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recuira · 1 year ago

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after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

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chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four

chapter five | fights. fondness. fury.

his pov;

I followed close behind Y/N, almost like a lost puppy. She led the way while I walked after her, holding numerous bags full of random vegetables, grains, and dairy products. I felt bad but Y/N insisted on using the money I lent her to pay for the groceries. I told her I'd be happy to cover this but she gave me a firm 'no' and told me that a dinner guest shouldn't have to pay for their meal. It was inhumane- improper, she said. I smiled. I loved how persistent she could be.

As we turned the corner, she reached deep into the pocket of her backpack and pulled out a rusted key. The sight of her home appeared in the distance. I've never been inside. I've only ever seen what it looked like from an outside perspective. I was thrilled to finally be a part of Y/N's personal life. I was always separate from this part but now, I was finally being let in.

Her home appeared closer within seconds which took me as a shock. She lived closer than I had originally realized. Clearing my throat, I scooped the bags into my arms, hugging them against my chest. I rested my chin atop the quart of milk and looked down at the girl as she struggled to jam the key inside the lock. "Anything I need to watch out for?" I asked, taking a step closer to her.

Shaking her head, she was finally able to unlock the door. "No, just be nice. Use manners."

"Do I not already?" I asked, taken aback.

"Use them more often."

I nodded my head, clenching my jaw.

Y/N looked up at me, somehow being able to sense how nervous I was. I gulped and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Relax, Buggers," She hummed as she nudged me with her elbow. A warm smile wafted over my face and I shrugged my shoulders back, listening to her simple yet helpful words of advice. "Just be yourself."

"I've never had anyone tell me that before."

"Why?"

Just before I could answer, the door was pushed open and Y/N's mother appeared, smiling at the both of us. I stayed still as my friend walked ahead of me, slipping her shoes off beside the open door. I remained frozen, wielding the bags of groceries close to me. Why was I so scared? Why was I not moving?

"Is he not going to come in?" Her mother whispered to Y/N.

"Buggy, come inside."

With those words, I snapped out of my horrified trance and listened to her, walking in. The door was shut behind me and I took a second to admire everything around me.

To the left of me was the kitchen. A small counter wrapped around, two barstools sitting underneath it. A bowl of fruit sat atop. The kitchen was tiny with two burners, one of which held a tea kettle. The refrigerator was marked with scratches and what seemed to be dents. I frowned. I wonder what happened.

To my right was a staircase leading upstairs, to what I'm presuming was Y/N's bedroom and an extra room now that her mother moved downstairs. In front of me was a large wooden table with two matching chairs and then past that, a couch lined with assorted blankets. Built into the stone wall was a fireplace that was burning brightly, the flames crackling. I'm glad she could have a furnace or some type of heat to keep her warm at night. Especially during these times, hypothermia was fairly common. I was thankful it wouldn't be an issue for her.

After examining my surroundings, my eyes trailed back to the lovely woman next to me who started to grab items from my arms. I apologized and set the rest of the bags on the countertop, helping both her and her mother to unload them.

"How much was all of this?" Her mother asked as she grabbed a bag of tomatoes, staring closely at them.

"Not much."

"Did he pay?" She met my gaze for a second then looked back down.

"No, I did."

"Why didn't he pay?"

"Mom-" Y/N nudged her mother's shoulder, shaking her head. "Don't say anything like that. It's rude."

She held her hands up in defense. "My apologies." Her eyes rolled.

I decided to let them be and ventured into the living room. I took a seat on the couch, resting my arm atop the back of it. I leaned back and admired the crackling flames. More bickering was heard from behind me and I cringed. Poor girl.

"Is he gonna help make dinner?" I heard her mother whisper after she questioned if my nose was real or not. I grimaced.

"You can ask him yourself! Talk to him. I'm going to go get changed. I'll be right back," Y/N announced. As I turned my head, I watched the young girl walk up the staircase. Her mother was staring at me, forcing a smile.

"Come help me."

I gave a firm nod, pressed my hands to my thighs, and pushed myself up and off of the couch. I headed into the kitchen and smiled down at her. "What can I help with?"

"Chop those tomatoes and the onions."

"Okay," I said with a smile. I grabbed a knife from the small rack and slipped my gloves off, stuffing them into the left pocket of my coat. I wielded the knife and started to slice the tomatoes. "Diced? Chopped?"

"Diced, please."

An uncomfortable silence fell and I raised my head in hopes of seeing Y/N walking down the stairs but she remained invisible. I gulped and turned my head to face her mother who was measuring a few cups of water. I cleared my throat. "Thank you for inviting me over for dinner."

"I've heard a lot about you. I wanted to see if you lived up to the expectations."

"What has been said?"

"Only good things."

I smiled. I'm glad Y/N thought so highly of me. "She's said good things about you, too."

Her mom let out a gutty chuckle. "Yeah! That's funny. She hates me."

"No, she doesn't. She loves you."

"She sure has a hefty way of showing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Ya know how kids are. Disrespectful, defiant. She's no different."

I frowned. "How is she disrespectful?"

"Talks illy of her father. A man who aspired to be more and she shames him for that. I'll never understand it."

I scooped the tomatoes into a small bowl and then started to chop the onions, constantly blinking so I wouldn't cry. The smell burned my nose and eyes. I wanted to give my opinion on the matter but due to my dinner invitation, I didn't deem it to be seen fit. I stayed quiet and listened to her complaints. When Y/N finally appeared, it felt like a breath of fresh air to see her angelic self walk down the stairway. I found myself to be entranced with her beauty.

She changed into a sundress, the fabric matching her eyes. I smiled at the sight, biting my bottom lip. I was so distracted by her goddess look that I didn't feel the blade of the knife cut into my finger. With my clouded mind, I was also unable to use my devil fruit ability to stop the blade from cutting me. As soon as I felt it, I jumped back and dropped the knife. My blood pooled on the white cutting board and I winced, grabbing a towel from the stove to wrap around my wound. Y/N noticed this and hurried towards me, frowning. "What happened?"

I blinked and shook my head. "I just cut my finger, that's all. I'm okay."

"You're not okay, you're bleeding."

"Yeah, but-"

"Follow me, come here." She led me over to the other side of the counter and sat me down on a barstool. She disappeared into a small closet before reappearing with a small wooden box. I held my finger, feeling a pulse beat through my hand. Her mom watched with a troubled expression. I ignored her look and turned to gaze up at Y/N who was finally taller than me. I smirked.

She dug through the box and pulled out a bandage.

"Thank you, nurse," I whispered while she wrapped the bandage around my finger after disinfecting it with alcohol. "It feels a lot better."

"Don't mention it,'' She said softly. "Be careful next time."

"No promises." I winked.

As she turned around, I noticed that the dress was sheer. I don't know if she realized that but I didn't want to sound like a pervert by telling her. But I felt like a pervert by not telling her. I chewed on my lower lip and looked down at my finger.

Part of me wished she kissed my finger, but I knew I was asking too much.

Rising from the seat, I resumed cutting vegetables while the girl set the table. She pulled a barstool over and slid it next to one of the chairs. I watched her momentarily before scooping the remaining sliced peppers and garlic into the small bowl. I carried it over to her mother. "Here you go."

"Thank you," She patted my hand and then started to sift them into the pot of chicken stock. I backed up and leaned back against the counter, folding my arms over my chest. "What should I call you? Y/N's mom?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Evelyn."

"Nice to meet you, Evelyn."

I caught Y/N looking over at me. I met her gaze and smiled as she mouthed a quick 'thank you'.

I whispered 'you're welcome' in return, winking at her.

-=-

her pov;

It was a nice sight to see my mother and Buggy getting along so far. My mother was a troubling woman. While I loved her, she always had ulterior motives. She never did anything out of the kindness of her own heart. So while watching her interact with my new friend, I tried my best to predict what would happen. But there were too many possibilities. Too many endless outcomes. All I could do was wait because if I asked her, I'd be chewed out instantly.

I reached into the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of red wine. Popping the cork out, I poured three glasses and set them next to each of the three plates. I wasn't going to drink but I knew my mother would. I looked up at Buggy. Was he going to? The extra glass was just for show. I was called numerous names by my mother for not drinking alcohol. I didn't want to hear any of it tonight. I wanted things to go perfectly- no, beyond perfect. Things needed to be overly perfect, if that was possible.

But as the night furthered, I realized that my hope was nothing more than a silly dream.

When dinner was finally being eaten, the three of us gathered around the table. Buggy sipped on his glass of wine while my mother downed hers and then grabbed mine. "You're not gonna drink it," She insisted as she took a swig. "She hates alcohol," She said as she looked at Buggy.

"I know." He swallowed and slid the glass away from him.

I slowly began to eat. It’s been so long since I’ve sat down with my mother and shared a meal. And even longer since she cooked. Most of the time we ate separately. The only time we shared together were with stupid arguments.

“How’s the food, Buggy?” My mother asked.

The clown smiled and nodded his head. “Very good.”

“Y/N?” She tilted her gaze toward me.

“Good, thank you.”

“So, Buggy, I heard you used to be a pirate. Tell me about that.”

“Uhm.” He dropped his fork and finished chewing before washing the food down with wine. He cleared his throat and sat up. “What would you like to know?”

“How much money did it make you?”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my head into my hand.

“Well, obviously you can imagine it was quite a lot. I was quite wealthy and fortunate but of course, it wasn’t the best way to make money. I regret it now but-“

“Are you still rich?”

“Mom, talk about something else-“ I interrupted before she interrupted me.

“Stop. I’m just making conversation.”

I sighed and grabbed the wine bottle from beside her. I poured myself a glass and hesitantly, I took a sip. I grimaced at the taste but forced it down. I could tell tonight wasn’t going to go smoothly.

“I do have a bit saved, yeah. But not nearly as much as I used to.” The pirate took another bite.

“How much do you have saved?” My mom dropped her fork and rested her chin on her hands.

“A couple million berries, give or take.”

“Is that going to my daughter when you get married?”

I gasped, laughing. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a simple question, is it not? If you two are going to get married, then you need my blessing.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re not even dating, what makes you think we’re going to get married?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I took another bite of the meal. "What is with these questions? Is it only about money for you?"

"We have no money, Y/N. I've been telling you it's best to marry young and marry wealthy."

"Are you kidding me?"

-=-

his pov;

The tension was growing fast. And so was my discomfort.

When the idea of marriage came up, I felt hot.

It was a dream of mine but there was no way I was going to. At least not yet. Y/N looked so uncomfortable with the thought of it, as well. I wanted to interrupt and hopefully ease the situation but before I knew it, they both were yelling at each other.

I frowned, sinking into my seat.

But the thing that worried me the most was how much Y/N was drinking. When I first realized how many glasses she repeatedly poured herself, I grew concerned. Before I could reach over, grab her wrist, and tell her to stop, the argument got more heated. Both women were drunkenly yelling at one another, pointing out each other's flaws and dismays.

"You're nothing but disrespectful toward me, do you know that? Constantly talking back, saying you know what's best for me, shitting on your father who risked his life for us! You're horrible to me, Y/N. I try to be a good mother to you, and this is what I get in return. Blatant disrespect?" Evelyn spat as she pushed herself up from her seat at the table. She stormed into the kitchen and leaned down, sorting through the liquor cabinet. While she wasn't looking, I grabbed the girl's wrist and urged her to stop.

"Hey, don't fuel this. Let's just go. You can stay with me again tonight-" I tried to whisper but she ripped herself from my grip and followed after her mother in the kitchen, continuing to add fuel to the wildfire. Sighing, my head fell into my hands and I felt the urge to scream but I remained quiet, forcing myself to sit still. I wanted to defend Y/N, however, this wasn't my battle. She needed to conquer this on her own.

"He left us! How is he risking his life? He willingly ditched his family for some stupid, probably made-up treasure! Do you find it odd that he never wrote to you? Or me? He completely abandoned us! And you call him a hero," The girl's face went red with anger. She threw her hands up in the air to exaggerate her point. She then shook her head. "It's pathetic. I knew I shouldn't have invited Buggy over."

"What?"

"Do you know how horrible it is to ask someone for their money? Or to insinuate that you want it? He's a good friend of mine. I don't care about his money. I never asked for anything. He offered it to me out of the kindness of his heart."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"Take a guess."

Slap!

Before I could process anything, Y/N was clutching her cheek, crying.

The escalation of this situation was beyond anything I could process. One moment we were getting along, sharing a nice meal, and now, Y/N was on the floor, crying as she cursed her mother, wishing her to be dead like her father.

Within seconds, both women left. Y/N ran to her bedroom and Evelyn left through the front door.

I sat alone at the table, clutching my thighs as I stayed completely still. I attempted to process what had just happened but I failed to do so.

Y/N had every right to despise her father. He left her when she was an infant for the One Piece, which sure, could simply be a huge hoax. A woman without a father is tragic. She needed a proper male role model in her life. However, due to her father's immature dreams, she was left alone. And Evelyn? While present, she was still very absent in her life. My heart ached for her. Someone so sweet and kind shed too many tears for people who could care less about her.

I didn't want to immediately run upstairs to her aid. She needed space, from what I understood.

I took a few minutes to clean up from dinner then I proceeded up the narrow staircase. I knocked on the door which consisted of a weeping woman behind it. A muffled 'come in' allowed my entrance.

I pushed the door open and closed it behind me.

The poor girl lay on her bed, clutching herself in a tight ball as she wept, her body shaking the bed. I approached her, kneeling on the bed. My hand found her back and I stroked it. I succeeded in ignoring the sheerness of her dress, my eyes locking on the back of her head.

"Are you alright?"

A stupid question, I know. She was crying. Of course, she wasn't okay. But I felt responsible to ask it.

She remained silent, the sounds of her sobs hurting both my heart and my ears. I wanted to be deaf. To hear someone as enchanting as her cry was worse than a life sentence.

"Do you want me to leave?"

With those words, she twisted her body and faced me. Her makeup streaked down her wet face. I gave her a sincere smile. She was still so pretty. I reached to grab her hurt cheek. I wiped her tears, making sure to be extremely gentle.

"I'll be quiet. Talk to me when you feel ready."

Her swollen eyes closed and she gave a half-nod.

I remained quiet, caressing her soft skin. I admired her, thanking God her eyes were closed so she wouldn't think my staring was creepy. A few loose strands of hair stuck to her teary face to which I wiped them away.

I let out a soft sigh and laid back, my head propped on a stuffed animal of a turtle. I smirked to myself. Her room was cozy. Her bed was soft and the sheets were silk. A window took up half of a wall which had translucent pink curtains hanging down from a pole. A lantern sat on her bedside table, a wooden dresser in front of us. If I were her, I'd never leave. I loved all of the pink decorations. It was cute.

I was about to check on her again but before I could, she sat up and crawled closer to me, her wet face burying into the crook where my neck and right shoulder met. I let out an inaudible gasp, a shiver running down my spine as I could feel her hot breath against my skin. My arm swept underneath her and I pulled her closer to me, my hand rubbing her back. I slipped my hand below the hem of her dress so I could rub her bare back. She didn't protest. I smiled.

Her hand found my chest as she clutched my striped vest. I spread my legs to get comfortable. Her own wrapped around my waist. I was shocked with how close and personal she was becoming but did I mind? Not. One. Bit.

My free hand caressed her soft hair, combing my fingers through it. The sweet scent of her strong shampoo floated past my nose. Coconut and vanilla.

I opened my mouth, moments from speaking but before I had the opportunity to, a kiss was placed against my neck. My eyes widened and I pushed her off of me. Her tired eyes met mine for a moment. I looked at her, confused. But she smiled at me and leaned back in, this time placing a kiss against my lips. When she pulled back, a soft red tint rested on her mouth. "What?" She whispered, her eyes trailing to admire my mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know," She murmured and kissed me again. She repeated this, each kiss longer and more passionate than the previous one. My hands now remained glued at my sides. I was scared to use them, not knowing what I planned on doing with them. But when her hand grabbed my own and she brought my injured finger up to her soft, plump lips, I swallowed, feeling my body heat up. She kissed my finger, humming. "I wanted to do this earlier, but…"

"Y/N, what's going on?"

"Hm? Nothing," She murmured and kissed me again. She guided my hand up to grab at her chest. She gripped my hand upon her right breast then dropped her hand. "I'm not doing anything," She repeated.

My body only continued to grow hot.

What was she doing? Why was she doing this?

She wasn't the type of girl to just sleep around. She had respect for herself, which I heavily admired. So why was she doing this?

Her kisses grew more frequent and before I knew it, she was completely on top of me. Her thighs straddled my hips as she forced me back against the bed. I pulled the stuffed turtle out from beneath my heart and tossed it somewhere across the room. I moaned into her mouth as she kissed me harder, this time with her tongue.

I shivered, my hand stuck on her breast, delicately scrunching my fingers. She wasn't wearing a bra.

My breath hitched as my finger grazed over her nipple. She whined at this, a sound that was a symphony to my ears.

"Buggy," She moaned against my mouth. "Take my dress off."

And that's when it hit me.

This wasn't her.

This wasn't Y/N.

As much as I've been craving this since the moment my eyes landed on a goddess like herself, I couldn't do it. Not when she was drunk and an emotional wreck.

"I can't," I whispered against her mouth, my hand dropping from her breast. Her hovering mouth pulled away and she gave me a skeptical look, her eyebrows furrowing together. I frowned. I could tell she was upset. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean 'you can't'?" Y/N asked, clearly offended and taken aback. She looked down at the erection beneath my pants. She giggled, "You clearly can. And want to."

"Do you?"

"What?" She laughed, her eyes rolling. "I insinuated this, no?"

"You're drunk," I said flatly. "I don't want to do this. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you." I grabbed a pillow from behind me and used it to cover my hips. "I want to do this when you're sober. Not when you're intoxicated and upset."

She scoffed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I don't want to upset you-"

"Well, you have." The girl crawled off of me and her arms folded over her chest. Her lips were stained red from my own. Normally, I would find the sight to be riveting but now, I was ashamed that I let it travel this far. "I want you to leave," She whispered.

"Y/N, come on, I don't want you to end up regretting this."

"No, you're right. I would end up regretting this."

I frowned. "Can we just talk tomorrow? About all of this?" I reached to take her hand in mine but she declined the offer by slapping it away.

"I want you to go."

"But-"

"I thought you liked me. I felt like we had a connection. I understood you, you understood me. And when I finally get the courage to show you how I feel, you just push me away," Her lower lip quivered as her eyes watered with tears.

"I do like you. I always have. I just want you to be sober, to be confident in what you're doing."

"And what makes you think I'm not sober?"

"You're slurring your words and your breath smells of alcohol," I admitted.

"Whatever," Y/N mumbled as she crawled off of the bed and stood on her feet. "I just wanted to give this night a good end. But my fault, I guess. I read into things too much."

I stayed quiet. I knew she didn't mean what she was saying.

"You're horrible, ya know that? You give me so many mixed signals by calling me cute, buying me things, and spoiling me with money. What do you want from me? I throw myself onto you and you push me away? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm going to go."

"Good! Go! The quicker, the better. I was sick of looking at you anyway." Her words cut deeper than any knife or blade ever could. But I knew she didn't mean any of it. It was the alcohol. I knew how she felt when her mother pulled this stunt with her. It wasn't a good feeling.

"Have a good night, Y/N." I smiled as I climbed off of the bed. I approached her despite her discomfort and pressed a kiss against her forehead. I then backed away, approaching the door. Part of me hoped she would beg me to stay but she remained quiet. Just as I left her bedroom, the door behind me slammed shut. While I was unhappy with her reaction, I was satisfied with the outcome. I'd much rather her despise me than take advantage of her when she was drunk by having sex with her. I knew she would regret it. She wasn't the type of girl to drink, let alone have sex with a guy while doing so.

As I walked downstairs, I realized she might forget about this in the morning. Or she wouldn't. I just didn't want her to hate me because of this. I was only looking out for her best interest.

I left her home and adjusted my coat, closing the door behind me. Evelyn leaned against the outside of the house, her foot propped up with a lit cigarette in her right hand. She looked at me and smiled. "Trouble in paradise?" She chuckled, taking a puff.

I adjusted the sleeves of my coat and looked over my shoulder. If it weren't for her, none of this would've happened. I developed a new hatred for Y/N's mother. "If I give her any more of what I have, I'm making sure you get jackshit," I snapped.

"We'll see about that. Like mother, like daughter."

"She is nothing like you."

"You're a no-good pirate. I see that. I just need her to realize that."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. I reached over, grabbed the cigarette from her lips, and threw it on the ground. I squished it below my foot and then stepped forward. "The first step to conquering addiction is admitting you have one."

"Go home, clown."

It took everything in me not to say my true feelings to her, but that was Y/N's mother. I wasn't going to insult her mom.

It was best to leave before things escalated further.

I had such high hopes for tonight but alas, nothing was made a reality. As I started down the street, I wondered if I made a mistake by not continuing further with Y/N. I wanted to, I really did. I wanted nothing more than to share a moment of intimacy with her. But the red wine clouded her judgment. She had a huge fight with her mother. Evelyn even hit her. There was no way she was thinking clearly.

And if our relationship is affected because of this, then so be it.

I'd rather that than take something precious from her.

Than to corrupt someone as pure as she.

#buggy the clown #buggy the genius jester #buggy x reader #captain buggy #buggy smut #op buggy #one piece live action #buggy one piece #buggy #x reader #buggy the flashy fool #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #one piece buggy #opla buggy

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alovesongtheywrote · 1 year ago

Note

can we pleaseeee have a pt.2 to nightmare academia bc THOSE TWO HAVE SO MUCH TENSION???!!!!!

♥ Summary: abso-fucking-lutely you can. here's reid's proper response to the typewriter incident(s) [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: discussions of sex, but no actual smut. arguing. spencer's a little mean, but shit, so's the reader. crim and psych facts. this is another 1000 words of the reader being a brat and reid losing his cool over it

♥ A/N: i still don't know when this is. if you have ideas, lmk, but again, im thinking it's right after s9.

♥ Word Count: 1646

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Yeah, so, about three weeks later, your students started breaking down again. You had to wonder if Dr. Reid was actually some sort of closet sadist who enjoyed watching his students break down. You tried to shake that thought from your head. He had been an FBI agent, after all!

If he was a sadist, he wouldn’t have left the FBI.

You reached your sobbing student quota of seven faster this time- though in at least one instance, the student apologized for Reid.

“He’s a good professor,” they said, curling up in a hard plastic chair that was not meant to be curled up in, “He’s just really bad at technology.”

You couldn’t help but agree. The students you had in common with Reid were incredibly insightful when they spoke in class- specifically on topics that the doctor would have touched on. Despite that, you could only have so many students come to you on the brink of collapse without doing something about it.

So. You brought the typewriter out again.

Spencer had tried to do the whole laptop thing. He really had. However, when the time came for one of his classes to submit an assignment, half of that class presented him with links to Google Documents that he couldn’t access. And this was after he requested PDFs!

After a weekend of writing emails, making repeated calls to Penelope Garcia, and lying facedown on the couch trying to fight off a migraine, Reid gave up on the technology thing. He banished laptops from his classroom once more. He told himself he just wouldn’t let the typewriter bother him. He wouldn’t let you bother him. At least, you wouldn’t bother him as much as emails did.

Then he got to class.

“So, when we look at externalizing disorders-”