featuring: Luffy, Nami, Buggy, Usopp

These are mostly just joke headcanons, but I've been thinking about it nonetheless. Trying to do a different format for scenarios like this, any feedback would be appreciated!

Warning: this is so stupid + it gets weird and suggestive in Buggy's section

The day you wanted to wear shorts was the day Luffy wanted to play tag around the Going Merry. Usually you'd politely decline, as when your captain wants to run around the ship, it gets intense. People get tripped over, belongings break, and dents get put into the walls. But this time Luffy stared directly at you with his big, brown, puppy dog eyes as he asked once more. "Please Y/n? I even got Nami to play, it won't be fun without you!"

His smile grew ever so mischievous as you caved in and agreed to his little game...

Monkey D. Luffy

- When he caught you, he practically tackled you to the ground (arms stretched around your body and head, as to soften the blow)

- And to your embarrassment, your homemade packer slipped out of your boxers and fell out of your pant leg

- While not the most detailed packer to exist, you certainly didn't think it was vague enough for Luffy to get up and fetch it for you

- "Hey, Y/n! I think you dropped something, what is it?" "Oh my god Luffy put that down right now. Wash your hands too."

- You wish you hit your head hard enough to cause short term memory loss

- Once you tell him, his eyes go wide and his mouth makes a small "o" shape as he tosses your packer back to you

- Luffy isn't as embarrassed as you could've been, but you both agree to never bring it up again

Nami

- Nami is one to also get competitive and play dirty, she uses her stealth to sneak up behind you and give you a good scare (and to make sure you're "it" now)

- What she didn't expect was to see her friend get react so clumsily that he stumbled and his dick and balls fall out

- She definitely noticed before you did, her eyes can't help but look at the silicone packer

- "Nami! You can't just scare a guy like that!" "...you dropped something."

- Her cheeks are a tinge of pink and your face is on fire as you hastily shove your packer into a pocket

- Though after the initial shock, she was able to laugh and tease you about the accident

- You gave her 100 beri to never talk about it ever again

Buggy the Clown

- Okay in this scenario, I do like to think about him just being a head and watching the game unfold

- Once he sees your packer fall out, he's losing it, everyone on the ship can hear him laughing and giving away your location

- "Oh- Oh my God this is too good! Even I haven't had this happen to me! What a fucking-" oh look at that. Said packer is in his mouth to shut him up.

- Wasn't the most ideal thing to shut him up with, but he got on your nerves and you needed a quick solution

- Buggy however is left red in the face: both out of anger and the fact that he has a dick in his mouth

- Not the way he wanted this to happen

- Once he's free from his makeshift gag, he's still going to be an ass and tease you about what he saw

- Though a deal has been struck so he wouldn't tell the others what would happen, unless he wants to be shut up again

Usopp

- He screams

- Usopp thought he hurt you when you two ran into each other, and seeing your...thing on the ground with you made him freak out

- Poor man thought he accidentally castrated you or something, maybe you too had the chop chop fruit?

- Either way you had to grab him by the shoulders and help him calm down before the crew thought he actually got hurt

- Honestly with Usopp, he makes it more awkward and weird than it needed to be

- He's understanding of what it is and how you don't always secure it properly, but man he's gonna have this memory burned into his mind

- He can't help but make awkward eye contact, his face burning every time he looks over at you

#one piece #one piece x reader #live action one piece #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #nami one piece #nami x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #usopp x reader #one piece usopp #opla x reader #x transgender reader #x transmasc reader

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steam-beasts · 3 months

Text

Scary! - short story

It was a bright and sunny at Arlesdale End. Theodore and Charles had brought the two little pups for a very special surprise.

However, the pups had to wait, so Toby's crew dropped Bruno and Tabitha off by the lake and let them play around while they went to fetch the surprise.

Now that they had open eyes, the two little babies were fascinated in everything! The grass, the water, the trees...

They rolled around in the grass and wrestled a bit until a little frog hopped out of the lake. Tabitha squealed and giggled, getting off her little brother to see it, Bruno wagged his little...tail??? As he too wanted to see the green little creature.

The frog croaked and looked up at the little tram with its doughy eyes, Tabitha stared back down and babbled with delight, ringing her little bell. Bruno giggled and cooed.

The frog remained still, and croaked at the big face staring down at it curiously.

The bushes rustled, and suddenly, a huge shadow loomed over the two. Bruno and Tabitha didn't notice, as they were fixated on the frog. The frog in question did notice the shadow, and hopped away with instinct. Tabitha chirped with disappointment as she watched it disappear. Bruno stopped giggling and looked disappointed, his tail stopped wiggling.

Where was Mr frog going? They wondered.

"Oh, Toby! Look at them!" A voice suddenly piped up. The pups froze, recognising the voice immediately.

"Th-They're...they're really here!" Said another voice. This one was also familiar...

Wait...

It's their mama and papa! They're back!

Bruno and Tabitha squeaked happily and quickly spun around to properly see their mother and father for the first time. But instead of mama and papa being there...

...it was two big scary beasts.

One looked like a giant version of Tabitha, but with sharp fangs, fiery yellow eyes, and big scary horns! Charles and Theodore were inside the creature's body. It must've eaten them! Bruno thought.

The other looked like Bruno, but more orange, and she had small horns with cow-like ears and blue eyes. She had weird claws on her paws.

Toby and Henrietta both smiled happily at their little pups, they were so happy to see that their eyes had opened.

"Come here, you two–" Toby tried reaching out a paw, but the pair recoiled back with high-pitched squeals and cries. Toby pulled back with a shocked look, Henrietta was the same. Tabitha and her brother backed up a bit more, shaking and squeaking in fear from the two scary monsters.

Charles frowned, a look of realisation dawned on his face "Oh dear..." he said "I...I think they're scared of you two"

"S-Scared?" Henrietta repeated quietly, her ears flattening, tears pricking her eyes. Toby whimpered, bringing up a paw to cover his horn.

"I-I didn't think our own pups would ever...be frightened of us" He said sadly, a guilty look on his face. Maybe they should've considered how the little ones would've reacted to their appearances...

Toby and Henrietta exchanged sad and guilty glances, backing away to give the little ones space.

Charles patted his side "It's ok, ol' boy–"

"It's NOT ok!!" Toby cut him off with a low, grieving snarl "Our own kids are AFRAID of me and Henrietta!! We're just..... big scary monsters to them..." he said sadly.

"This is their first time actually seeing you two. They are surprisingly smart for babies, so I suppose this wasn't what they expected you to look like" Theodore reasoned. The old couple just let out small cries and whines, Henrietta let the tears fall out while Toby tried holding them in.

Just then, Bruno and Tabitha suddenly came crawling out of the bushes, approaching the giant beasts. They both tensed up and remained still, not wanting to scare them further. Bruno carefully approached first;

He went up to Toby's paw and poked it before quickly jumping back. Seeing as nothing happened, the brakevan chirped at the old tram, feeling less afraid. Tabitha remained hesitant, going to investigate the giant Bruno-lookalike beast.

Charles watched and cooed "It's alright...this is your mama and papa". Bruno and Tabitha's faces lit up at the familiar words, any fear they had disappeared as they instantly began nuzzling against their parents' furry arms.

With tearful eyes, Toby and Henrietta picked up their young and made little chirping noises to them, which were mimicked by the other. Toby's tail wagged, as did Henrietta's.

They were finally together again.

#thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #monster engines #toby x henrietta #ttte oc #ttte tabitha #ttte bruno #short story #they finally see their parents!!#ttte toby #ttte henrietta

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littlegodzilla · 1 year

Text

Okay, okay, Who likes weird stories? Who likes the paranormal and the mysterious? Me! Who is incapable of writing anything short in his life? Me too!

Well, I love this request, all the mystery, the magic, the intrigue that this story can have, I wanted to do a one shot, at first, but I started writing and I was unable to stop. I'll post the first part, the story has a lot to offer yet, it's just a little taste of what can happen....

Hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

****************

Back to Our World.

Norman Reedus x Reader.

Part 1. Request.

Requested by @minervadashwood (thank you I love writing it!): maybe season 3 of the walking dead is shooting. reader and norman have had a love scene together, since then they've become like...idk fuck buddies? but reader has feelings for him. he'll be goofy and just say "i love you" and then laugh (like he does with andy?, so she knows he doesn't mean it. Perhaps late one night they are rehearsing an argument for the show,and they're the only people on the set. Then, the worst storm georgia has ever seen rolls in, and lightning strikes the set, the two of them get knocked out. when they wake up, they're dressed as their characters.

all the other actors are on set, but there's no crew. very weird. they try to chat with andy or melissa, but neither one of them respond to those names, the the others start to get suspiscious of reader and daryl. Like they have working cell phones (no service, but they light up and stuff). Reader has a tattoo on her arm that isn't visible on the show...stuff like that maybe?

anyway, they have to pretend to be daryl and reader's character to keep anyone from shooting them. so they're sharing a mattress at night, acting like a couple, etc.

Warnings: Eventual Smut. Fantasy. TWD Stuff. Some Comedy. Romance and fluff.

Words: 9000

*******************

The mattress creaks again and again with each thrust, each time the moans get louder, the echo of sweaty skins in a room enveloped in a warm, moist atmosphere until both bodies fall exhausted on the bed.

This has been going on since the end of The Walking Dead's first season. After the CDC episode, Daryl and your character had a torrid scene, wrapped in a lot of alcohol and remorse the next day, but the moment was intimate and sexually tense between you and the actor who plays Daryl, Norman Reedus. At first it didn't seem to change anything, but after a couple of weeks, Norman started texting you to propose talking after filming, going down town for lunch, or just clearing your mind from the whole day's work. You took those invitations as something between friends, something innocent, but then everything changed and one night your talk ended up in his trailer, and the two of you in his bed. After that night, there have been others, it's not something that happens every day, but the two of you seek each other out and accept each other's company assiduously. You never talked about it, even when the season ended you thought it would end, that it would not happen again, but it didn't, when you discovered that Norman kept writing you from time to time, asking you how you were and if you felt like seeing each other.

Things were still not exactly clear with your meetings, but you couldn't say no to him, you liked spending the day and nights with him, not only is he a great lover, Norman has proved that to you on more than one occasion, but he is also a good friend, he is funny and crazy at times, protective and confidant on many other occasions.

You have to admit that, perhaps unplanned, you've fallen a little in love with him.

Maybe a lot.

"Are you okay, honey?" his voice brings you back to that very moment. "Have I been too intense?"

"N-no, it's been great, as always." You mumble and look up at him with a shy smile. Norman smiles and pulls you to him, using his chest as a pillow.

"Good girl, you always know how to make me feel good." He jokes and you both laugh low.

You're struggling not to fall asleep, it's been a long day on the film set, the Georgia heat is taking its toll on all of you, plus all the hours doing and undoing the same takes until they come out right. The pleasant warmth of Norman's body, his comfort, his fingers brushing against your skin, are guiding you into a slow but pleasant slumber. Norman turns his head to look at you, your eyes are already closed, which makes him smile, his other hand strokes your hair, you open your eyes a little and he kisses your forehead.

"Rest, beautiful, I'm leaving now." He tells you releasing your body.

"Y-you can stay here..." You offer. You never stay in each other's trailer, always, after sex you say goodbye and go back to your trailers. It's not like your partners don't know what's going on, but you try to be discreet.

"No, I want you to rest." He leans over and kisses you on the head again. "I'll see you tomorrow on set."

One of the other stipulations of your encounters is that Norman never kisses you. No matter how intense, how needy and desperate the situation. His mouth never touches yours. He may touch the rest of your body, every crease and corner, but never your lips. You found it frustrating at first, now you've learned to accept it.

"Okay..." You whisper, curling up on the bed, covering your nakedness with the sheets as you watch him get dressed, he leaves his pants and slippers unfastened, his trailer is not far from yours, so he doesn't need to dress too much.

He gives you one last look, a smile and a wink before leaving the room, in the distance the echo of the door closing. You sigh long and close your eyes. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep, you're exhausted, but your mind wanders between confused and restless dreams.

*************

The third season begins in an exciting way, after losing the farm, your whole group has to go on the road, Lori is very pregnant and the group begins to doubt Rick's leadership. Daryl and your character are a couple now, their bond has been growing stronger since the night of the CDC and especially after the days at Greene Farm and the loss of Sophia. The scenes you're filming now are close to the prison, the house you'll have throughout that season, but it won't be easy for you to maintain. You're still starting and you know for sure it's going to be long months, with little sleep and too much repetition. But there's a reason you love acting and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

That morning, as you eat breakfast, you still feel a little sore from the night before, some glances fall on you, there are mischievous smiles, but no one says anything, they know you are shy about it. Sometimes you talk to Melissa or Lauren, you need to talk it over with someone, if only to clear your own mind.

"Don't get too attached to him." Lauren once advised you. "Remember, you're not his first 'friend' here." She gives you an intense look.

It's true, Norman and Laurie Holden also had their moment very early in the series. It was like an immediate connection between them, but it didn't last too long, they're good friends now, to be honest you don't know if they still see each other when he's not with you. You don't really want to know either, you live better in ignorance.

"I know, it's not like Norman is forcing me either..." You defended him.

"I'm just saying don't tell him anything about how you feel. Avoid hurting yourself further." He advises you and you take his advice.

Melissa didn't talk much, she was friends with both of you, possibly Norman's confidant too, if he ever had any doubts about your fuck buddy relationship. You still seek her advice from time to time, but you've learned to hide your feelings for Norman, or at least you hope you have.

"Good morning." You hear his voice, approaching towards the scene you are all in, he is already characterized as Daryl, some dirt on his skin, hair combed flat ironed, his skin already starting to acquire some sweat due to the climate of the area and the time he has been held in the makeup trailer. Your eyes roam his whole body, the movement of his step, his arms dancing on both sides of his body, his feet stepping hard, being dragged by the weight of his own body, you have always noticed that he walks with his right foot leaning slightly inwards, a small deviation that surely no one has detected, a small flaw, although Norman is far from being a perfect man. A smile comes across your face, a chuckle escapes you and that catches your companion's attention.

"Good morning." He greets you and you nod.

"Good morning." You reply, he walks over and holds out a bottle of water in his hand. "You should keep it to yourself, you're sweating more than I am." You try to joke and watch as he smiles and bites his tongue.

"I have another one for me, here, I don't want you to faint from the heat." He insists and the cool body of the bottle touches your face giving you goosebumps.

"Thank you." You accept the bottle, when you take it your fingers brush against each other.

"Good girl." He smiles and walks away to return with the rest of the team.

You feel yourself gasping for breath, he always has that effect on you. No matter what he does, Norman always disarms you even if he only brushes against you by accident. You shake your head trying to regain your composure, drink from the bottle and focus on your work.

The shots follow one after the other throughout the day, as a group, individually, with Norman, you stop for lunch, pick up where you left off, try to record the scenes that were strange, again, and then stop once more for a bite to eat. You're done for the day, which gives you a few hours of breathing room. Lauren smiles at you in greeting as she walks over to you and sits down next to you.

"What a day." You snort, exhausted.

"Yeah, I'm not quite used to the heat." You joke and laugh with her, you're not a fan of the sun either, nor the heat.

"Luckily we're done for the day."

"Yeah, how are you, I noticed you were a little lost this morning." She asks looking at you with some concern and you feel your cheeks burning.

"Have you noticed? Last night Norman and I were together..." You tell him. "I didn't expect anyone to notice..."

"It always happens to you after you've been with him, I start to get curious about his abilities." You know she means it as a joke and to tease you, but you can't help a tug of suspicion in your stomach. Still, you have no right to. You and Norman don't have an established relationship, so you couldn't stop them if it happened.

"He's there, I'm sure if you proposed he wouldn't give it much thought." You try to play along with his joke, but your voice wavers for a second.

"And it'd make me a shitty friend, plus Norman's not my type." She shrugs. "Have things changed between you?" she ventures to ask.

"No... I remember you were the one who told me not to say anything to him." You look at her curiously. "And I actually think it's for the best... I'll have fewer headaches. If I focus on it being a sexual-only relationship, that outside of that we're just friends... I don't feel as much anxiety." You try to convince yourself, Lauren looks at you wanting to believe it too.

"I think whatever you do it's going to hurt just the same...I know that's not great advice, I'm sorry."

"I consider you a good friend because you're always honest with me, and I appreciate that. I'm not going to get my hopes up about him, but I'm going to..."

"Who aren't you going to get your hopes up about?" You hear close to where you are and your heart stops for a second.

Norman is in front of you, playing with a finished water bottle in his hands, his eyes are dwarfed from the direct sun, but he has a curious look on his face. You're cut off at the drop of a hat, but Lauren speaks for you.

"We were talking about boys." She comments and that gets the actor's attention even more. "There's a guy who wants to date her." She lies and you open your eyes wide. "I was telling her to try it, that she might like it."

"Really?" Norman's voice sounds like a squeak. "Who is it? You hadn't told me anything."

"I didn't..." You stammer, but clear your throat, trying to appear normal. "I didn't think you cared."

"It's not that... well we're friends, I thought you had confidence for that..." He tries to justify himself.

"It's just that we haven't talked much yet... we're just getting to know each other." You lie to him too, you don't even know why you're playing along with Cohan, but the grimace of doubt on Norman's face forces you to lie.

"Okay..." It's the last thing he says before he walks away, leaving you alone again.

"Can you explain what that was about?" You ask your friend.

"I think Norman has gotten used to having you whenever he feels like it, you always go along with his plan, well maybe that he thinks you're no longer as available as he wants you to be... he moves things around."

"What if he moves them for the worse? I don't want to lose what we have either."

But Lauren doesn't respond, she just shrugs, leaving you there again, as she does have some more scene to shoot with her father and future husband. You smile, you like the story they are building for her character, Maggie, there is going to be a lot of drama for her, but she is still a strong character that is growing and changing with each new season. Your character has also changed since your first scene in Atlanta. You've gone from a scary woman to a strong, feisty woman, you've been taught how to shoot and fight and the dead have become your focus, as well as protecting those you now consider your family, of course. Plus having Daryl by your side, is a moral support your character needs to keep developing, you are also going to have ups and downs with some appearances like Merle and doubts in Daryl that will make them falter a bit, but you like the subplot they are forming for the two of you. You have to admit that at first it was a little scary being Daryl Dixon's girlfriend, everyone had accepted the redneck with their arms up in the air and at first your character was just the vixen who had dropped her panties for him. There was a lot of back and forth, awkward questions at conventions and really hairy situations on the internet, but as the episodes went on people came to accept what was being created and your relationship is now well received, although there are still misgivings on some sides.

That night you prepare for a quiet dinner in your caravan. You stopped filming a few hours ago. The skies in Georgia were getting rough and at that time of year it's best not to push your luck when a storm rolls in, so you stopped all filming and returned to your caravans. In the distance you hear the storm brewing as you settle into your couch, legs propped up on the cushion as you stir the food before you start. You hear knocking on the door of your trailer and you stand still for a moment, instinctively looking at your cell phone for a message from Norman, but there is nothing. The knocking is repeated, you leave your food on the table and get up, wiping your hands before opening the door. Norman is on the other side, chewing his lip several times, he's wearing his usual clothes, but between his hands he's wringing out what looks like his character's script.

"Norman?" You look at him in confusion.

"Did I catch you busy? I can come back another time."

"N-no I was just going to grab some dinner, nothing else, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just that I was going over the script between our characters and there are a couple of scenes I'd like to go over..."

"Okay... Now?" you're still a little confused, but he nods. If it's some method to get through the night with you, it's the first time he's used that tactic. It's not like he needs an excuse to show up there either, really. "It's okay, come in." You offer and leave the door open, walking back to your couch. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I had something to eat in my trailer before I came." He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Good, then I'll take my diner later."

"No, finish up, I came unannounced. I don't mind waiting." He says sincerely and stands up then points to your kitchen. "Can I grab a beer?"

"Yeah, sure, help yourself." You smile picking up your plate again.

You don't like beer, its bitter taste has always been unpleasant on your tongue, but since you started with the series you always have some in the fridge for when you have company, not only from Norman, also from your friends or when you have a birthday party or when the end of the season recording is near, to celebrate that the work is almost done. You like to watch Norman move naturally and normally around your 'house' knowing every nook and cranny, where things are, where you keep them and what he can and can't touch. Again he sits down next to you taking a swig of his beer and puts a juice next to your plate. You smile and your heart flips, maybe you wouldn't really give it a thought, but it's funny how much the man seems to know you.

"What is it?" You decide to cut through the silence, focus on why he's there with you.

"The scene?" he shakes his head as you nod. "I notice they're making Daryl very..." He remains quiet, searching for the word. "Social? My intention is to make him weird and distrustful, he may have loyalty to the group, but with his wariness, like in the early seasons, but since he's had a girlfriend they're making him a cheesy guy." He explains, you get a chuckle and he smiles amused. "No offense, I love spending time with you, honey, but I'm a guy from the mountains, an alpha male, a hunter, troubled, with a shitty past. You can't melt me like that." He jokes and your laughter grows louder.

"Oh forgive me, Mr. badass for turning you human." You joke once again, his sly grin charms you and always gives you goosebumps. "What's your plan?"

"I want him to love his family, his girl, but in his own way, I want to study the script with you and see how I can fit it in without making it too weird or cold... Does that make sense?"

"Okay, we can try a few scenes and see what we get out of it."

Norman seems content with your words. He takes one more drink of his beer, you're finishing your dinner, in the distance you can hear the thunder of the storm. You've never had a problem with them, you like them, the smell of wet grass has always relaxed you, but when the lights on your trailer flicker you can't help but worry.

"There's a good storm coming." Your coworker comments and you nod.

"Looks like it... it's not like it's the first time we've had to work in pouring rain." You say and he nods.

"Worst week of my life, I don't think I've ever had so much snot." He jokes and you laugh again.

"You were still the cutest redneck on the set." You poke him and he snorts in amusement.

"I love you too, honey." He says with a teasing tinge. "Shall we practice a little?" he offers and you nod.

Because the storm seems to be getting closer and closer, you decide to stay in your trailer to rehearse dialogue, after picking up all your dinner, you look up your own manuscript of your character so you can reply to his, to create the scene between you as best you can. When Norman starts talking you realize right away what he's referring to. Daryl has taken a drastic turn with his personality, you're sure people will like that he's more approachable, that he wants to take care of his friends and the place they now want to call home, but for you it's also hard to fit in that the hunter is all the time thinking about your character or talking about her, using all those affectionate nicknames. Corny, as Norman has defined it.

"Okay, I see where your concern lies." You tell him after rehearsing a few sentences.

"Right? That's not my Daryl... I don't know if I should talk to Greg and the others..." He comments scratching the back of his neck.

"Greg always listens to you when there's something about Daryl that worries you, maybe between the two of you you can find a balance."

"I'll talk to him first thing..." He nods, a loud rumble makes you both jump. The storm is over the recording area. "Maybe I should get back before it starts raining."

"Why don't you stay?" You invite him feeling your pulse quicken. "It could be dangerous..."

"Are you afraid I might get struck by lightning?" he says amused, but you're not amused.

The weather in that part of the state at that time of year can be unstable and dangerous, it's an area of possible hurricanes, flooding from big storms and some landslides, so Norman joking about a possible lightning strike hitting you might be more possible than hitting the lottery.

"I'm just saying stay over, you can use the couch, if you want..." You insist, Norman watches you carefully, sighs and opens the door to the caravan.

"Come on, you'll see, it's just a storm." He takes your hand and you both get out of the vehicle.

You regret having followed him the second your feet touch the ground, the place starts to get wet from a very fine rain that is shaken by a wind that is getting stronger and stronger, swirling your clothes and hair. The eye of the storm is right above you, the clouds, even though it is night, look completely black, lightning appears and disappears inside them, illuminating them, a whirlpool is forming right above the film set, those huge clouds seem to be creating the eye of the hurricane and fear takes hold of you. It's not a normal storm, it doesn't even look like a storm, it's more like it wants to absorb the place, but no one else has noticed, around you everything remains impassive, your companions are sleeping in their caravans, oblivious to the strong wind and the violent movement of all the objects around you. You look at Norman, his retort about there being nothing wrong with this storm has seemed to die in his mouth, his eyes are wide open, fixed on the cumulus clouds above you. The roar of thunder takes over the whole place, you jump in place when a bolt of lightning strikes directly on the ground, bursting the grass there into several pieces, creating a tiny crater. But it's not the only one, several bolts of lightning strike the ground around you, getting closer and closer. You look at Norman and hear the roar of thunder, not far away again.

"Norman!" you shout at the top of your lungs.

You reach out, wanting to grab his arm, to pull him out of the way, but you watch, helplessly, as the lightning flashes through his body, illuminating his insides like a light bulb. It passes through him completely, the electric sensation runs through every inch of his body until it is released through his fingertips, the discharge connects with your own fingers, your hand outstretched towards him receives the impact. The scream of pain dies into nothingness, the pain is intense and runs up and down you, you feel a burning sensation envelop you. You close your eyes, your body jerks and you feel yourself being pushed backwards. Before you hit the ground. You are already unconscious.

***************

You gasp loudly, opening your eyes with a start. You sit up, rubbing your body, looking for some sign on your skin, some high degree burn due to the reach of the lightning. That it was something impossible to happen. You plan to laugh in Norman's face as soon as you....

Norman.

You remember how the lightning struck his body, how it went through him like butter, you could see how his skin glowed, how it seemed to burn inside as you reached out to pull him out of the beam's path. You get up from the ground quickly, or at least as fast as your aching body allows you, the jolt you received was also violent, although it was not a direct hit, the force was also massive. You gasp looking around you, in search of your co-worker, but at the same time you want to find out what happened to the rest of the set, as you perfectly remember the lightning striking the ground uncontrollably. The fear that someone else might have been hurt shakes you.

But nothing.

Everything is fine, in fact the sky is clear, the heat is gradually taking over your skin, you hear the rustle of the birds that dawn along with the day, the earth is not wet, the craters created by the storm, don't exist, in front of you stands the prison, you are in the front yard, where all the recording equipment should be settled. But no one is there. A whimper not far from where you are catches your attention.

"My God, Norman!" you groan, running to him, kneeling beside him and helping him up from the ground, slowly. "Slowly, slowly..." You whisper and push the dirty strands of his hair away from his face, he grunts once again.

"What the fuck happened?" he snaps painfully and you deny. You don't quite know what to say.

"Do you remember the storm last night?" you try to inquire, he seems hesitant, but then hums a yes. "I think the lightning knocked us out and..." You gasp when Norman finally lifts his head. You swallow hard and scan his face in anguish.

His neck, and part of his jaw, are scarred by a rather nasty wound, it's the trace of the lightning. Where it entered, burning his skin, the shape of his jaw, going down the left side of his neck, getting lost inside his clothes, everything is a burn, you've heard and read about similar phenomena, marks left by lightning strikes on people, creating trees of light on their skin, but this is real now, it's not an article in a magazine, Norman's skin is decorated with that burn and it hurts just looking at it.

"My God..." You whisper without taking your eyes off him.

"Fuck, what happened to you?" he asks, worried.

To you? More like the question would be, what happened to him, but before you can open your mouth, Norman twists your head carefully and touches your neck. It doesn't hurt, but when his fingers touch your skin you feel it more sensitive than usual. Then you understand that you have a similar mark to his, the lightning also went through you, so it makes sense that you both have similar tattoos.

"Does it hurt?" You hear him ask you, but you shake your head.

"It's weird... it's like the whole area is numb." You say sincerely and touch his neck. "Does it hurt you?"

"No... I think my butt hurts more from the fall." He jokes and you can't help but laugh. "Sorry..." His apology makes you look at him confused. "You tried to warn me and I didn't listen... you're hurt because of me..."

"No, no... it's not your fault, it's a miracle we're both..."

"Hey, you two, is that how you stand guard? At least find yourselves a tower like Glenn and Maggie do." You hear not too far away.

You raise your heads at the same time, Andy isn't too far from where you guys are sitting on the ground. You're relieved to see that he's okay, that the storm passed without hurting anyone else, Andy is already dressed in his Rick clothes, which makes you think that it's late, that the shooting will start shortly and you're not ready yet.

"Shit, Norman, they're going to kill us." You say getting up and helping him up.

Your eyes then notice a detail that had gone unnoticed until now. Norman is wearing his Daryl clothes, the wing vest, his baggy pants, the red bandana in the back pocket of his pants, the hiking boots and... God, is that smell coming from him? You wrinkle your nose as you take a step back. Norman seems to notice and lifts his arm to sniff his own armpit.

"Hey, it's not me... well, it kinda is, but I showered yesterday, that smell isn't me." He defends himself by shaking his head.

You look around you at the side of the fence there are several extras disguised as zombies who keep panting and pushing against the metal barrier. The smell is coming from them, a mixture of blood and rotting flesh that turns your stomach.

"I think they've gone too far with the credibility of the dead..." You protest and Norman nods.

"Come on with the others, let's get something to eat before we get to filming."

"I think we should go to the hospital and get this looked at... I don't know if it's good..." You say shaking your head.

"If you guys aren't going to do your on-call shift, at least give us a heads up so someone can cover for you." Andy says when you reach his side.

"Sorry man, give me a moment and I'll get on it now, I need to get something to eat." Norman replies walking past.

"What?" asks the Brit with a frown.

"We had an accident last night with the storm, I think we're going to talk to Greg about letting us go to the hospital." You explain to Andy who opens his eyes wide.

"Who is Greg, what hospital do you intend to go to?" There is nervousness and disbelief in his voice.

"Look, Andy, I feel like a rag right now, I'm not in the mood for jokes." Norman speaks again and you watch silently as the other man's face doesn't improve.

"You called me Andy?"

"Well, okay; I got struck by fuckin' lightnin' tonight, my body hurts like hell, I just wanna eat somethin' and then get my fuckin' wound looked at, is that okay with ya, Rick?" he says with a growl at the end of the sentence, his southern accent coming out like every time he plays Daryl and you feel your core tighten at his angry tone.

"Okay, sorry, it's just... yeah, sure, go get something to eat." Andy mumbles, feeling a little uncomfortable at his partner's pissed off tone.

You look at Andrew apologetically and walk faster behind Norman to catch up, grab his hand and tug lightly to get his attention.

"Calm down, he's not to blame."

"I know, but did you see how he was looking at us? And who's Greg, really? I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now." He admits entering the cell area.

You follow him, the damp cold of the place welcomes you, something doesn't quite fit, where are the cameras? Where is the technical equipment? Your filming partners are there, but no one else, Melissa is preparing something to eat, Lauren is with Steven talking to the side, Emily with Chandler. They all seem immersed in their roles, they look at you as you enter and there is a smile on their mouths, they all say good morning to you, Norman stands there for a moment, he too has detected something that scolds him, you can tell by the way he frowns and purses his lips.

"Good morning lovebirds, would you like something to eat?" speaks Melissa.

"Thanks, but we're going to leave the set for a moment." You speak first, leaving Norman to continue thinking about what's bothering him.

"Off the set? Are you guys going out to explore? It seems to me that Rick wanted to clean up the area some more, find the cafeteria and the infirmary..." The white-haired woman comments and you frown.

Everything seems to follow the story line of the TV series, but on the other hand there are some differences that grate on your ear, technically when your characters make their way inside the prison, you already find the cafeteria and Hershel gets hurt, but here they are just gathering strength to continue exploring inside, they haven't found the prisoners who are still alive in there... you look sideways at Norman and realize that he has also discovered that detail. Something doesn't add up and you start to worry.

"Are you all right?" Emily walks over to you. "What happened to you?" she asks as she looks at the marks on your skin.

"Lightning struck us tonight." Norman replies. "We need someone to look at us and..." He falls silent as he sees they all look at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"What, what's wrong with your voice?" asks Melissa. "Since when do you talk like a city boy?"

The blood ices in your veins. You glance sideways at Norman who he seems to be holding his breath. God, there's something seriously wrong here. Norman snorts, fed up with the whole thing.

"What the fuck's wrong with y'all?"

"Ah, no, there it is, I thought so..." Melissa comments and goes on with what she's doing.

"But..."

"Daryl." You call out to him and he looks at you confused as your hand grips his arm. "Come with me for a moment, come on." You ask him and taking his hand, you walk away from the group, towards the cell area.

"What?"

"What? don't you think there's something strange here?"

"I'm not the only one who smells barbecue?"

"Yeah, that's... what? No… do you smell barbecue? Are you having a stroke?"

"That would make more sense than what's going on here."he grunts looking over your shoulder, toward the door. "Is it just me or is everyone acting really weird?"

"Yes! That's what I was trying to tell you." You fidget nervously. "Where are the filming people? Where's Greg or Angela? What about our trailers and the whole area for the technical crew personnel?" You list, he nods, reaches into his pants and pulls out his phone. "And you're dressed like Daryl, yesterday when you came to see me you were in your normal clothes."

"You're in your character's clothes too." He points grabbing the edge of your shirt. "Oh, and look at that." He lifts the shirt a little more looking at your hip.

"Norman, I don't think now is the best time..."

"It's not that, look." He insists and you look down.

What the hell? You quickly look for a mirror to look at your reflection in, lift up your two layers of t-shirts and discover that on your side, along your ribs towards your hip bone, is a long tattoo that has only been seen on your character on a few occasions, the first at the CDC on her night with Daryl, but you don't have any tattoos. You've always liked them, but you've never settled on any. Norman slowly approaches, his fingers caressing the shape of the Yggdrasil tree roots that stray down the waistband of your pants.

"It matches your new tattoo." He whispers, brushing against the lightning mark on your neck.

"Norman...you can't be getting horny now...seriously." You scold him and he growls low.

"It's not my fault, I always liked the way this tattoo looks on you, you should get a real one." He comments in your ear, his fingers rubbing the lines of the tattoo, but it doesn't fade.

"Well, it looks pretty real to me..." You turn away from him, his excitement turns to confusion and his growing erection stops.

"What's going on?" He looks at his phone again and discover there's no signal. "Shit, the lightning must have messed up the phone."

"I don't think that's it..." You whisper and look for yours, no signal either.

"Okay, say it, surprise me with your crazy idea." He says exasperated by the whole situation.

"What if we're inside the TV series? What if we're Daryl and my character for real? Or at least they think we are? What if they're all Rick, Carol, Maggie, Glenn..."

"No, are you kidding me? No." He shakes his head. "I can't be Daryl, I have no aim, I can't track, the wildest thing I've ever done in my life was cut Eye's fingernails and he almost took my eyes out. I can stick an arrow in my own foot." He protests like a little kid and you have to bite back a laugh.

That's right, Norman is the complete opposite of Daryl, and yes, you know his cat and you love how feral he becomes when his master tries to do anything to him. Norman shoots you a pointed look, you raise your hand in peace, nodding your head.

"I'm not like my character either, I've never fired a gun and I'm certainly not as agile, nor as flexible as her, I've never fought anyone hand to hand..."

"You seem pretty flexible to me..."

"Norman!" You scold him again. "Please take it seriously!"

"I can't! This is absurd! What do you expect us to do? Pretend we're our characters and what? Fight the dead? We know what's going to happen and there's nothing pretty."

"I know that, but we have to do something!" You're quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Norman is right, you guys know what's going to happen all season, all the partners you're going to lose, the new ones coming in... the Governor.... "This is crazy..."

"I think we should wake them all up, or maybe we should wake up ourselves, it's possible that with the lightning we've gone into a coma or something."

"And we're both living the same thing? Come on."

"Maybe you're a hallucination, or maybe I'm a hallucination..." You cut off what he's saying by giving him a gentle slap. Norman looks at you with wide eyes. "What was that all about!"

"Did that hurt? Then you're not a hallucination, and neither am I. There's something very ugly going on here. And we have to find out what it is."

"How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not, Norman! But I'm trying to be rational and think something logical. I want to go home, I want to go back to our world. I don't like zombies, I don't like having to kill or watch anyone die. Have you thought about the possibility that we could die here? If one of those things bites us or if someone shoots us..."

"Shit..." he gasps as he becomes aware of that. "We have to get out of here..."

"Is everything okay?"

You both jump at the same time, in front of your cell door is Melissa, or Carol, looking at you with concern, you throat clears and shake your head.

"A-all right, Mel... Carol, thank you." You smile.

"...Rick wants you to join him to go with the group..."

"Sure, we'll be right there." You nod and the woman disappears again.

"Are you crazy? What did we just talk about?"

"If we don't go they'll get suspicious!"

"Maybe we should tell them what's going on."

"Sure, like that will solve it... We just have to pretend a little, at night we'll leave here and look for some solution, maybe with a new storm we'll be home again."

"Do you really think it will be that easy?"

No, you don't think so, but you don't know what else to think either, you sigh giving him a few gentle taps on the chest and leave the cell to join the rest of the group. Andy or Rick, the truth makes it hard for you to call him by the name that should be his, Norman follows you a few steps behind, you notice him uncomfortable and nervous, which is good, it may seem that the prison situation is what makes him uneasy, although you know it's the situation in general, wanting to go home. Rick makes the group to go find the cafeteria, Norman, or Daryl, has to go with them and the actor tenses up like a rope, if they had to film that scene, he'd be the first to dive into the darkness of the hallway, but knowing he may not make it out of there, the fear, the caution, takes over.

"Okay, let's go." You say when Rick calls out your character's name.

"Daryl, I want you to go close to me, covering my right side." Rick continues to speak, Norman is clueless, looking around. "Daryl? Are you listening to me?" he looks at him confused, but Norman continues to ignore him.

"Daryl!" You nudge him, Norman quickly turns his head towards you.

"Shit, what? What's wrong?"

"Rick's talking to you..." You look at him intensely, Norman needs a second, but then nods and looks at the sheriff.

"Yeah, sure, sorry, it's just... I still can't believe we found this place." He apologizes to his friend and gives you a sidelong glance.

"Okay, let's get going, I want everyone on alert."

You start walking, Norman holds you for a moment and you look at him confused.

"I don't know if it's a good idea for you to go in..." He comments quietly.

"I know what you mean, but we have to follow the story line, what would happen if we don't?"

"We don't know and I'm not going to risk you to find out." he assures you, you frown slightly, surprised by his words.

"You have a boyfriend waiting for you, don't you? It would be hard to explain it to him if something happened to you."

"Boyfriend... Norman, I don't... that thing we were talking about with Lauren, it wasn't..."

"Guys." Rick's voice catches your attention. "Don't hang back, we have to do this."

"We're coming. We'll talk later." Norman says to you, grabbing the crossbow as he usually does on the shoot.

The darkness is total, you both walk with your hearts in your mouths, you play with the advantage factor that you know what's going to happen, but that doesn't make it any less scary. At any moment a small group of dead will corner you and force you to run, Hershel will get a bite and....

"Watch out!" You hear Rick.

Here they come. Rick looks at Norman, he loads the crossbow and fires. The shot is absurd, it doesn't even hit the zombie, the sheriff's look at him makes Norman cringe. But it's not his fault, he doesn't see shit there, he's practiced with the crossbow once, but he hasn't mastered it enough to be able to use it in a situation like that. He's not Daryl. Behind you you hear Hershel's scream, you quickly grab it leading the group towards the cafeteria to continue with the scene.

It's brutal and terrifying to watch Rick's axe cut through the flesh and bone of the old man's leg, splattering blood everywhere. On set things never have that much detail, there's always computer editing, a little fake blood and it changes to something else, but that's just too much. You feel your stomach turn and you look around for a place to throw up, but Norman keeps you at his side.

"Hang in there...remember we're not alone." He whispers in your ear.

Right, the prisoners, Axel, Oscar and the others... you take a deep breath to control your nausea, Norman then releases you to hold the crossbow and point it at your spotters.

"Rick..." he calls out to his friend, though he struggles not to use his real name.

There in front of you are the small group of prisoners, shocked by what they have witnessed, you would like to say something to keep them away from the group, but Hershel is priority and you take him back to the cells, as planned in the series. Everything is much more chaotic than you expect, the screams, the fear, the blood, the sobs and the confusion of Hershel's daughters, not to mention the inmates following you, Andrew, Rick, does not let them continue to the cells where the rest try to stabilize the old man. Norman, taking his role, aims at them with the crossbow, there he has better visibility and his aim is also better. You stay close too, with your hand on your gun, although you doubt you can use it.

"What's going on?" asks Tomas, a man with long black hair.

"That's not your problem. You're free now, you can leave if you want." Rick speaks.

"Leave? As soon as we set foot out there..."

"There's nothing out there anymore." Norman replies, following his character's line. "You're in luck, guys. Your second chance..."

"How long have you guys been locked in the cafeteria?"

"There was a riot, one of the cops locked you guys in there saying he'd go get reinforcements... I guess he didn't make it." Axel speaks.

"There's no one left, we've been cleaning out the prison, it's ours now." Rick explains and Tomas bristles like a cat.

"Ours? Seems to me that's not how this works..."

"I don't care what you think, we've fought those things out there, we've spilled blood. We're not turning this place over to you." Rick assures him with a dangerous tone.

"Si de verdad crees, huevón, que nos vamos a ir con las manos vacías…" (If you really think, asshole, that we're going to walk away empty-handed…) Tomas says, defiant again.

"Te conviene hacer caso a lo que este huevón te dice, o sufrirás las consecuencias."(You'd better listen to what this asshole tells you, or you'll suffer the consequences).Norman quickly replies in mumbled Spanish.

Again, all eyes fall on the Georgia redneck's interpreter. You have your eyes widened to the max, Norman clearly still doesn't realize what he's done.

"Do you know Spanish?" asks T-Dog.

"I was living in Spain for a while." Norman replies again and then something clicks in his mind. "Shit..." He whispers.

"In Spain? What did you miss there?" the man still can't believe it, though he's not the only one.

"I, uhm... well I... we went hunting. Yes, that... we were invited to hunt..." He lies horribly, you feel like digging a hole in the ground and crawling inside, Glenn rolls his eyes.

"Like there are no animals in Georgia..." He comments shaking his head.

"Never mind, if you guys want to stay in the prison there are other blocks you can use." Rick speaks again, catching the attention of the others. "We'll split the cafeteria supplies, of what's left, we'll take half."

"Half? Are you out of your mind?"

"Half, or we can leave you on the street and keep it all, you have a choice."

Your mind disconnects from the conversation, you've already heard that dialogue several times and you know how it's going to end, unfortunately that's not the only thing you and Norman know is going to happen, when you lead the group to the cafeteria again you're going to lose Big Tiny, you remember the actor who played that character, he was kind and nice, you liked him the days you were filming those scenes, thinking that here he's going to die for real makes your eyes fill with tears.

Everything becomes a huge I want and I can't, you would love to warn the prisoner to be careful, stay close to him to help him and protect him, but no matter what you do, his fate is cast and he is wounded before you can plan it, also Tomas shoots him without giving you time to think of something, you stay in shock, looking around you. The tension, the fear, the anxiety that runs and shakes your whole body is such that you feel short of breath. You can't, that world is not made for you, seen through the cameras, feeling the team always close, seeing the funny faces of the teammates and hearing from afar "Cut" and everyone coming back to life... God how you miss all that. You wish you could open your eyes and wake up, that it was all just a bad dream.

But you can't, and Tomas' blood crashes and stains your face as Rick is unceremonious and drives the machete into his head. You gasp from the shock of the impact of the blood, but you are unable to move. Your body doesn't react.

"Are you okay?" You hear Norman's voice next to you. You have returned to the cells, thinking about what you are going to do with Axel and Oscar. You are sitting on the front steps, Norman is carrying a bucket of water and wiping the remains of the blood from your face. "Hey, talk to me."

"I want to go home..." You whisper with a blank stare.

"I know, and we're going home, remember? You said so..." He tries to cheer you up by wiping the traces of blood off your cheek.

"What if we don't make it, what if we die here? Or this is our world now, there's no turning back, I don't know how to fight, I don't know how to shoot... and you..."

"Hey, hey, breathe, calm down." He holds your face in his hands. "No, okay? No. We'll get through this, we'll go home, everything will go on as usual. There's got to be an explanation why we're here..."

"Someone hates us?"

"And has theh done voodoo on us? It's very possible, but I am a beautiful person, I have no enemies." He jokes and a small giggle escapes you, he smiles at the sight of you laughing, strokes the tip of your nose and leans in, kissing the top of your head. "You can't leave me alone in this, honey, I need you." He confesses to you and you feel your heart race.

"O-okay... I'm sorry I got like this..."

"Come here." He whispers hugging you tightly.

You love it when Norman does that, you've always felt protected in his arms, you sigh and feel the anxiety and nerves subside a little, though they're still under your skin, alert.

"Norman..."

"Yes, babygirl?"

"You still smell terrible..." You comment and hear him laugh, breaking the hug.

"It's not my fault, it's part of the character."

"You've never smelled like that, you always smell like..." You see his smile grow wider and your cheeks redden, without realizing it you've given too much detail at best.

"Guys, let's step up the guards." Rick walks over to you and you're thankful the mood lightens. "Now that we've got Oscar and Axel hanging around, I don't want them coming anywhere near our ward, and until Hershel wakes up..."

"Sure, count on it." You nod your head.

"Are you okay?" the Sheriff asks you and you nod.

"Worried about Hershel, nothing more." You try to reassure him.

You all meet for dinner, Hershel is still unchanged in his condition, Carl has found the infirmary, Lori has gone ballistic, but everyone is relieved that they can take care of the man properly, you think about the infirmary, the library down the block too, maybe you could take a look there, look for a clue in the books about what has happened to you. You know it's crazy, but maybe there is some similar phenomenon that can help you. At dinner you don't talk too much, with the new provisions your stomachs are full, although you and Norman weren't as hungry as the rest. That night Maggie and Glenn offer to stand guard for you, the rest of you divide up your chores for the next day and go to your cells. You sit on your bunk and it feels hard and cold, colder than you remember, you hear footsteps and raise your head, Norman is at the door, watching you.

"Is something wrong?" You look at him worriedly, but he shakes his head, stepping into the cell.

"We're supposed to be our characters... who are boyfriend and girlfriend..."

"Norman... I really don't feel like sex today..." The anxiety is too strong in your body to think of anything else.

"I didn't... I didn't mean that, although I wouldn't say no, if you feel like a quick fuck..."

"Norman..."

"Okay, what I mean, is that... if we're boyfriend and girlfriend, it would look weird if we didn't share a cell, you know, like in the show..." He looks at you, raising his eyebrows, trying to sound coherent.

"Oh, that..." You look thoughtful as he sits down next to you, watching you silently.

"We can put the mattresses on the floor, so we can both sleep better, I promise I don't snore... at least not much." He jokes with the last part and you let out a chuckle.

"You're an idiot, but I think it's a good idea..." You nod.

Between the two of you arrange the room for the two of you, you cross the mattresses and then place the sheets on top, it's not cold but the damp prison environment makes a thin sheet nice to sleep on at night. You hesitate, you are nervous, after so much insisting, you are finally going to have Norman sleeping with you, you would like it to be in a completely different situation, but you plan to take advantage of it. You sit on the edge to take off your boots, putting them aside. Norman mimics you by sitting on the other side, he sheds his clothes and you watch him.

"Shit..." You whisper and reach out.

His scars, Daryl's scars, are there too, even the mark left by the arrow he put in himself, never seen again in the series, but Norman's body retains it. It's all so real.

"What's wrong?" he looks at you worriedly.

"It's the scars..."

"That too? I think someone hates me." He snorts in annoyance. You can't contain yourself and kiss the marks on his shoulder blade, Norman hums at the sensation. "If you don't want sex, don't provoke me...I'm an easy man."

"Sorry." You let out a giggle and settle back on your side of the bed.

You feel Norman do the same, the two of you lying on your backs, staring at the prison ceiling. Maybe it's all a dream. Maybe it will all be over tomorrow. Maybe you'll close your eyes and when you open them again you'll be home.

Maybe...

In the distance, a storm forms, thunder and lightning envelop the area, the black clouds have an unnatural greenish glow. Neither of you are aware of its existence, sleep has won you over and you are rocked in deep dreams.

To be continued...

See you in the next stories!

Taglist: @minervadashwood @green-eyedladywrites @livingdeadblondequeen @phoenixblack89

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #daryl dixon #ask me #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #ask request #eventual smut #fluff #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixon x reader

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thebunnednun · 1 month

Text

Buggy the Clown x Fem!Reader Enchanted meeting

This could go one of two ways. "We could flip the coin I'll be your slave."

Buckle your asses down. I know all the buggy fic writers have been busy and there isn’t much to work with in terms of material from the show rn.

But that isn’t gonna stop me!

Reader becomes a very naughty girl in this next scene.

Part 4: Here

-----------------Chapter 5: Unexpected dinner guests-------------------

The early morning air was thick with tension ( and sweat, ew.) as the crew gathered around the dimming fireplace, the warmth of the flames offering a fleeting sense of comfort amidst the looming threat of Buggy and his crew.

Conversation was pretty subdued, each of the members lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated the events of the day and the challenges that lay ahead.

Sanji being the doting momma he is, was making everyone a hearty breakfast even though no one really had much of an appetite. Luffy had gathered some plants and fruits from the nearby foliage and Nami was making some plans for repairs with Usopp and a new list of supplies.

Zoro sat in silence, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sharpened his swords with practiced precision. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and calculations, his senses on high alert for any sign of danger. He glanced over your form a few times before straightening himself out.

Robin, ever the strategist, poured over a map of the island, tracing her finger along its winding paths and hidden trails. Her keen intellect paired with Nami’s was going to be the foundation of getting off this weird island.

Chopper busied himself with tending to the fire, his small hands deftly arranging the logs to keep the flames burning bright. He helped you bring in water for everyone's baths this morning and was checking in on your mental state. The poor baby even offered himself as a cuddle buddy for you sometime in the night. You woke up with your hand absentmindedly rubbing his back not knowing if it was to sooth him or yourself. To remind yourself that you were safe, for now.

Brooks had kept watch and strummed a few light melodies to help the restlessness that ceased you and the others throughout the night. He had retired upstairs for some rest and you were relieved for him, honestly. You knew everyone was trying to be considerate of your feelings.

And you, (Y/n), sat quietly among your friends, mind racing with thoughts of Buggy and the looming confrontation that awaited you. The memory of his sinister grin sent a shiver down your spine, a chill that no amount of warmth from the fire could dispel. Everytime you close your eyes, that was all you saw before jerking awake.

Let’s cut to the chase, you didn’t even know why you found the clown attractive. As the author, I chalk it up to some childhood trauma but to each their own, ya know? Anyway, you couldn’t put your pretty little finger on it. The man literally tried to kill you over accidentally smooching his nose! Wait, speaking of that-

You were barely able to sleep at all these past two nights and it was weighing heavily on you. Thanks to Choppers help you were able to wash all the makeup and sweat off from the evening and had donned a nice pair of gray sweats and a fitted long sleeve black shirt. But, even after all of that, your mind kept replaying the events that led up to now. Especially when you first laid eyes on him.

Those cerulean eyes, blood red grin, and just how good it felt when he held you. The way his eyes traced over you while you were inside his embrace. The sparks that ran through your skin when he trailed his fingers up your arm and found purchase cradling your cheek. His eyes drinking in the sight of you as you became lost in his. How easily he lifted you up to the crowd and even when he carried you over to the center of the ring his hold was gentle yet firm.

You did want to see what else those hands could do.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. ‘Be fucking for real. This psycho wanted to kill me. Over what!? A kiss on the nose? Big deal!’ Big deal indeed. You resisted touching your lips to the memory of how soft his nose actually felt. Not to forget how cute he looked getting all flustered from the simple gesture. Which also led you to wonder if anyone had ever shown him affection like that before? [Maybe Shanks?~] The image of your deep red kiss imprinted into the center of his flashy nose made your heart stir.

Fuck you wanted to see more of his cute reactions. If this is what he did over a little kiss what would he do if you tied him down to your queen bed? Oh, speaking of that-

The cabin offered comfort as you furnished it with the belongings of the ship. The temporary home was beginning to feel permanent and you could tell it was grinding gears on Luffy. Now he had been pretty angry on behalf of the villagers and wanted to return to help them immediately.

The only issue was that the townspeople seemed to actually like ‘Buggy.’ Which was even fucking weirder. Apparently he often “performed” there for free making it one of the safer islands in the far east blue.

You didn’t even know if you could call this ocean part of the east blue. Not many charts or maps of it existed which was causing Robin and Nami mental distress.

Needless to say, Gumby was pretty on edge about the whole thing.

"We need a plan," you said finally, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. "We can't just sit here and wait for Buggy to come to us."

Zoro nodded in agreement, his gaze focused and determined. "Agreed. We need to be proactive if we're going to stand a chance against him."

Robin glanced up from the map, her expression thoughtful. "I suggest we fortify our defenses and set up traps along the perimeter of the cabin. That way, we'll be ready for any surprises he might throw our way."

Chopper nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. "And I can brew up some potions to help boost our strength and stamina! We'll need all the help we can get if we're going to take on Buggy and his crew."

Sanji agreed to help Usopp with repairs after you asked him nicely with Nami threatening him behind your back. Brooks was left alone out of respect for the more senior member of the group.

After breakfast, the crew fell into a flurry of activity, each member contributing their skills and expertise to the preparations. Zoro and Sanji set to work reinforcing the walls of the cabin, while Usopp and Nami fashioned crude but effective traps from the surrounding foliage.

Meanwhile, you and Robin scoured the area for potential supplies after setting your traps, reaching out to passing authorities and sailors for assistance in dealing with Buggy. The response was mixed, with some offering their emotional support while others turned a blind eye to your plight.

But despite the challenges and setbacks, the crew remained determined as they faced the looming threat of Buggy and his crew. As the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a golden afternoon glow over the island, the stage was set for a showdown unlike any other, and the crew of the Straw Hat Pirates were determined to emerge victorious.

As the preparations continued, you felt a responsibility to express your thanks. "Alright, listen up, everyone," you declared, your voice ringing out with authority as you addressed the crew. "We're not going to let some two-bit clown pirate intimidate us. We've faced far worse than Buggy and his crew, and we've always come out on top."

Your words were met with cheers and nods of agreement from your companions, their determination mirrored in their eyes.

"Now let's show them what we're made of," Luffy continued, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And remember, no matter what happens out there, we've got each other's backs. That's what makes us the greatest crew on the Grand Line!"

With renewed determination, the crew set to work with renewed vigor, their spirits lifted by the inspiring words and unwavering confidence. You slipped on some sneakers and grabbed your bag of farming tools. Today was going to be productive come rain or murderous blue haired, seafoam green eyes, well built, six foot tall clowns with sickeningly sexy smiles.

‘Damn, you thirsty bitch, priorities!!’

The sun continued to warm your cold bones, you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm swell within you. This wasn’t sooo bad. And with that thought in mind, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead with courage, cunning, and a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Usopp and Sanji ventured down to the river to scavenge for materials to repair the damaged ship, while Zoro, true to form, managed to get himself lost in the dense undergrowth once again.

"Where's that mossy bastard gone off to this time?" Sanji grumbled, his brow furrowed in frustration as he scanned the surrounding foliage for any sign of Zoro.

“WHY, did you let him go in the first place!”

Usopp shrugged, his eyes wide with apprehension. "Who knows with him? We'll just have to keep searching until we find him."

Meanwhile, Robin and Chopper had ventured back out into the town to find a library or bookstore, leaving Nami and Luffy to keep an eye on the cabin and its surroundings. But as the hours passed and there was still no sign of Zoro, Nami's patience began to wear thin.

"That idiot better not have gotten himself into trouble," she muttered, her hands clenched into fists as she paced back and forth in front of the cabin.

Luffy, ever the optimist, grinned widely as he watched Nami's pacing with amusement. "Don't worry, Nami! Zoro can handle himself. He's probably just taking a nap somewhere."

But just as Nami was about to launch into a tirade about the moss-headed swordsman's sense of direction, your voice cut through the air.

“You guys don’t need to babysit me. I know you don’t wanna leave me alone and I was scared. But, it would be worse if Zoro was lost for two days again.” Nami nodded and sighed, “We could pick up Robin and Chopper before searching the trees again. He better not have gotten captured.” They left with Luffy giving you a tight hug before disappearing.

You honestly needed that time alone. The ground was soft enough for you to kneel and plant the different seeds as you pleased. You worked in silence mostly though. But you did take a moment to bring a little lunch to Sanji and Usopp which they were very thankful for, especially Sanji. The man practically shot you with the hearts in his eyes.

At some point, you had gone around the side of the cabin while the guys were still mending the sides of the ship. You could hear rustling from behind and you stopped to focus your gaze into the greenery behind you. However, nothing and no one had appeared so you continued with your planting. Which is why you ignored the next rustling sound until you felt a pair of human eyes trained on your back.

“Back again already Moss stone?”

But instead of an enemy, a familiar figure emerged from the foliage, his flamboyant attire and smug grin made your eyes hurt immediately.

He had ditched the captain hat. With a swift motion, he cast aside the iconic captain's hat, letting it tumble to the ground. However, instead of abandoning his pirate flair entirely, he retained the striped bandana wrapped snugly around his head. The vibrant hues of his appearance were unmistakable - vivid red lips contrasting against wisps of cerulean blue hair, framed by piercing emerald eyes. There stood none other than Buggy the Clown.

As you faced off against the notorious pirate, your grip on your shovel tightened, and your eyes narrowed with suspicion. A myriad of questions raced through your mind, each demanding answers that only Buggy himself could provide.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that something dangerous lurked beneath his playful demeanor. Buggy's smile, which usually spread from ear to ear, was peculiarly closed-lipped, and he remained silent for a few moments, studying you with a curious expression.

You could sense the tension in the air, and you knew that this encounter could go either way. What caught you off guard was the deep cherry kiss still outlined on his nose. Finally, he offered a small wave in greeting, which did nothing to put you at ease.

"What do you want, Buggy?" you finally demanded, your voice sharp with contempt.

Buggy raised his hands in a placating gesture, his grin widening as he took a step forward. "Now, now, princess, there's no need for hostility," he said, his voice dripping with false charm. "I've come to talk to your lovely captain. It seems we have some unfinished business to discuss."

You scoffed, gaze cold as you glared at the clown pirate. "I highly doubt Luffy has anything to discuss with you, Buggy. Now leave before things get uglier."

His face darkened for a moment, but Buggy merely chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he turned his attention to you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"(Y/n), my dear. That’s your name right? Ya know, I’m actually delighted to see you again," he purred, his voice oozing with false sweetness as he sauntered towards you. "I must say, I've been quite curious about you ever since our little encounter at the big top. Tell me, what possessed you to plant such a bold kiss on my nose?"

You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing at the corners of your lips as you regarded the clown pirate. "Oh, you know me, Buggy," you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to plant one on the most infamous nose in the Grand Line."

Buggy chuckled, his grimm grin widening at your boldness. "Ah, I see. Well, you certainly have a way with words, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't let you off the hook that easily. You see, I have a proposition for you."

Before you could respond, Buggy lunged forward, his hand outstretched as he attempted to grab you. But you were too quick for him, sidestepping his clumsy attack and smashing the head of your shovel down on his cranium. The clown almost stood up after the first hit, but you kept on with your tirade until he was on his knees.

"Not so fast, Bozo!" your voice was laced with determination as you summoned your powers. With a flick of your wrist, you sent a wave of energy towards Buggy, enveloping him in a shimmering aura.

Buggy's eyes widened in shock as he felt himself shrinking down to size, his cries of protest drowned out by the sound of the repairs. Within moments, he was so small you would step on him if his outfit wasn’t so flashy. Quickly, you emptied a mason jar from your gardening bag and Buggy found himself trapped inside, his flamboyant attire dirty and his dignity shattered.

You grinned triumphantly as you held the jar up to eye level, your victory complete. "Oh, how the turn tables," you said, your voice filled with satisfaction. "Now it's time for you to listen to what I have to say." You plopped the screaming specimen into your bag carefully. Finally, after almost three days of torment you finally held the object of your nightmares. You decided to add air holes later seeing how the angry little elf was banging on the container furiously.

With Buggy safely contained inside your bag, you turned your attention back to the cabin, eager to fix that clowns attitude. Usopp and Sanji didn’t stop working which meant they hadn't even heard your small fight. Brooks was still asleep, you think. So, you’d have to be quick.

Heart pounding and cheeks flushed with excitement, you hastily drew your bag up to your chest. Buggy's jar made a muffled clicking sound barely registering over the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m going to bed until dinner!” Sanji waved at you and you curtseyed before running inside. With a quick glance around to ensure that no one had witnessed your victory, you darted inside the cabin while giggling like a mad woman.

But as you bounded up the stairs to the second floor, your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter with Buggy had left you feeling both exhilarated and flustered, the memory of his piercing gaze and wicked grin lingering in the back of your mind. I mean, your powers weren’t permanent if you didn’t control your emotions. There was no telling what that tall ass clown would do to your cute little plump ass if he escaped.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts as you reached the top of the stairs. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, the image of Buggy trapped inside the mason jar danced tantalizingly at the edges of your consciousness, sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Hey, (Y/n), what's got you all worked up?" Brooks' voice interrupted your thoughts, his sockets raised in curiosity as he watched you enter the room. He had startled you in the hallway after the staircase in a pink fuzzy bathrobe and matching slippers.

You forced a smile, trying to appear calm and collected despite the turmoil raging inside you. "Oh, nothing much," you replied nonchalantly, though your heart still raced with adrenaline. "Just had a little run-in with some bugs, that's all."

Some tall, dark, sexy bugs.

Brooks' sockets widened in surprise, his expression mirroring the mix of shock and awe that you felt. "Bug, you say?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You shrugged modestly. "It was nothing, really," you said, trying to downplay your accomplishment. "Just a stroke of luck, I suppose." You excused yourself to your room and quietly locked the door. And as you stood against your bedroom door, you couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence and determination wash over you.

But deep down, you knew that it was more than just luck. It was your quick thinking and resourcefulness that had allowed you to outmaneuver Buggy. If you weren’t aware of your surroundings you may not be here right now. ‘Sanji and Usopp wouldn’t have even heard me.’ A weight settling in your stomach as the realization sank in. With a heavy heart, you gravitated towards your bed, seeking solace in its familiarity.

You laid on top of your bed for a few moments. Mainly to calm your heart down from pounding out of your chest. Your nerves were shot. Gripping your fingers into the comforter you held tight as though the earth was tipping over and you would fall into the other side if you didn't. ‘I am safe here, I’m safe here, I am safe,’ you whispered into your mattress like a mantra. You slowly turned your head towards your bag before taking the jar out and setting it on your bed.

Buggy looked a little disheveled but otherwise fine. However, the hate in his green orbs was loud and clear. The insults started almost immediately and you wondered how a man so small could still be so loud. You didn’t respond, though. Just staring at him through your long lashes before he quieted down.

Then it was just the two of you gazing at each other in the soft afternoon light.

“Are you done staring yet, princes?” he finally spoke with the left corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. You thunked the glass with your middle finger causing him to go stumbling back into the jar. You’d give Buggy this: The clown knew how to work your last damn nerves.

“What?! Did ya get flustered?~”As Buggy taunted and teased, you couldn't help but fire back with your own brand of sarcasm, refusing to let his words get under your skin. His attempts to rile you up only fueled your determination to give as good as you got, matching his barbs with quick retorts and sassy comebacks.

"Why do you even want me anyway, huh?" Buggy quipped, his voice laced with amusement as he eyed you from inside the jar. "I'm not exactly your typical catch, you know."

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll to the back of your head and keep them there. "Oh, I don't know," you replied, feigning innocence as you reached for your art supplies. "Maybe I just have a thing for clowns with oversized egos…"

“...and noses.”

Buggy chuckled, though there was a hint of insecurity in his eyes as he glanced down at his nose. "And what's with that nose of yours, anyway?" you continued, unable to resist questioning his apparent insecurity. "Are you compensating for something?"

He bristled at your remark, but before he could respond, you distracted him by pulling out your sketchbook and pencils. "I think I'll capture this moment for posterity," you said, your voice dripping with glee as you began to sketch his likeness.

Buggy watched with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance as you worked, occasionally making lewd comments about your outfit from that night. Each time he did, you shook the jar, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. “STOP THAT SHIT!” You shook the jar again until he was

As the afternoon wore on, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about the man trapped inside the jar. What was the deal with him anyway? You poked little holes at the top for him to breathe and dropped bits of bread into the jar all the while trying to engage him in conversation and banter.

Buggy actually looked rather grateful,”Yeah, those shit heads didn’t feed me the last time.” Your eyes widened in surprise at the notion but as he explained you could see why. “Sanji at least gave you an orange and you were being a pretty big jerk.” He shrugged and swung one booted foot over the other. “What kind’ve shithead brings smoke bombs to a fight with a fish man?” His comment made you chuckle and he paused his eating to observe you.

You were sketching him again before holding the jar up to your eyes. “Ya know, I think I have an idea.” And then, feeling a sudden surge of curiosity, you decided to grow him to the size of a doll.

Buggy's eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly found himself bigger but with you towering over him, his usual cold gaze replaced by a sense of vulnerability. But before he could protest, you picked him up, being careful not to squish him. “Can you stop being fucking creepy for ten minutes!”

You ignored his whining and began to poke and tickle his body. Thinking about it, Buggy was about the same size as a water bottle now. You wanted to take his bandana off to see what his hair looked like but you didn’t want to hurt him. “ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!” Finding consciousness, you paused your touching to look up at him again.

“Mm?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, unpleased by your behavior. “Ya know, you're like, really weird. That’s a lot coming from me.” Feeling vengeful, whisked him away into your closet, revealing a secret dollhouse hidden away in the corner. Upon seeing it, Buggy began to fail and kick as he screamed, “NO (Y/N) DON’T EVEN FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT YOU-”

Let’s just say his protests fell on deaf ears as you placed him inside the dollhouse, a smirk playing on your lips as you closed the door behind him. "Now, now, Buggy," you said, your voice tinged with amusement. "I think it's time for you to learn a lesson in humility."

Buggy was beside himself. “What kinda sick sadistic shit is this!” His pride was wounded by your actions. "Why are you doing this to me?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration.

You shrugged, unable to hide the satisfaction in your voice. "Consider it a lesson in empathy," you replied, your tone firm but gentle. "Maybe now you'll think twice before you go around terrorizing innocent people."

Buggy's expression softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "Fine," he grumbled, though there was a hint of resignation in his voice. "But if I were my normal size, I'd spank your ass raw for this."

You laughed, shaking your head at his bravado. "Sure you would, Buggy," you said, your voice teasing as you turned to leave the room. "Sure you would."

Just as you were about to sit down, there was a knock on the door. Sanji poked his head in, his eyebrows raised inquisitively. "Supper's ready, (Y/n)," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity as to why you were in the closet. "Are you coming?"

You nodded, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you glanced back at the doll house "I'll be right there," you replied, trying to hide the smirk on your face. As you locked the closet door behind you, you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Buggy trapped inside the dollhouse, his indignant protests muffled by the closed door.

Satisfied with your prank, you made your way to the dining area where Sanji had prepared supper for everyone.

As you sat down at the table, you couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Surely Buggy wouldn't be able to escape the dollhouse, right?

But as supper progressed and the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind. What if he did manage to get out? What if one of the others saw him?

WHAT IF HE TELLS THEM ABOUT THE DOLLHOUSE!

Just as the thought crossed your mind, Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Robin returned from their search for Zoro, their faces drawn with worry. Sanji and Usopp, along with Brooks, excused themselves from the table to go look for their missing crewmate, leaving you alone with the others.

As you tried to focus on the dinner conversation, your mind kept drifting back to the closet and the trapped clown inside. You knew you had to go check on him, but you couldn't risk anyone else seeing him. “Hey y’all I’m gonna take a waz, be back!”

Finally, unable to ignore the nagging feeling any longer, you excused yourself from the table and hurried back to your room. But when you opened the closet door, your heart sank as you realized that Buggy was nowhere to be found.

Panic surged through you immediately as a cold sweat looking through the closet into the open space of your room. As you frantically searched from the desk into the bedframe there was no sign of him. You cursed under your breath, realizing that he must have escaped during supper.

With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you knew you had to find him before anyone else did. But where could he have gone? And how were you going to explain his presence if anyone asked?

Desperate to avoid detection, you began to search every nook and cranny of the cabin, your heart pounding with fear and anxiety. But as the minutes ticked by and the search proved fruitless, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over you.

What if you couldn't find him in time? And what if someone else did?

As you raced against the clock, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences if Buggy was discovered. But despite the fear that gripped you, you knew that you had to find him before it was too late.

With a sinking feeling in your chest, you continued to search every corner of the cabin, desperate to find any trace of Buggy. Just as you were about to give up hope, your eyes fell upon a small figure crouched beneath the dining table.

It was Buggy, his eyes wide with fear as he stared up at you.

Just staring at each other

Prolonged eye contact

Without a second thought, you scooped him up in your hands and held him close to your chest, hoping to hide him from view.

Feeling the warmth of your body against him, Buggy squirmed in discomfort, but you held him tightly, determined to keep him hidden. As you settled back into your seat, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. With each passing moment, the tension grew thicker, threatening to suffocate you. But you pushed aside your fears, determined to enjoy the meal and the company of your friends.

However, as the conversation turned to lighter topics, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Buggy's presence weighed heavily on your mind, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

Just as you were about to excuse yourself from the table, you felt a sharp jab against your side. Glancing down, you realized that Buggy was trying to wriggle free from your grasp. With a panicked squeak, you quickly readjusted your grip, dropping him inside your cleavage. You could see his pale face turn redder than his lipstick as he pushed against the soft flesh that caged him.

Bold, aren't we?

"Shh, quiet down," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "We don't want anyone to find you."

Buggy scowled up at you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and indignation. "Let me go, you insolent wench!" he hissed, his voice filled with venom.

You rolled your eyes, unimpressed by his theatrics. "Not a chance," you retorted, your tone in a harsh whisper. "You're staying right here until I figure out what to do with you."

With a huff of annoyance, Buggy crossed his arms over his chest, sulking like a petulant child. But despite his protests, you held him firmly in place, determined to keep him hidden until dinner was over. With Buggy safely tucked away, you could focus on finishing your food without any distractions.

As the meal came to a close, you excused yourself from the table, citing the need to use the bathroom. With Buggy safely tucked away inside your blouse, you hurried back to your room, hoping to have a moment of peace and quiet.

But as you entered the room and closed the door behind you, you looked down inside your blouse to your cleavage and was met with Buggy's furious glare. Scooping him out, you placed the flustered man onto your bed and sat on the opposed end. "How dare you treat me like some toy!" he spat, his voice laced with anger.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Listen, Buggy, I'm sorry for trapping you like that, but I can't risk anyone finding out about you," you explained, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Buggy's scowl deepened, but you could see the fear lurking behind his eyes. "And what if they do find out?" he demanded, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But before you could come up with an answer, a knock sounded at the door, interrupting your conversation.

"Hey, (Y/n), everything alright in there?" It was Robin’s voice, tinged with concern.

You cursed under your breath, realizing that you didn't have much time to come up with a plan. With a resigned sigh, you turned back to Buggy, a determined glint in your eyes.

"We'll talk about this later," you said firmly, before dropping him back into your bra and rushing to answer the door. But as you did, you couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

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Please check out my other works and leave feedback! It really helps and I love interacting in the comments. Find me on ao3 @TheBunnednun too!

Watch out for some new fics comming out this week. First and foremost, my Mihawk x maid spicy story.

See you in the next one my loves!!~ <3333

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