#shyreader

In the dim haze of a crowded bar somewhere in Europe, two soldiers from different worlds find themselves drawn to one another. She’s quiet and careful. He’s bold and charming. But in a war-torn moment suspended in time, a single spark threatens to change everything.

Pairing: Babe Heffron x Reader

Word Count: ~3,300

Genre: Fluff with a tinge of spice and flirtation

Setting: A crowded bar in Europe, early 1945

Note || My boy Babe isn’t holding back here—and honestly, can you blame him? Surrounded by war, cold, and chaos, he’s got no time to waste. With a little help from our resident troublemaker Wild Bill.

gotxpenny's masterlist band of brothers masterlist

The bar was loud, warm with laughter and the clink of glasses, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder in celebration. It smelled like cheap beer and the kind of sweat earned from surviving one more day. Somewhere in some nameless town in Europe, war had taken a night off.

Babe Heffron sat at a table with a few of his Easy Company boys—Guarnere was already halfway to drunk, and Luz was making some joke that had Roe grinning in a way he rarely did. Babe leaned back in his chair, half-listening. His sleeves were rolled up, red hair tousled from running a hand through it too many times. He liked nights like these—when they could pretend, just a little, that they were young men instead of soldiers.

But lately, even pretending took more work.

He'd spent the months after Eindhoven just trying to feel normal again. Recovery, they called it—like there was a fix for the kind of shit he’d seen. Like you could patch up a soul with bandages and bourbon. Half the time he’d just sat in silence, chain-smoking, his fingers twitching for a weapon that wasn’t there. The rest of the time, he thought about Philly. About home. About what it would feel like to walk down a street without expecting a shell to fall. About what kind of man he’d be if he weren’t sitting in another European bar soaked in cheap booze and survivor’s guilt.

The war had aged him. Fast. But he still wasn’t used to it. Twenty-one and already so fucking tired.

And then she walked in. Small. Quiet. Sharp eyes scanning the room like she regretted stepping foot in it already. She moved like she didn’t want to be seen, but Babe saw her anyway—really saw her.

She was surrounded by the taller men around her, all from another unit, judging by the way they talked and didn’t acknowledge anyone from Easy. She barely came up to one’s shoulder, swallowed by them all as they made their way to the bar. 

She walked just slightly behind them, shoulders tense, head down—but her eyes kept flicking up, watchful, as if she didn’t trust the room. And maybe she shouldn’t. She was the only woman here.

Babe sat forward, straightening instinctively. His drink forgotten. His gaze locked.

There was something about her, something so jarring in this landscape of smoke and noise and testosterone. She didn’t belong, not here, not among the men drunk off relief and reckless bravado. She was something other. Something softer. Something quiet. 

“Jesus, Heffron,” Guarnere muttered with a laugh, “Wipe your chin, you’re starin’ like you’ve never seen a girl before.”

Babe didn’t answer. 

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t move until the woman stepped up to the bar and perched carefully on a stool, pulling her cap off and smoothing down her hair before ordering a Coke—a Coke, for Christ’s sake. The bartender barely looked at her. Her presence felt like a whisper in a room full of shouts.

He was already getting up.

“Here he goes,” Guarnere muttered to Luz, who gave an exaggerated wolf whistle that Babe ignored, “She’s from anotha’ unit,” Guarnere called after him, grinning, “Try not to scare her off!”

He made his way through the crowd like it didn’t matter, like he had every reason in the world to be walking over to her—because right then, it felt like he did.

At the bar, he slipped into the space beside her and rapped the counter twice with his knuckles, “Beer,” he said to the bartender, then glanced down. She was sipping on a glass bottle of Coke, her fingers wrapped tightly around it like it was a lifeline. When she noticed him beside her, she flicked her eyes up just for a second.

He caught it. That glimpse. Just for a second—he caught a flicker of something in her eyes. That shy little look before she turned her head again. Surprise. Caution. 

He liked it.

Didn’t move away.

Didn’t stop looking.

“Didn’t expect to see a lady in a place like this,” he said, casually, “Especially not drinkin’ a Coke. You celebratin’ or hidin’?”

She blinked, lips parted like the question caught her off guard, “I...don’t really drink,” she said quietly.

Her voice was soft. Nervous. Babe liked it more than he should have.

“You always this quiet, or is it just me?” he asked, tilting his head.

And just like that, something flickered in her again. Like a match struck just once in the dark. And Babe? He leaned into the spark. She looked at him then. Really looked. And God help her, it was his smile that did it. That confident, crooked little grin that said he knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed it.

His hair was the first thing she noticed—bright copper in the low light, messy in a way that looked deliberate, like he’d just run his hands through it before swaggering over. His face was all sharp lines softened only by the faint flush in his cheeks, and that damn smile—cocky, effortless, like he’d never had to work hard to get attention.

He stood close, not too close, but enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. He smelled like smoke and whiskey and something else—something earthy, like worn canvas and adrenaline. And she hated the way it made her heart jump.

He wasn’t tall—not like the men in her company—but something about him made her feel even smaller. Maybe it was the way he held himself. Like he belonged in every room. Like the war hadn’t knocked him off balance the way it had her.

Or maybe it was just the way he looked at her—steadily, confidently, like he’d already decided she was something he wanted.

And no one had ever looked at her like that.

Not like she was a woman. Not like she was worth noticing.

It scared her. It thrilled her.

And when he grinned again, head tilted slightly like he could read her whole goddamn soul, she had to glance down, just to breathe, “I don’t talk to a lot of people,” she said, almost defensively, “Just my company.”

“You should branch out,” Babe said, “We’re not all assholes,” she snorted—actually snorted—and he took that as a win, “I’m Babe,” he said, offering his hand, “Well—Edward, but nobody calls me that,” she hesitated, then placed her smaller hand in his. It was warm. Her fingers fit between his perfectly.

He held on just a moment too long.

Babe hadn’t expected her to take his hand.

Hell, he hadn’t expected her to stay.

But the second her fingers slid into his—smaller, softer, careful—something in his chest shifted.

It wasn’t the kind of pull he was used to. This wasn’t about getting lucky or impressing the boys. It was quieter than that. Slower. Like gravity had decided she was the center now, and he’d be a damn fool not to orbit.

She wasn’t doing anything special. She wasn’t flirting. She wasn’t trying.

She was just there.

Soft-spoken. Guarded. Wrapped in something invisible that made him want to know her, to peel back whatever careful layers she was hiding behind.

And maybe that scared him a little, because it had been a long time since anything felt real. Since someone made him want to stop talking and just listen.

And right then? She was winning him over without even trying.

Just by standing there.

“I know who you are,” she said, so quietly he almost missed it.

Babe stilled. Not in a sharp, startled way—but like something in him paused just to take her in better. The way her lashes dipped after she spoke, like she regretted it the second it left her mouth. Like she didn’t realize the power she had in saying it.

His eyebrows lifted, that crooked grin returning, slower this time, “You been askin’ about me, sweetheart?”

She flushed instantly, her eyes going wide as she jerked her hand back from his like she’d touched something too hot, “No. I mean—your unit’s talked about a lot. Around the barracks.”

Babe chuckled under his breath, but there was something else behind it—something softer, sharper. Without even realising it, he leaned in, closer, his shoulder brushing hers, his drink forgotten. He didn’t mean to crowd her, but he couldn’t help it—she pulled him in.

Not in some loud, showy way. She wasn’t batting her lashes or leaning forward like the girls back home did when they wanted to be chased.

She was just...there.

Looking up at him with those cautious eyes like she didn’t know she was already tangled around his nerves. Like she didn’t know he was the one falling into whatever trap she wasn’t even trying to set.

He dropped his voice as he tilted toward her ear, like it was just the two of them in the whole damn bar, “Good things, I hope.”

And God help him, he liked the way she swallowed hard at that—like he was already a little too close, a little too much, and she didn’t know whether to pull away or lean in.

And Babe? He was already hers, and she hadn’t even asked for it.

She nodded. But the moment stretched, and she looked like she might bolt.

Babe reached for his drink, took a sip, then set it down. He leaned his elbow on the bar and turned more fully toward her.

“You from Philly?” he asked.

She shook her head, “North Carolina.”

“Explains the sweet,” he said.

She blinked, confused, “What?”

He grinned again, slower this time, “Your voice. It’s sweet. Kinda soft. Like honey or something,” her mouth parted again, breath hitching in her throat.

She was not used to attention. Not like this. And definitely not from someone who looked at her like that—like he was already undressing her in his mind and savoring every second of it.

Babe tried to look away. Tried to bite back the images starting to flicker through his mind like film reels he hadn’t asked to load. But it was useless. She looked at him with wide eyes, caught somewhere between flustered and curious, and that was dangerous. That look could undo a man if he wasn’t careful.

He took a sip of his beer, hoping the bitterness might ground him, but all it did was give him a second to imagine what her lips might taste like instead.

Christ, get it together, he thought.

But he couldn’t help it.

Couldn’t stop the way his mind wandered—how she’d look in the morning light, bare and soft, curled up in sheets with that shy little smile that probably didn’t come out often. Or the way her voice—already sweet as honey—might sound breathless in the dark, whispering his name like a secret.

He wondered if she’d melt under his hands, the way she seemed to melt under his gaze. If she’d be gentle or if there was something else simmering under all that quiet—something only he’d get to see.

The thought alone made heat crawl up the back of his neck.

And as she sat there, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering, still holding tight to that Coke bottle like it might save her from him—he realised something that hit deeper than just want—it wasn’t just any girl making him feel this way.

It was her.

And that? That made it so much worse.

So much better.

“I, um...should probably get back to my group—”

“Let them wait,” Babe said easily, “You got any idea how rare it is to find a lady like you in a dump like this? I ain’t wastin’ it,” she swallowed. 

He could tell she wanted to run. But she wasn’t. Not yet.

She swallowed. Hard.

Because no one had ever spoken to her like that—not with charm, not with heat, not with something real coiled beneath the surface.

Not like she mattered.

Back home, she’d always been the quiet one, the polite one. The girl who kept her head down, followed orders, didn’t draw attention. Even in her unit, the men looked at her like a sister, or worse, like she wasn’t there at all.

But Babe Heffron?

He looked at her like she was everything.

Like the room had blurred behind her.

Like she wasn’t just some girl in uniform—she was the girl.

It made her dizzy. It made her nervous.

And it made her want to stay.

She’d heard of him before—Heffron, Easy Company. The stories drifted around the barracks like smoke, names passed in hushed admiration or jealous awe. The redhead from Philly who fought like hell and laughed louder than anyone had a right to in times like these.

She never thought he would see her.

And now here he was—closer than he should be, calling her sweet, telling her to stay, like the whole damn war could wait.

And she’d never felt so acknowledged in her entire life.

She whispered, “You’re very...forward.”

He chuckled lowly and leaned down until his mouth was next to her ear, “That a bad thing, sweetheart?” her breath caught. Her heart was hammering. His scent was all whiskey and cigarettes and something warmer underneath. Her fingers tightened around her Coke like it could anchor her. She didn’t answer. And that silence—it was almost louder than anything else in the room. Babe pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again, “You’re nervous,” he murmured.

“I don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” his voice dipped, his gaze dropping to her lips.

Her voice barely came out, fragile as spun glass, “Talk to guys. Like…this.”

Babe blinked, just for a second.

It wasn’t the words that got him—it was the way she said them. Like this wasn’t just new, it was foreign.

Like no one had ever leaned in close and made her feel seen. Like no guy had ever given her a reason to speak softer, to blush this hard, to wonder if her heartbeat was too damn loud.

He stared at her, eyebrows ticking up, the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“You serious?” he asked, not teasing—curious.

She nodded once, eyes dropping, like she regretted admitting it. Like it was something to be ashamed of.

And Babe? He wasn’t smug now. He was floored.

Because the girl standing in front of him—shy, sharp-eyed, sweet as hell—was the kind of woman most guys would fall all over themselves for. And the fact that no one had bothered before?

That made his jaw clench a little.

And made him want to be the first and last guy she ever talked to like this, “Then let me make it easy,” he said. His thumb brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Just sit with me. One drink. No pressure,” she stared at him. Torn between fear and something new bubbling inside her.

Then, after a long pause, she whispered, “Okay,” that single word left her lips like a secret, delicate and uncertain, but Babe heard it loud and clear. His grin returned—slower this time, softer, like it was just for her.

He offered his hand again, and she took it without thinking. He guided her through the crowd, his fingers curling around hers like they were something to protect. He didn’t let go, not even when they reached a quieter corner table at the edge of the bar—away from the rowdy laughter and sloshing drinks.

“Didn’t catch your name,” he said as he pulled out a chair for her—gentleman-like, but with a glint in his eye that suggested anything but innocence.

She hesitated, then murmured, “Y/N,” like it might disappear if said too loudly.

“Y/N,” Babe let it roll off his tongue, testing the sound, smiling like it was something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life, “Pretty name. Suits you,” she looked down, her cheeks heating again, “So,” he said, leaning in across the small table, forearms resting casually on the wood, “North Carolina, doesn’t drink, hasn’t flirted with a guy before…tell me, what do you do when you’re not knockin’ all of us dead just by walkin’ into a room?”

She huffed a laugh—half disbelief, half nerves, “I…read a lot.”

“Dangerous,” he murmured, his smile widening, “Smart and quiet. Real lethal combo.”

She laughed under her breath, “You’re laying it on pretty thick.”

He leaned in closer, eyes locked to hers, “Only ‘cause it’s true.”

Their drinks came—another Coke for her, beer for him—but he didn’t look away, not once. He asked more questions, asked about her training, what base she was stationed at before, if she missed home. And he listened. Really listened. And every now and then, he’d lean in just a little more.

At one point, when she said something about how her brothers used to tease her accent, he reached over without thinking, brushing his thumb along the edge of her jaw—just enough to make her breath catch.

“Don’t let ‘em take that from you,” he said, “That voice? Sweetest thing I’ve heard in years.”

And she froze.

Because now—now he was close. So close.

He’d leaned in again, his elbow on the back of her chair, that crooked grin flickering to something deeper, something darker, something that sat right between affection and want. His knee brushed hers beneath the table. His eyes dropped to her lips—barely for a second—but she felt it.

She could feel the warmth of his breath, faint and heady with beer. If she moved, just the tiniest bit—tilted her head forward, maybe said his name—she’d be kissing him.

And the worst part?

She wanted to.

She wanted to know how he’d taste, how he’d touch, how it would feel to let someone like Babe Heffron undo her completely.

She swallowed hard, eyes flickering nervously between his lips and his steady, confident gaze. Finally, she whispered, almost afraid he’d mishear, “I’ve… never done something like this before.”

The confession hung in the air between them, fragile and honest. Babe’s grin softened into something warmer, more protective. He reached out, lightly tracing a thumb along the back of her hand.

“Hey,” he said gently, voice low enough so only she could hear, “If at any point you wanna stop—say the word. I’ll back off, no questions asked. No pressure, no bullshit,” she nodded, biting her lip, her heart racing so loud she was sure he could hear it, “But,” he added, his eyes darkening with a promise that made her breath hitch, “If you don’t want me to stop...then I’ll make damn sure this is the best damn thing you ever experience. The only one you’ll ever need.”

His words wrapped around her like a promise and a dare all at once. She hesitated, then looked up—right into those fierce, honest eyes—and for the first time, she let herself believe it.

That maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something she never thought she’d have.

Something real.

Something unforgettable.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she held his gaze, searching for any sign of doubt or mockery—and found none. Only the steady warmth of someone who meant every word.

Slowly, she nodded again, a whisper of trust weaving through her nerves, “Okay,” she said, voice barely above a breath.

Babe’s smile deepened, that crooked, winning grin that made her feel both safe and dangerously alive. He reached out, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch feather-light but electric.

“Good,” he murmured, “Because I plan on making this night one you won’t forget. And I’m not just talking about the drinks.”

Her cheeks flushed hotter, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in just a little, the space between them shrinking until her breath mingled with his.

The world around them blurred—no shouting men, no clinking glasses, just the quiet heat building between two people who knew this moment was the start of something neither of them could quite put into words yet.

✩˚｡ Summary ｡˚✩

Sometimes the city feels like too much—too loud, too fast, too everything. You never expected anyone to notice when your world slowed to a stop… until a he does. A tall stranger with kind eyes and a soft voice, who shields you from the crowd and offers you ramen, patience, and maybe something a little warmer.

♡ Warnings / Info ♡

🌸 Soft fluff

🍥 First meeting

🐰 Shy/autistic reader (fidgets, blushes, avoids eye contact)

🫖 Gentle/patient Toji

🚫 No angst, no spicy content—just cozy vibes

- Your Pace -

You hadn’t meant to stop.

One moment you were weaving through the river of people, bag strap clenched in your fist, and the next—the noise hit all at once. Honking horns, chatter layering over chatter, the shuffle and thuds of shoes. It pressed in on you from every direction. Your feet locked to the pavement like they’d forgotten how to move.

A cool breeze tugged at your curls. The smell of something fried wafted from a nearby food cart, and none of it reached you. You were somewhere else entirely, stuck behind glass while the world rushed on. People curved around you like water around a stone, never looking.

Except him.

He slowed as if the river didn’t apply to him, as if he had time to spare. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Hands in his pockets. The kind of presence that made space around itself. Dark hair, a little messy like he’d run a hand through it on his way here.

He stopped just a step away, tilting his head. “You lost or something?” His voice was rough, rough in a way that didn’t scrape against your nerves. Your eyes darted everywhere but his face. Shop signs. Traffic lights. Your own shoes. Words tangled and dissolved before they could form. You shook your head, quick and small. “Ah.” Something eased in his expression. His tone softened. “Crowds get to you?” Your fingers twisted the hem of your sleeve. You nodded, barely. Heat rose in your cheeks.

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t sigh. Instead, he shifted subtly, planting himself like a barrier between you and the blur of passing strangers. His back was broad, his stance casual, as though he’d always meant to stand there. “No rush,” he murmured. “Take your time.”

The words reached you slowly, gentle as a feather landing. You blinked up at him, startled by the kindness. He caught your fleeting glance and let it go, looking away like it was nothing, like you were allowed to look without being trapped.

Bit by bit, the air stopped buzzing. You released your bag strap just enough to feel your fingers again. The world tilted back into place, not so sharp at the edges. When the crowd thinned, he spoke again, careful and unhurried. “There’s a ramen place around the corner,” he said, nodding that way. “Quiet booths. Good soup. You like ramen?”

You hesitated. Your brain spun in circles. Stranger. Big. Scary-looking. Not scary? Deep voice. Smells like warm cologne and rain. Ramen. He watched your silence without impatience, then added, “Just food. If it’s too much, you can leave. No strings.” A pause. “I’ll pay.” Something unknotted inside your chest.

“…Okay,” you whispered, voice so small it nearly vanished. His mouth curved—just slightly, like a secret. “Alright.” And he stepped back, giving you space as if you were something delicate and important.

He didn’t walk ahead. He matched your steps. Slow, easy strides, never brushing against you, letting you decide the rhythm. The crowd wasn’t as loud with him soaking up the edges of it. His presence made a bubble of calm you could breathe in.

After a block, you found yourself stealing a glance. He was humming under his breath, eyes half-lidded like the city couldn’t bother him if it tried. “You always this quiet?” he asked, without teasing. You nodded, embarrassed. “Sometimes I… can’t talk.”

He hummed like that was perfectly normal. Your lips twitched, almost a smile. The ramen shop was small and warm, tucked between two brick buildings. Paper lanterns glowed soft gold in the window. When he opened the door, the bell chimed gently instead of clanging. Inside smelled like broth and comfort.

He picked a booth in the far corner, sliding in and letting you choose your side first. The noise here was small—clinking spoons, murmured voices, the soft hiss of boiling water. You could feel your shoulders unclench. He didn’t push conversation while you scanned the menu. Just sat there, calm, letting you exist. When you whispered what you wanted, he ordered for you like it was nothing, voice steady and sure.

And when the ramen arrived, steam curling into the air, he grinned faintly. You tasted it. Warm, salty, soft noodles that melted on your tongue. Your whole body exhaled. He noticed, eyes glinting with something like pride. “Told you it was good. Better?” You nodded, cheeks warm. Not from embarrassment this time. From something else. Something lighter.

Maybe it was silly. Maybe it was too soon. But as the city faded to a soft hum beyond the window, you wondered if this tall, quiet, lazy looking stranger might be someone you’d like to see again.

Maybe not just for ramen.

✩˚｡⋆ Written with love by mintedmomments ⋆｡˚✩

🌸 I shared a little draft of this yesterday, but I couldn’t resist polishing it up and adding more love. If you’d like to see a part 2 (fingers crossed!), let me know — it would make my heart so happy. ♡

🗡️🌑✨🦇✨🌑🗡️🌑✨🦇✨🌑🗡️🌑✨🦇✨🌑🗡️🌑✨🦇✨

🗡️🌑✨🦇✨🌑🗡️🌑✨🦇✨🌑🗡️🌑✨🦇✨🌑🗡️🌑✨🦇✨

Pairing : shy!reader x bf!Azriel

You’ve always been the quiet one. The one who overthinks every text, types and deletes a reply at least five times, and somehow always manages to convince yourself that no one really notices you. But what if the Shadowsinger himself did? ✨

Yes of course and thank you :)

I hope you enjoy it

Masterlist

Warnings: none just fluff

Adam with a shy reader headcanon

He wouldn't realise at the beginning that the reader has a crush on him. The man is not the most attentive when it comes to that.

He's THE first man, of course everyone likes him, but not someone as inconspicuous as Y/N. Ridiculous

Since Y/N wouldn't approach him because she's shy, it takes quite a while for the two of them to even have a conversation.

In fact, Lute or one of the other exorcists would notice that Y/N is always staring over and reach under her arms

Adam is loud and makes a lot of naughty jokes, which Y/N just smiles at and rarely comments on

Gradually, Y/N becomes more relaxed in his presence and starts to talk to him a little more. This is a small victory for Adam ….but why?

In the time that he has got to know Y/N more, he has not even realised how he has fallen in love with her.

But when he realises his feelings, he starts to "woo" her. Well, in his own way.

Which doesn't really go down well and leads to Y/N distancing herself from him again.

Lute keeps nagging him and has to give him advice because he's being so clumsy

On her advice, he tries a quiet date. A walk or something to eat. He personally finds walking boring, but hey, if it helps, he'll do it

You've always been a bit shy by nature. Leo said that it was endearing. You were the very definition of innocent. Whenever Mikey made his little innuendos, you would get as red as a cherry. Leo often found his eyes lingering in your direction. He couldn't help it. Being around you made him a little more protective. So it was a complete shock when he'd finally approached you about his feelings. That adorable color had rushed to your face again as you made a stuttering confession of your own.

That's how you became a couple.

The only issue is the distance.

It was poor timing at best. You'd applied for an internship in Washington three months ago and the acceptance letter finally returned. So for the next two months you're away from him. Leo of course was overjoyed for you. But you knew there was a part of him that was a bit disappointed that he'd have to spend two months away from you.

He called as often as he could considering his night job. You both would send texts and updates back and forth.

But you still missed him.

Due to your bashful nature, you never even got to share a kiss yet.

The day he'd sent you off his smile was just too charming. You paced out the room before anymore could be said, and you could hear Leo's soft chuckles that day as he bid you a safe and eventful summer.

Your internship is coming to an end. You had a week at most left, still that didn't stop your heart from aching just a little.

For the last couple days you found yourself missing Leo more and more. Hoping he'd somehow just turn up at your window. Walk through your door.

Slip into your bed....

Your thoughts would not stop rolling, so you decided to enlist some female support.

"April speaking."

Her voice echoed on the other side of the phone.

"H-Hi April."

"Oh hey, how are you doing? Leo's been sending us pictures of everything. It's really sweet."

You swallow.

"Y-Yeah he's great. It's s-sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. "

This is nerve wracking.

"Did something happen?"

"N-No everything's fine!"

In a manner of speaking.

"I've just been thinking about Leo..a lot.." You let out a breath, and there's a stillness on the other side of the phone.

"Wait..are you calling me for tips about phone sex?"

Red was too little a word to describe the state of your face at the moment.

"N-Nevermind! Good bye!"

You hung up the phone before anything else could be said, dropping your phone on the bed. When it buzzed, you jumped. Looking down, you read the message.

"Just tell him how you feel. It'll be fine. Good luck!"

The note did not deter your embarrassment, but you did feel a little more at ease. Smiling, you sent her a reply.

"I can do this."

For once, you would be forward. You needed to tell him what you wanted. Even if you passed out in the process.

That night you waited patiently by the phone, just scrolling through the cute messages you'd exchanged with him the night before. He always added little animal emoji's especially the puppy because he knew how adorable you thought it was. When the phone rang, your heart skipped a beat. You released your heavy breath, clicking the button as you pressed the phone to your ear.

"Hi Leo."

“Hey, I can't wait to see you Friday. Raph has been giving me a hard time. I know when you get back you can set him straight." You laugh at that. For some strange reason Raph became very obedient whenever you asked him to do something. He'd once commented that you reminded him of a pitbull puppy. He treated you like a little sister. So whenever he got into it with Leo you'd give him that look and he'd back off with a huff, patting your head. Sometimes being small and shy comes in handy.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you Leo."

He let out a soft laugh, and you find yourself a bit dazed. Your legs shifted against the sheet, and you gripped at the pillow to try and elevate the warmth that began to travel through your body at such a simple sound. You clenched the phone, and before you could stop yourself the words came barreling out.

"Leo I miss you so much! I-It's been driving me crazy. I keep thinking that you'll just show up but then I open my eyes and you're not here. It's so frustrating! I want you here with me. I want to hold you, I want to kiss you, I want you to touch me!"

You couldn't stop yourself. The second that last statement came out, you felt your stomach drop. The realization of how desperate and clingy that sound hits you and your lips quiver.

"I-I'm sorry Leo I-I.."

You can't find the words. Before you can humiliate yourself further you hang up. You shove the device under a pillow, clenching another to your chest as you try not to let any tears fall.

He would definitely be weirded out.

"What if he breaks up with me.."

Dread hit you like a brick, and before you could get too deep in your thoughts, your phone rang. For a moment you just stare. Because the possibility of him calling to say that this is too much, or he needs time away from you is terrifying. The last ring resounds in the air, and you finally answer the phone.

"L-Leo I-I shouldn't have said that.."

You feel like an idiot.

"Did you mean it, everything you said?"

That's not the question you expect. But you answer nonetheless.

"I..I did."

There's a bit of shuffling on the other side of the phone.

"I miss you too, so much."

His tone has lowered significantly, and a little shiver rushes up your spine at the unexpected shift.

"You never have to feel bad about being honest (Y/N). I want you to be honest with me. Tell me when something upsets you. Excites you.."

You nibble at your fingernail.

"Y-You don't think it's weird?"

"Not at all. I'm a little relieved. To be honest I was worried you would find someone on your trip. I know we're officially a couple but I just feel like we just started out. Distance sometimes shows us what we want and need. I guess I got a little clingy."

You can't believe it. This whole time he's been feeling exactly the same.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about what it'll feel like to kiss you. I've wanted to for so long. Seeing you so flustered that day when you left though, it just made me want it more."

You close your eyes. His words are like honey.

Every whisper is a promise of something more.

"I-I'm sorry that I always run away."

"You don't have to apologize."

His voice is always so soothing, reassuring. Leo's known since the moment he met you. It was one of the many reasons that he loved you.

"Tell me what you want. I'll do anything."

You can imagine the possibilities of that request.

Anything..

"If you were here right now...what would you do Leo?"

You can't help but ask. You have to know.

"I'd kiss your cheeks. They always get so adorably red."

You smile, as you turn unto your stomach, kicking your feet back and forth.

"Then I'd have to kiss you. Nice and slow. I want to feel everything, taste everything. You probably have a pack of gummies nearby. You're always munching on those. I bet you taste so sweet right now." You gulp, rolling onto your back as you release a little breath.

"Whenever you fall asleep on my bed you always manage to hike up your shirt. You have no idea how much I've had to retrain myself. Sometimes you're so defenseless. Right now I'm almost positive that you're not wearing a bra. I could slip my hands right under your shirt."

Your thighs are clenched together.

"What color panties are you wearing right now?" He asks softly.

"T-They're blue." Your fingers graze the top of it unconsciously.

"My favorite color." He hums appreciatively.

"I'd let you take them off yourself, I want to see how flushed your cheeks can get. Or I can do it myself. You'd like that wouldn't you (Y/N)?"

You nod eagerly.

"I-I would." You admit shamelessly.

"Lifting you into my lap would be so easy. I'd have to tease you just a little. I like it when you squirm. Do you think you could handle it if I just licked you right at the center? It'll definitely be sweet. Every bit of you is sweet (Y/N).."

You can't stop the soft moan that leaves your lips. You press your hand to your lips almost immediately to stifle the sound. Leo lets out a deep chuckle.

"I'll be waiting for you on Friday (Y/N). You better get a lot of rest."

It dawns on you that he's about to say goodnight.

"W-Wait Leo!" You whine.

"This is payback for running off without giving me a kiss." He taunts. You huff, cheeks now burning.

"M-Meanie."

He continues to laugh.

"Have a good night (Y/N)."

Warning: harassment

Words: 2.4k

"Come on, girlie, gimmie a smile!"

You were getting harassed by this guy who would not get a clue, letting hair fall into your face as you increased your walking speed. But he was persistent and chased you through the streets of traffic. Your trembling hands fumbled with your phone, trying desperately to press the speed dial for one of your two partners to come and save you when it slipped through your fingers.

The screen shattered upon impact with the concrete and cold dread set in the pit of your stomach as alcohol-laced breath panted against your neck.

Scrambling away, you tried to employ what Jae-ha had taught you to do in a situation like this, but the man overpowered you easily, twisting your wrist as you went to jab him in the eyes. His eyes narrowed and he sneered at you.

You shied away from him as he stuck his face close to yours, silent but clearly terrified. No matter how much you struggled, he pinned your wrists above your head, avoiding your poorly-aimed kicks to his groin to get him off of you.

Then, all of the sudden, the pressure was gone.

Hi this is my first one-shot, so i decided to do a Trollhunters one but with Aaarrrgghh cause I don’t really see many stories or one shots of this guy and maybe a story with the love-able dude, cause he’s so fluffy and cute.

Spoilers if some of you haven’t seen the much of the first season.

This will be after Draal loses his arm trying to rip out the amulet from Killahead bridge.

/////////

It was another busy day in Heartstone Trollmarket, trolls either going over to the tattoo parlour or going over to the bar for a drink with there friends. The gnomes running all over the place and pinching what they could as some trolls ran after the little vermin's.

Peering around the corner, Draal’s little sister Watched as a large Troll walked through the area on his knuckles, His green fur looking soft in the crystal light while one of the surface creatures walked next to him, talking about something called a Nana; whatever that my be.

As she was watching the two, the young Troll didn’t notice her big brother coming up from behind her. “What are you doing Y/N?” He asked, causing Kanja to let out a surprised yelp not only attracting attention to herself from nearby Trolls but also the one shes been as the surface creatures say ‘head over heals for’.

Seeing this Y/N quickly ducked away embarrassed of the situation that transpired.”Draal, you , you, rock head!” She snapped, reeling her fist back a punching her brother right in his nose. 

Feeling the pain of his sisters punch, Draal held his nose as he shot a glare towards his sister, his teeth clenched.”You don’t need to punch me.” He groaned, pulling his hand away from his nose only to put it back and rub the spot that she hit him.

“Well you shouldn’t have snuck up from behind and scared me, now he’s going to think that I some kind of weirdo.” She Snapped before burying her face into her hands, feeling her stone face heat up.

Sorry that it took so long. Working life and the staying home situation is really a bit tough.

So I do it with bullet points. Hope you are happy with the results.