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thewulf · 8 months ago

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Troublemaker || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request -Hiiii! can you do a Dallas Winston x Curtis Sister Reader (maybe sodapop's twin?) who is soooo different than soda. She's a firecracker with a mouth on her that gets her in trouble? Dally finds himself repeatedly rescuing the Curtis sister reader, who always seems to get into trouble with her sharp tongue and rebellious streak... Read Rest Here

A/N: I kinda love this one deeply. Something about a troublemaker loving another one gets writing (alot) hahah hope you guys enjoy! Kinda OOC Dally at some points but idc, I love it!

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Curtis Sister)

Word Count: 5.3k +

TW: choice words, fighting, punching, blood, general Outsiders TW

1. Clowns at the Drive-In:

The night was alive with the buzz of excitement at the local drive-in, the air thick with the scent of popcorn and gasoline. The flickering lights of the movie screen cast shadows across the rows of cars parked haphazardly, each filled with eager teenagers seeking a brief escape from the monotony of their everyday lives.

But for you, the Curtis sister, it spelled trouble. Perched on the hood of your twin brother Sodapop's car, you exchanged barbs with a group of Socs who had taken offense to your sharp retorts and fiery demeanor. Sodapop himself was inside the concession stand, chatting with a few friends, while your youngest brother Ponyboy was engrossed in a book, oblivious to the brewing confrontation outside. You’d never catch Darry at one of these movie nights anymore.

"You think you're real funny, huh?" one of the Socs sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he loomed over you, his companions snickering behind him.

You merely smirked, unfazed by the hostility radiating from the group. "Funny enough to make you clowns laugh, that's for sure."

Your words were met with a chorus of jeers and taunts, fueling the fire of your defiance as you squared your shoulders and met their gazes head-on. But just as the tension reached its boiling point, a looming figure emerged from the concession stand, cutting through the crowd with a swagger that commanded attention. For Dally always had his eyes on you. Especially after your parents passed.

Dallas Winston, the epitome of reckless abandon and untamed rebellion, emerged from the shadows like a predator stalking its prey. His presence alone commanded attention, the faint glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards the confrontation with an air of nonchalance.

As he drew closer, his leather jacket seemed to gleam in the dim light of the drive-in, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him like a phantom. His gaze swept over the scene before him, taking in every detail with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those unlucky enough to meet his stare. Dallas freaking Winston.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Dally drawled, his voice low and dripping with utter irritation as he finally spoke, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation before him.

The Socs, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, turned their attention to him, their expressions shifting from hostility to uncertainty as they recognized the infamous greaser in their midst. But despite their feigned courage, there was an underlying sense of unease in their demeanor, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked beneath Dally's cool exterior.

"This ain't none of your business, Winston," one of them muttered, his voice tinged with defiance but faltering in the face of Dally's imposing presence.

Dally merely smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stepped between them and you, effectively cutting off any further confrontation with his sheer presence alone. His posture radiated confidence, a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge him.

"I think it is now," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine as you watched from your perch on the hood of the car. “You made it my problem.”

There was a tense silence as the standoff continued, the air heavy with anticipation as both sides weighed their options. But before things could escalate further, Dally's gaze flickered towards the Socs with a silent warning, a promise of consequences should they choose to push their luck any further.

With a final, angry glance in their direction, the Socs begrudgingly backed down, their bravado no match for the steely resolve of the infamous greaser. And as they slunk away into the shadows, defeated but not defeated, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude mixed with a sense of awe at the enigmatic figure who had just saved you from a brawl you couldn't have won.

After Dallas stepped between you and the Socs, a cocky grin spread across his lips, revealing that usual glint of mischief in his eyes. "Your welcome, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he turned his attention to you.

You bristled at his audacity, your temper flaring like a matchstick ignited. With a roll of your eyes, you shot back, "Don't flatter yourself, tough guy. I could've handled those idiots just fine on my own."

Dallas chuckled, unfazed by your sharp retort. "Sure, looked like it," he remarked, his grin widening as he leaned against the hood of Sodapop's car, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. "You know, not everyone needs a knight in shining armor to come to their rescue."

Dally raised an eyebrow, his expression turning contemplative as he studied you. "Maybe not, but it sure beats getting your pretty face smashed in by a bunch of Soc’s."

Your cheeks flushed with indignation at his comment, but you couldn't deny the underlying truth in his words. With a huff of frustration, you conceded defeat, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, maybe I owe you one," you muttered under your breath, your pride refusing to let you admit defeat outright.

Dally's grin widened at your admission, a glimmer of triumph shining in his eyes. "You owe me more than just one, sweetheart," he replied, his tone teasing as he pushed himself off the car. and sauntered away, leaving you seething with a mixture of irritation and reluctant admiration.

While you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about Dallas Winston that both infuriated and intrigued you in equal measure. And as the night stretched on, you found yourself unable to shake the feeling that your paths were destined to cross time and time again, whether you liked it or not.

2. A Brush with the Law:

In the midst of your rebellious streak, you found yourself in a predicament that even your usually suave tongue couldn't talk your way out of. It was one of those nights where mischief seemed like the only way to break free from the suffocating grip of the mundane.

The evening began innocently enough, with you and a few friends roaming the streets in search of excitement. The city lights flickered like distant stars, casting shadows that danced along the pavement, teasing you with the promise of adventure. But as the night wore on, the allure of mischief grew stronger, pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing moment.

It started with harmless pranks and playful banter, the kind of mischief that left a trail of laughter in its wake. But as the hours stretched on and the adrenaline surged through your veins, the line between harmless fun and reckless abandon began to blur. The world became a playground, and you were determined to make the most of it, consequences be damned.

By now, the cops knew you on a first-name basis from all the petty trouble you had caused. They had become all too familiar with your antics, chasing after you like a dog chasing its tail, only to watch helplessly as you slipped through their fingers time and time again. They had warned you countless times, given you more chances than you deserved, but tonight felt different.

Tonight, there was a weariness in their eyes, a sense of resignation that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. They were tired. Tired of dealing with your antics, tired of letting you off with a warning only to see you back at it again the next day. It was as if they had reached the end of their patience, the final straw in a long line of frustrations that stretched back further than you cared to remember.

But even in the face of their stern warnings and thinly veiled threats, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. The thrill of rebellion was a drug, intoxicating and irresistible, and you were hooked. It was a dangerous game you played, dancing on the edge of disaster with reckless abandon, but in that moment, it was the only thing that made you feel truly alive. You needed it.

As they cornered you in the dimly lit alley, their voices stern and faces etched with grim determination, the threat of spending the night in jail loomed over you like a dark cloud. Panic gripped your chest in a vise-like grip, squeezing the air from your lungs as you frantically scanned the surroundings for a way out. But the walls of the alley closed in around you, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat's claws.

Your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences awaiting you if you were to be taken into custody. You couldn't shake the image of your oldest brother Darry's disappointed face, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern as he realized the extent of your latest misadventure. You knew he would be furious, not just at the trouble you had gotten yourself into, but at the worry and stress it would inevitably cause him and your other brothers. The fear of facing Darry's wrath was almost suffocating, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as you grappled with the realization of just how badly you had messed up. In your reckless pursuit of excitement and rebellion, you had failed to consider the consequences of your actions, the fallout that would inevitably follow in their wake.

Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a familiar figure emerged from the entrance of the alley, his presence a welcome relief in the darkness. Dallas Winston stepped forward with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his piercing gaze locking with the officers' with an unwavering intensity.

"Easy there, fellas," Dally drawled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that bordered on insolence. "No need to get your badges in a twist."

His words sliced through the tension in the alleyway like a well-honed blade, disrupting the somber atmosphere with an unexpected twist. The officers, taken aback by Dallas's nonchalant demeanor, exchanged wary glances, unsure of how to respond to his brazen defiance.

But Dally, ever the master of manipulation, wasted no time in seizing the opportunity to sway the officers to your side. With a casual shrug of his shoulders and a smirk dancing at the corners of his lips, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you and the law enforcement with a confidence that bordered on audacity.

"Look, we all know she's a handful," Dally continued, his voice smooth and persuasive, laced with an undertone of genuine concern. "But taking her in ain't gonna solve anything. Trust me, I've tried. You know what they’ve been through."

As he spoke, a flicker of empathy flashed in his eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the turmoil that had plagued your life since your parents' untimely demise. He knew all too well the pain of loss, the ache of abandonment that lingered long after the funeral flowers had withered away. And though he rarely showed it, there was a part of him that understood the reckless desperation that drove you to seek solace in acts of rebellion.

The officers, their resolve waning in the face of Dallas's persuasive charm, exchanged hesitant glances, silently wrestling with their conscience. They knew the Curtis family's tragic history, knew the burden of responsibility that weighed heavily on your shoulders in the wake of your parents' death. And as they looked into your eyes, they saw not a delinquent, but a lost soul searching for a way to fill the void left behind by loss and grief.

With a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world, the lead officer relented. His shoulders slumped in defeat; the lines of exhaustion etched deeply into his weary face as he stepped aside to allow you to pass. "Fine," he grumbled, the resignation evident in his voice, "but this is the last time."

His words hung heavy in the air, a somber reminder of the precarious balance between leniency and accountability that governed their duties as law enforcement officers. They had given you more chances than you deserved, turned a blind eye to your transgressions time and time again, but they knew that their patience was wearing thin. There was only so much they could overlook before the hammer of justice came crashing down with unrelenting force.

Dally, ever the opportunist, seized upon the moment of vulnerability with a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He nodded in acknowledgment, a silent acknowledgment of their unspoken agreement as he draped an arm around your shoulders with an air of possessiveness. "Appreciate it, fellas," he remarked, his voice oozing with satisfaction as he guided you away from the alley, away from the looming threat of incarceration.

And as you walked side by side into the night, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had come to your rescue once again. You glanced up at him, the flickering streetlights casting shadows across his features, and offered him a tentative smile of thanks. It was a small gesture, a token of appreciation for his unwavering loyalty and unyielding support in the face of adversity.

As you looked at him, his cocky grin softened by a flicker of genuine concern, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, now held a warmth that caught you off guard, melting away the layers of cockiness to reveal a glimmer of vulnerability beneath.

But before you could dwell on it further, Dally's voice broke through your reverie, his words laced with a hint of amusement that conveyed the seriousness lurking just beneath the surface.

"You're quite the troublemaker, sweetheart," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with a note of concern.

You rolled your eyes in response, a smirk of your own tugging at the corners of your lips. "And you're quite the smooth talker, Winston," you replied, unable to hide the admiration in your voice despite your best efforts.

As the words left your lips, Dally's expression shifted, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. There was a weightiness to his gaze, a silent question lingering in the air as he studied you intently, his eyes searching for the truth behind your casual facade.

"Hey, are you actually alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, stripped of its usual playfulness. His concern was palpable, genuine, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he typically presented to the world. "This isn't like you, getting caught by the fuzz like that."

His unexpected tenderness caught you off guard, the sincerity in his question piercing through the layers bullshit you typically wore like armour. You hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the depth of his concern, before offering him a small nod of reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the words felt hollow even to your own ears. You forced a casual tone, hoping to brush off the weight of his inquiry, the nagging doubts that gnawed at the edges of your mind. "Just got a little carried away, that's all."

But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn't just a momentary lapse in judgment. There was a restlessness inside you, a longing for something more than the mundane routine of everyday life, that drove you to seek out trouble wherever you could find it. And in that moment, as you stood before Dally with his piercing gaze fixed upon you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you.

Dally continued to study you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding. He didn't press further, sensing that there was more to your story than you were willing to reveal. Instead, he offered you a small, understanding smile, a silent reassurance that he would be there for you whenever you were ready to open up.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

His words caught you off guard, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity behind them. And as you met his gaze, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

With a subtle squeeze of his arm around your shoulders, Dally offered you a reassuring smile, a silent promise that he would always be there to watch your back, no matter what trouble you managed to find yourself in. And as you walked side by side into the night, the echoes of his words mingling with the sounds of the city, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

3. Escaping a Sticky Situation:

As the Friday night lights illuminated the football field, casting a glow of excitement over the small town, the air crackled with anticipation. It was meant to be a harmless prank, a bit of mischief to inject some excitement into the dull routine of small-town life. But what had started as a simple joke quickly spiraled out of control, and you, the Curtis sister, found yourself in a precarious situation.

The prank had been innocent enough at first—a bit of good-natured rivalry between the Greasers and the Socs. However, things took a dangerous turn when the Soc boys, their egos bruised and their tempers flaring, decided to retaliate with more than just words. They targeted you, singling you out from the crowd, their menacing glares and clenched fists leaving no doubt about their intentions.

Your heart raced with adrenaline, panic clawing at your chest as you frantically searched for a way out of the tightening circle of Soc boys. But as the situation grew more dire, Dallas Winston yet again emerged like a savior in the darkness, his presence a welcome relief amidst the chaos and looming threat of violence. By this point you were convinced it was your brothers who had him watching you for how else could he, quite literally, always be there to say you from these situations?

As the chaos unfolded near the stands, Dallas Winston's arrival seemed almost surreal. At first, his laughter echoed across the small courtyard area, a stark contrast to the tension thickening the air. But as he surveyed the scene, his amusement quickly morphed into a glare of righteous anger.

"Buncha tough guys picking on a little lady, huh?" Dally's voice cut through the chaos like a knife, his tone dripping with disdain as he confronted the Soc boys. His words carried a weight of accusation, a challenge to their masculinity and decency.

As Dally's words hung in the air, the Soc boys hesitated, their usual boastfulness faltering under his scathing gaze. But one of them, bolder—or perhaps more foolish—than the rest, reached out and laid a hand on your arm, his grip tight and menacing.

Instantly, Dally saw red.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, his fists flying in a blur of motion as he unleashed a barrage of punches on the Soc who dared to lay hands on you. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, the sound echoing across the field like a drumbeat of fury.

The other Soc boys, realizing their mistake too late, attempted to intervene, but Dally was a force to be reckoned with. With a ferocity born of righteous anger, he fought like a man possessed, his only thought to protect you from harm.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was likely only seconds, Dally's onslaught came to an end. The Soc who had dared to touch you lay crumpled on the ground, bloodied, and bruised, but alive.

Dally stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline, his eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and triumph. The other Soc's had long since fled, likely for help. But he didn’t give a damn. His attention was now on you. And as he turned to you, his expression softened with a mixture of relief and concern, seeing you standing there relatively unharmed. It was when he saw the tears in your eyes that he knew he had to do something.

Dally's gaze softened further as he approached you with caution, the fire in his eyes dimming to reveal a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He reached out tentatively, his rough hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded moments before.

"Hey, it's alright, sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to the turmoil raging inside you. "You're okay. It’ll be alright." He attempted to console you as best as he could, however it wasn’t his strong suit.

But the tears continued to flow unabated, a testament to the fear and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You tried to hold them back, to maintain the facade of strength and resilience that had always been your shield against the world. But in that moment, with Dally standing before you, all of your defenses crumbled.

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you buried your face in your hands, the weight of the night crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You could feel the tremors wracking your body, the sobs tearing from your throat in ragged gasps.

Dally watched you carefully, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. Without a bit of hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, pulling you close to his chest as if to shield you from the world's cruelties. His arms felt surprisingly comforting, a safe haven amidst the chaos that had engulfed you.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's okay to let it out," he whispered gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your storm. "You're safe now, darlin'. I've got you."

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, calming the storm of emotions raging inside you. For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace, to find solace in the warmth of his presence. As the tears continued to fall, Dally held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. He didn't try to offer empty reassurances or false promises. Instead, he simply held you, a silent pillar of strength in the darkness.

The Unexpected Thank You:

As the weight of the night's events settled upon your shoulders like a heavy cloak, you couldn't help but feel a wave of vulnerability wash over you. The adrenaline that had fueled you earlier now gave way to a profound sense of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. And in the quiet solitude of the street, with only Dally's presence beside you, you felt the walls you had carefully built around your heart begin to crumble.

"Thank you, Dallas," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a rawness you hadn't expected. "For everything."

Your words hung in the air, vulnerable and exposed, a stark contrast to the tough exterior you usually wore like armor. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, as if a weight had been lifted from your chest. For so long, you had been carrying the burden of your troubles alone, too afraid to let anyone else see the cracks in your facade. But with Dally standing beside you, offering a silent anchor in the storm, you found yourself finally able to let go.

When you looked into his eyes, you saw something flicker beneath the tough exterior, something vulnerable and achingly human. It was a mirror of your own inner turmoil, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and loneliness that lurked within you both. And in that shared moment of vulnerability, you realized that perhaps, just perhaps, you were more alike than you had ever dared to imagine.

As Dally enveloped you in his embrace for the second time that night, his arms offering solace and refuge, a tender silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sound of your quiet sobs. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of the emotions coursing through you both. But as you held each other close, your hearts spoke volumes, weaving a silent symphony of understanding and compassion.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, you know," Dally murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "It's okay to let yourself feel, to let yourself grieve."

His words resonated deep within you, stirring a bittersweet ache in your chest. For so long, you had tried to bury your pain beneath layers of confidence and defiance, afraid to confront the gaping hole that your mother and fathers absence had left behind. But in Dally's embrace, you found the courage to face your demons, to confront the rawness of your grief without fear of judgment or rejection.

With trembling hands, you clung to him, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. And as you spoke of your mother, of the memories that still lingered like ghosts in the corners of your mind, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you, as if by giving voice to your pain, you could finally set yourself free.

"I miss her, Dally. I miss them," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. "Every day, it feels like a piece of me is missing. Like I'm lost without her. She was my best friend and now she’s just gone.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the relentless passage of time. And as you gazed into Dally's eyes, you saw your own pain reflected back at you, a shared understanding that transcended words.

"You're not alone, sweetheart," Dally replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I may not have all the answers, but I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

In that moment, you felt a surge of gratitude and affection for the tough greaser who had stood by your side through thick and thin. In his arms, you found a sense of belonging you had never known, a sanctuary from the storm of emotions that raged within you.

In the hushed intimacy of your embrace, the turmoil within you quieted, replaced by a sense of tranquility you had never known. But amidst the stillness, a storm raged within you, a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.

With each steady heartbeat, you felt the tendrils of affection wrapping around your heart, weaving a tapestry of emotions you struggled to comprehend. The way his touch ignited a warmth deep within you, the way his voice soothed the turmoil of your soul — these were sensations you had never experienced before, and yet they felt undeniably right.

As you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you couldn't shake the realization that your feelings for Dally surpassed mere gratitude or admiration. It was something more, something you couldn't quite put into words but felt with every fiber of your being.

In the quiet of the night, you allowed yourself to explore these newfound emotions, to sift through the tangled mess of your thoughts and feelings. And in doing so, you came to a startling revelation — you liked him, more than you had ever dared to admit.

But the thought of confessing your feelings to Dally filled you with a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if your friendship was forever altered by your admission? Yet, as you glanced up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, you saw a vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored your own. Perhaps, you thought, he felt the same way — a silent understanding that transcended words.

Summoning your courage, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to do. With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, your touch feather-light against his stubbled skin.

"Dally," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I need to tell you."

As your eyes met, you sensed an unspoken understanding passing between you. Without needing further words, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. It was a tender gesture, filled with reassurance and affection, a silent promise of his unwavering support and care.

But before you could utter another word, Dally's hand gently tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours with a intensity that made your heart race.

"I need to tell you something too," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the soft night breeze.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.

"Doll," he continued, his voice husky with emotion, "I've been wanting to say this for a while now, but I ain't never found the right words. I reckon there’s no fancy way to put it, so I'll just say it straight."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before meeting your gaze once more.

"I love you," he confessed, his words hanging in the air like a sacred vow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, emotions swirling within you like a tempest. For so long, you had harbored these feelings, afraid to voice them, afraid of what they might mean for your friendship, for your future. But now, as those three simple words hung in the air between you, you felt as if a weight had been lifted from your chest, replaced by a warmth that radiated from the very core of your being.

You searched his eyes, seeking confirmation of the truth you dared to believe. And there, amidst the depths of his gaze, you found it — sincerity, vulnerability, and a love that mirrored your own. It was a revelation that left you breathless, a realization that this connection you shared transcended the boundaries of friendship, binding you together in a bond that felt unbreakable.

"I love you too, Dally," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, as if afraid that speaking the words aloud would make them disappear into the night.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading into insignificance as you both basked in the sheer weight of those words. They held within them the promise of a future unknown, yet somehow certain in its inevitability. And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, you felt a sense of belonging wash over you, as if you had finally found your place in the world.

With his arms around you, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, no matter what storms threatened to tear you apart, you had each other. Together, you could weather any adversity, conquer any obstacle that stood in your path. For in each other's arms, you found strength, comfort, and a love that knew no bounds.

"Hey," he whispered softly, his breath tickling your ear as he held you close. "You don't have to say anything more. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere."

For the first time in a while you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a profound gratitude for the man who stood by your side through thick and thin. With a heartfelt sigh, you nestled against him, finding solace in his presence as you stood together beneath the starlit sky. In his embrace, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the uncertainties of the world outside. And as you looked up at the twinkling stars above, you knew that your love would light the way through even the darkest of nights, guiding you towards a future filled with endless possibilities.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

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simplesoup · 2 months ago

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Sweet but psycho

Bakugou x F!Reader

Who the hell willingly dates a man known for being a stuck up asshole?

know for throwing insults and yelling?

You….

Katsuki and you were a couple… a couple so many people questioned why were you a angel in the eyes of all the teachers and your friends dating Bakugou?

The better question is HOW? you were a student in UA too but you weren’t in class 1A hell you weren’t even in class 1B! You were in class 1H yep! The hero support class!

You had met Bakugou when he had walked in demanding to have better gauntlets made he was being a asshole to your class mate so you stepped in starting with your normal sweet and calm demeanor however this guy was a damn asshole. You quickly lost your patience’s slamming your hands down on the table “You don’t know what you even talking about extra” you mocked him “IM THE BEST YOU GONNA GET YOU WANT UPGRADES GROW A PAIR AND ASK NICELY OR FUCK OFF ASSHOLE!” you pointed to the door you weren’t gonna let this 1A asshole push you around

After a moment of silence and the blonde being absolutely lost for words he put the gauntlet down infront of you and started talking to you like a normal person pointing out flaws and what he wanted fixed and upgraded

you returned back to your calm demeanor writing down notes looking at the equipment it was interesting and it really did go well with his quirk. You took him up on his ask though you could have been an asshole and told him to fuck off.

after that day you started seeing the blonde more often he seemed to bump into you on purpose you thought it would end after you were done with his gauntlets? WRONG! he started just coming to see you for the smallest things and you started catching on

“Oi 1A extra quite staring at me use your words” you giggled looking at him “I have master your ways” you winked

“Nahh gonna have to date me to figure me out fully…. I’ll pick you up at 8 dress up we’re getting spicy soba”

you were not expecting that but couldn’t hold back the smile that creeped on your face “I’d rather just skip to the bed~” you grinned watching his face but he walked closer and got up in your personal space “That is cheaper then taking you out if that’s what you want then I suppose that can be arranged”

you giggled and blushed looking away from him a bit flustered

“I’ll bring extra clothes then”

“Good idea”

after that night you two were officially a couple! Guess the sex really was that damn good

the mystery’s of you two getting together spread throughout the school the rumors were hilarious to you. But it all became very obvious when that clown from 1A tried flirting with you before bakugou had even had a chance to react you had that rotten grape right where he belonged the damn trash can with a nice purple eye “Die! Pervert!” You joined bakugou sitting right next to him pursing you lips for a kiss

“That’s my Damn firecracker!” He kissed you

“So manly!”

“GET A ROOM Bakubro!”

((yay or nay?))

#mha #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #kacchan

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burningcheese-merchant · 7 days ago

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Wake up, BurningCheese/GoldenSpice babes, new poorly drawn blorbos just dropped

They look cooler in my head, I swear.

the images didn't show up the first time wtf lol

The kids are finally here, yay. I promised I'd show you them, and I finally stopped being an asshole and followed through. Almost got 200 followers and I'm very grateful for it - really, I'm nobody. I'm just some clown who says dumb stuff and makes dumb memes and writes cringey stories, and yet I convinced almost 200 people to tune in. Thank you all so much, users on here and anons in my inbox alike. As a token of appreciation, you can all endure my rambling about my OCs and witness a person in their early 20s draw like a 12 year old.

The boy is Pepper Jack (or Pepper Jack Cookie). He's the firstborn and older than his sister by a few years. He takes after his mother in a lot of ways, primarily in her appearance (save for nabbing his father's red eyes). He's incredibly bright (and a smartass lol), preferring to think his way out of conflict rather than fight his way out... not that he's above violence at all, if that glaive doesn't give it away lol. He harbors a deep sense of love and loyalty towards his family and his peoples, and carries the weight of his responsibilities and heritage with as much confidence and poise as he can muster. (There are/will be times where he stumbles, of course. He's not perfect. He struggles a lot more than he lets on, really. But he tries his best, for everyone's sake.)

The girl is Matar Paneer (or Matar Paneer Cookie). Again, she's the younger one by a few years. She was all but made in her father's image, save for inheriting her mother's eyes. She's a little firecracker: lively and fun-loving and stubborn as a mule. She doesn't ask "can I have/do this thing", she tells you "I'm going to have/do this thing". Golden is proud as anything to see her daughter be so greedy... until that greed comes into conflict with her and Spice's authority lol. But she's a good kid, despite being such a handful. She has an enormous heart and is not afraid to stand up for others/what's right, and she loves her parents and brother more than anything in the world. She might doubt her own capabilities, she might secretly fear that she's not strong enough to do what she needs to... but she keeps pushing anyway, because she'd honestly choose death over quitting.

Your eyes are not deceiving you, Pepper Jack's wings are blue lol. There's an actual reason for that. And that USO (Unidentified Sitting Object) in Matar Paneer's hair is a lotus (the cheese one in the GCK decor set lol). There's a reason for that, too. I thought it would be cool to give Jack a glaive and swap out the normal blade for that of a khopesh sword (glaives are not Egyptian, they only saw use in Asia and Europe, but I just HAD to give him a glaive), to add that Egyptian touch. Paneer's supposed to be wearing a pattu pavadai, it's a traditional Indian dress for young girls. It's a blouse plus a skirt. She's holding katar, Indian knives (Cilantro Cobra has them, too). And her hair's supposed to be in a low ponytail.

Merchant thinks that if they explain what their terrible drawings are supposed to convey, people will understand their intended vision and the pain will stop

I sat down and did research into both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for the sake of drawing inspiration for them both. I'll explain in detail in another post, but basically: both of them take after one Egyptian god and one Hindu god each. Golden takes after Ra and Spice takes after Shiva, so I figured I'd follow along that line.

Please flood my inbox with questions about them now. I've really been dying to talk about them for ages now. I've drafted extensive character sheets for them both, I even made up in-game descriptions for them lol. They're my little fankid blorbos and I love them :') I hope you all come to love them, too

(Also, I'm sorry they're on lined paper. I'm visiting family rn and that's the only paper my grandmother has in her house. I'd have to drive to a stationery to get printer paper and I'd really rather not drive in this particular country lol (shit roads, even shittier drivers). I'll doodle them on printer paper whenever somebody remembers to bring me some)

#haha spicy cheese and cheesy curry. Get it?#also... when you accidentally indirectly ship Ra x Shiva via making up kids technically born from them lol. Does this count as Old Man Yaoi #(jk I mean no disrespect whatsoever. These gods/faiths are and were important to people and I don't mean to offend)#(I genuinely love learning about other religions and I had fun being inspired by these ones)#(seriously I went ham with this shit. Pepper Jack's birth is based on an Egyptian creation myth lol)#These two have long roads ahead of them. They're going to struggle and get hurt. But they'll pull through and come back better than before #fr please ask me stuff about them. I need an excuse to ramble for 10k words #you can even ask stupid shit like what their favorite color is #I love these two. I feel like their crazy grandma lol #also I have lots of thoughts wrt Spice & Golden as parents and their thoughts/feelings about parenthood #plus their individual relationships with each child #so you can expect me to rant about that too lol #maybe someday Merchant will shut the fuck up #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #cookie run oc #cookie run fankid #pepper jack cookie #matar paneer cookie

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head-explode · 1 year ago

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Me fr

voltorb girl who stims by blowing up over and over

#cracker.wav #firecracker the clown #rotomblr #rotumblr #pkmn irl

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sporadicthingcollection · 10 months ago

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Godemiché (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: Do you know it’s him that’s fucking you?

Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader

Rating: 🌶️ Explicit 🌶️

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: Dubcon elements, improper use of Devil Fruit powers.

A/N: i do not know what possessed me to write this.

———

It started as a joke. You, a sprightly young thing with twinkling eyes and a dirty sense of humor, unused to the close quarters that came with crewing on a ship. Him, a dirty old bastard with a detachable cock. He presented it to you in a soft cloth bag, grinning mischievously.

“Use it in the dark,” he said with a wink.

He didn't think you would. He thought he'd hear a scream in the middle of the night followed by you slapping him with it the next morning. He may have grown older, but he never really grew up.

But no.

What he feels that night, just as he's drifting off to sleep, is a delicate hand around his shaft. He jerks upright, head whipping around to catch the intruder and hand going to his crotch.

But there's nothing there, neither tackle nor intruder. He panics a moment, only to remember what he’d done and where it is.

It’s currently in your possession. And you’re using it.

The gentle prickle of hair tickles his shaft. You must be sliding it between your pussy lips. How’d you know he was weak for that? For a woman in her natural, unkempt state?

And then it grows warm and smooth and wet. He’s inside you. He feels your muscles shift as you take all of him, easing him in and out, getting him good and lubricated.

He almost chokes.

You’re already quite wet, and it slips and slides in and out with ease. Hot cunt, cool air. He grinds into the air, gasping with each distant thrust.

You grow slicker with each pump. Finally, you take him to the hilt, his entire cock sheathed inside your warmth. You clench him tight.

The air isn't enough. He groans and flips onto his belly. Grabbing a pillow, he mounts it like a dog in heat.

He squeezes his eyes shut. If he pretends, if he thinks real hard, it can be you. He is fucking you, after all. It’s not like he hasn’t been dreaming of this since you climbed aboard — hell, even before that, when he first saw you milling about the docks.

Do you know? he wonders as his hips grind. Do you know it's him that’s fucking you?

Your walls flutter, pulling him deeper. You’re coming. And coming. And coming. Must have been a long one. He wishes he could see you fold and buck and your eyes screw shut and your breath hitch and—

He tries not to come. He tries so, so hard. But he fails.

Burying his face in the mattress, he whines your name, high and sweet as a cotton candy cloud. He grinds his hips into the pillow, praying that he’s dreaming and that he’ll open his eyes to see you underneath him.

But alas.

He empties fast and plummets back to Earth. Falling to the side, he reflects on what a pathetic, dirty old man he is.

He can't look you in the eye the next morning. Avoids you at breakfast. Dodges you all afternoon. But you corner him in the evening. Quite literally. He's in the aft hold when you get between him and the door.

Your hands darts out. In a few quick movements, you've undone his trousers and jerked them open. He's too stunned to even cover himself.

Pulling his waistband away from his body, you withdraw something from your pocket and drop it inside. He expects an ice cube. Or a firecracker. He braces himself for pain...

... But it doesn't come. Instead, his equipment returns to its rightful spot, a red silk ribbon tied in a bow adorning his shaft.

“You can have it back, but I’m gonna need that again soon,” you say. You give him a saucy wink and slip out the door.

Well. Seems like you did know.

———

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes

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mrsdesade · 3 months ago

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hi, I loved your s4 writings (the one with sister sage and the other one with ryan). if you want to, can you write something with firecracker and ophera as rivals? maybe ophera wants to kick her out of the Seven or she protects Ryan from her. I'm sure anything you write will be great.

btw your art is gorgeous, I love your ophera design!! I'm a beginner artist, and your work really inspires me to learn and be better in this.

Sure!! I love exploring interactions and relationships with other characters from the series (any suggestions is more than welcome), but I suppose now is Firecraker's turn ❤️‍🔥

Btw, thank you for your kind words, I'm honoured! Keep going and never stop drawing! ✨

The fire inside;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (Ophera) + villain!Firecracker TW: dark themes, violence, blood, torture, revenge p**n and nsfw (mentioned), Herogasm situation (mentioned) Timeline: season 4 Words count: 6,2k

''I know what's better for him. And for his father too. Anything. I'll do anything for them.''

Firecracker's pedantic voice filled the Seven's common room, while you were the only ones there, waiting for the morning meeting. At first your interactions seemed to go well, there was a sort of mutual respect. She didn't get in the way of your plans. You didn't get in her way as well.

But for some reasons unknown to you, from the moment you were introduced to Ryan, something has changed. Jealousy. Horrible jealousy had begun to flow through the veins of the fiery new addition to the team. You are what she always wanted to be, famous, admired, probably loved.

''I don't expect the same from you. But have the decency to step back and make room for me, who knows what I'm doing."

''You don't know what you're talking about Firecracker. Stay away from Homelander business, it's better for everyone."

The coldness of your demeanor and the superiority complex you exuded, clearly touched a raw nerve.

She took a step closer towards you, trying to look intimidating. Though it felt more like an act than anything else. Firecracker's slender form was considerably shorter, the height difference making it even more ridiculous.

''Better for everyone? Including Ryan? Do you think you're good for him?''

You had no difficulty maintaining a cold gaze, your expression remaining completely stoic. You stood confident, exuding a sense of superiority over her, as if letting her know that you were definitely better, without a doubt. You hadn't appreciated Homelander's decision to make you responsible for Ryan, as if you were his ''mother'', but you decided that you would protect him at all cost.

Firecracker was taken aback by your cold response, not expecting such a confident and dismissive reply. She gritted her teeth, her fists clenching involuntarily at her sides.

"You really think you're something, don't you? Just because Homelander choose you as his public partner? You're just a clown performing on the stage. I bring the truth to people!"

You kept your composure, not showing any signs of intimidation or defensiveness in the face of her aggression. Instead, you let out a soft, mocking laugh, the sound dripping with disdain.

"Please, spare me the charade. You think I'm intimidated by this little act of yours? Things cannot change."

"Act?!" she replied, her voice taut with anger. "I could burn you alive without breaking a sweat. Do you really want to test me?"

You raised an eyebrow at her threat, silently amused by the level of her arrogance. You took another step closer, your confident smile refusing to waver.

''Your weak fire cannot destroy the metal in my body.''

Just as the tension between you was reaching its peak, the sound of the meeting room door opening broke through the air, interrupting the heated moment. Before any further exchange could take place, the door to the conference room swung open. Homelander and The Deep entered, breaking the standoff between you two.

They were deep in conversation, not even noticing the tense atmosphere in the room. Firecracker quickly composed herself, masking her annoyance with a forced smile, while you maintained your composure, watching the two as they approached.

"Ah, there you are. Arrived early this morning, good girls." Homelander said, finally taking notice of you two. He gave you a friendly nod before turning his gaze to Firecracker, his eyes showing annoyance at her big smile.

The Deep shifted uncomfortably, clearly feeling the lingering tension in the room. "Everything okay?" he asked, glancing between you and her.

Firecracker's fake smile remained plastered on her face, her voice dripping with faux cheerfulness. "Everything's perfect!" she replied, shooting you a quick, insincere glance.

And the scene ends like this, you took your seat beside Homelander and you really hope you've been clear enough with her. You hope it no longer intrudes on the extremely delicate balance you're trying to maintain between you, Ryan and his father.

The day quickly transitioned into night, and with most of the Seven dispersed for the evening, you were walking through the now-deserted hall when you heard footsteps approaching. Turning, you saw Firecracker walking towards you, a malicious smile on her face.

''No, not you again, please.''

"We're on the same team silly, did you forget already?" she said, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I was hoping I'd run into you tonight, I have something important to discuss with you."

Her tone was almost too sweet, the false cheerfulness making your stomach churn. "What do you want?" you asked curtly, keeping your voice cold and detached.

"Come on, no need to be so cold." She stepped closer to you, invading your personal space.

You roll your eyes, bored by his extreme closeness. And you decide to move the conversation with a sarcastic tone. ''If you get any closer, I'll start to think that you have some special interest in me. And I don't think Homelander would be happy about that. He is very jealous of his possessions.''

Firecracker's smile faltered for a millisecond at the indirect mention of Homelander. She clenched her jaws, her eyes narrowing slightly, before regaining her composure.

"Don't flatter yourself Ophera. I don't have any ''special'' interest in you." despite her denial, you caught the hint of defensiveness in her tone. Clearly, the idea of you being the object of Homelander's interest and not her had struck a nerve.

"Then what do you want?" you asked point-blank, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I got something about you.''

You raised an eyebrow, trying to appear unruffled. "Oh? And I'm curious what that might be?"

"I have a video. A video of you in… a very compromising position. That, If it were to go public..." she began, her voice dripping with venomous honey. "...would really damage your reputation."

A chill went down your spine as her words stung. You managed to keep your expression relatively blank, but inside you felt a wave of anxiety. How did she get a video of you? Your mind raced, trying to remember any situations where you could have been secretly filmed.

Or she was lying, maybe it's just a bluff, of course, it has to be like that. "Oh please, you're bluffing.''

"Bluffing? No, unfortunately for you, I'm not." she replied, her voice dripping with feigned sympathy.

''Then prove it. Show me this so-called video." you say with a confident grin on your face, keeping your arms crossed over your chest, still thinking she's lying.

"Sure, just to make things clear, let me show you…" Firecracker pulled out her phone, scrolling through the gallery to find the video. Your heart sank into your stomach as you watched Firecracker produce her phone. She was not bluffing. She really seemed to have something. A real video that would certainly cause a scandal.

She found the video and held the display towards you. You could clearly see yourself in the video. In one of your best Herogasm performances. You were always untouchable at that particular event, no one dared to touch you since you were Homelander's public partner. But someone's company wasn't necessary, you could perfectly satisfy yourself on your own, all you needed was an adoring audience watching you.

You had always been so careful, so meticulous in keeping your activities discreet. And yet, here was proof, captured on camera. HD. 4K.

Your initial reaction was anger, both at her for having the video and at yourself for being so unwary. But there was something else behind the anger, an even more primal feeling: fear. The fear of having your reputation and your place in the Seven ruined by one video.

She pushed the phone closer to your face, forcing you to look at the damning footage again. "Imagine this being leaked. How do you think the public would react? How would Homelander react?"

The thought of the whole America seeing this video, the idea of Hoemlander seeing it, his reaction, the damage it could cause - it was all too much to consider. The rage that had just barely been contained now exploded. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, your mind swirling with worst-case scenarios.

"Where did you get this?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky despite your attempts to keep it steady. "Who else has seen it?"

''I have my sources." she responded with a smile. "And don't worry, as of now only I have seen it. But who knows what might happen if this were to get into the wrong hands…"

You stared straight into Firecracker's eyes with a burning glare.

''You have ten seconds to give me just one good reason not to punch you in the face, and destroy your phone with that damn video inside.''

She had underestimated the anger beneath your cool veneer, and now she was taken aback by your threat. Her bravado waned slightly.

"Oh, look to you, all threatening and violence." she said sarcastically, trying to mask her momentary alarm. "Are you sure you want to do that? Even if you break my phone, I have the video backed up. Now, you, the American sweetheart, are about to do exactly as I say."

"I'm listening." you answered coldly and defeated, the anger in your voice barely leashed.

''Mmh. Rather than just listening, maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings, danger can hide at every corner.'' she smirked, triumph radiating from her. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

You can sense something is wrong, a negative feeling invades your chest. It's too quiet around you, and the Tower of Seven never is. She gave you a smile as realization slowly dawned on you. You had been so focused on the confrontation with her that you hadn't noticed the silence that had enveloped the area around you. Her words, though vague, were starting to paint a more alarming picture.

''What the hell are you talking about?''

''You'll see. Very soon.''

Your worst fears were confirmed when unexpected hands seized you from behind. Strangers. They grabbed you from various points around your body, rendering you unable to struggle as they forced you to the floor.

You feel a needle prick your neck, and an icy liquid invade your veins, making your powers temporarily unusable. You struggled against their grasp, but it was in vain. Now the masked strangers were stronger than you, their grip on you unyielding. You were in the middle of what seemed to be a very well-planned and synchronized kidnapping.

"Don't even bother struggling. They've been paid a lot of money for this. And they're very professional." she said, approaching you as you lay helpless on the floor.

''Ah! Good luck trying to kill me, it won't be that easy!'' you reply, but the strength that usually coursed through your veins seemed to have deserted you, leaving you at the mercy of these unknown individuals.

"Who said anything about killing? Oh no, no. I have something special planned for you, love. I have more creative plans for you.''

''Fuck yourself, crazy ass bitch.'' you're spitting venom with your words, the desire to destroy them all is tearing you apart.

"You see Ophera, I know you're invincible, or that you like to think yourself of such." she continued, her tone mocking. "But now, thanks to that little injection of Compound V inhibitor they've just shot you with, you're quite defenseless."

''The effect of the inhibitor will not last forever, you know that?''

''Yeah, I know silly! But it will last long enough to make you disappear. Gone, forever. No more shows, no new albums, no afternoon with Ryan, no gala dinner with the Seven.''

Then Firecracker reached down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her face.

"And Homelander won't be happy, when he comes back and finds out you're gone. Without any warning or goodbye messages. Oh, I can't wait to see the look on his face."

Despite the effects of the drug rapidly dulling your senses and your powers, a little smirk escaped your lips.

"Oh please… You really think that's going to work? You really think Homelander won't figure it out? He's not blind to obvious sabotage, trust me. He'll find me."

"You think you know everything, don't you? It's time for a reality check, love. This isn't just about a spot in the Seven, this is about making sure Homelander looks at me, me and not you. I want his attention, his praise, his everything. He's the one I want and nothing will stand in my way."

You locked eyes with her, your voice strangely calm despite the effects of the drug and your weakening state. You laughed bitterly.

"You think it's all sunshine and rainbows, being his favourite? Please, you're more stupid than I thought. Homelander's love could be a death sentence. To have his twisted obsession on you. His attention can be a curse as much as it can be a blessing. You're pathetic. And you don't know anything about the burden of being his beloved, trust me."

Surprise is clear on her face. The way you talked, the way you described being Homelander's favorite... for a moment, she didn't know how to react to your words.

"Oh, I bet it's soooo hard being Homelander's little sweetheart, getting all the fame and recognition while the rest of us have to fight for scraps." she spit with venomous sarcasm. "Boo-hoo, poor you, suffering under his terrible twisted obsession. You have everything! His love, his attention, his hands on you… Fuck, you're his damn public girlfriend! You have no idea what I'd give to be in your place."

There it was-the truth. The real reason behind her hostility, her jealousy, her attempts to bring you down.

''I don't think... I don't think you know... what it means to be in my place. His… isn't… love. You're going to...hurt yourself-''

Before you could finish your sentence, your vision began to blur and your head grew heavy with fatigue. The drug finally taking hold, you lost consciousness, sinking into oblivion.

Firecracker gestured to the group of men, and one of them picked you up effortlessly.

"Now. Time for the final act. You know the plan, take her somewhere isolated and secret. And make damn sure no one finds her. Respect the orders, no one will have to recognize her, ruin that pretty face as best you can.''

The masked men nodded in response, lifting your unconscious body with ease and proceeding to carry you to a waiting van outside the Tower. Once you were safely inside, the van doors shut with a loud thud, and the vehicle soon vanished into the night.

Firecracker felt a surge of triumph. Her plan had gone flawlessly. You were gone, out of the picture-at least for the foreseeable future. But the taste of victory was bittersweet. Deep down, she knew that once Homelander discovered your disappearance, hell would break loose.

Indefinite moments, minutes, hours pass. You can't say how much has passed since that evening.

Your eyelids flickered open, a disoriented groan escaping your lips. Your head throbbed with a dull pain, and for a few moments your vision remained a blurry mess. Then, slowly, your surroundings began to come into focus. You were in an abandoned warehouse, the air thick with dust and a musty scent. The walls were crumbling, and the silence around you was interrupted only by the sound of your own shallow breathing.

You tried to move, but quickly realized your limbs were tightly bound to a chair. You felt the bite of rough rope against your skin, the tight ropes digging into your flesh as you struggled. The abandoned warehouse was cold and eerie, the only company provided by the ominous figures that stood guard around you. They were all wearing masks, making it impossible for you to identify any of them.

"Oh great, this isn't a cliché scenario at all…" you muttered sarcastically, your eyes scanning the area for any potential escape route.

One of the men, the tallest one, stepped closer to you at the sound of your voice. He took a couple of seconds to assess your situation before speaking up in a low voice.

"Looks like our little songbird finally woke up. I hope you're comfortable." he said, a hint of mockery underlying his words.

"Well, this is a lovely place you've brought me to." you drawled, feigning nonchalance. "Not exactly the five-star hotel I booked last week."

Despite the situation, the guard chuckled at your sarcastic reply. "Oh, sorry to disappoint. Our five-star prisoner need another room? Unfortunately they're all booked.''

You rolled your eyes, silently thinking of the countless witty comebacks that were at your fingertips but couldn't be voiced at the moment.

Then the men leaned in closer, now mere inches from you. "Now, enough chitchat. We've been paid to keep you here and we have strict orders to follow. So, do us all a favor, stay cooperative and keep your pretty mouth shut."

Their cold demeanor and close proximity sent chills down your spine. It was clear they were not here to joke around. One of the other guys stepped forwards, standing almost directly behind you.

"We were paid for a specific task." he chimed in, his voice dripping with a mocking sweetness. "And that task is: to make you as unrecognizable as possible."

His words sent a new wave of fear coursing through you. Unrecognizable. What the hell did that mean?

You swallowed heavily, a sense of dread beginning to grow in the pit of your stomach. "What exactly do you mean by unrecognizable?"

''Just a few…adjustments to your lovely face, body and maybe hair." the man behind you said.

They really intend to disfigure your face? Ruin your body and fill you with scars? Of course. So that you are no longer fit to be in the spotlight. That's one of your greatest fears, even more than great heights perhaps. You struggled against the ropes binding your wrists and legs, trying to break free, but the only result was the ropes digging into your skin even more.

The man behind you chuckled at your struggles. "Don't bother trying to break free. You aren't going anywhere.''

Another man, the largest one, spoke up. "Yeah, so save your energy for what's coming next."

The tall man started to circle around you, examining you from different angles like a piece of meat on display. Each circle he made around you sent a new wave of disgust through your body, and you had to resist the urge to spit at him.

''So, what's coming next assholes?''

He stopped in front of you, a cold smile on his face. He pulled out a shiny little knife from his pocket, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light.

"Now, now, that's not a very nice way to talk to the people holding your fate in their hands." he warned, holding the weapon close to your face. Then the blade of the weapon traced a light, teasing line from your chin down to your chest.

The cold metal against your skin sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through you. You didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your terror, though.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" you retorted, attempting to sound defiant. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, but you forced yourself to remain calm. You refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

The group was momentarily taken aback by your apparent bravado. "Playing tough uh? But we'll see how long that lasts once we start carving up that pretty face of yours.''

When he moves the knife in your direction, you instinctively move your face and pull back in your uncomfortable sit, showing how scary this thing can really be for you. Fuck. How long does it take for your powers to return?

What you need now is just a bit of time, extra time.

''Wait- Wait! Just for a moment! If Firecracker paid you to do this, I can pay you a lot more, absolutely, no doubt!''

The mercenaries exchanged glances, clearly caught off guard by your attempt to stop them. The man holding the knife pulled back, a skeptical look on his face.

"You're really trying to buy us off right now?''

You mask your fear behind a ridicoulous smile, the same you use to charm your fans.

''Oh come on, everyone has a price. Just kindly asking what's yours.''

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you? I never would have guessed beneath all that sparkle and charm is just a desperate, bargaining diva.''

''Desperate? Me? Hardly. I just know how to play my cards and get what I want.''

The mercenary chuckled again, but his expression took on a more serious note. ''But I gotta admit, you're right about everyone having a price. Let's say hypothetically we were open to negotiation. Just hypothetically, of course. What's your offer?''

You took a deep breath, mentally calculating the worth that you could possibly offer to these men if it means they'll spare you.

"How does 25 million sound?" you said, keeping your tone casual.

The men all looked at each other again, clearly surprised by the amount you had just thrown out there. One of them whistled lowly.

"Sweet lord, that's a hefty sum. You're really willing to pay us that much just to spare that pretty face of yours, huh?"

As you talk with them, you feel the time ticking away, and you are still tied to a chair and unable to fight. Frustration would soon turn to anger and you would lose your temper. Then, all your diplomacy suddenly fails.

"What, you didn't think I had that kind of money to spare?! I'm a damn Seven! Of course I can afford it! Believe me, I'm worth much more alive and well than disfigured or dead."

Bad move, really bad move.

Your sudden outburst and loss of diplomacy did not go unnoticed by the men. They were clearly enjoying seeing the cracks in your composure. The idea that you were worth more alive, that they could get even more money from Firecracker to ruin you, was already setting in.

This was turning into a game of cutthroat negotiations.

"Well, well, well." the tallest man chuckled. "Looks like the little diva's mask is coming off. All this time, pretending to be so calm and collected, and now you're getting desperate. It's quite entertaining, isn't it, boys?"

As the men closed in on you, the situation was starting to feel hopeless. You had miscalculated, and now your attempts at bribery seemed to be backfiring. The reality of your predicament was setting in as the men circled around you like a pack of hungry wolves.

"No more deals. You're worth more alive for sure, and we'll talk to Firecracker to get more money to end this work, but in the meantime we can make sure you're not quite as perfect anymore..."

You quickly weigh the options. These men are more interested in doing their job than listening to you. You're tied to a chair. No powers. No escape route. All you can do is bargain, and hope to delay them long enough to get out of this mess.

''Fine...do your worst.''

You lower your head and close your eyes, your only option is to try to resist, until the Compound V inhibitor has finished its effect.

They began to pummel you, their fists raining down on your body. You tried to resist, to fight back, but your strength was fading. The Compound V inhibitor was still there. Each blow felt like it was tearing through your very being, pain radiating throughout your body like fire through a dry forest. You held onto consciousness by sheer determination and will, refusing to show weakness even in the face of pain. You gritted your teeth, refusing to let them see your weakness. Hiding your face, your most precious possession. Your uniform was stained with blood, your skin bruised and battered, but you managed to resist the urge to cry out.

You couldn't give them satisfaction.

Time passes, and your desperate plan finally takes effect. They wasted their time hitting you, without thinking about their main task anymore. How stupid humans are. And you bought the time you needed. The time it takes to regain your powers.

As the men's fists continued to rain down on you, you felt less pain, finally. With a burst of strength, you managed to break free from your bonds and pushing them back. Gaining a few meters of breathing space around you. Your vision was blurred, and your body ached, but you were free. You lunged at the nearest man, knocking him to the ground. The others were taken aback, their surprise momentarily stopping on their places.

The leader, the one holding the knife, was the first to recover. He quickly recomposed himself, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He quickly realize the situation has changed. You're no longer tied up and sedated, and you've already shown that you're a threat. He quickly pulls out a syringe with another dose of inhibitor inside.

"Grab her, don't let her get away!"

You stay dead silent. Full of fury. With fire inside your body.

As they rush at you, you spot the weapons they have on them. You feel the familiar pull and tug of your powers coming back to you. Taking a deep breath, you focus all your energy on the metal objects around them, using your powers to grab and pull on them. You can feel the weapons being yanked out of their hands, as if invisible strings were attached to them.

With a flick of your wrists and your powers now back in full effect, the weapons float around you, like obedient puppets waiting for your command. Metal barrels, knives, and a few firearms all levitate in the air, circling around you. A dangerous gleam in your eyes. You look like a terrifying sight.

A dangerous goddess dressed in red of her own blood.

Their eyes darting from you to the weapons floating around you. They look at you with fear, finally seeing you for the dangerous woman you truly are.

In the meantime, Firecracker stood before the massive glass windows of the Tower, looking out over the New York skyline. Her heart was racing, a feeling of triumph coursing through her veins. She had succeeded in her plan, you were gone.

Homelander was nearby, staring out at the city with a mixture of anger and confusion. The news of your disappearance had already reached his ears, and he was anxiously pacing back and forth, waiting for anyone to give him an update.

Firecracker approached Homelander cautiously, trying to mimic a concerned and empathetic expression. But it was evident that her words were nothing more than a facade.

"Hey..." she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know this must be hard for you. I can't imagine how much you care for her. But you know how she is, she's unpredictable, fickle, frivolous.''

Homelander turned his red burning eyes at her. "I don't need your sympathy, Firecracker." he snapped. "I need her back."

Taken aback by his harsh tone, she started caressing his shoulder. "I understand, I really do. But we have to be realistic here. Her role was heavy, she did this job for many years, maybe she was tired. But of course, it's horrible that she didn't tell you anything.'' she adds, to make him doubt your loyalty.

Homelander's face darkened at her words. "She has always done everything I asked of her. Never once did she waver. No, this isn't... right.''

She continued her act, feigning concern while trying to sow seeds of doubt in Homelander's mind.

"Maybe her loyalty wasn't as strong as you thought. Maybe she was just waiting for the right moment to escape.''

"You're trying to say she betrayed me? That she's a traitor?"

He hated the idea that you would betray him, but Firecracker's words were starting to sow seeds of doubt. She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, the seeds of doubt starting to take root.

But without warning her phone rings, and an unknown number appears on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat, and quickly she excused herself from Homelander, taking a step away and answered the call. She expected to hear the news of your complete disfigurement. So she spoke in a low voice to avoid others from hearing.

"Hello?"

''Kindly, could you accept my video call?'' a familiar voice answered on the other end of the line.

She froze. That was the last thing she expected to hear. It was you, asking for a video call? How? This was not supposed to happen. She quickly looked over her shoulder, making sure Homelander was still occupied and out of earshot.

''Did the cat got your tongue? Turn on that goddamn phone camera.''

She turned away again, her mind racing. She had no idea how to handle this situation. She had been so sure that the plan would be a success, that you would be disfigured and taken out of your position as a favorite.

This wasn't part of the plan. Now you're playing by your rules.

She reluctantly pressed the video call button, turning on the camera to reveal her worried face. Your face appeared on the screen, a small smirk gracing your bloody red lips. You looked exhausted, your face a bit bruised, with a small cut on your cheek. Your uniform, stained from head to toe with blood. And behind you, on the ground, the lifeless bodies of the men who had dared to harm you.

''How...?! How the hell are you-''

"Oh, you thought I'd be sitting quietly, waiting for my face to be carved off? How naive you are.''

Firecracker snap on the other line, realizing she had been outplayed. With anger slowly boiling inside her, she raised her voice. "Don't act so cocky. I still have that compromising video of you." she warned. "One click and your career is over."

''You know, while you left me with your nice masked friends, I had a lot of time to think. At the beginning I was very worried about that video, it would have really created a big scandal for my image...''

''And you should still be worried about it! Indeed, terrified!''

Your laugh echoed through the speakers.

''But then,I came up with a realisation. Maybe he will get angry at first. But Homelander won't take kindly to anyone who threatens me. He'll eliminate anyone who has seen that footage. And If you release it, you'll become public enemy number one."

Firecracker's heart sank as she realized the truth in your words. Homelander's protective nature towards you was a well-known fact. Anyone who had seen that footage, especially someone within the Seven, would quickly be targeted.

"You... you wouldn't dare. I'll deny everything." she stuttered, her confident facade starting to crumble.

A wicked gleam appeared in your eyes as you smirked again.

"Oh, I would. And Homelander will believe me over you any day. He'll tear you apart If you try anything. So I suggest you delete that footage, love. Because If it ever sees the light of day, you won't be able to save your pretty little face."

Firecracker's hands trembled as she gripped her phone tighter. Your words rang through her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

You started walking outside the building, still holding the camera, your voice calm. "And by the way, I found the phone of one of your mercenaries. And guess what I found there? Evidence of your little plan to ruin me. Messages between you and them, planning every detail. If you're still in doubt of what to do next, know that have all the proof I need to expose you."

Her blood ran cold as she watching you in horror. You had evidence, solid evidence, of her plan to ruin you. She could feel the walls closing in around her. She became ridicoulous.

"Wait! L-listen, we...we can talk about this! You're alright! You're fine, you're the mighty Ophera! Mine was j-just...a prank. Sure, a prank! You were never really in danger"

It was a desperate, last attempt to save her own skin.

And you are a merciful goddess, right?

''Mmh. An interesting way to spin things. A prank involving hired mercs, secret planning, blackmail attempts, and the risk of disfigurement. Just a little prank, right?"

"I…I…y-yes. A sick, twisted, and stupid prank. I never meant for it to go that far, really. Just a way to get back at you for…being so perfect all the time. I envy...I envy you, you know!''

Your eyes rolled at her attempts to rationalize her actions. She was really going all in, trying to save herself with excuses and half truths. You could practically see the desperation on her face even through the video call.

With a single wave of your bloody hand, you tell her to stay silent. And she stop with her rambling, confused.

You leaned closer to the phone, a lovely grin on your face. "Just a friendly reminder, Homelander can hear pretty well thanks to his powers. He might be listening to this conversation right now."

She had been so focused on her own survival that she had completely forgotten about Homelander's incredible sense of hearing. The thought that he might be listening in on this conversation sent a chill down her spine.

From her reaction you can guess that they're in that same room, maybe with Ashley and all the other super waiting for any news about you.

''Now, be a good girl and go to Homelander.''

"You…you can't…please, I-" she pleaded in a small desperate voice.

''And give him the phone, now.''

She slowly started walking towards Homelander and the others, the phone in her hands, hardly mantaining a smile on her face. ''Uhm- H-Homelander...I've some good news!''

''Spit it out, what's going on?" raised an eyebrow, dead serious.

"Uhm- I-it's for you." she held the phone out to him

The moment Homelander laid eyes on the phone, his emotions were a mixture of relief and anger. He quickly snatched the phone from Firecracker's trembling hand.

"Ophera?! Where the hell are you?!" he repeated, his voice echoing the frustration he was feeling.

"Hey, love. Sorry to worry you. I'm safe and well, just had a little unexpected adventure."

He clenched the phone tightly, his fingers leaving cracks on the device. "Damn it, woman. You had me worried sick. What the hell happened? Where are you? And are you covered in blood? Is that yours?!"

You felt a tingle of satisfaction as you heard the edge of worry in his voice. You can barely imagine Firecracker's defeated face at that moment.

''Don't worry, isn't mine. You know, the usual, anti-super criminals. I got my ass kidnapped, but don't worry, I took care of it. The morons have no idea what kind of trouble they stepped into."

"Why didn't you call me sooner? I could have come and rescued your ass.''

''I am an independent and strong woman. I never ask anyone for help.'' you smiled confident and charming on the screen.

Homelander couldn't help but smirk at your response. Despite his concern, he knew that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself. "Damn straight you are. Now. I'm coming to get you. I need to know everything about this absurd situation of yours.''

''Sure love, I've a lot of things to tell you. Like a good and all blooody bedtime story.''

Firecracker stood nearby, watching the exchange between Homelander and you on the phone. Her heart was in her throat as she listened to your conversation.

Her eyes widened as you continued to talk with him, your confident and charismatic persona shining through even in your bruised and battered state. She couldn't believe how calmly you were handling the situation, while she was the one who had orchestrated the whole disastrous plan.

''I'm at the old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. You know, the one with the graffiti and the broken windows?"

"I'll be there in three minutes, don't move."

Admiration for you filled her, and jealousy as well as she observed Homelander's reaction to your words. The concern in his voice, the protectiveness he still had over you, it was all too evident.

As you hung up the phone, Firecracker couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. You were unfortunately safe, and he was on his way to get you back to the Tower. But she also knew that her actions had consequences. She had crossed a line, and there was no going back.

You ended the call, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. You had turned the tables on your rival, and now she was the one who was in trouble.

"Well, well, well. Looks like someone's in quite a pickle." you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suggest you start thinking about your next move, Firecracker. Because whatever it is, I'm one step ahead of you."

The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the dynamic within The Seven had been irrevocably changed.

-------

ALRIGHT, WHAT A RIDE WAS THIS ONE?? I absolutely wanna write more with other canon characters! Thanks again for the request, it was really good to write, hope you like it! Kisses ❤️‍🔥

#the boys #homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander x y/n #homelander x you #homelander #firecracker #the boys fanfic #amazon the boys #fanfic request #my post #the boys oc #original character #firecracker x reader #dark fic

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winterrrnight · 1 year ago

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prompt 21 and 23 with rafe pls🙏🏻

thank you for the request anon!! Can't believe it took me this long to write this, but here we finally have it! I hope you like this and it is up to your expectations <3

cupcakes

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe has a little fun with you as you are baking cupcakes

WARNINGS: fluffy fluff fluff!! + I do beta read my fics but sometimes I miss little errors so if you see any grammatical/spelling error(s) please ignore them :)

EDITH SPEAKS: so I've been getting so late with the celly requests!! The celly ended days ago and I have quite a few requests in my inbox at the moment. I hit a little rough patch and didn't have much time to work on my fics, but I'm doing okay and I'm here to continue writing!! I hope you all like this <3

PROMPTS REQUESTED: "put me down!" "I'm not putting you down." "Put. Me. Down." "You're enjoying it, I know you are." & "Am I your lockscreen?" "You weren't supposed to see that."

100 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

Wheezie's birthday is coming up and you wanted to make cupcakes for her, just as a little gift. You had initially decided to make those on your own, but when you shared the idea with Rafe, he insisted he helps you.

Knowing the last thing he would do is help, it took a lot of convincing from his side to get you to say yes. You finally gave in and said yes, but you definitely weren't happy about it.

And now here you are, glaring at him as he stifles his laughter, because he successfully applied the cupcake batter to your nose and cheeks, putting a cherry on the top of your nose, making you look like a clown.

You aren't very sure how it happened; one second you're searching through your spice drawer to find the cinnamon powder and just as you turn around the next second, you're basically being attacked with food.

"RAFE!" You yell, the coldness of the batter on your cheeks causing a very small shiver to go down your spine.

He can't keep his laughter in, so he bursts out laughing, but you don't know why he's finding it all so amusing, especially your angry expression should be making him scared.

It takes a few moments for Rafe's laughter to calm down, but when it does, he gently removes all the batter from your face and also gives you the cherry to eat.

Another few minutes later you have your cupcake batter filled in your moulds and are ready to go in the oven.

"Could you set a timer for 20 minutes?" You say to Rafe, handing him your phone as you're busy keeping the cupcakes in the oven. He takes the phone from you and just as he turns it on, the lockscreen grabs his attention instantaneously.

It's a picture of him smiling as he's looking up at the sky. He has no idea you took this picture of him, but he does have to say, he looks so good in it.

"Am I your lockscreen?" He says, and you look up at him, suddenly remembering about it. You feel your cheeks heat up as you walk a little closer to him.

You both haven't been dating for long, it's barely been a complete two months, so even when you do the little things for each other, it tends to send little firecrackers in your stomach each time.

"You weren't supposed to see that," you say, your face still red as you try to grab your phone from Rafe's hands. But you fail miserably, as he starts to run away from you with your phone still in his hand, his giggling not stopping.

"Rafe!" You call out as you run behind him, trying to catch ahold of him but he's had a headstart and he's a good distance ahead of you. You've completely lost track of him and you're calling out his name, trying to figure out where he is, but you don't get any response back.

After a bit more of searching, you spot him on the balcony, his back towards you. You walk up to him and whisper, "boo!" in his ear. He turns around with the biggest grin on his face, and he gives you your phone back.

"I think that's pretty cute," he says, as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile into his chest, thinking about all the times you've stared at his picture on your lockscreen without realising how much time has passed.

Suddenly, he picks you up off your feet and you let out a scream at his actions, you being hoisted up on his shoulder now.

"Put me down!" You say, as he takes you both out of the balcony and back into the house.

"I'm not putting you down," he states.

"Put. Me. Down." You say, more sternly this time, but he doesn't listen to you.

"You're enjoying it, I know you are." He chuckles. Well, technically, he isn't wrong, but you would never admit that to his face because that would just only boost his ego a lot more.

When he reaches the living room, he finally puts you down on the couch, and gently gets on top of you, careful enough to not exert his complete body weight on you.

"Hey," he whispers, moving his face closer to yours, and nudging your nose with his.

"Hi," you giggle, feeling his hair brush your cheeks which creates a tickling sensation. He smiles, and presses his lips softly against yours. His lips move slowly, trying their best to show you how much you means to him. You sigh with satisfaction as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

You gently pull his entire body weight on you, allowing him to rest properly. His head rests on your chest and your fingers massage his scalp gently, causing his mind to gradually feel more sleepy.

You gently smile at the sight in front of you, and you move your fingers to brush out the hair falling in his eyes. He gently shifts at the movement, moving his face a little closer to yours.

"I'm not too heavy right?" He mumbles sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"Oh no baby, you could never be heavy," you whisper, resuming running your fingers through his hair. Very soon, your boy has drifted off in your arms.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff

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head-explode · 1 year ago

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Ah, nothing of the sort has conspired lately, just been takin’ a gander round this lovely region called Galar. And what of you?

so like. uh. anything fun happen with you guys today. (i need to interact more…)

#cracker.wav #pokemon #pokemon irl #pkmn #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotomblr #rotumblr #firecracker the clown #blacephalon

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wordy-little-witch · 9 months ago

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I have the wildest soft spot for omegaverse stuff done well, specifically with worldbuilding and nuance and dynamic takes so here's mine:

((For context, platonic Shanks and Buggy))

Roger's crew was mostly Alphas and some Betas, so when they took two Pups on (one from infancy, one later on), they weren't really expecting much. Then Shanks presented as an Alpha. Oh, they think, okay that checks out. Might need to start looking into giving the boys their own rooms, but things are chill for now. Not much changes beyond Shanks trying to cuddle Buggy a little bit more than usual. Red's pretty even tempered, as far as Alphas go! This is gonna be fine-

And then Buggy complains of a stomach ache.

They don't realize at first what it is. Crocus does note that he has a slight fever, Roger is a bit more frantic in his general smothering habits, and Buggy's even allowing it, but they just think the poor dear is getting sick again.

That night, Buggy shakes Shanks awake. He's flushed and lightheaded and everything hurts, he's not okay, he needs something and he doesn't know what, his bones are itching - and Shanks pulls him into his bed, into a hug, and Buggy burrows closer, whining, a soft sound Shanks has never heard quite like this, but Buggy is upset, and he smells distressed, he's scared so-

He yells for dad, and Crocus, Roger and Ray come running. They all panic because Buggy is absolutely presenting, but that is a HEAT, and they're NOT EQUIPPED FOR THIS, Crocus sends Ray to update the course to find the closest possible docking spot, he tries to pick Buggy up, pull him away from Shanks, and Buggy growls. Everyone freezes, and Roger reaches out to pet the blue haired boy's head, earning a tiny chirp even as their junebug clung to his packmate harder. Shanks cuddles him back just as tightly, and Buggy squirms until he can grab Roger's sleeve, tugs as he blinks up at the man with pleading blue eyes.

Crocus admits that his familiarity with omegan health is lacking, it being a rather small field of study officially. He's not entirely sure what he can do, especially given Buggy's natural health issues they've already determined and his Devil Fruit. It's a learning curve. But the first Heats are typically the worst - more painful, overwhelming, etc, as they are essentially a biological startup sequence. Things shift, move, activate, and the first can often lead to heatsickness - given Buggy's general demeanor already, that's a higher concern.

As it is, it becomes smth of a chaotic frenzy of trying to keep a hormonal firecracker both calm and resting. This is not made easier with Buggy's clinginess, nor his odd skill in simply disappearing because he got bored, came back to the Nest to find someone missing (they went to search for him), and now's he's sniffling and everyone is trying to avoid a sobbing clown.

Now for context, Alphas, Betas, Omegas - these are all secondary to your primary genders. The primary is the general default of genetics and are multifaceted. Your secondary is a mix of genetic and instinctive reaction to thing, or rather how your brain is hardwired to respond to external stimuli. You can transition either or both, and some can change secondaries without intervention. Typically changed secondaries happen in adulthood and are either a bit of clownfish type biology bullshit or a result of a sudden, stark paradigm shift.

Buggy never really had much reason either way to change much - he's always been fairly serious about very specific things, and while being an Omega - the ONLY Omega at that - on the crew was a point of insecurity, he never really thought the instincts that came with it were bad. ((He also didn't think to hate THAT bit, he hated other things about himself)).

But yeah, Buggy being an Omega. I dunno. I just very specifically love that take.

Also Buggy's crew being aware of his designation makes me so happy. Like. He'd definitely be the type to not give a flying fuck about gender, assigned or otherwise, sexuality, race, whatever the fuck. He values what you HAVE, not what you ARE, and I think he'd be adamant on that with his crew. Sexism, misogyny, racism, trans or homophobia is stomped out faster than you could blink. And if he catches wind of a question of consent, he is handling that matter PERSONALLY.

((Bonus points, by and large, most don't know Buggy's secondary bc he uses scent patches and doesn't fit the stereotypes. There's theories, but the main one is him being a Beta or a weird Alpha, Omegas and Piracy are not a concept which go hand in hand very often to the public eye.

Cross Guild was formed with that little tidbit unknown, and it led to some very silly hijinks and shenanigans))

#buggy the clown #buggy headcanons #one piece #omegaverse au #omega buggy

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gingernut1314 · 9 months ago

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The Luck Child - Chapter 3: Discussions of Pain and Chaos

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy throws a temper tantrum and you are less than happy to sit around and wait for him than his senior officers. Especially when your position on his crew has yet to be decided.

Warnings: spoilers for the anime (Marineford Arc and onward), canon divergence, canon typical violence

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: This is done in collaboration with the wonderful @fanaticsnail and her Sapsorrow series--go read it if you haven't already!!! And thank you @i-am-vita for creating the beautiful banner and storyteller collab masterlist!!

Buggy had been a snapping firecracker of chop-chopped limbs, screeching and screaming, angered tears, and cruses upon Red-Haired Shanks’ name. A firecracker that burned bright and fast, flying off to bar himself within his large, red and white striped tent, now very crinkled map in hand.

There had been throwing and the sound of crashing and then--silence. Utter silence that had lasted for longer than you could have ever believed the clown could stay as such.

So long, you were beginning to convince yourself he had died. There was no other logical option, really. Because the Buggy you knew could not physically keep his mouth shut even if it was to save his life.

But firecrackers were, if anything else, short-lived things.

His senior officers seemed utterly unphased by Buggy’s temper tantrum.

Cabaji had walked off to shout commands and insults at his subordinates fixing their Captian’s ship, the Big Top, while the rest sat just before Buggy’s tent in chairs made of wax.

You paced. Had been pacing since Buggy had locked himself in his tent and continued to pace as Galdino came back over to the assembled group with a silver tray in hand. Intricately designed porcelain tea cups full of steaming dark-amber liquid sat on top of it, a matching teapot in the middle.

You watched, turning back around to pace before the tent flaps, as Galdino handed Alvida one of the cups. Watched her, from her spot on a wax-made couch she lounged out upon, take the tea from him, an all-too-pleasant thank you leaving her red painted lips. Lips that pulled up in the smallest of smiles for the man. Galdino nodded his head, a near-matching smile on his face.

You turned on your heels once more, after making it to the other end of the tent, and headed back for the other side as Galdino handed Mohji a cup as well. The fur-covered first mate nodded his thanks and took a sip of tea, a pleased hum on his lips. His larger-than-normal lion, whose name you remembered was Richie, napped at his feet like some overgrown cat.

Galdino turned towards you and your pacing body, his lips thinning.

“Would you like a cup? It’s earl grey--made the bled myself just yesterday.” He spoke, pride welling in his voice at such a fact.

You paused in your pacing. Paused and stood perfectly still as he came up to you, taking your settledness as welcome.

You lifted a hand to take the delicate cup from his, Galdino grinning at you.

“See? Isn’t the simple pleasure of a nice cup of tea much better than such--” You grinned a wolfishly wicked thing in his face as you sharply threw the cup away, it shattering into little pieces against the hard surface of a nearby rock, which grew damp from the spilled, homemade tea. “...brutish nonsense.” The former Mr. 3 finished, a deep frown cutting down his face. “That was a part of a set.” He snapped.

“Boo. Hoo.” You answered, starting up your pace once more.

“It’s not worth trying to tame such a savage beast.” Alvida’s silky smooth voice spoke as she raised the porcelain to her lips, sharp eyes tracking Galdino as he started for his own wax-made chair next to her couch. “It’s best to either give them a wide berth or hunt them down for sport.”

“You might be right. And she does have such a nice bounty on her head.” Galdino mused, sitting down all prim and properly in his chair. Alvida took a sip of her tea, turning her head so she could continue to glance his way.

“Then why vogue for her in such a way? We would do best to get rid of her. Stray animals should stay as such.” She said with a smirk and another sip of tea.

“Because, dear, what a nice asset she would be to us if she were domesticated.” Galdino took a sip from his own cup, turning his gaze onto Alvida with a growing smirk of his own. “Maybe we would do best to invest in a shock collar. That would keep her from causing too much mayhem.” Alvida gave a luscious chuckle.

“If we are to keep her, dear, then we best invest now.” You ignored their taunting, finding it not worth your time. Especially when your time was already being wasted waiting around for that pathetic excuse of a man still hiding away in his tent.

“How much longer does he expect us to wait around for him to sulk?” You snapped, turning sharply on your heels once more to march back over the white sand you had been leaving a consistent trail of boot marks in.

“We find it best to…leave the captain be when he gets like this,” Mohji spoke, taking a sip of tea. “He’ll come around…soon enough.”

“Soon enough is not good enough. He should be out here discussing a play of action.” Mohji winched at your words.

“I would not push him.” You snarled at the fur-covered man who all but sunk into his chair as if to get away from your wrath. His lion stirred, seemingly sensing his master's unease.

“Galdino, dear, make a note to also purchase a muzzle.” Alvida’s voice hummed.

“Yes. Our budget definitely would allow for that as well.” You turned your snarl onto them.

You would only take so many slights against your name.

“You best remember Galdino that I will take no such disrespect from you or anyone.” You hissed, making the man pale. Alvida only laughed, its ambrosian ring floating over the soft breeze, not understanding the true meaning behind your words.

Galdino was best to remember that you still held power over him. Best to remember you held his daughter’s life in your hands and that one simple call would send her into the pits of hell.

“And what will you do, wild woman? You are trying to join our crew and you have been doing very little to earn your place.” What you would do to that woman had her words not rang true. What utter carnage you would have wrought against her and this crew she belonged to if you didn’t have this mission to complete.

You snarled at her for a moment longer, a moment long enough for her to take yet another sip of her tea and swallow before you barged into the tent you had been pacing before.

You would drag that fool from his den before you sat there any longer and allowed that woman to insult you.

Darkness enveloped you. A darkness only broken up by the round hole in the apex of the tent, which allowed the smoke from the fire at the center to escape through. The fire flickered and swayed at the sudden rush of wind you had created in your rush.

Its swaying light illuminated more of the space. Illuminated a broken desk, shattered mugs, and torn papers. Brightly colored clothes lay sprawled over the floor, causing the fire’s light to reflect off the sparkles and gems on them to shine like a sea of diamonds. Glass beer bottles rattled together as you slowly made your way through the large space towards a pile of pillows that looked like some strange birds nest.

And in that nest, laying on his front, body parts chop-chopped apart, and flowing blue hair splayed around his head, was Buggy the Clown.

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

You’re earlier thought crossed your mind in a flash.

He looked dead.

Maybe he was--died of his red-hot dramatics.

What an easy mission that would make, but you knew your luck wasn’t that great. Knew Buggy’s “prophesied” luck was stronger than your own and he was still alive under that sea of blue hair and fluffy blankets.

“...Buggy?” You questioned, coming to a stop just before his bed space began.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

It pissed you off.

Submission. You had to be--supportive of your new captain's antics.

Gods--it almost made you want to gag.

You made your way into his bed space, stepping over pillows and blankets to come to a stop next to him.

“Buggy?” You tried again, but once more he remained silent as the grave. It was almost eerily how silent he was being.

With a huff and a manhandling of your will and pride, you sat down next to him and---

Pffffffrrrrrfffttttt.

The tent grew still once more.

A--a fart…that had been a release of gas-made air.

Had he--no--that ghastly sound had come from under you, but you knew good and well that you had done no such thing.

Buggy moved then.

A small shake of his shoulder that grew so powerful that it began to rock his whole body up and down.

Buggy was laughing at you. A laugh so intense it was utterly quiet.

You reached under you and grabbed up the deflated pink, rubber cushion beneath you.

A whoopee cushion.

Of course Buggy had planted a whoopee cushion for you to fall for.

Buggy gave a deep inhale of breath before belting out the loudest, funkiest laugh you’ve ever heard him produce. One that had your anger stifling, if just for a moment, to listen to the utter joy your personal embarrassment had brought him.

“Good one.” You grit, throwing the whoopee cushion at him. Buggy hardly seemed to feel it or care as he turned his head to look up at you, his blue hair cascading over his face and blocking some of his smudged and running make-up. He looked--almost too beautiful in that moment.

It made you want to chop-chop his head off and punt it into the sea.

“Holy shit! I’m--I’m--BWAHAHAH!!” Another fit of laughter overtook his words, tears brimming at the corners of his cyan eyes. “I’m--I’m sorry but holy shit! You’ve gotta admit I gotcha good!” You clenched your fists tightly in your lap to keep from beating the absolute shit out of the clown laying next to you.

“...you got me.” You said, teeth hardly even letting you get the words out. It only threw Buggy into yet another laughing fit, one accompanied by the slamming of his fist on the ground and feet kicking.

“I did! I really did!” You let him continue his hysterics, knowing you would prefer to deal with a teasing, happy Buggy, than a Buggy who wouldn’t speak.

But that silence that had lived in the tent before his prank filtered back in, stealing his laughter and smile and filling those bright eyes with those haunting shadows he had almost convinced you had ceased to exist. You watched him as he let his head fall into his awaiting hands, the heels of his plam digging into his eyes in a rough manner that would further smudge his clown-like make-up.

It made your skin crawl. Mabe your anger roll in your chest, your fist begging to hit something.

You forced your fingers to uncoil from their pale knuckled hold on themselves. Forced yourself to think your re-sparked anger was because he had laughed in your face…not because his quiet was making you feel--strange. Not because whoever had put that hauntingly hurt look in his eyes was pissing you off just for daring to make his brightest fall away. A hurt you were carefully piecing together must have something to do with Red-Hair.

People didn’t just have that kind of reaction to a Jolly Rodger they hadn’t memorized--hadn’t let burn into the forefront of their mind and rage shimmer in their veins at its mere sight.

No. Nope. Your anger had nothing to do with any of that.

“I didn’t know the map had anything to do with that Emperor.” You spoke low and slow as if you were approaching some sort of wild beast. Buggy scoffed at you, rolling his head in his head to look back up at you.

“Of course, you didn’t know. You didn’t even think to smell the damn map.” Buggy said like it was utterly ridiculous that you hadn’t thought of that.

“Who smells a fucking map?”

“Any pirate who has a true heart for the hunt. Obviously.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled one of your legs out from its crossed position so that you could rest your forearm on your knee, leaning down closer to the clown.

“Obviously the map wasn’t for me. I care more for the wildness of the adventure than any treasure at its end.” That spark of brightness began to filter back into his eyes as a teasing smirk tugged at his lips.

“That makes us perfect together then, huh? I like the shininess of gold and silver and you like the shininess of blood and marrow.” You couldn’t help that wolfish grin of yours from pulling to your lips at his words.

“That I do. Which is why I make such a wondrous addition to your crew.” Those cyan eyes scanned over your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than you liked. Your fists were clenched into fists at the rising beat of your heart, ready to strike him in his far too loud mouth.

“I still can’t wrap my head ‘round that, Minnow. You don’t like me. You don’t like my crew. You were once a part of a crew whose membership I hear is very difficult to earn. I know your nature well enough to know you wouldn’t just give that up without a true reason.” You watched Buggy who watched you with those eyes of his. Eyes you would never admit had found their way into the shadows of your dreams. Eyes that had your fluttering heart turned blazing in red-hot anger.

“I’ve already told you. I saw you fight at Marineford and--”

“Cut the crap!” He shouted, rushing to sit up on his knees. To tower over you, grabbing hold of your shirt so that he could yank you closer to his bared teeth.

Close. How close he had grown. And that anger. Oh, that utterly wild anger had your toes curling in your boots.

Your muscles and temper wanted to grab him and break his hand for ever thinking of touching you, but your brain sharply reminded you once more to submit.

“You ain’t tryin’ to join me 'cause you saw some fuckin’ broadcast. You ain’t tryin’ to join me 'cause you think I’m powerful. There’s somethin’ you want. What is it?” Buggy hissed in your face.

Submit, submit, submit.

You grinned up at him, pulling yourself onto your own knees so you could press your breasts into his chest and run a hand over the warm skin of his exposed arm, which was flexed from the hold he had over you. Buggy watched you in pure shock as his face grew redder and redder with each passing moment.

“What I want,” You purred, letting your eyes greedily drink in the thin curve of his lips beneath the smudged paint. “Is to serve you. I want to be your weapon. I want you to wield me however you choose against whomever you choose. I want to see you achieve greatness.” Those eyes of his, so wide and full of disbelief, fluttered to your own lips.

“But--but you hate me.” His voice grew soft, near whispering along with the loosening of his fingers around your shirt.

“The past is in the past.” You saw that hurt flash in his eyes. That haunting darkness. “Shall I kill off that Red-Haired Emperor for you to prove my loyalty?” Buggy blinked, snapping himself out of whatever haunting pasts had started to invade his mind.

Good.

“W-what? No. You wouldn’t last a second against that guy.” You shrugged on an agreeing nod.

“Yes…but his crew isn’t as unbeatable. I could select one of his senior officers, hum…let’s say their Doctor, to wipe off the chess board. It would be an assassination of stealth--of shadows. It would leave them scrambling to figure out how it had happened. Who had done it. Leave them distracted--hurting.” Buggy’s breath hitched as you continued to speak, bringing your voice low and filling it with honey-thick and sultry tones.

“I would then go for his chef, then his sharpshooter, and on and on until I get to that pesky first mate of his. Now he would be tougher to kill. I would have to catch him off guard, and on guard he would be after such a massacre of his men. Get him at his weakest state--in his blind spot and strike. Your crew could handle the rest of his underlings and then poor Red-Haired Shanks would be left to wallow in his mourning. He would be weak and utterly alone.” You brought your lips ever closer to his, which parted on a stuttering inhale of air.

“And then, if you commanded it, I would go for Red-Hair himself. A little poison in the drink he would no doubt be drowning himself in would weaken him enough to make it ever so easy to,” You ghosted your fingers over his neck, feeling Buggy’s rapidly beating pulse and the bob of his Adams Apple on a sharp swallow, “take his head.”

Buggy watched you for a long moment, tongue wetting his lips and pupils growing with each passing moment he stayed within such close proximity of you. And for a few of those moments, you thought he might try to close that distance. And you might have let him that close again, especially after getting yourself all worked up on such discussions of pain and chaos.

“Fuck--” Buggy cursed on a huff of air, those eyes of his narrowing as he tried to refocus himself. “I forgot how fuckin’ crazy you are.” You hummed in agreement, fingers continuing to touch his skin. Skin that was all too warm and inviting.

“And all my instantly is yours now, captain.” Buggy gave that funky laugh of his, a smile pulling at the edge of his lips.

“You’re truly persistent, ain’t ya?” You nodded, thumb brushing over the stumble of his jaw. Buggy shook his head in amusement, finally letting go of your shirt as he flopped back amongst the various pillows that made up his bed space to rub at his face.

“Fine.” He said, voice muffled by his gloved hands. You huffed a smirk, crawling your way over so that you could peer down at him and his sea of blue hair sprawled out around him.

“Fine…what?” You lulled, peeling one of his hands away from his face so he could look at you. That blush you had pulled from him moments ago dusted over his skin upon finding you kneeling over top of him.

“Alvida is gonna kill me.” He groaned, brows furrowing.

“And is she your captain?” Buggy gave a huffing chuckle at your question.

“Technically she’s my co-captain. We have this alliance goin’.” You narrowed your eyes down at him, making that blush only deepen. “B-But ya know that’s--she kinda just does her own thing--follows me around. I’m the captain.” You nodded, leaning ever the more closer as your grin yanked at your lips once more.

“Good. I will not serve under her. I will only serve under you.” Buggy swallowed, those alluring eyes of his scanning over your face rapidly.

“Heh--yeah. Und-under me.” He cleared his drying throat, that blush continuing to bloom. “Yep. On my crew--serving me.” You boredly blinked at his ramblings.

“What shall your first command be, captain?” You asked, making the clown clear his throat once more.

“Right. Command. Well--if we’re gonna find this treasure, we’re gonna need to find Shanks.” Buggy said, bitting the name of the red-haired emperor out, that anger you so enjoyed seeing flashing through his eyes.

“And like I said before, I am exceptional at gathering hard-to-get information. I will find him for you.” You said, pulling yourself up and away from the man who you now officially called captain.

A gloved hand shot out to grab your wrist before you could stand, pulling your blistering hot attention back onto him.

Submit. Your brain screamed, but your body wanted to punch him right in that rounded nose of his for continuing to touch you.

“No grand assassination attempts--though very flashy indeed.” You nodded, your head, going once more to stand but his hand held firm. “How are you going to find him?”

“There is a large town on one of the islands bordering this one I will go to ask around. Maybe find a Marine--”

“Minnow, you ain’t gonna find any Marines here.” You blinked down at him, calming your raging anger. “This island is home to one of the biggest pirate havens around. Hidden away from the watchful eye of the World Government. It’s why I came here. Needed to get off the Marine’s radar for a little while.” You almost scoffed at him.

If only he knew he’d let one right into his confidence.

“Oh?” You said in your stifled angered state. It was all you could say without lashing out at him.

You hadn’t heard of any pirate haven on this island. The people of the town you had talked to said nothing of it, even after your bribes of knowing more about this island. All they had said it was full of was sand and forest and the Buggy Pirates who had washed ashore the night prior.

Luck child. Your brain purred back at you. A purr you shoved down to keep your anger from spiking any further.

“Oh?” Buggy said, a smirk growing on his painted lips as he pulled himself to sit up once more. “You don’t know? And here I thought you were exceptional at gathering hard-to-find information.”

Oh, how you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. To beat him into a pulp before he ever thought to question your skills again.

Submit, submit, submit. It made your weakly caged anger rile in its chains.

“I am. But I was not in need of finding any pirate heaven here. I was in need of finding you.” That blush was back in seconds, his mouth falling open and shut like a suffocating fish.

“Heh--right.” He chuckled awkwardly, letting you go and allowing you to stand.

“I’ll find this pirate heaven and I will find that emperor for you by the time your ship is ready to set sail tonight.” You said, bowing your head in show of respect before turning on your heels to leave.

“Uh--wait!” Buggy called the sounds of him scrambling to get up sounding behind you.

“Yes, captain?” You asked, clenching your fists as you faced the disheveled man.

“I’ll come with you.” Your anger rolled in its cage once more. “I don’t think I trust ya to get there without gettin’ lost.” He said on another chuckle meant to tell you he was only teasing. It did nothing but heat your anger further.

“Of course. Your knowledge of this heaven will be useful.” You said through slightly grit teeth as the clown came sauntering up to you.

“Exactly what I was thinkin’, Minnow.” He said, that wide grin of his pulling to his face as he leaned close into you again. You allowed it, your attention being stolen by those damn eyes on his once more. “And hey, maybe we’ll have a little bit of fun together.”

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