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haveatthee83 · 1 month

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The Princess and her Fool (Buggy D. Clown/Reader) 3/4

Inspo: TIMEZONE-MÅNESKIN

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: ~9.7k

Warnings/Notes: Cursing, canon typical violence (very minor), angst(?), flashbacks.

A/N: MÅNESKIN is Buggy coded, no I won't elaborate, all chapters are inspired by different MÅNESKIN songs. Hope you like this one! Thank you all for all the love on my fics! It's been literally amazing! I am like constantly checking my activity tab to see all the little likes, comments, and reblogs. I can't stop like squealing in excitement every time one of y'all interacts. It's literally one of the biggest highlights of my day. Thanks so much for reading!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You weren’t ready. Your mood dropped instantly as you saw the island on the horizon through your spyglass. Arlong Park. It was mere minutes away, really. Less than an hour. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you handed your spyglass over to Zoro next to you.

“Almost there.” You whispered, leaning against the railing of the ship.

“When are you going to tell him?” Zoro muttered, scanning the area with your tool. You quirked an eyebrow, “You gotta tell Luffy you’re leaving.” He mumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat, “Oh-oh…I’m not leaving.” You started, playing with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are.” Zoro scoffed, “You’re all goo goo eyed over that fuckin clown. You’re worse than the cook.” He jeered, nudging your shoulder.

You shook your head, heat rising to your cheeks, “I’m not going with him. I have stuff I need to do first.” You explained. “I’m here through Loguetown.”

Zoro nodded, handing your back your spyglass, “After that?”

“I’m going off with Buggy.” You admitted. “I told Luffy from the start that I wasn’t gonna stay with him permanently.” You mumbled with a sorrowful look in your eye.

Zoro sighed, rolling his neck, “You gonna be happy with him?” he asked, turning his head to look at you fully, “Cause if you’ll be happy, Luffy will be happy.”

You nodded softly, “He makes me a happier person.” You said, “I think I really love him.” You said it so softly that Zoro could have thought it was his imagination, but he knew better.

“Just…talk to Luffy soon. Don’t put it off or I’ll tell him.” Zoro said finitely, walking away from you, toward where Usopp and Buggy were arguing on how to best maneuver getting to the island.

“I will.” You promise to the wind.

Getting onto the island was easier than you all had thought, using Buggy as a guide through the thicket toward the park.

You and Buggy sat outside Nojiko’s small home in Coco Village, you were leant up against a tangerine tree and holding Buggy over your stomach, stroking his hair and quietly reading through the last chapter of your book, “-as the princess stood tall for her final stand, hand in hand with her beloved knight, she couldn’t help but smile wide, whispering to her beloved at her side, ‘I love you more than this world will allow, my dear. I cannot wait to hold you and love you without bound in the next.’.”

Buggy sank himself deeper into your hold, melting under your gentle ministrations. “You should braid my hair again, eh pretty girl?” he muttered as you finished the last chapter, the bittersweet ending a satisfying conclusion, but a heavy reminder of your circumstances.

You hummed with a small smile and set the book down on the ground beside you, “Okay, but I want to keep playing with your hair. Can I just do one little one?” you asked, raising Buggy’s head up to your face and planting a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

Buggy scrunched up his face and wiggled it a bit, “I don’t mind, but damn, Doll. We’ve talked about the nose!”

You rolled your eyes and planted another kiss to his brow, “I remember talking about how much I love your nose, eh pretty boy?” you teased, running your hand through his soft blue hair. “So just let me love on you while I can.” You chastised, bringing him in for a longer, deep kiss on the lips, your thumb stroking his cheekbone right under his eye, his lashes brushing against the very tip of your finger.

Buggy nipped at your bottom lip as you pulled him back, making you huff out a low laugh as you settled him back in your lap, already separating a small section of hair from right behind his left ear to braid.

“I’m gonna miss you, Starshine.” He mumbled, relaxing into your touch.

You smiled sadly, pinching the braid in one hand and using the other to stroke the side of his face soothingly, “I’ll miss you too, Bugs.”

That night, you and Buggy slept under the stars, cuddled up close, his head resting comfortably under your chin.

When you and the other Straw-hats properly invaded the park, you and Buggy could feel the deep pull of anxiety as you both separated to find the rest of him.

After darting around a bit, you crested a hill and then he saw it. His body. It was strung up alongside some prizes in a game booth. You skidded to a stop, scanning the area to make sure it was clear, all the while, hugging Buggy’s head to your middle.

When you deemed it safe enough, you rushed over to the counter, letting Buggy float out of your grip as you got close enough. His head reattached to his neck and with glee he detached his hands and feet just long enough to free himself from his bindings, landing hard on the ground.

Buggy smiled wide, hopping over the counter and scooping you into his arms, spinning you for a moment. When he laid your feet back on the ground, you beamed, grabbing his face and drawing him into a deep kiss, his hands traveling over as much of your body as they could.

“Oi! Clown!” You and Buggy drew away from each other. It was Zoro. He was looking for Buggy somewhere nearby.

Buggy rolled his eyes but turned to you, “You sure you can’t come with me, Doll Face?”

Your heart dropped to your feet as you shook your head, “I can’t, Buggy. I…If I go with you now, I’d never forgive myself. I made a promise.” You said resolutely, “I’ll see you soon.” You whispered, nudging him to go.

Buggy nodded, “See ya, Sweet Cheeks.” He muttered quickly, pecking your cheek before bolting.

Zoro came around the corner, rushing to your side, “Where did that fucker go?”

You smiled and shrugged, “He had to go.” You said, boldly wearing his red kiss mark on your face, wiping at your stained lips.

The fight with Arlong and his fishmen had been difficult, not to mention those damned Marines, but you found the hardest part to be seeing poor Nami’s suffering. You wanted to find it in you to hate the younger woman for betraying you all, but you couldn’t. You understood duty and desperation, more than most.

So, there you all sat on the Going Merry, a fragile air of comradery on the deck. Your next stop was Loguetown. You looked out over the calm waves, glistening under the setting sun, and you couldn’t stop the little melancholy smile from spreading along your lips.

Buggy missed you. He constantly found himself turning to the side to tell you some joke or snide comment only to be met with Cabaji’s face, not yours.

Buggy saw you everywhere. He found a stone on one of the islands he’d stopped on. It wasn’t anything super special, but it just happened to be a perfect color match for your eyes. Buggy had scowled at the stone, almost wishing he could explode it with his mind before chucking it back down at his feet into the incoming waves and stormed off. Only to immediately turn around, cursing the sky and sea and go to find it again. He had to make multiple attempts to grab it because the waves kept getting a bit too close or too high for Buggy’s comfort. It took him a half an hour to grab the stone again, but he did.

Cabaji had seen his captain’s antics from the ship but didn’t say anything. He did, however, note that he’d often see his captain with his right hand in his pocket, clearly holding onto something. Sometimes when Cabaji would come into Buggy’s room to communicate goings-ons of the ship, he’d walk in on Buggy tossing the stone in his hand, over and over. Sometimes he’d simply be holding it, staring at it, stroking its smooth surface with his ungloved thumb. Cabaji didn’t understand why he held on so tightly to the little rock. It would have made a good skipping stone, sure, but other than that, it was…just a rock. But nonetheless, his captain kept it with him. Cabaji often found himself breaking Buggy out of little bouts of daydreams, bringing the clown back to earth during meetings and rehearsals. Cabaji was concerned. What had happened while Buggy was with those Straw-Hats? Why was he so…different?

There was a crewmate on the ship that had the same hair color as you, and Buggy’d find himself whipping around on a dime, thinking he’d seen you, just trying to lay eyes on you, but of course, you weren’t there. You were at least three time zones away, sailing with those Straw-Hats. Buggy would scowl at the thought, crewmates flinching away from him. Buggy was one more sleepless night, missing the sound of your humming and feeling your fingers in his hair, from snapping and demanding his crew hunt the Straw-Hats down. All so he could finally have you to himself. The only reason he held himself back anymore was the conversation you’d had right before he’d had to run away.

“I can’t, Buggy. I…If I go with you now, I’d never forgive myself. I made a promise.”

Buggy’s jaw set at the memory, his thumb running over the stone in his hand, the candle next to him licking over his fingers and its dull scent wafting over him. He wasn’t mad at you per say. More so mad at the situation. He wanted you right there with him, lying next to him when he wakes up in the morning, cheering him on during rehearsals and shows, he wanted to teach you a few circus tricks. You seemed to already be good at knife throwing, just like him. Buggy often felt his chest swell with pride at the fact that you remembered how to do that, he had taught you after all.

Buggy kept having to remind himself that you didn’t abandon him, the opposite in fact. You wanted him, you wanted to be around him. You just had something to do first. Buggy could wait. Absolutely. He…could wait. Maybe.

Buggy frowned as he walked his way through the main town center. He had his eye out for one thing and one thing only, the bounty board. ‘God where is it?!’ his gaze roved over the square, finally landing on the patchwork bulletin board. Buggy shoved his way through the crowd, making a beeline toward it, only stepping on a few people’s toes. When he made it up to the board, his eyes darted over the board faster than he thought possible, finally landing on what he was looking for. You had a poster. You had a bounty of 8,000,000 out for you, alive. Buggy studied your face, looking for an inkling of a grin, but he found no such thing, only finding a look of disgust aimed at the camera, a snarl curling your face, your arm pulled back to lay a punch onto whatever unfortunate Marine had tried to get your picture. You hadn’t found it yet.

“Son of a bitch!” Buggy exclaimed, ripping your poster down and stomping back toward the docks, heading back to the Big Top. “Can’t catch a break, dammit.” Buggy mumbled and grumbled as he made his way through the crowded streets, shoulder clocking someone, “Watch where you’re going.” He hissed.

“Rude, Captain.” It was Cabaji. He held Buggy’s eye with a disappointed glower, “Permission to speak freely?”

Buggy was taken aback, “Uh, sure I guess.”

Cabaji nodded, gesturing for Buggy to follow him into a quiet alley nearby. When they were far enough away from the crowds to not have to call over the noise, Cabaji settled, leaning against the damp stone wall and frowned. Buggy stood across from him, hands in his pockets, one running a thumb over the rock. Cabaji noted this with a furrowed brow, “Captain,” he started with a sigh, “You’ve been…weird lately.”

Buggy recoiled, face scrunching in annoyance, “Fuck you mean?”

Cabaji rolled his eyes, pointing at Buggy’s hand, still in his pocket, “You’re holding onto a rock. Not gold, not a gem, some normal ass rock,” he stated, “You’re more snippy than usual, which is saying something, and you just don’t seem very…present.” Cabaji finished, fingers beginning to fiddle with the ends of his hair.

Buggy’s jaw clenched, but after a moment, he sighed, slumping his shoulders before slowly dragging his back down the wall, sitting on the cobbled ground. “I know.”

Cabaji’s eyes widened, “See! Even that’s weird!” he insisted, gesturing wildly, “You would usually throw a damned knife at me for saying any of this! What’s wrong?” He asked, crouching down to level with his captain. “What happened while you were with those Straw-Hats?”

Buggy scowled, ripping his ungloved hand out of his pocket, the stone in the center of his grip, and studied it as he spoke, “It’s not like they tortured me or something.” He started, causing Cabaji’s confusion to visibly grow, “I mean they weren’t nice obviously, but…” Buggy hesitated, finding his words. “One of them was.” He finally said, meeting Cabaji’s eye.

Cabaji blinked a few times, trying to process what that could mean, “How does that-“

Buggy cut him off, “It was Gale.” He spat, cradling the stone more. Cabaji’s mouth dropped open a bit and he sat down fully then, cocking his head to think. “She didn’t even know it was me, but she was…great!” Buggy continued, “She fed me, read to me, let me sleep in her bed, hell she washed my damned hair!” he exclaimed, squeezing the stone tightly. “And she likes me.” He mumbled, pushing his knees up to his chest. “She really actually likes me.”

Cabaji took a moment, unsure how to proceed, “Well, do you like her?” he asked awkwardly, fiddling with his hair again.

Buggy rolled his eyes with a huff, “The fuck do you think?” he snapped, holding up the stone where Cabaji could see, “I carry around this stupid rock because it’s the same color of her eyes, I have her bounty poster,” he continued, ripping the paper out of his pocket, shoving it into Cabaji’s lap, “And I still have this braid in my hair because she did it.” Buggy finished, tugging the small braid out of his bandana. “I’m fucking whipped!”

Cabaji couldn’t help but smirk a bit, “Sounds like it.” He chuckled, “Did you close the deal?”

Buggy felt heat rise to his face, eyes suddenly focused on the stone again, “I was just a head, so…kinda.” He coughed out.

Cabaji threw his head back in a cackle at that, “Holy shit, Captain!” he chided, smacking Buggy’s leg, “Still got it, huh?”

“Never really had it.” Buggy mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Cabaji grinned and unfolded the bounty poster in his lap and his brows shot up, “You bagged her?” he asked incredulously, “She’s fuckin gorgeous!”

“Hey! That’s my girl you’re talkin’ about!” Buggy hissed, snatching the poster. “But…yes. I don’t know how I did it.” He chuckled, looking at your snarled face in your picture.

“Where is she?” Cabaji asked, “She still with the Straw-Hats?”

Buggy frowned, “Yeah.”

“Let’s go get her.” Cabaji stated simply, “I mean if she likes you, I don’t think she’d mind.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“I have to wait.” Buggy explained. He saw Cabaji’s mouth open to ask why, but he cut him off, “She’s looking for something, Straw-Hat’s helping her. When she finds it, I can find her. We made a deal.”

Cabaji frowned, “Shitty deal.”

Buggy shrugged, “I’m not gonna stop her from doing what she has to do, I just…” he sighed, “I miss her, I guess. I want her here now, but I know I’m gonna have to wait.”

Cabaji nodded, mulling it over in his head before standing, extending a hand to his captain, “Let’s go. I’ll help with preparations for her arrival and ask some contacts to keep tabs on her, make sure she’s safe.” Buggy smiled softly, clapping his hand into Cabaji’s who hoisted him up, “Know where about she is?”

“Loguetown.” Buggy replied, walking stride for stride with the unicyclist, “That’s where her…thing is.” He explained.

Cabaji wanted to know what this ‘thing’ was but didn’t want to pry so he just nodded and kept walking. “So…” he asked, sunlight flowing over them as they emerged from the alley. Cabaji smirked a bit, “How’s she feel about the uh-“ he stopped himself, gesturing to Buggy’s face, especially the ‘center’ if you will.

Buggy’s eyes narrowed, “Shut the fuck up about my nose.” He growled, punching Cabaji in the arm.

Cabaji laughed, rubbing the sting out of the area, “Sorry, Boss. Curiosity killed the cat, you know?” Buggy rolled his eyes and kept walking. They remained in relative silence for the rest of the trek to the ship.

When they reached the ship, Buggy turned to head up to his captain’s quarters but hesitated, turning briefly to Cabaji, “She likes it.” He called, turning on his heel and getting back to work, all to the tune of Cabaji’s barked laughter.

Your eyes roamed over the expanses of Loguetown, clocking Marine after Marine through your spyglass. “This’ll be a close one,” you muttered to Luffy, “Crawling with Marines.”

“We’ll be fine.” Your captain said, waving you off, “We’ll get you your-“ Luffy cut himself off, sweeping the area, seeing you were both alone in the crow’s nest. “-fruit.” He whispered, “And then we’re off to the Grand Line! Easy peasy!” Luffy exclaimed, patting your shoulder.

You smiled at the boy, “We need a plan, Luffy.” You reasoned, resuming your sweep of the island from afar.

“Nami’s coming up with something, don’t worry about it!” he exclaimed, taking your spyglass out of your hands. Luffy’s smile shrank a bit as he closed it, “Zoro told me I need to talk to you.” He muttered lowly.

You pursed your lips, sighing deeply before guiding Luffy to sit with you, “Luffy. Do you remember our deal?” you asked, holding his hand.

“Which one?” he chuckled, “We have two.”

You huffed out a laugh, “Both, I guess.”

“Yeah.” He assured, squeezing your hand. “I remember.”

“I’m ready.” You explained, “I’m ready to go off and do my own thing, live my own life. I want to try and pursue my dreams now, all thanks to you.” You nudged his shoulder with yours before wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Luffy smiled wider, “You’re gonna go perform?” he asked, eyes sparkling. “Where?”

You bit your lips together before speaking, “You remember Buggy?” Luffy nodded, “Well…I love him.” You confessed, waiting for Luffy’s reaction before you continued.

Realization dawned on Luffy’s face, “Oh! That’s what that was!” he exclaimed, “I was wondering why you looked at him like that.”

You felt heat rise to your face at that, “Yeah,” you took a deep breath, “I want to go with him, and I told him I would after I found my…thing.” You explained.

Luffy nodded, taking this all in, “You want to join his crew.” He reasoned, wobbling his head side to side, “Okay.”

Your eyes shot wide, “Okay? Okay what?”

Luffy shrugged, smiling all the wider, “Okay, you can go. I won’t make you stay.” He explained, “Just don’t forget about us. Maybe visit every once in a while.”

You beamed at the boy, wrapping him up in a tight hug, “God, you’re such a good kid. You’re gonna be an amazing King.” The hug lasted for a good while, neither wanting to let go.

Luffy pulled back from the hug to look at you, “You said you knew Gol D. Roger?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah! Not for very long.” You said, “Remember how I was telling you about Cardinal and Peacock?”

“Yeah, Shanks!”

“They were still sailing with Roger when I knew them. It was a few months before they disbanded.” You elaborated, “So they brought me to meet Roger. I got to listen to his stories over dinner, and he let me onto the ship anytime I pleased while they stayed on my island. He even tried to get me to join them after he saw how well me, and the boys got along.”

“Wait.” Luffy said, cogs turning hard in his head, “If Cardinal was Shanks…the clown said something about sailing with Shanks when they were young.” He said, watching as your eyes widened in realization, “Would that make Binky Peacock?” he asked, beaming up at you.

You visibly flinched back at the thought, “Oh my God.” You whispered, “Buggy’s Peacock.” You shot up to your feet as you said that, beginning to pace as you spoke. “It’s been so long I couldn’t remember their faces, I only remembered Buggy’s eyes! Oh my god, it’s him!” you exclaimed. “Luffy!”

Said boy shot up with you, waving his arms around, wildly, “He’s your friend!”

“Oh, you beautiful, brilliant boy!” you squealed, picking him up and spinning him in an embrace, “We have to get that fruit now!” you exclaimed, setting him down. “Cause I gotta see Buggy!”

Luffy nodded with you, ready to climb down and tell the other Straw-Hats to hurry up the plans when he stopped, handing you back your spyglass, only a tiny grin pulling at his lips now, “I’m gonna miss you Clown Lady.”

You melted a bit, reaching out to hold the young boy’s face for a moment, “I’ll miss you too.” You said, a mischievous grin spreading over your face, “Call me when you’re king if you ever need a jester.” You chided, pulling him into a final hug, handing him something before descending to the deck below.

“So, I have Marine uniforms for everyone,” Nami stated, everyone surrounding her as she pointed to different points on the map of Loguetown and their Marine base. “We’ll sneak in here,” she said, pointing to a back way vent system, “And they’ll be keeping things like treasure and such here,” she said, pointing to a treasury room of sorts, eyes on you. “You’ll go there, Usopp made you a few bombs to blow open the vault door, okay?” you nodded, “As for the rest of you, we need to stock up, so I’m assigning you to-“ she trailed off in your mind as you stared at the map, trying to memorize it as thoroughly as you could.

“Then who’s with Clown Lady?” Luffy asked, pointing at you, “She doesn’t have a partner.”

“Yes she does,” Nami chuckled, “Me!” she exclaimed, “I’m gonna steal a bunch of their Berry for us, and see what else they’ve got.”

You locked eyes with her for a moment, nodding, “Okay, if you’re going with me, I’m gonna need to talk to you after this meeting, okay? Gonna explain what I’m looking for.” You said, her cocking a brow, intrigued.

The meeting wrapped up shortly after, everyone grabbing a Marine uniform and heading to other parts of the ship, only you and Nami remaining. You turned to the young woman and sighed, “Can I trust you?” you asked tentatively, Nami’s face scrunched in offense, going to retort, but you held your hands up and continued, “This is very important to me, and I need reassurance that you really are on my side here. I need to know you won’t try to take it.”

Nami set her jaw, still clearly a bit peeved, “I won’t take it.” She said, raising a hand to clear her hair out of her face, “I promise.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath, “It’s a Devil Fruit.” You explained, Nami’s eyes shot open, “It’s been in my family for as long as there’s been Devil Fruit. The Marines stole it during my father’s funeral, and I want it back.”

Nami nodded slowly, “Okay, but why?” she asked, “Like you don’t seem the type to want powers or something.”

You sighed, leaning against the table that still housed the maps you had been using, “It’s my duty. I have to eat it.” You explained.

Nami shrugged, “What happens if you…don’t?”

You blinked a few times, trying to process things, “I can’t let the Marines have it. It’s too powerful.” You reasoned. “It would only make their corruption worse. Nami, it’s called the Kaku Kaku no Mi, the Paint Paint Fruit. It can make soulless versions of living things, you just have to paint it. They could paint an army.” You explained.

Nami sighed, “Why does it have to be you? Why can’t you just, I don’t know, throw it in the ocean? Or keep it with us and we’ll put it on the top of some mountain, or we could find someone better to eat it.” She suggested, a soft look of concern on her pretty face, “You shouldn’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

“There’s too much risk in that, I mean, what if someone finds it in the ocean, or it washes up somewhere? If you guys keep it, what if you get raided, or worse targeted for having it.”

“Have you tried destroying it?” Nami asked, “We could burn it.”

You thought for a moment, “Would it come back if you burned it?”

Nami shrugged, “I’ve heard of it working but I’ve never seen it. If we do it on the ship, worst comes to worst, it’ll be on my tangerine tree, and you can eat it then. Just…wait?” she suggested.

Your mouth went dry, but you nodded, “I can wait.”

Getting inside of the base went much easier than you expected, you and Nami sneaking around effortlessly, you subtly laying a trail of ‘breadcrumbs’ in case you needed to find your way out that’s less dramatic than a window. The vault is on the third floor, after all.

When you reached the treasury room, you saw a large vault door, guarded by two young Marines, ‘Really? They put fresh meat on the vault?’ you thought to yourself as you and Nami walked up to them.

“Shift’s over boys,” you barked, hoping your age and tone of authority make them listen, “I don’t know what you did, but you pissed off Smoker big time. He wants you in his office, immediately.” The two young Marines straightened up in fear, eyes wide as they stammered, saluting you quickly before rushing down the hallway, away from you two.

Nami grinned, “You gotta teach me how to do that,”

“I’m just a very persuasive person.” You shrugged, digging in your pockets to find the low-level explosives Usopp made you, placing them along the corners of the door. When they were in position, you stepped back, arm out to make Nami move with you, other hand occupied by a dead man switch, your thumb indenting from the pressure of you holding it. “Cover your ears.” You said with a smile, letting go of the button.

BOOM, CLANG.

The door now laid flat at your feet, and you and Nami hurried in, Nami immediately shoving Berry and gems and gold into a bag she had brought, while your eyes scanned the room, landing on the large, colorful fruit, “There you are, you bastard.” You hissed, grabbing the thing and shoving it into your own bag.

“Hey! Freeze!” bellowed an older Marine from the other end of the long hallway, already calling on backup.

You grinned and stepped out of the vault, Nami right behind you, “Window?” you asked her, nodding to the large pane of glass next to you.

“Window.” She nodded, both of you stepping back before launching at the pane of glass, shoulder first, it shattered around you, both of you freefalling for a moment.

When you landed, Nami was a bit more graceful than you, rolling onto her back. You however hit the ground with a heavy ‘oof’, but popped up quickly, breaking into a dead sprint with your crewmate toward the docks. After a moment, you pulled something out of your pocket, a little cackle leaving your throat. Nami looked over at you and saw a remote in your hand, looking back when you pressed it, skidding to a stop.

BOOM

The marine base lit up in a chain reaction of explosions, ending right where you two had jumped out of the window, a rise of massive, orange flames.

“Usopp’s not the only one who’s been busy making stuff.” You exclaimed, grabbing Nami’s arm and resuming your mad dash to the dock.

“What if you hurt the others?!” Nami yelled, running right next to you, “That was stupid!” You shook your head, “You sent them to wings that wouldn’t have been hurt by the bombs, and they’re already out!” You called over the wind of your momentum, “Luffy gave me a signal!” you said, gesturing to a small transponder snail connected to your ear. “He’ll pick us up at the dock!”

Nami was befuddled, bewildered, amazed, “You really are meant to be with Buggy!” she yelled, a laugh breaking through.

Your cackle rose through the air as you spotted the dock, a certain rubber captain waving you over, ready to launch you all onto the ship. “There he is!” you yelled, pointing to the boy. “LUFFY!” you yelled, waving your arms to tell him to get ready. He grinned wide, readying his stance.

Just when you and Nami were stepping onto the dock, you saw something, a gleam out of the corner of your eye. It was a camera. You smiled wide as you ever had and saluted at the lens.

‘I’m coming, Buggy.’ You thought, heart fluttering.

“Okay, everybody!” Came the booming voice of your captain, Luffy gathering all of your attention under the night sky, “I have an announcement!”

You all gathered around him, chatter dying down.

Luffy smiled, “Today, we helped our dear Clown Lady achieve one of her goals.” He began, gesturing to you. A chorus of little whoops and whistles resounded with raised liquor bottles and smiles, “Now, I have to let her achieve one of her dreams.” Causing a few confused glances around the group. You smiled at your captain, your hands wrapped around the bag that sat in your lap, “Very very soon, our Clown Lady will be leaving us.” Luffy explained.

A look of understanding overcame your crewmates’ faces, “She will be joining another crew, following her heart like I tell all of you to do.” He said, his smile never wavering. “She will be missed, but I don’t want to mope with the time we have left. Let’s celebrate, give her a sendoff she’ll never forget!” He exclaimed to cheers, motioning to Nami, who popped up and quickly retrieved something, a metal barrel with branches and dry grass inside.

“Can I have a light, Sanji?” Nami asked.

The blond cook nodded, “Of course,” he said, taking his lighter out of his pocket, “Anything for my girls.” He said, lighting the flame and lowering it down to the dry kindling, watching it take immediately.

The fire took quickly, a bright orange tower of flames licking into the inky sky above.

Luffy called your name, gesturing for you to “take the stage”. You chuckled and rose, taking your captain’s position, him stealing your seat.

“I bet you guys have been wondering what I went to all of this trouble to find.” You began, nervously fiddling with the seam of the burlap bag you still had hung over your shoulder. “Well, here it is,” you said, scooping the large fruit out and holding it up for them all to see. A few shocked gasps resounded from Usopp and Sanji, Zoro only quirking a brow. “This was my father’s Devil Fruit, and his father’s, and his father’s and so on and so forth as long as Devil Fruit have been around.” You explained, looking at the colorful skin of this thing that has caused you so much strife. “I am meant to be the next in line to eat it, to keep it out of the government’s hands. But…” you trailed off, meeting Nami’s eyes, “I don’t think I want to.” You finally said. “I never wanted powers or anything like that. I just want to be…normal. Well, as normal as you can be when you’re a pirate.” You joked, a few snickers around the circle. “Nami suggested we try to burn it. See if that destroys it once and for all.”

Zoro frowned, “What if it doesn’t?”

“Then my one of my tangerines will become the fruit and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Nami explained, urging you to go ahead.

You took a deep breath, the sweet scent of the fire offering you a bit of comfort as you held your hands out, hands shaking as the fruit hovered above the fire. “I’ll see you in hell, you dumbass fruit.” You said, dropping it into the flames, cheers of your crew mates resounding through the air. The flames ate at the fruit greedily, charring the outside and peeling its skin. The flames kicked up and grew as if you had poured gasoline onto it. As the fire bit into the flesh of the fruit, the flames curled and writhed, heating up even more. The fire burned hotter and faster, consuming the fruit until nothing was left, not even ash.

All was quiet other than the fire as you all eyed the tangerine trees, silently praying that they would stay tangerines. After a solid five minutes, nothing happened and your eyes welled with tears, “I think…I think it worked.” You whispered, smiles growing all around the crew.

Luffy got up to his feet, bounding up to you, taking you into a swinging hug, “You’re free, Clown Lady!” he exclaimed as you sobbed into his shoulder, arms wrapped around him tightly.

You sniffled as he settled down, “I’m free, Luffy.” You whispered.

“Let’s party!” Luffy yelled, pulling back from you. “We got a lot to celebrate!”

Buggy had just docked at a new island, on track for the Grand Line, and frankly on track for Loguetown. He had practically leaped off of the ship when they managed to anchor, running to the town square as quickly as he could.

“Sir.” Cabaji said, pushing open the door to Buggy’s captain’s quarters, a grin he was trying to suppress on his face, “There’s been an explosion at Loguetown’s Marine base.”

Buggy went rigid, head snapping up to look at the unicyclist. “What?”

“I think she found it.” Cabaji said, “I’ve redirected us to the closest port so you can check.” He explained, letting the smile spread onto his face.

“Where is it, where is it?” Buggy mumbled, searching over the area to find the bounty board. “There!” he exclaimed, rushing to it. “Croc, me, Rubber boy, Sword fucker, the cook…” Buggy trailed off as his eyes landed on yours. Your poster. It was a new one, freshly printed. Your bounty had been raised to a clean 20,000,000. But what made him pause was your picture. You were in a Marine uniform, looking right at the camera, a bag strapped over your shoulder, something large and round inside. You were smiling with a little two fingered salute. A big beaming smile. You found it. You blew up a Marine base, and you found it. He’s in love.

Buggy smiled wide, snatching your poster off of the board, running straight back to the docks, “CABAJI! WE’RE GOING BACK OUT! SHE GOT IT!”

Buggy couldn’t drop his smile as he sat on the clown figurehead at the front of the Big Top. His freaks were perturbed, and kept checking on him, making sure he was okay, bringing him food. Buggy hadn’t sat up there in years, getting too afraid of falling off, but not now. Now he was sitting on the clown’s head, beaming.

Buggy laid back, arms behind his head and looked up at the stars, wondering if you were looking up at them too. He was having his crew sail through the night, impatient and ready to have you in his arms again. Hell, he didn’t even want to sleep. He wasn’t going to, but Cabaji practically dragged the clown into his captain’s quarters, violently tucking him in. Buggy thought he wouldn’t be able to doze off, but after a while longer of daydreaming about you, he slipped into actual dreams. Dreams of holding you and of quiet nights with you braiding his hair.

When he woke up, he immediately scrambled back onto the figurehead, using binoculars to try and spot the Straw-Hat’s ship. He had slept in, kind of by force, Cabaji not allowing anyone near the captain’s quarters or any loud noises all throughout the ship, all in hopes of forcing Buggy to sleep through the trip to where Cabaji’s contact said the Straw-Hats were anchored, presumably waiting for them.

So there Buggy sat, practically vibrating in excitement, eyes on the horizon. “You really are whipped,” came a voice from behind him, Cabaji coming up to sit beside Buggy.

Buggy scowled, “I’ll push you off.”

Cabaji barked out a laugh, “I bet you would!” Buggy rolled his eyes, “So, I thought I’d help you kill some time.” The unicyclist said, clapping his captain on the back, “Tell me something about your little Nightingale.”

Buggy huffed out a laugh, “What do you wanna know?”

Cabaji shrugged, “You take her on a date yet?”

Buggy shook his head, “Kinda did when I was fifteen, but I don’t know if it counts.” He chuckled.

“Whatcha mean?”

“Well,” Buggy began, setting his binoculars in his lap, “First off, we weren’t dating. Second, we didn’t kiss, and third,” Buggy lost the end of his sentence to a laugh for a moment, “we ended it by running for our lives.” He said, taking off his signature gloves, shoving them in his pocket.

Cabaji smirked, “Best dates do.” He said, nudging Buggy’s shoulder, “What happened?”

“Do-do you want to go see a play with me?” Buggy asked, wringing his hands in front of him, afraid to meet your eye.

You grinned and nodded, “Of course!” you exclaimed, “Is Cardinal coming or is it just us?”

Buggy slumped forward a bit, his whole face feeling like it was on fire, “I-I was hoping it’d be just you and me, Nightingale.” He stuttered out, “But-but I can ask if he wants to come if you want me to!” Buggy added on quickly, waving his hands in front of him, worried he’d made you uncomfortable.

You giggled, grabbing Buggy’s waving hands, “I’d like that, Peacock. Just you and me.” You said, giving his hands a quick squeeze.

‘SHE’S HOLDING MY HANDS!’ Buggy thought with a start.

Buggy melted a bit, knees a little unstable, loving your laugh and smile, “Go-good!” he exclaimed, “It’s a new play at the theater in the square, it’s called ‘The Princess and the Fool’.” He continued, still having trouble meeting your eye, “It’s apparently really good, I’ve heard tons of people talking about it in the markets today.”

“That sounds great! How much are tickets?” you asked, beginning to walk toward the center of town, still holding one of Buggy’s hands. Buggy’s heart skipped a beat, but he recovered quicker this time.

Buggy snickered, “You think we’re paying? You’re with a real-life pirate!” he exclaimed, jamming a thumb in his chest, “We’ll sneak in! Get into the best seats in the house!”

You laughed, “And where would that be?”

“The balcony, duh. I’m gonna get us into the rich people seats!”

“Oooh,” Cabaji hummed, “I see why you had to run.”

Buggy shook his head with a mischievous smirk, “Just you wait.”

When the two of you reached the heart of the island, you stopped, turning to Buggy, “Do you want to get some dinner first? Or do we have time?” you asked, scanning the area for food stands.

Buggy nodded, “If we get something fast, we can eat it during the show.” Buggy looked around before an idea dawned on him, “You-you can pick what we get!” he insisted.

You thought for a moment, still scanning the area, “How about some arepas from over there and some fries from that one,” you suggested pointing to the different stands, “and we can get some sodas from him!”

Buggy nodded, already walking you two towards the arepa stand. “Sounds good to me!” he chirped, “You know these stands better than I do!”

You laughed loudly as Buggy practically dragged you toward the savory smelling stand. You waved at the happy, portly man who owned and ran it, “Hello Mr. Ricardo!” you chimed.

Mr. Ricardo smiled wide, “Hello, chicken girl!” he chortled, “The usual?”

Buggy turned to you briefly, “Chicken girl?”

You smiled and waved him off, “Two of em.” You said, “Make sure it’s all of the good stuff, my friend here hasn’t been here before.”

“Yes ma’am!” he jokingly saluted you, turning to grab a few of his arepas, placing them in wax paper and folding them in a way that made it easy to hold, handing them to you with a grin, “Here you go!” you took the food and said your thanks, reaching into your pocket for your stash of Berry, but Buggy beat you to it, slapping a few notes onto the wooden counter before dragging you to the next stand, you protesting the whole way, “See you later, chicken girl!”

“You didn’t have to pay for me!” you exclaimed, kicking Buggy in the knee.

Buggy’s hands went to cradle it, hopping on his good foot, “Let me be nice, woman!” he chuckled, “I wanna treat you tonight!”

You pouted a bit, “I feel bad though, you don’t have to waste your money on me.” You whined, kicking at some dust on the ground.

Buggy’s smile softened a bit, “It’s never a waste if it’s for you, Gale.” He said, taking one of the sets of arepas from you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off, “Now, I have two questions, one, what’s an arepa, and two, chicken girl?”

You sighed, walking with Buggy toward the stand you wanted the fries from, “Well, arepas are basically fillings like cheeses and meats inside of some special kind of flatbread.” You explained, ripping off a piece of the shell of one of your arepas, holding it up for Buggy to try, “Here. Try some!”

Buggy felt his ears burn, but he relented, taking the piece you offered into his mouth, careful not to touch your fingers. Buggy liked it, the taste was basic but warming and almost buttery, Buggy hummed in approval, “That’s good.” He said.

You smiled, putting your hand at your side, “It’s even better with all of the fillings and stuff.” You explained. “And he calls me chicken girl because he never remembers my name, and one time I was helping another stall nearby and one of their chickens got out, so I had to chase it! It took all afternoon! I swear that thing was smarter than me!” you both laughed at the silly tale, coming up on the stand you were looking for, “Of course he remembers that and not my name.”

You waved at the new stand owner, holding up two fingers with a smile. She nodded and got to grabbing two paper cones, filling them with the crispy fries. You took them from her with a smile, and she motioned something with her hands. Buggy tried to give her a few notes of Berry, but she waved him off, giving him a wink. Buggy blinked for a moment, putting the money back in his pocket. You frowned and motioned with your hands, communicating something with displeasure. The stall owner simply stuck out her tongue, turning away with a smile.

You sighed and started your way toward the next stand, “She said she gave us fresh ones,” you explained, handing Buggy a cone. “She never lets me pay even though I try, says she owes me.”

“What for?” he asked.

“I babysit her younger sister all the time,” you explained, “she has trouble finding help.”

“Why didn’t she talk?”

“She’s deaf. Her whole family is.” Buggy hummed in understanding, grabbing one of his fries out of his cone with his teeth, hissing at the hot potato, “I go over to their house for dinner sometimes. They love me.” You chuckled, “They think it’s really cool I learned sign language so I could talk to them.”

“Is that what that was?” Buggy asked. You nodded, “You should teach me some.”

You grinned at the boy, “I’ll teach you a couple after the play.” Buggy agreed eagerly as you got to the last stall. It was actually a cart run by a young boy with one front tooth and a Marine’s cap with the ‘Marine’ crossed out.

“Brat.” You acknowledged the boy with a curt nod,

“Witch.” He nodded back, “Whatcha need?” Buggy looked between the two of you, bewildered.

“Two Tony’s please.” You said simply.

‘Brat’ nodded and dug two bottles of orange liquid out of some ice, setting them onto the counter, “Hundred Berry.” He said, a nod of finality.

You scowled, “I’ll knock out your other tooth, you little shit.”

The boy blanched, “Two berry.” He amended, rubbing the nape of his neck. “God you’re damned scary.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy, “I’ll tell your mother you’re hiking prices and cursing.” You hissed, lowering your head to his level, “I know it’s only one Berry for two you ass.”

Buggy looked at you in shock, taking in your threatening aura with awe. He couldn’t help but think you��d make a damned good pirate.

You ripped a single berry out of your pocket, slapping it onto the cart and grabbing both bottles by the neck, “I’ll see you tomorrow, you little conman.” You said, knocking the boy’s hat off of his head. You hooked your arm through Buggy’s and started walking, “Come on, let’s go get our seats.” You insisted.

Buggy laughed loudly, “You gotta tell me the story there.”

You rolled your eyes with a frown, “He’s my neighbor. I have to watch him all the time for his mom when she goes out to fish, and he’s such a thorn in my side.” You explained, guiding Buggy to the theatre.

“Sounds like it.” He chuckled.

You motioned in front of you with your head, “We going in the front or the back?” you asked.

“What do you think?”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you sighed, walking the two of you around to the back end of the large building. Back there you found two windows and an employee’s only entrance. “Door or window?”

“I’ll try the door first,” Buggy said, pushing at the painted wood with no success. “Window it is.” He said, backing up to get a better look. “I think I can reach-“ “It’s a pull door, Peacock.” You chided, holding open the door.

Buggy blushed, “I knew that.”

As you made your way through the back halls of the theatre, you avoided workers effortlessly, often having to grab Buggy by the hand or the collar and drag him behind corners or next to a crate of some kind. At one point, you found a stray top hat, and put it onto Buggy’s head with a giggle. You quietly made your way up a set of stairs, finding a door that led to a low lit, patterned carpet hallway, “Must be the right way,” you whispered, “It’s looking fancy already.” You both snickered to each other for a moment before quickly making your way down the hall, finding a small set of crushed velvet curtains.

“After you, m’lady.” Buggy said dramatically, giving you a bow, top hat in hand and holding open the curtain for you.

You gave a deep, dramatic curtsy, “Thank you, m’lord.” You tried to hold in your smile, but you couldn’t, a grin splitting your face as you went into the little booth, grabbing Buggy’s hand on the way, causing him to drop the hat.

There was no one else in this particular booth, leaving the two of you alone, only two seats in the little closed off area. You both sat down quickly, settling in and situating your meals between you.

“Oh, here.” You whispered, grabbing one of the bottles of soda, “Lemme open it.” You quickly put the lip of the bottle cap on the balcony railing and slammed your free hand down onto it, the lid popping off and clattering to the ground. You held the bottle out for Buggy who took it eagerly. You grabbed your own bottle and opened it in the same way. Once it was opened, you leaned back in your plush seat and turned to Buggy, facing him fully, “This is my favorite drink. It’s only on our island, it’s a peach and mango soda one of our people came up with!” you explained, holding up your bottle. Buggy did the same, going to clink it against yours, but you wrapped your arm around his, “Bottoms up, Peacock.” You said cheekily, taking a sip.

Buggy swallowed dryly before trying a drink of his own, enjoying the sweet flavor and the bite of the bubbles. “That’s good shit.” He muttered as you untangled your arm from his.

You nodded, pointing to the food he had in his lap, “Eat up! While it’s still hot.” You said, grabbing one of your arepas and taking a bite.

Buggy grabbed one of his own and took a bite, ‘Damn. All the food is so good here.’ He thought to himself.

“You know,” you said through a bite of your food, “I’m glad it’s just you and me tonight.” Buggy almost choked on his food, having to take a double take, “I mean, I think I’m gonna miss you the most, Peacock.” You muttered, taking another bite. Buggy swears up and down his heart stopped for a moment when you said that. He tried to say something, but you continued, “I think you’re really cool, and I hope I’ll get to see you again after you leave.”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Buggy couldn’t say what he wanted to, your attention stolen by the man on stage, announcing the start of the play. The lights went down quickly all around the crowd, a spotlight on the announcer, “Welcome!-“ Buggy tuned out the man’s spiel, eyes focused on you. Your eyes were wide with wonder as you watched the stage, completely enamored by the theatrics.

Throughout the first act, Buggy found himself looking at you for every reaction, every minute emotion on your face as you watched. You two saw the princess sworn off to a duke of a far-off land to stop a war, as a result she fell into deep sorrow. Her father, the king, saw this and sent his court jester to amuse her, make her laugh, but try as he might, she just can’t seem to even smile. Day after day the jester tried, and day after day the princess’s sorrow grew. Finally, she had enough, the wedding was days away and she couldn’t take it. She held a dagger over her heart, ready to take her life when the jester appeared. He stopped her and took away the knife, soothing her as she cried. As the act drew to a close, the jester gave a soliloquy about how he was falling in love with the beautiful princess, but he couldn’t hope to marry her for fear of execution, speaking as he wrote his thoughts into his journal alongside waxing poetics and jokes to try out, determined to make her laugh. The last scene of the act was of the king’s advisor finding the journal and opening it, when he did, you gasped and took Buggy’s hand in shock, giving Buggy a heart attack.

“Oh my god, Peacock!” you gushed as intermission began, “This is amazing!”

Buggy smiled, “Glad I got you to come.”

You still held onto Buggy’s hand, leaning closer to him, “I really hope they get to run away together.”

Buggy stiffened slightly, a lump forming in his throat “Do you think she’d go with him if he asked?” he said tentatively.

“Of course!” you insisted, “She’s clearly already falling in love with him, and she hates all her responsibilities in her home.” You scoffed, “Sounds like a dream come true to me.” You mumbled, resting your head on Buggy’s shoulder.

Buggy stared at you for a moment, hesitant, “Would you…would you want to go with me?” he whispered, his grip on your hand tightening a bit.

You went rigid briefly, “What are you asking, Peacock?”

Buggy swallowed his nerves, “Would you like to go away with me, sail with Gol D. Roger?”

You lifted your head, reaching your free hand out to cradle Buggy’s face, sorrow in your eyes, “I can’t.” you whispered, moving your hand to the back of Buggy’s head, threading your fingers in his hair. “I want to more than you’ll ever know, but…I have to stay here.” You said, bringing Buggy’s head close, resting your forehead against his.

“Why?” Buggy whined, watching as you winced slightly, closing your eyes.

“I’m my parents’ only child, and they’re getting old. If I leave, no one will be there to take care of them.” You reasoned, opening your eyes to stare into his, “If I could, I would sail across the horizon with you tonight.”

Cabaji scowled, “Sounds like she has a lot of shit with her parents and responsibility.” He said.

Buggy nodded, forlorn, “She’s loyal to a fault. Always has been.”

You and Buggy were interrupted by muffled voices in the hall behind you, making you pull away to listen to the intrusion, “What’s this hat doing here?” came a gruff voice. You and Buggy paled, eyes wide. “Check through those curtains,” another voice suggested.

The curtains pulled back, showing you a trio of uniformed Marines, “Fuckin asshats.” You mumbled, you two putting your feet on the ground slowly, readying to run.

“What are you little shits doing in here?” asked the tallest of the trio. The three immediately blocked off the whole exit, shoulder to shoulder. “C’mere.” The tall one commanded, waving you both over.

You and Buggy shared a look, but walked behind your seats, facing the men head on. “What do you want?” you spat, crossing your arms.

One of the Marines with glasses cackled at your abrasive attitude, “Feisty one, heh?”

The last of the three, a man with a patchy beard looked you up and down, a smirk on his face, “Pretty lil thing, aren’t cha.”

You snarled, about to speak when Buggy beat you to it, “Shut the fuck up, you nasty perv.” He hissed, stepping in front of you, moving you behind him.

Beardie scowled, “The fuck you call me?” he growled, grabbing Buggy by his collar, “Cause I know some freak with a fuckin pomegranate for a nose ain’t talking shit to me.” Buggy glared, grappling at the hand holding his shirt.

“Put him the fuck down!” You yelled, throwing a right hook against the Marine’s jaw without question, knocking him back. You grabbed Buggy’s hand and kicked beardie in the crotch, dodging away from the other two Marines, and sprinting into the hallway, back out the way you came in, dodging actors and technicians alike, practically dragging him through the theatre.

“GRAB THOSE FUCKERS!”

You two burst out of the building, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light change, but you plowed onwards, dragging Buggy toward the center of town again, weaving through the stalls. “MARINES!” You yelled out, “MARINES CHASING US!” Now, your island was no normal island. Your island actively chased out or maimed Marines who do anything other than be peaceful and buy shit. So much so, that the second you announced their presence, half the square pulled out a weapon of some kind, going after the trio that tailed you.

You slowed as you approached the fountain in the middle of the square, sitting on its rim, heaving for breath, “Damn, Peacock.” You coughed out, “You know how to show a girl a good time!” Buggy gave a sarcastic chuckle, sitting next to you, slumping into your side.

“I did have fun though.” You said through your heavy breathing. “We should hang out one on one more before you leave.” You laughed.

Buggy nodded with a laugh that turned into a coughing fit, “Don’t die!” you teased, patting him on the back.

Buggy flipped you the bird as he caught his breath, “Fuck you, Gale.”

You smiled and bit your lips, thinking. After a moment you nodded to yourself and leaned into Buggy, laying a peck on his cheek. Buggy’s face lit up beet red, sputtering, trying to find the right words to say.

You just laughed, laying your head back on Buggy’s shoulder, “Thank you, Peacock.”

Buggy sighed, fiddling with the binoculars in his lap, “I had to leave only a few days later. When I left, me, her, and Shanks all promised to see each other again, but we never were able to. Not until she helped that Rubber Fucker steal the map.”

Cabaji nodded, a genuine smile on his face, “She sounds like a good catch, Cap.”

“She is.” Buggy sighed, bringing his binoculars back up to his eyes, scanning to the left. “How much farther?” Cabaji laughed, and nudged Buggy’s gaze forwards, to the right. “Holy shit!” Buggy exclaimed, popping up to stand on the clown head, Cabaji following shortly, “THERE IT IS! SHE’S RIGHT THERE!”

“Let’s get your girl, Captain.” Cabaji said, clapping Buggy on the back before turning back and guiding the man onto the main deck again.

Shortly after, the ships pulled up next to each other and the Big Top laid anchor, Buggy’s crew slamming down a large plank to connect the ships, a chorus of curious murmurs echoing through the quiet space. Afterall, their captain had said nothing of a raid, and he wasn’t even wearing his hat and coat.

“After you, Captain.” Cabaji said lowly, gesturing for him to walk ahead. “Go get her.”

#one piece #strawhats #straw hat pirates #fanfic #reader insert #fem reader #opla #haveatthee83 #buggy d. clown #one piece buggy #buggy #pirate buggy #buggy d. clown x reader #buggy d. clown x you #childhood friends #maneskin

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soleilnomoon · 1 year

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Prompt: “I don’t like them; I can barely tolerate them.” for Abarai Renji. Once again, I leave it up to you what you wanna do (but maybe enemies to lovers) Yes, I might be on a little Bleach binge right now but it's okay you like it. kiss kiss

*hides face* ok, ok, ok, hear me out, let's pretend i didn't take *insert accurate length of time here* and say i wrote this in a few days. i am so sorry i took forever and ever with this but as u know i can only give u top quality work or else i'll never forgive myself. renji is.......well *motions to him* yk how that man is, he made me suffer!!!! in a good way!!! but still i suffered!!! yk how much i love enemies 2 lovers u big brained beauty 🤭 so ty baby❤️️ also this is my first renji fic and i can't belev it.

5.2k words (don't look at me, just don't), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, enemies 2 lovers, angst city, angst angst city biiiitch (yk the vibez babey), smut obviously, no fluff bc who do u think i am? feat. renji being a mean petty bitch (i guess that makes him a mean dom maybe yes), sub reader bc that's what i want; there's a party with alcohol, ichigo and co. make brief appearances, bathroom sex, choking (he's sf romantic), a lot of cursing bc they're grown that's why, renji is a beast when he's jealous, reader is a lil bit of a brat but lbr who wouldn't be in that situation; mutual ""unrequited"" pining, lots of tension, fingering, rough (consensual) sex, lil bit of degradation, lil bit of a size kink, lil bit of praise kink, idk there's probably more stuff but i'm so tired rn i can't think; um renji obviously comes w his own gd warning; reader is determined to not let this man win but, hello, it's renji he always comes out on top wink wink. (if u see spelling errors/mistakes no u didn't hottie)

“when i write about all of this it becomes its own kind of violence. / i retell the story as myth, as if it were my own body devoured.” — caitlin scarano & “so much of love is violence. the desire / to be split open, invaded, mangled / and made new.” — erin slaughter

HATRED X TASTES X SWEET

you’ve never been cut out for this line of work, but your insistence on eliminating all your shortcomings is commendable. brave, even. it’s something you don’t really think about unless you want to spend the night half-drunk, rambling about the things you should’ve done but never had the courage to do.

like telling a certain red-haired, bullheaded lieutenant that he’s the most ridiculous and excessively arrogant man you’ve ever come across. all in all, you’re pretty sure telling him off won’t phase him; nothing ever does, not really anyway.

at first you try politeness; your grandmother would be proud of how well you’ve learned to bite your tongue. it’s ungraceful, but you fake it well enough that others think your emotional maturity is far above theirs. little do they know, you actually have to literally bite your tongue; simply remaining silent isn’t easy for you anymore. so, when you bite, it’s with rage, months of unshed tears and accumulated spite; you bite your tongue so hard you bleed more every time.

your unsaid words bunch together — tiny soldiers determined to strike in unison without fail — and sit heavily in the back of your throat, ready to launch forward at your command.

but you never say them, and you choke more than once; an unbearable shame to carry with you as he continues to slash at your patience, thin ribbons cascading off you like confetti. you wonder if your anger will lead to your death— or if it’ll lead to his. you intend to keep all of that hidden, though, and keep reminding yourself that eventually he will tire from berating you, from talking to you as if you’re the most incompetent being in all of soul society, from looking at you like your very being disgusts him.

that’s what you tell yourself these days. you like to conveniently ignore the way his dark eyes linger on yours during meetings — you’ve noticed that people have taken to describing them as soulless, cold and critical, unimpressed at everything and anyone.

but you see him — all of him; the raw, feral, powerful and severe side that not many have the misfortune of knowing. they think they get the real version of renji whenever they deal with him, but they never do; you know that now. you doubt it’s even intentional on his part, or maybe — just maybe — he really does hate you.

to put it plainly, as you’ve told rukia and rangiku, the sixth division lieutenant has the biggest fucking chip on his shoulder. despite the walls he continues to put up to keep others from carving out a place for themselves in his life, despite the way his words roll around his mouth, clumsily coasting down the length of his tongue before they pierce the air around you with their toxicity — you’re tired of the way he purposely singles you out time and time again to point out your inadequacies without remorse.

abarai renji is also sick of dealing with you. whenever he thinks he’s found a means of scaring you off, you scurry right back more determined and more obnoxious than ever. which is rich, coming from him.

he claims you’re inconsequential, a nuisance — a pest, even — one that he intends to get rid of permanently. it’s harsh and he’s more than aware of that, but he finds that this is the most appropriate solution to his problem. he could easily ignore you; he could try to keep his comments to himself and try to be somewhat cordial whenever you cross paths. but he won’t. and he has no damn idea why.

“no, no come in, i have plenty of snacks for everyone.”

rukia’s voice is a constant in his life that he’ll always be thankful for. he watches her glide into the room, grinning at the friends she’s invited over, her laughter like soft bells that is easily recognizable even with all the conversation happening. when he feels his chest constrict, an uncomfortable, yet familiar warmth stretching over his skin, he decides to drink so that he can ignore the sensation and forget.

a feeble attempt, because he knows how this will all end — with him drunk off his ass in an even worse mood than he started.

mouth opening, renji prepares to tell rukia to get better sake, when rangiku leads you into the living room where he’s lounging comfortably. the bottle in his hand grows heavier by the second and suddenly he’s not very interested in drinking anymore. already, his foul mood from earlier returns, and every step you take only fuels his irritation; it bubbles underneath his skin, making him frown and grip the bottle tighter.

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s glaring at you — he always is. rangiku feigns obliviousness as she encourages you to go make yourself comfortable while she fetches snacks with rukia. you stare at both of them, wide-eyed, confused — a pleading look sliding onto your face after a few moments, but they assure you both that they’ll be back shortly.

with a sigh you sit on the armchair adjacent to him, determined to just remain quiet in the hopes that he’ll just ignore you for once. sitting up straight, discomfort finds its way to the pit of your stomach, swirling around as you fidget with the bracelet around your wrist. his eyes watch your movements with an obsessiveness that startles him; there’s no reason why he should be interested in the shape of your fingers, there’s no reason why he should be interested in the way you keep brushing stray curls away from your face, and there’s no reason why he should be interested in possibly fucking you when he knows for a fact that he is absolutely uninterested in you.

his disinterest runs so deep it spoils the taste of the sake, but he takes another swig anyway. the alcohol burns as it travels swiftly down his throat, and it just so happens that you glance over at him — innocuous, an attempt to gauge his annoyance level — as his throat bobs and your mouth dries at the sight.

you turn your face away quickly, a traitorous flush crawling slowly along your skin, unjustly warming your cheeks. inhaling deeply, you do your best to will the blush away to no avail. where the hell are rukia and rangiku? surely it can’t take that long to grab snacks. you’re tempted to go find them, but you have a sinking feeling that it would turn you into a coward.

and you refuse to give that man any more ammo against you.

IT’S X (NOT) X YOU

what initially starts as a small get-together, quickly turns into a party; leave it to rangiku to liven things up, her laughter infectious and whimsical, flitting about like a persistent hummingbird as she encourages everyone to play drinking games with her. experience taught him better than to engage because despite his high tolerance, there’s really no beating rangiku when she’s on a roll.

but when you emphatically agree to play with the rest, fury rises in his chest; your audacity, it seems, knows no bounds — and, yes, he understands the hypocrisy in his critique. he just doesn’t care.

the games are every bit as simple and ridiculous as you thought they’d be, but as everyone seems to be in relatively good spirits, you play along. not normally competitive with things like this, you get into the swing of things when you win round after round.

cheers resound nearby at your success, but throughout the evening, you feel renji’s stare and do everything in your power to not give in and look back at him. a tough feat to say the least, as you are always acutely aware of his presence; and when you do happen to sneak another glance, his legs are spread and you curse under your breath for finding that attractive.

foolish, you chide, so fucking foolish.

renji sucks his teeth as he feels a heaviness in his head; groaning loudly he swirls around what little sake he has left in his glass before finishing it.

“you lose again,” rukia’s voice is soft and teasing, but he’s annoyed and can’t be bothered with talking to her right now. she pats his shoulder gingerly before standing up to head to the kitchen. his mind is a mess and he blames you for it completely.

“i don’t fucking care,” he says gruffly to her retreating figure, not bothering to elevate his voice as he’s sure she heard him. and he really doesn’t care; he’s trying to tell himself to calm down, but he can’t.

the fault completely lies with you — of course it does, everything you do agitates every cell in his body. the reason is simple, and he hates that he doesn’t want to admit it — he’s so undeniably attracted to you that it pisses him off. he takes in your appearance for the twelfth time that night, admiring the softness of your cheeks, the fullness of your lips, the way you seem entirely too animated as you laugh at someone’s lame joke — and yes, he can tell it’s not funny from how your laughter dies down after a few seconds.

if he had better sense, he’d stop looking at you, but he can’t now; he might blame the sake for this later.

the intensity behind his gaze is enough to bring an inextinguishable heat along your skin. it’s only unpleasant because it travels down to your lower abdomen and brings about an agonizing ache between your thighs. at first, you do the sensible thing and ignore it; but the longer he stares, the more you want to look over, until finally you can’t take it anymore.

“i’ll be back,” you mumble to the other guests, although you doubt they hear you with how rowdy everyone is being; the noise isn’t unwelcomed, the distraction serves to mask your footsteps when you scurry from the living room to the back corridor, turning corner after corner until you find the bathroom.

a coward — that’s what you are.

you barricade yourself in there without thinking, heart pounding loud enough to disorient you. after several long minutes, you splash water on your face and take a few deep breaths.

“i can’t believe i ran away,” your voice is so soft you barely hear the words — almost as if you’re still in disbelief over the entire situation. there’s something off about renji tonight; the tension between you was more palatable and tangible than normal.

even though you feigned nonchalance as best as you could, there were so many moments where you couldn’t help but watch him too. pitiful. absolutely pitiful. there’s no excuse for it, and yet you struggle to find one anyway.

as you look at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you try to convince yourself to head back out there. sooner or later, people will realize that you’ve gone missing — and rangiku is nosy enough and like a bloodhound when she’s drunk. your time is incredibly limited now.

there’s no reason for you to continue to avoid the inevitable, so you sigh and give yourself a small pep talk before heading back outside.

TRUTH X OR X …

renji’s mood doesn’t improve at all; in fact, it worsens the moment ichigo sits right next to him. he’s not even sure why this sets him off, but even closing his eyes and counting backwards does nothing to keep him calm.

with slight difficulty, renji grits out, “what do you want?”

undeterred, ichigo stares at renji pointedly, voice steady as he says, “you could go after her, you know.”

again, renji sucks his teeth loudly, arms folded against his chest, right leg bouncing slightly as he taps his foot on the floor. punching ichigo would be pointless, and then rukia would get involved and he doesn’t have time to deal with the fallout from that so he keeps his hands to himself.

besides, his anger is obviously misdirected right now. he knows — he knows —but he doesn’t care, so he doesn’t mince his words when he responds with, “go after who?” through his peripheral, he can see ichigo’s patience has also reached its limit.

“you’re not that stupid, so stop acting like it.”

normally, renji would take the opportunity to mes s around and argue back and forth, but he might actually fight his friend if he doesn’t walk away. so, he does; abrupt and without looking back, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.

maybe he just needs to change his approach with you, maybe talking things out would work in his favor; or maybe he needs to fuck you hard enough to purge you from his mind.

he lies to himself when he considers the first option, because it’s the second option that drives him to walk a little faster, head full of impossible thoughts as he wonders just how far you’d let him go.

when renji finally finds you, you’re in the middle of rebuffing the advances of an unfamiliar guest — they’re drunk, handsy, and keep oscillating between giving you cheesy pick-up lines and berating you for rejecting them. but you stand firm, and your voice is relatively loud when you tell them, “for the last fucking time, go away.”

under normal circumstances, renji would let you handle this yourself; he has no desire to play prince charming or be a knight in shining armor. you’re more than capable, and he’s seen the way you fight and argue to defend yourself — but, it’s when they place a wandering hand on your hip that he loses sight of all of that.

a brief moment passes, where your blood boils as you contemplate how best to kick their ass, but you never get the chance. a rather large shadow hovers over you both, but you already know who it is without having to look properly.

renji is a force to be reckoned with on a good day, but he’s at his fucking limit right now.

he doesn’t ask, doesn’t give any options for retreat, doesn’t say a word when he yanks them off with a brute strength that surprises even you.

now, can he really be blamed for throwing them into the neighboring wall hard enough to make a noticeable hole? and is it really his fault that the drunk can hardly walk as they clutch their broken arm while murmuring something unintelligible, something that renji takes as a sign of them wanting a repeat demonstration?

consequences be damned, he gives the drunk a lethal look before they scramble away in fear.

“loser,” he says loud enough for them to hear, but they don’t double back or even try to go toe-to-toe with the hot-headed lieutenant. you watch, half-amused and half-impressed with the unnecessary machismo, but still, you know better than to chastise him right now, especially when your heart sputters out of control from his proximity.

“…thanks,” you say, a faint flush on your cheeks, voice soft, head fuzzy when you realize that renji — aka mr. “i’ll fight you on everything any day of the week unprovoked for no reason other than to drive you crazy” — saved you. unprompted at that.

you make the mistake of looking up at him, your nerves prompting you to take a small step back when you realize that the usual hostility that renji reserves for you specifically is nowhere to be found. in its place is something more unreadable — or, rather, you don’t want to read into it for fear of being wrong.

renji steps closer, which makes you back up again until your back hits the wall and you’re no longer able to escape.

“we need to talk,” he says suddenly, but you shake your head, non-verbally objecting to the idea, curls bouncing wildly with your exaggerated movements. since he knows he’s pressed for time, he grabs your face with his large hand and stops you from moving. “that wasn’t a request.”

swallowing rusty nails would be better than dealing with your conflicting feelings over renji right now, because he’s much too close to you and now you’re forgetting why it is you hate him in the first place. ironically, he’s in the exact same position. so far, he’s acted on impulse over you more times than he can count tonight, but he supposes that’s to be expected — you are a wildcard, after all.

“what if i don’t want to.” your response is clumsy, the words tumbling one after the other. “what if i want you to leave?” you don’t actually mean that, but you throw it at him anyway, to see if maybe this was all a fluke, and maybe, just maybe he’ll remember himself and you both can go back to fighting like usual.

he considers your question, goes so far as to release your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. your sharp inhale and parted lips tell him all he needs to know.

with a slightly raised brow, he asks, “well, do you?”

because if you do, he’ll walk away right now. but he knows what your answer will be, he just has to drag it out of you. he squeezes your neck to remind you to hurry it up, and before you can answer him properly, he places his leg in between yours, pressing close enough that you roll your hips forward while whimpering softly.

he really didn’t think any of this through, but luckily the adrenaline from it all won’t wear off anytime soon, so he’ll improvise along the way. he spent most of the night dealing with a semi-hard cock that wouldn’t listen to reason no matter how many times he tried to stop thinking about you. but now? all of that restraint goes out of the window, and before he can question it, he kisses you.

you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life — some good, most were mediocre and uninspiring — but renji actually takes your breath away. everything about him commands all your attention; from the way his lips move against yours greedily, leaving behind burning kisses that make your nipples harden underneath your clothes — to the way he thrusts his tongue in between your plush lips, licking inside of your mouth hotly, igniting an inextinguishable flame deep inside of you.

he grabs your hip with his free hand, squeezing hard, fingers digging firmly. all the irritation from earlier dissipates completely, leaving you feeling lightheaded and needy; you grind against him recklessly, arousal dampening the front of your panties, clit sensitive as it rubs against the delicate fabric. his cock presses against you — thick, long, and hard — and you wonder if this is why he’s so angry with you all the time.

was it always that simple?

if you asked the question aloud, he wouldn’t know what to tell you — it’s a combination of things, but mostly he’s an idiot; he knows that now, but likewise you’re an idiot too. you just don’t realize it yet.

it’s renji who pulls away first, lightly panting, breath warm against your lips as he releases his hold on your neck. he doesn’t know where he finds the strength to string together a coherent statement, but his voice is low and husky when he speaks. “answer my question.”

you blink at him, completely in a daze, lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “wh-what?” you don’t remember what he asked you, and you don’t care.

“do you want me to leave?”

for some reason, you completely forgot that you told him that. you rub your lips together and run your hands along his chest. “no.” the answer comes out automatically, without hesitation, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

“good.”

SAY X IT X LOUDER

he picks you up with ease, almost as if you weigh nothing; a small squeal spills out of you as you wrap your legs around his waist, and renji gives you a sly smile — one laced with mischief and an unspoken promise of what’s to come.

you’re back in the bathroom again, this time sitting on the counter with renji standing in between your legs. his hands coast along your curvy hips and down your thighs. he’s touching you but he’s not touching you and it’s driving you crazy.

with hurried, eager hands you both undress, and for the umpteenth time you internally curse this style of uniform; still, it doesn’t take too long before his hands are on you again, calloused palms rough and warm against your skin. he places a kiss on your jaw, then another on your neck right underneath your earlobe; each kiss he leaves behind distorts your common sense, makes you feel irrational and impatient. your hands are soft and well-practiced, stroking his stiff cock as his hips jerk forward from your touch.

he can’t remember the last time someone had him this worked up, which pisses him off a little; because that means him fucking you once won’t settle things. at that thought, renji bites your neck and your startled yelp quickly morphs into a moan when he runs his tongue along the mark. he dips his hand in between your thighs, rubbing his thick fingers against your slit. a loud banging on the door has you looking over, and you can’t remember if he bothered to lock it once you both were inside.

your attention nearly falters, but when he pinches your clit you buck your hips, a shiver shooting down your spine at the slight pain.

“eyes on me,” is all he says, seemingly annoyed that you would dare to focus your attention elsewhere, “always keep them on me.” what he means by that, he doesn’t know, but you take the command at face value and nod while swallowing. he slides a finger inside of your wet pussy, and while you initially wanted to keep quiet to avoid suspicion and to prevent anyone from intruding, but you can’t now.

“renji,” you breathe, fingers trembling as you hold onto the counter for support, he thrusts his finger in and out, quick and hard, before inserting another. you clench around him, hips rocking forward as he fingerfucks you and grinds his palm against your clit. you close your eyes and moan louder than you mean to, chest heaving, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. he scissors his fingers inside of you, but quickly removes them without prompting.

“fuck!” you open your eyes again and stare at him in disbelief. “why did you stop?”

he laughs darkly and grabs your face roughly, fingers pressing into your soft skin without remorse. “what did i tell you earlier?” everything about this situation is laughable. he gave you very specific instructions, ones he thought were easy enough for you to follow. for some reason your movements are sluggish, mind in a haze as you scramble to remember but nothing comes to mind.

as you open and close your mouth, looking every bit as adorable as you are alluring, he decides to show you a bit of kindness.

“get down.” his command comes swift, his patience practically nonexistent; precum glides down the head of his thick cock, but he ignores it for the sake of teaching you a lesson. you don’t bother waiting for him to repeat himself and slide off the counter. “turn around.”

like a doll, your movements are dictated by renji with simple, short statements. nothing about that phases you, though; it’s all very exciting, so when you do turn to face the counter, you bend forward and lean over the counter. renji admires the roundness of your ass and slaps it hard.

again, you find yourself moaning loudly, without shame and not caring about the volume of your voice. surely the others won’t pay attention, as they’re still very drunk and are entertaining themselves with more games. another slap on your ass has you grabbing onto the counter again, legs shaking, arousal dripping between your thighs in anticipation. if renji doesn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

he knows he’s taking too damn long, but it’s much more interesting making you work for him. he rubs the tip of his cock against your puffy pussy, gliding it in between your slick folds, your moans sweetly wrapping around him once he pushes inside of you slowly. someone bangs on the door again, making you look over, anxiety quickly filling your head with unnecessary what ifs that almost command your full attention.

with narrowed eyes, renji grabs onto your hair, curls soft in his hand, and yanks hard.

“the fuck did i say earlier?”

goosebumps travel down your arms as a different kind of awareness and clarity surges through you quickly. you blink at your reflection, watching the way he towers over you, his muscles hard and defined — sculpted from years of training and dedication to honing his skills. it hits you then, what he’s really asking you.

“to,” you swallow thickly, throat dry, “to keep my eyes on you always.” you say it all in one breath, gasping when he runs his tongue along the curve of your ear. you don’t know how much more you can take, but you know if you complain, if you say anything he might stop altogether.

renji’s smile is wicked and dark, his lips graze your earlobe, voice deep and gravelly, a huskiness that wasn’t there before as he thrusts into you, burying his cock deeply.

“good girl.”

he refrains from kissing you properly, instead pushing you down so you can lean over the counter again. your mind melts from it all, and you’re panting, heart beating faster and faster as he firmly places a hand on your back.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” he remarks thoughtfully, although you note the slight strain in his voice; as much as he tries to act like he’s not that affected by you, you know that isn’t the case at all. your pussy is every bit as enticing and heavenly as he knew it would be; he pulls back and slams his cock into you all over again, filling you completely. you try to keep watching him in the mirror, but he’s fucking you like he’s angry with himself for being so attracted to you.

and he absolutely is. it’s a truth he fought against for so long that he’s given up on denying it now. your moans drip onto his skin like caramel, sticky and sweet, and when you say his name like that — your voice going higher and higher from the ferocity of his thrusts — he nearly loses his mind.

“fuck,” he says out loud, grabbing your hip roughly, your wetness coating the length of his cock, “you’re taking me so well.” he knows you can’t really answer him, and he likes that; you’re beyond caring at this point, instead focusing on the way his cock reaches a spot that has you bouncing your ass and fucking yourself against him. normally, renji would play around and edge you in retaliation, but he’s too far gone, completely under the spell of your pretty pussy, with how soft and tight it is.

you’re not sure how you got here, but you’re drowning in ecstasy right now. he instructs you to lift your leg to rest it onto the counter, pulling out momentarily to help you position and spread your legs further apart. he plunges his cock into you again, keeping his hips closer as he gives you shorter, frenzied thrusts. your head spins and you can’t think straight, but that doesn’t matter. all you care about is the way renji is angling his hips, rolling them forward to pound into your cunt roughly, balls heavy as they smack against your ass.

“oh, oh, oh.” you swear your life flashes before your eyes, because something possesses him, his strokes shorter, brutal, and frenetic. drool slides down your chin, your voice hoarse from how loud you’ve been. you’re sure someone’s heard you by now, but you don’t care.

how can you?

with renji fucking you like this — merciless and possessive, fingers brusing your skin, almost as if he wants to make sure you’ll be as obsessed with him as he is with you — your common decency, your morals, everything that makes you you, they don’t exist.

all that’s left is this burning desire to let him have his way with you for as long as he wants. thankfully, you have enough sense to not admit that out loud; who knows what kind smugness you’ll be subjected to if renji knew.

but you’re pretty damn transparent about it, he can tell from the way you can’t stop clenching your pussy around his cock, from how your pussy makes loud, lewd squelching noises — ones that he’ll commit to memory so he can revisit them from time to time.

tears roll down your cheeks and you sob as you hold onto the counter as best as you can, back arching, hips rocking against him with a neediness you never knew you had. there’s a tightening in your stomach and your pulse skyrocketing as a flash of white practically blinds you. he watches the way your pussy keeps swallowing the length of his cock, and you finally fall over the edge, orgasm suffocating you with its intensity.

your cunt flutters around him, gummy walls soft and hypnotic, an addiction he never thought he’d have; breathing heavily, his muscles tense and renji groans something that suspiciously sounds like your name. the thought alone makes your face burn and warms your chest in a way that doesn’t make sense. and when he finally cums, he humps into you, cum thick and hot as it spills inside your pussy, mixing with your slick wetness. a completely messy affair, but he doesn’t care — it’s not his bathroom, after all.

legs trembling, you’re limp and incapable of movement, whimpering and whining until he finally pulls out of you.

renji runs a hand down his face, feeling spent but more than satisfied. suddenly his shoulders aren’t so tight and tense, and his mood is much more tolerable. you do your best to stand but almost fall — your legs are useless, turned to jelly because of the man behind you. he chuckles at that, then clears his throat once he realizes. he fully expected there to be a moment of awkwardness after, but it never comes. when he sees your face — lips bruised and swollen, face flushed, eyes glazed with a faraway look — he feels compelled to kiss you again. so, he does. it’s not sweet, nor is it tender, but it still makes your heart swell all the same. he holds you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, doing your best to keep standing, even though your legs are ready to give out.

you don’t know exactly what any of this means, but you do understand him a bit better now. he’s terrible with expressing himself, but you kind of like that about him; and maybe this isn’t the healthiest relationship, but life was uncertain and you’d take renji fucking you like it’s his last day alive over him openly hating you any day.

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aprillikesthings · 7 months

Text

It's Fridayyyyy

TIME FOR MORE SHE-RA

s1 ep11 Promise

oh shit I remember this one it's a heartbreaker

(good stuff for my fic though)

Hey remember when I swore up and down I wasn't going to liveblog my entire rewatch? Good times.

Part of me is like: I would get through these so much faster if I didn't insist on screenshotting them and commenting and making jokes

But the rest of me knows damn well I probably just wouldn't bother watching them?? This way feels a bit like watching it *with* someone, which I always prefer to watching things alone.

Also tbh if I did just marathon them while knitting or something I wouldn't remember anything!! Which would defeat the point!! So here I am.

If you're new to these posts: I am doing a rewatch of She-Ra with the specific purpose of taking notes for a fic I'm working on--but because this is me we're talking about, I also post a ton of screenshots with the purposes of commentary, squeeing at specific scenes, and making jokes. Because it's a rewatch, I don't comment on every plot point and I often mention things that happen later in the show--in other words, these might be confusing if you haven't seen the show yet.

EDIT: yeah this was another one where I hit the image limit, will have to reblog to finish it

I know people have figured out the "alphabet" of the first ones what does this sayyyyy

I mean wouldn't they all be portable in some sense? The one that recharges Glimmer could be taken down and moved somewhere, couldn't it? We know the one from Scorpia's kingdom was taken and moved to the Fright Zone, for instance.

"Query not recognized."

Adora's frustration here is exactly why I don't use Siri, like, ever.

Light Hope reminds me of a specific model? actress? from the 1980's but I can never remember who and it drives me CRAZY

*does some googling*

GRACE JONES I AM THINKING OF GRACE JONES

TELL ME I'M WRONG

Grace Jones also did disco music, TIL

back to cartoon lesbians

yeah that couldn't have been important for anything no worries it's fine

you didn't notice anyone else there until She-Ra destroyed something lolol

ehehehehehehh

Look I know it's the point of the whole show but I grin every time they're supposed to be on opposite sides and one saves the other's life (Does Adora do it more than Catra does? surely someone kept count)

don't mind me

little shit

🎵BUT YOU DID IT ANYWAYYYYYY🎶

"how many times are you going to make that joke" well how many times does Catra say it lolll

"where are your friends?" "you mean the ones you KIDNAPPED and CURSED???" "uh, yeah?"

lol

I just like the art style here

Okay so I can't screenshot audio, but that little moment of Catra saying "Adora? Adora???" where the tone goes from "hey look at this" to that almost-panic and then she turns around and it's kid!Catra is just so, SO well done.

ugh these scenes are such a punch in the gut

I'm not getting emotional at cartoon characters remembering the happier bits of their shitty traumatic childhood together, YOU ARE

;_;

man this shot is just good, ugh, you can see so much of their characters on display: Adora's self-righteousness vs Catra's sullen defensiveness

anyway they should've made out

lol

they're 1:1 so far this episode

(even though this cliff probably isn't even real)

"Did you really think I'd just let Shadow Weaver erase your memory like that?" oh so she DID know

Adora: "I don't know, probably" I mean I thought she would

I've been CALLED OUT lol

Adora: "Can you blame me? Catra: "*scoffs* Not really"

😏

John Cena.gif

BABIES (okay a little older like maybe 13)

(still babies)

I mean, true

I'VE HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT FOR THIS POST lol I knew I would

gonna post and reblog

#april rewatches spop #promise

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str8aura-no-not-that-one · 4 months

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Str8aura,

I come to you in the hour of need!

Having recently reread your amazing ‘Death and Taxes’, I was again reminded of my inadequacy in this biz. I have no idea how you managed to craft such an immersive story and great characters in 50k words AND in less than a year, but you did. It would absolutely be a hit if published. I cannot believe I identified with a monster-town. My silly ass is in a constant state of schism between admiration and jealousy over every aspect of your writing, and I don’t appreciate this feeling at all! I know they say that we shouldn’t focus on comparing ourselves to others, but I disagree – I believe comparing your own stuff to better stuff is the only way to improve. And I’d love to improve. Could do without the crippling jealousy, though :P

While I still think my take on this world is worth seeing through to the end, I struggle with many elements. I’ve watched videos and read manuals about writing. Valuable material, but not quite enough. So here’s my question – would YOU mind giving me some tips? For starters maybe something about keeping yourself in line when scheduling, because that’s just an abysmal bloody disaster in my case. Also – structuring. You created a fantastic balance between dialogue, description, plot and character development, I feel my text often reads like an article (which makes sense ‘cause I worked with those). I’ve trimmed some fat already, but maybe I could keep going – especially with the bullshit magic-science stuff and overwriting the feels/thoughts. I liked writing it, but now I realize it can be exhausting to follow. Looong stretches when nothing really happens and people just feel sorry for themselves. But idk, that’s not always a big problem.

This brings me to the characters in general. I feel I did alright, but I have doubts. Relationships have never been my strong suit, which is… less than ideal for this hobby. In real life, I’m decidedly more of an observer than a participant, and this shows here and there. Perhaps it’s better that I didn’t use many perspectives because I’d struggle even more. In your story everyone knew about the curse, in mine only a few people do, and that happens over time. The ‘normal’ problems of the leads eventually converge with the paranormal one, so I thought it was best to not dedicate too much attention to the stuff that has little to do with either. But what do you think?

No matter what, I’m absolutely NOT giving up on the pretentious lingo, however :P We museum people are pretentious by trade! If you ever find some free time, could you perhaps check out a fragment of my fic and see what doesn’t work? It’s ‘Hateful’ on AO3. Don’t feel obligated to by any means, I know that just reading this sentence raised your blood pressure lol

And, last but not least, please tell me how to kill the envy demon. I HOPE it’s had its teeth in you at least once in the past, goddamnit XD Otherwise I’m a lost cause

Sorry for accosting you like this, but it’s been on my mind for too long. Release me from this prison!!!

Congrats again I hope you do end up publishing something one day

Hello, Plague. Waking up and finding this in my inbox told me that today might be alright. Thank you again for your excellent fanart.

Jealousy

The man who I can claim most truthfully is my most beloved friend is a writer like me. In fact, without their influence, I would not be a writer at all; They have encouraged me, proofread for me, criticized me, and guided me every step of the journey that has led me to who I am today. I would take a bullet for this man, as many times over as my body would allow.

He also holds popularity I have never achieved. He is the darling of the featured box, earns hundreds of likes and comments where I scrounge up tens, and has attracted the eyes and praise of people whom I am only a number to. When I look upon him, this man whom I love as if he were my own blood, I understand Salieri. I understand Brutus. I understand what it is like to love someone and yet feel a deep, shameful, green-eyed rage towards them. I firmly believe we do the same amount of work, try just as hard as each other, and yet he is beloved and I am not.

So it goes. Jealousy is the worst beast we as mortals can face, and we will be the flesh it feeds on if we allow it to. I am dreadfully sorry you feel this way about me, and honored at the same time, but I must remind you what on the internet it is easy to forget; I, as well as my beloved friend, am just a human. Nothing more, nothing less. It is fruitless to feel jealous, when that same energy could be devoted towards outmatching me. You think I'm good? Be better.

You cannot kill the envy demon. Don't try. You must learn to live with it, to accept it as you accept every other piece of yourself. And when you do that, you domesticate it.

Scheduling:

The tip I have learned, dedicated to heart, and use whenever I can is simple; Write up to a key stopping point, the point at which you feel will be make or break for the reader to decide whether or not they wish to stick with it. Publish that much, serialized, in small scheduled chunks.

You now have a fire lit under your ass. The only thing that outmatches my desire to procrastinate is my desire to please others, and thus I have no choice but to continue my schedule, with only a little leeway and wiggle room allotted by the aforementioned stored up slots so I do not blow my head off. I did not plan out Death and Taxes beforehand, save a vague idea of the premise; it was not even intended to have an overarching story, it was only meant to be an anthology. But by working steadily, making lots of mistakes, and deciding what felt right, I ended up after a year of work with the product you love.

Chapters, pages in a comic, it is all the same; If you want to work, find what is stronger than your procrastination drive, and turn it against yourself.

Structuring:

Every one of my stories begins life as a string of dialogue. No action tags, no [X] said, just dialogue like a script. Talking is, oftentimes, the core of any story. It is also what I, personally, am good at. I stimulate conversations with myself or my dog, try to respond as realistically as I can given what I know about the character, and then fill in the blanks with text afterwards. Dog optional.

This is not ideal for everyone, I understand. My greatest suggestion I can offer is to figure out what you are good at, and do that first. Even if your story looks unformatted, or unfinished, you must keep yourself working. Skip scenes if you wish. Write the parts you want to write, and then get the rest later. But at the end, and this is the most important part, it must not look like you did that. It must look like you are a genius who effortlessly spat out an entire sequence in one afternoon, flowing like a dream, never contradicting itself. A writer is a liar, first and foremost. This is why they are so often thought of as geniuses, when in reality they spent seven hours trying to figure out how to describe a plant.

Pretentious Lingo:

Verily, I agree.

Hateful has been in my Ao3 library for some time. I apologize for my slowness.

As a final note, I must remind you as an author that you must keep reading. Length, medium, and popularity of the work matter not. Read, read, read, and the more you examine the style of other authors, the more you will decide what you want your own to look like. I set out writing every story of mine with an idea of what story I want it to resemble; 'I want this to feel like Kraven's Last Hunt', 'I want this to feel like The Blue Fox', 'I want this to feel like The Odyssey'; whatever. As a storyteller, you must always honor other storytellers. Never forget that.

Also, get a proofreader. Hope this helped. Tell your friends to give me money.

#my posts #longpost #death and taxes #hateful

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thelordofgifs · 1 year

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luthien, thorondor, literally everyone: you only ever had to ask ;)

maglor, maedhros, fingon: this sign can't stop me because i can't read

this chapter was so!!! you did amazing job with it <3 slayed with the dialogues too by the way i loved every bit of it. i love how luthien and hurin are vibing and morwen and bere back in hithlum have at least 10 important conversations beforehand. but i'm also glad beren is making friends turin!! i sure hope his leithian swag nullifies the turin curse (though morgoth might not yet curse hurin and his bloodline so we're yet to see.)

Luthien tries SO hard to get through to maglor.

luthien: you know you can just ask

maglor: yeah but crimes are my main source of inspiration :(((

I love their friendship though!! I loved the bit where Luthien tells him to create something greater than Noldolante, that's such a nice touch. And I hope it will be that, since you seem to be going we the canon divergence route.

hurin... fingon... turgon... aaaaauaueueueueeu no words only unholy howling that situation is so sad :( maedhros is not making the situation better but he's also trying his best... hhhhngh

MAEDHROS AND MAGLOR IN THIS CHAPTER beloved they are precious they are everything they are!!! so!!! aahh!!!! explodes

and maedhros... baby... this fic is Not giving him an easy time... :( i hope it gets better at least for a bit

Also I'm glad Fingon was the only one to ask and even then it was in a "FINE i'll DO IT but it's STUPID ANYWAYS" way. i'm sure that wob't backfire in any way shape or form. (thorondor slayed btw. king behavior)

anyways i'm very excited to see where you'll go from this!!! sorry about all the betrayals i still love you

aaahhhh thank you beloved so glad you enjoyed ❤️❤️ I’m very fond of this part but also scared that it isn’t working as it’s supposed to so this was v reassuring!

You only ever had to ask is one of THE most important lines anyone has ever said in tfs, although we haven’t been able to engage with it during the second arc because we had a detour to do Fëanorian Melodrama. But when I changed Huan’s last words – and had him say them to Celegorm instead of Beren – I knew they had to be Important and Significant. Notably, what he said was actually Son of Fëanor, you only ever had to ask. That was not a line addressed solely to Celegorm! It is also significant that both Lúthien and Thorondor expect Maglor and Fingon respectively to know what Huan said, and they’re both a little surprised that they don’t. Because the person who heard those words hasn’t really absorbed them, or related them to anyone. (Sorry long ramble on this but there was a lot of subtle behind-the-scenes stuff going on here and I was DYING for someone to ask about it.)

Anyway – don’t be too hard on Fingon or Maglor! If tfs is about the tricky path to salvation (and it is), then Fingon is not doing too badly. As Thorondor reminds him, he has asked for mercy before, and received it – and he does manage to do it again now, however grudgingly. As for Maglor, Lúthien’s advice was pretty cryptic, and he hasn’t yet had the opportunity to ask for anything. Word is out on whether he’ll be able to do it when his chance comes!

I’m so glad you liked all the little scenes anyway ❤️❤️ we will have more Beren and Morwen next part, it’s just that this one was very firmly set in Barad Eithel and I didn’t want to drift around too much. You cannot IMAGINE how excited I was to have my precious Maglor and Lúthien friendship back in play they are Important to me. And M&M my darling precious babies!!!! They didn’t have a scene in part 21 and I was like. this is unacceptable to me personally. Anyway look how traumatised and codependent they are I am obsessed with them.

thank you for the ask beloved!! I have not forgiven you for the backstabbing but this was a very nice ask so I might some day. and I still love you too 💕💕

#asks #that-angry-noldo #the fairest stars

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skeptiquewrites · 2 years

Text

Microfic Process: Pt 2

In part one I talked a little bit of how I write microfics, but here's an example with the latest prompt, by request of @tackytigerfic. This is how this process plays out in all the detail you could want about how I write them. Possibly too much detail, you decide.

So the latest prompt is ‘found.’ The first thing that comes to mind is lost & found, but that’s not really much to write anything about. I told a personal story earlier this week about how my elementary school made you wear a cardigan out of the lost and found when you forgot yours, which I did frequently as a very absentminded kid, but the idea of writing about Harry getting more hand-me-downs than he’s already had in his life makes me sad. Idea tossed.

I’ve been listening to a lot of Arctic Monkeys since I now have AM on vinyl, and there’s the lyric, “I’m not sure if I should/show you what I found” in Fireside. It’s about a past relationship, and the places you have/had together. A better concept than lost and found.

Some structure stuff then, which is that I like to vary formats and POVs a little. I’ve done dialogue only as my last so that’s out, and I don’t feel like doing a text fic. I lean third person and Harry POV, so let’s go with first person and Draco.

“I had ended the argument by saying it was my house.” Eugh. Don’t love that. Starting over.

“I told him to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him. I didn't know then that he would stay." I like the first sentence but not the second.

“I told him to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him. Little did I know, he could be gone and here at the same time. It's the worst kind of curse.” Eh, not sold on the last sentence. Deleting. But I like the idea it’s one of those curses they have cast on each other. What’s the lyric from Chicago Is So Two Years Ago by Fall Out Boy? Right, “The only thing you’ll get is this curse on your lips/I hope they taste of me forever.”

I’ve also read the word lintel recently and after Googling I know I haven’t mistaken it for another word. Maybe. I’m thinking of the way my mom when I moved into any house after leaving hers, she came over and burned incense and blessed every doorway. I thought it was silly, but lately I find it comforting.

“I told him to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him. Little did I know, he could be gone and here at the same time. Every doorway and window is like Harry kissed his fingertips against them” 38 words. Don’t like the word window, it disrupts the flow. Second sentence is wobbly but may well proceed.

Okay. “I told him to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him. Little did I know, he could be gone and here at the same time. It feels like Harry kissed his fingertips and pressed them against every lintel.” 41 words. Obviously this is a ghost metaphor, but if I use the word ghost it’s too obvious. Harry’s still alive just not with him. No MCD today, friends, spooky season or not.

Also Harry’s name is mentioned too late for my liking and why did I add a comma? Going to change the spacing. I think arguments themselves are not very interesting (see: Simple Things), but I should hint at something.

“I told Harry to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him.

Little did I know he could be gone and here at the same time. It feels like Harry kissed his fingertips and pressed them against every lintel.

But if Harry can't promise to come home safe, it's for the best.”

54 words. Eh, I don’t really love Harry is in danger as a reason for them to have had a real barn burner of an argument.

“I told Harry to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him.

Little did I know he could be gone and here at the same time. It feels like Harry kissed his fingertips and pressed them against every lintel.

It's for the best, I remind myself, if he wouldn't say it back.”

54 words. I like this better but that last sentence is a bit unwieldy. Also I think ‘it’ is a bit too vague. It’s about I love you, but I don’t really think that’s the argument either. But it is context so:

“I told Harry to get out, that I couldn't stand the sight of him.

Little did I know he could be gone and here at the same time. It feels like Harry kissed his fingertips and pressed them against every lintel.

Then again, he'd never said he loved me back.”

50 words. And I’ll read them out loud. Sounds good. I even avoided lingering, my favourite word and starting a sentence with but. Checking the tenses again. Usually tagging gives enough context, and I’ll note it’s just a break up. I do like Lost and Found as a title even if I didn’t use it to write this. I could use What I Found. Actually, I like that better. Will credit. And that’s one microfic done.

Here it is.

#about writing #microfic process

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masterofmunson · 3 years

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look after you (1)

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, grief, angst, major pining

Word Count: 6k+

Author’s Note: Here she is!! I’m really excited to see what you guys think! This is my first Bucky fic in AGES! I decided to make this into a mini series since this fic is so long haha. Please let me know what you think. Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

You hadn’t seen Sam or Bucky in several weeks. You were still adjusting to life post-blip. It had been a long five years for you and just seconds for them. You were no longer the bright-eyed and bushy tailed recruit. You’d grown into your position amongst the established and experienced Avengers. Now, it meant nothing.

Tony’s gone. Steve’s dead, Natasha too. The Avengers had officially disbanded. You felt lost and confused, still blinded by your grief over losing them. You had nowhere to go, so you just floated from place to place as needed.

You were laying low and a shell of the person you once were. You had no one to look towards anymore. Bucky went his separate ways and got some sort of footing in New York City with the pardon he was given by the government since his return to the states. You checked in every now and then with him, but you didn’t want to slow down his progress so you distanced yourself from him.

You know he feels some sort of responsibility towards you. Steve did too, and you suppose now that he’s gone, Bucky feels the need to take his place. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer the naive 23 year old he met in Berlin all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that there was something lingering between the two of you before he turned to ash. You’re a grown woman now and war and politics has hardened your soul.

He needs to move on from you. The version he has of you in his head is gone, dead. He wants a fresh start, and you can’t give it to him.

Sam checks in with you once in a while. He asks you how you’re doing and you respond the same each time. “Same shit, different day,” you laughed lightly.

He knows better than to ask you to join him on his missions with the military. You’re not in the right headspace to return to the field, least of all if it meant that you were representing the US government wherever the fight was.

Now that John Walker has the shield and has been branded the new Captain America, it gives you all the more reason to stay away. If he had so much as just breathed in your direction, you’d kill him and rip the shield from his grasp and return it to Sam.

You ignored all emails and phone calls that had to do with John Walker. He wanted your blessing on live television, as if that meant anything. Yes, you were close with Steve, but you’re not an original Avenger. You just caught his eye during training one day and he took you under his wing. John Walker just wanted to create a bridge between the two of you since Sam and Bucky were obviously out of the question.

You were the first person Sam called when he told you he was giving up the shield. You didn’t ask why. You knew he had his reasons and you respected him to accept that whatever the reasons were, they were good enough.

So, when Sam called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone without a second thought. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and fumble for the light on the nightstand beside you.

“Sam? You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” you asked, yawning into your phone.

Sam curses in your ear and apologizes quietly. “Sorry. You would think with all this traveling, I’d remember time zones are a thing,” he laughed softly.

“What is it, Sam?”

“We’re in a bit of a tight spot. We could use your help.”

Your brows pinch together. “Who’s we, Sam?”

“Me and Barnes.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. How the hell did Sam manage to rope Bucky into whatever he’s doing? The last you heard, Bucky wasn’t allowed to go on government missions until his therapist thought he made enough progress to do so. You know he’s nowhere near the progress he wants to be, so how is he with Sam?

“Jesus, Sam. You know he’s not in the right headspace to go on missions!” There’s a heavy pause between the two of you before you relent. “Where am I meeting you?”

“Latvia. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

You hang up quickly and hurry out of bed. After so many years of getting up at odd hours for emergency missions and the like, you’re not surprised that Sam asked you to meet him in the middle of the night. You grab your duffle bag and stuff all your belongings back inside. You travel lightly, and now it definitely seemed to work out in your favor.

You’ve spent the last couple of weeks in a small town just outside of Helena, Montana. It’s nice and quiet and you’ve really taken the time to reflect on your life since things started going back to normal post-blip. The locals are nice and hospitable, and no one asks you about Steve, Tony, or what you thought of John Walker. You hope it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know who you were. You certainly hoped that was the case. You’ve kept your head down and tried your best to blend in.

You go hiking quite frequently and take drives through the mountains. It’s nice and relaxing, a far cry from what you’re used to. You’ll definitely miss it, and you have second thoughts about meeting up with Sam, but you push them away. Steve abandoned you both, and you wouldn’t do that to him.

It takes you several hours to get to the closest international airport and by the time you arrive, the sun begins to rise in the distance. You hurry through the airport security and send Sam a quick update that you’re about to board your flight before you settle in your seat and fall back asleep.

....

You sleep through the entire flight. You blame it on your ability to sleep anywhere due to the number of missions you have under your belt. You’re wide awake when the plane lands and you’re quick to pull out your phone and send a message to Sam that you’ve made it safe and sound to Latvia.

Your legs are stiff and sore when you stand up for the first time when it’s time to leave. You pull your duffle bag from the overhead compartment and slowly make your way to the front. It takes you nearly an hour to get through customs and now you’re just anxiously waiting to see Sam.

When you see him waiting for you at the baggage claim area, you grin as your eyes meet. You hurry over to him and drop your duffle bag to the floor as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s warm and tight and it’s exactly what you need. Sam pulls away first and reaches for your bag, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walk out of the airport to his car.

You stop walking when you notice two figures near a very fancy yellow car as you and Sam near them. Sam keeps walking and you take slow, tentative steps. You know one of the figures has to be Bucky, but Sam never mentioned a third person.

“Sam, I thought you said that it was just you and Bucky,” you said cautiously.

Sam stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. It makes your heart race and you swallow the lump in your throat as they begin to come into focus as they near the two of you. “Y/n, before you get angry, I just need you to know that this wasn’t my idea. Believe me when I tell you that he is the last person we would ask for help,” Sam replied as his eyes went from you to the two people approaching.

“Who is he?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Ah! Y/n, good to know that your flight went rather smoothly. It is good to see you again.”

No. There’s no way. You must be dreaming. Hemlut Zemo is not standing right in front of you. He is in prison. He is behind bars for the crimes he committed. The two men that you're closest to wouldn’t jailbreak someone as atrocious as Zemo. There has to be an explanation. It doesn’t make sense.

“What the fuck is Zemo doing out of prison?!” you hissed, looking between Bucky and Sam, demanding an explanation.

“Y/n, honey, I can explain, just please get in the car,” Bucky pleaded, reaching out to touch your hand.

You glare at him and take a step back. “Are you out of your mind, Bucky? You break him out of jail because you need him, is that it? Do you remember what he did to you, because I certainly do!”

Bucky frowns and lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He looks over at Sam. “Did you fill her in at all?”

“No!” you shouted. “I can speak for myself, James! Someone better start talking and tell me what the hell is going on!”

“We don’t really have time for this right now,” Zemo interrupts, “we really must be going. I’m sure Sam and James can fill you in in the car.”

You glare at the Sokovian terrorist and snap at him. “Shut your mouth, Zemo.”

He raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. Bucky towers over you and this time you let him take your hand. He squeezes it gently and pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You’re tense and fuming as he holds you.

His mouth finds the shell of your ear and despite the wave of anger flowing through your body, it sends a shiver down your spine. Bucky whispers, “I hate to say it, but Zemo’s right. We have to go. I’ll explain on the way, I promise.”

You huff childishly and turn your head away from him as he kisses your temple. “Fine. If he steps out of line, I’ll kill him.”

Bucky laughs and takes your hand and walks you to the car. “Get in line, honey. Sam and I have first dibs.”

You resist the urge to smile and Bucky opens the door for you as Sam tosses your bag in the trunk and climbs into the front seat. Bucky slides in beside you and he tells you everything.

He tells you about their first encounter with the Flag Smashers. He tells you about how the leader and a few of her followers have taken a newer version of the serum that runs through his veins. He tells you that she plans on giving the serum to more people to build an army and that you have to stop her.

It makes your heart stop. You hadn’t really been keeping tabs on the Flag Smashers. Now, looking back, you probably should have. There’s still a lot of unknown variables to account for and it looks like the boys are taking it one step at a time, and apparently it starts with a trip to Madripoor. Zemo chimes in every now and then as he drives and it makes your blood boil that you’re forced to listen to what he has to say. You hate that he has the upper hand and is keeping valuable information hostage. You want to strangle him.

After a while, Zemo pulls into a private airport. Bucky helps you out of the car and grabs your bag from the trunk as the four of you walk towards the jet just off the runway. You had no idea just how rich Zemo was. Now that he’s out of prison, for now at least, his arrogance returned back in full force in addition to his pompous attitude.

You board the plane in silence, ignoring every word coming out of the Baron’s mouth. You settle in the back of the plane and ignore Bucky’s stares as you look out the window. You’re too angry to engage in conversation. You don’t care that Zemo insults Steve’s legacy. He’s gone, dead, what do you care? Yes, you wanted Steve to be happy, but he abandoned you. He abandoned Sam and Bucky.

Zemo rambles on and on. “People like Steve become symbols, icons. Then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” he turns to address Bucky directly. “You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

Silence fills the space and for a moment, you feel a reprieve. That was until Zemo mentioned the Winter Soldier.

“We can’t go into Madripoor as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You immediately stand up and protest, storming to the front of the plane. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you use Bucky, not again. There has to be another way.”

Zemo clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head. A smug graces his features and you lung at him, wrapping your hands around his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bucky leaps to his feet and tears you off of Zemo, dragging you to the back of the plane behind the curtains to give the two of you an illusion of privacy. Your shoulders shake with rage and Bucky’s hands caress your face.

“You can’t be him. He’s not you anymore. You don’t have to do this, Bucky. Please,” you begged, clinging to his hands. “I can’t let Zemo control you again.”

Bucky’s touched with how protective you are over him. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly against him. Your fingers grip the back of his shirt and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Honey,” he whispered. “I have to. I have to do this so we can stop the Flag Smashers from getting the serum. It’s for the mission.”

You huffed against his chest. Now you’re really regretting your decision to help Sam. You would’ve said no if you had known that it meant watching Bucky turn into the Winter Soldier again, even if it wasn’t real.

You don’t know what to say. He won’t change his mind. Bucky’s just as stubborn as you are and he’ll do anything for the success of the mission, just like Steve did.

You pull away and return back to your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare into the back of Zemo’s plush leather seat. Bucky trails behind you and squeezes your shoulder. You shrug off his touch as he takes the empty seat next to yours.

“And, I’m afraid that where we’re going doesn’t take too kindly to women who are…. how do I put this…. strong willed,” Zemo said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky barked, jumping to your defense just moments after you did the same for him.

“Selby will see Y/n as competition. We can’t have that happen. She’ll have to stay behind.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just going to just sit here and do nothing,” you snapped. “I’m coming with. I don’t care if I have to pretend to be meek.”

Zemo turns to look at you. He’s challenging you. You both know it. He’s pushing your buttons and it’s working. He smirks and leans against the armchair. His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Even if it means pretending to be a prostitute?”

Your gaze doesn’t falter and you ignore both Sam’s and Bucky’s protests. It falls on deaf ears. You don’t care, as long as you’re with Sam and Bucky and they’re safe. “Yes,” you answered without a second thought. You’ve done worse things than pretend to be a sex worker. It would be a piece of cake.

Zemo grins, letting out a soft laugh. “It looks like you’ll be joining us after all then, Y/n.”

You scoff at him and look out the window. Bucky drags you from your seat once more and pulls you behind the curtain. You look away from him and he reaches to squeeze your hand.

“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove,” he whispered, brushing the top of your palm with his warm and calloused fingers.

“You don’t either,” you mumbled back.

He smiles softly at your retort and pulls you into his arms. He holds you gently and cards his fingers through your hair. You hum quietly as he holds you.

“Touché, honey.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you before you lean back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierce through yours and it makes your heart race. You pull away and rub your palms against your thighs.

You disappear behind the curtain once more, leaving Bucky behind.

…

When you arrive in Madripoor, you’re dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination. The dress has a plunging neckline that settles just below your naval. Your chest is barely covered and your boobs threaten to slip over the fabric. You’re dressed for the part, that’s for sure.

Zemo is the first one to look at you when you return from behind the curtain. He whistles at you and it makes your skin crawl.

Bucky shoves Zemo harshly and grips his chest tightly, snarling in his face. “Watch your mouth,” Bucky hissed, shoving him into one of the chairs.

He turns to look at you and you reach to squeeze his hand. You pull him away from Zemo and whisper softly, “It’s alright, Buck. Take a deep breath.”

He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and does what you ask. “I’ll kill him. If he does that again, I’ll kill him.”

You laugh softly and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I don’t doubt you will, Buck.”

The two of you trail behind Sam and Zemo as you leave the plane. A sleek black car is waiting just off the runway and you follow behind to the vehicle. When you settle into your spot in between Buck and Sam in the back, Zemo turns to look at the three of you.

“It’s imperative that we don’t break character, no matter what. If you do, we’re good as dead, understand?”

You scoff and roll your eyes as he looks towards you. “Crystal,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

He turns to face the front of the vehicle and silence fills the car.

Suddenly, a number of motorcycles surround the car as you drive into Low Town. you make sure to keep your eyes forward and Bucky reaches for the hand on your knee. He squeezes it tightly and you do the same.

Reality is now just setting in for you. This is the first mission that you’ve been on since Steve went back to the 40s, and since Tony died. It had been three long months since Tony saved the world and brought everyone back that was taken five years earlier. You know that three months isn’t long, but it still makes you nervous. You haven’t been training to keep things from going rusty. You had no desire to.

Bucky leans into you, his mouth near the shell of your ear. “You okay?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. I’m a little out of practice. This is my first mission since Steve left,” you mumbled back, squeezing his hand again to keep you grounded. He does the same in return.

“It’s alright. I have your back. I’ll protect you, promise.”

A small smile finds its way onto your face and you shake your head at him. “You know better than anyone else than to promise something like that before a mission, Buck. It’s bad luck,” you teased.

He laughs too and the car stops in what you guess is the downtown area of Low Town. You take a deep breath and Bucky does the same. You squeeze his hand one last time before his hand falls from your grasp. He opens the door and climbs out. You follow close behind and find your spot next to Sam. He gingerly wraps his arm around your waist as you walk into the Princess Bar.

Electronic music blasts through the speakers and the bass vibrates through your chest. You press against Sam as you push through people to get to the bar. The smell of drugs and alcohol is suffocating as you walk and ignore the stares sent your way. They’re not staring at you, but Bucky, who walks just a step behind you like a looming shadow.

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asked Bucky in Russian.

It makes your blood boil and Sam squeezes your waist tightly, a reminder that you must not break character. You hate it. You hate that Bucky has to pretend to be the person he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. Bucky is not him. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore. That part of him is gone, dead. You only hope that Bucky reminds himself that the Winter Soldier isn’t him anymore as he pretends just feet behind you.

You stand in front of the bar counter as the bartender approaches. You keep your mouth shut as Zemo exchanges words with the man, briefly bringing Sam, the Smiling Tiger, into the conversation. Your eyes find Bucky’s and your heart jumps inside your throat. His eyes are cold and void of any emotion. He’s stoic and brooding. He’s fallen into character perfectly and it scares you to think that all the progress he’s made over the years has been destroyed in this moment. For his sake, you hope not.

You tear your eyes away from Bucky at the feeling of Sam’s hand on the curve of your ass. You watch him carefully as he takes a shot. The bartender moves on and you let out a careful breath.

A man grasps at Zemo’s shoulder and sneers at him. He looks over at Bucky as Zemo asks to see Selby before he walks away. Another man approaches Zemo from behind and he speaks in Russian once more. “Winter Soldier, attack.”

You hold your breath in anticipation as the unsuspecting man rests his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You want to reach out and touch Bucky, tell him that he doesn’t have to, that the two of you still have time to make a run for it, but you don’t. You can’t. Zemo would probably try and kill you if you interfere and it’s the last thing you need.

Bucky stalks over to him with two long strides, and rips the man’s hand from Zemo’s shoulder. He twists his wrist back and throws him to the ground. Another man swings at Bucky and he stops it with ease. He punches his back and kicks him against another crowny. As another man attempts to punch and kick at Bucky. He uses his metal arm and momentum to take each of them out.

“It doesn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo smirked, leaning over to look at you and Sam.

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed between your teeth as you watched Bucky.

Bucky grabs one of the men by the throat and slams him into the counter. Guns cock all around you as you look around the room. Your heart is inside your throat and there’s ringing in your ears. You reach to grab Bucky’s arm, but Sam beats you to it.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo whispered. “Well done, soldier.”

Sam lets go of his arm and takes a step back, pulling you with him. He squeezes your hip tightly as you watch Bucky’s grip fall from the man’s throat.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said.

Zemo moves to follow him and you resist the urge to reach out and touch Bucky. Sam pulls you along and you walk in silence down a number of hallways. The music fades into the background and you’re squeezing Sam’s hand like your life depends on it.

A number of men on Selby’s security detail whistle as you walk by. You bite your tongue and resist the urge to snap their necks. The four of you wait at the door at the end of the hall for several seconds before it opens. You walk inside and Zemo takes you from Sam’s side. Your jaw ticks as he guides you to the empty sofa. His hand settles on your thigh and you tense under his touch.

Zemo and Selby negotiate for information. All you need to know is who created the serum and where they are. That’s it. Zemo needs to stick to the plan.

Zemo stands up from his spot next to you. “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him…. along with the code words to control him,” Zemo stands behind Bucky, his hand resting on his shoulder. He’s silent and obedient, the perfect encapsulation of who he had been for the last 80 years.

There wasn’t a discussion over what the offer would be when you were on the plane from Latvia. You just assumed Zemo would figure a way out of it, he was clever enough to do it before. You hadn’t thought that he would actually use the Winter Soldier to his benefit outside of protection. How naive of you.

Bucky’s eyes are dark and he stares straight ahead as Zemo caresses his chin. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s playing the Winter Soldier perfectly and you hate every second. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you start to taste blood.

“He will do anything you want.”

Selby grins, leaning back in her spot on the couch opposite of you. She tells him what you need to know. She nears Sam and then the worst happens, his phone begins to ring.

She tells him to answer it and your fingers squeeze into the leather couch. Your heart races and for the first time since you walked into the bar, Bucky’s eyes find yours. You know he can see your panic.

Things are fine momentarily. Sam’s trying his best to stay in character and you know it’s not working as well as he’d like. You hold your breath and your panic settles in at the mention of Sam’s name coming from Sarah.

“Kill them—”

Your eyes widen in horror as a bullet pierces through the glass window in front of you and lodges into Selby’s throat, killing her instantly. The act is over.

You leap to your feet and pull the tactical knife that you hid in your dress out from underneath you. You slice the knife across your attacker’s arm. Bucky kicks him into the wall and grabs you by the arm.

You run as fast as you can out the bar and through the streets of Madripoor. You dodge bullets and fight off others that attack you with knives.

You do well, all things considered with what you’re dressed in. You dig your heel into the boot of your attacker, throwing them off balance. You kick their leg out from underneath them and Sam knocks them unconscious.

Bucky, of course, is doing just fine on his own. You run over to help. You disarm the man closer to you and use the butt of the gun to knock him out.

You barely have time to register the man creeping up behind Bucky. His arm is outstretched with a gun in his hand. Bucky has no clue.

“Bucky!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, running as fast as you can towards him.

He turns to look at you as you use your whole body to shove him aside as the gun goes off.

Time stands still.

You fall to the ground in a daze as the bullet rips through your shoulder. Your eyes stare up into the night sky as it takes you a moment to realize that you’d just been shot.

You try to sit up and get back on your feet. You don’t have time to worry about your wound. You need to get the hell out of Low Town.

Bucky nearly drags you off the ground and you run. You run as fast as you can despite the bullet in your shoulder.

“We need to get out of here!” Bucky shouted, inspecting your wound.

A shadowy figure approaches and Bucky blocks you from view. The hood drops and you peer over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t have time to be surprised that Sharon is the one standing in front of you.

“Sharon? What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

“We don’t have time for that!” Bucky snapped. “Sharon, please. You gotta help us. Y/n’s been shot.”

She nods and motions for you to follow her. She stops in front of a beautiful blue car and Bucky guides you into the car, pressing his metal hand against your shoulder to stop the bleeding. You ignore Sam and Bucky’s bickering as they yell at you for getting shot. You don’t have the energy to respond.

Sharon races across town and pulls up to a very fancy building. Sharon jumps out and opens the door for Bucky. His arm holds your torso and your uninjured arm is thrown over his shoulder as you walk inside. You gather into the elevator as it takes you to the top floor.

Your entire body goes numb and Bucky guides you to the kitchen counter. Sharon briefly disappears before returning with a heavy duty first aid kit.

“Do you have tequila?” you asked her as Bucky rummaged through the bag for the correct supplies. Sharon laughs softly before grabbing a bottle of tequila from her liquor cabinet. You take a generous sip and the liquid burns your throat.

Bucky inspects the bullet wound carefully. Thankfully it was a through and through. He doesn’t have to fish the bullet out. He works quickly and you grit your teeth as he stitches the wound close on both sides of your shoulder.

The pain lessened to a dull throb now that he’s finished. He cleans the excess blood off your skin before gently placing your arm in a sling.

“Why did you do that, Y/n?” Bucky chastised you, shaking his head in disappointment. “I could’ve taken care of him.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “I don’t even get a thank you for saving your ass? You were vulnerable, I did the right thing.”

He sighs and you look away. Your eyes find Sharon’s. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

She nods and disappears down the hall to her bedroom. Silence fills the room and Sam takes his turn to reprimand you. You ignore him entirely and take another large swig of tequila.

Sharon returns moments later with a pair of clean clothes. You thank her quietly and she points you in the direction of one of the guest bedrooms. You hop off the counter and ignore Bucky’s protests and calls of your name.

You huffed in frustration as you limped towards one of Sharon’s guest bedrooms. You had enough of Sam and Bucky yelling at you for your recklessness, especially Bucky. You’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep.

You did what you thought was right. You did what Steve would’ve done. You had Bucky’s back. Isn’t that what mattered? Sure, you got shot in the shoulder, but it isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have the scars to prove it.

“Stop running away from me! We’re not done talking about this!” Bucky yelled after you, hot on your heels into the bedroom. “What were you thinking?”

You’re sick of Bucky questioning you. You’re not a child and you’re not the bright eyed recruit he thinks you still are. You did what was right in the heat of the moment. You don’t regret it. You’d do it all over again if it meant that he was safe.

“Stop treating me like a child, James! I’m not Steve’s recruit anymore! I’m a grown woman,” you shouted back at him. Your shoulders shake and you glare at him. “I know you still think I’m that naive 25 year old, but that’s not me anymore. The last five years may have been five seconds to you, but they weren’t to me. Accept the fact that I did what I thought was right.”

“It was reckless!”

“Steve would’ve done it!” you bit back.

“This isn’t about Steve!” he argued.

You laugh bitterly and shake your head. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see what you see. You know he sees you as his responsibility now that Steve’s gone. He feels an obligation to look after you because Steve did. You have a part of Steve with you. Bucky’s clinging to any last remains of Steve, and that includes you.

“Isn’t it though? You feel like you have a responsibility to protect me, to look after me. Why? It’s because Steve did and now that he’s gone, you feel like you have to replace him!”

The silence that fills the room suffocates you. Your heart races with anger. You want Bucky to leave you alone. You didn’t ask for this. Sam needed your help, and when you provided it, you got yelled at for it. Now you just want to go home.

You turn your back to Bucky and pull the pants that Sharon gave you up your legs before discarding the dress in the corner of the room. You don’t care if Bucky sees all the scars that litter your backside. Maybe then he would understand that you’ve always done what’s best for the mission, even if that meant getting hurt. You throw the sweatshirt over your head and turn to look at Bucky again.

“Do you have anything else to say to me? Are you going to try and deny it?”

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re one of the only people I have left that have a connection to Steve.”

Another bitter laugh escapes your mouth. He doesn’t understand. “He abandoned me, James! He abandoned us. Steve’s gone. You can’t hold on to him anymore. You don’t have to do anything Steve did. You have nothing to prove to me, I promise. I don’t need you to replace Steve. I need you, Buck. You’re the one that’s here with me, not Steve.”

Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and you look away from him. The silence is deafening and Bucky moves to take you in his arms. He holds you against his chest and cards his fingers through your hair. You cry against his chest and cling to his henley. He gently guides you to the bed and sits down with you in his lap.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re right. It just scared me. I don’t think I can handle losing you too. I’m sorry.”

You pull away to look at him with your tear stained cheeks and he carefully wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You blink away the remaining tears and lean into his touch. “It’s okay, Buck. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You rest your forehead against his and breathe him in. His metal hand rubs circles against your back and it sends shivers down your spine. He holds you carefully and no words are exchanged. Your eyes flicker to his lips and your heart thunders against your chest.

There’s a soft knock at the door and you pull your body off of Bucky’s. You sit beside him as Sam pokes his head inside the room. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between the two of you.

You look over at Bucky and then back to Sam. You smile and nod slowly. “Everything’s perfect, Sam.”

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes imagines #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #Bucky imagines #tfatws #tfatws x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan imagines #sebastian x reader #sebastian imagine #my writing

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Graveyard Siblings (3)

Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

-------

Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.

-------

“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”

“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”

“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”

“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”

“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.

“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.

She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.

“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”

Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)

Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.

“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”

“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”

“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”

Adrien continued to dodge.

“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.

“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”

“Ladybug, what do you want?”

“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.

Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.

“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.

Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.

Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.

--------

He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.

Gabriel was a little panicking now.

He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)

Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.

She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.

-----

Adrien has a curse too.

(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)

He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.

Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)

People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.

The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.

He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.

He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)

Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.

Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.

He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.

He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.

The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.

Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)

If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.

The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.

------

The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.

On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)

Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”

Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”

Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.

The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.

Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.

He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.

They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)

Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.

There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.

Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)

Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.

I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.

She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.

There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.

Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)

Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.

Screams filled the house.

Everyone came down including Marinette.

Bruce asked, “Who did this?”

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“They kept eating the cookies.”

“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”

“They are non-lethal.”

Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)

#graveyard siblings #maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #adrien salt #adrien bashing #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

I just finished reading all your Haikyuu Kitsune fics and I am obsessed. I was wondering what would happen if kitsune Suna just kidnapped the reader one night and she just wakes up in his Kitsune village tied up lol.

(╯‵□′)╯︵💗

Glad you enjoyed them! Thanks for reading & requesting ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You were awake for a while already, pondering, when you finally heard the door to the basement open again. Even though you felt exhausted and anxious after the last few hours that you spent alone in the dark, you still mustered up the strength to glare, enough hatred in your gaze that the person entering the basement should have dropped dead if looks could kill. Person? Entity? You weren’t sure how to title him, but any name that came to mind wasn’t a very friendly one.

“You’re scrunching up your face... again,” he noted, and now pointed out, you grimaced even more. Suna either didn’t want to understand why you were looking at him, clearly finding discomfort in your gaze as he opted to avoid your eyes, or he decided to play dumb. Whichever it was, it only made you angrier!

“Seriously...” he mumbled, sighing deeply before placing down the tray he had been carrying, on a barrel next to the stairs. The whole basement was stuffed with things that seemed like they had been standing there for a while, unused and covered in thick layers of dust. Some of the stuff looked like ancient versions of modern tools for farming, but with that man nearby, your whereabouts were your slightest worry.

“I got you some food.”

Placing a spoon into the bowl he had brought, he stirred it briefly, a gooey, thick substance dripping of the cutlery when he lifted it into the light of the candle accompanying him. You, right away, felt anything but hungry, even if you assumed it was just oatmeal. Still, judging from the looks of it, you couldn’t find even one thing that was appetizing about it.

Taking the bowl with him, he walked over to you, a hand reaching out towards your face as you reacted, pushing yourself backwards until your back hit another barrel behind you. The metal chains wrapped around your wrists rattled upon your stir, making Suna flinch away for a second, his whole body stiffening as he looked back over his shoulder and up the staircase. He remained silent for a moment as if he waited for the door to open, but nothing happened.

“Don’t be too loud,” he reminded you for what must have been the fiftieth time since he threw you over his shoulder and made a run for it to this place, a strange, abandoned village in the forest. “They could hear you. Just be warned that other than me, my kin might eat you on the spot.”

Part of you wanted to call this a bluff—just a trick to keep you quiet. But knowing how unpredictable he was, you didn’t want to get to know any other ‘of his kin’ either. This time, you drilled a hole into the hand slowly approaching your face, strained your neck to get it off you. But lastly, he managed to pull on the cloth wrapped around your head and gagging you, making you fear more scratches from the claws on his fingers.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel sore around your mouth but being free of the gag it was the painful reality you were facing. “Eat,” Suna decided, gathering the gunk of a meal on his spoon before lifting it to your lips. “Fuck off!” you hissed at him quickly, turning your head away and making him struggle to hold the spoon properly, dripping its contents everywhere.

“I am doing this for you, you know?” he growled as you two fought over whether you were going to eat or not. Until Suna had enough, his second hand much quicker and less careful in its approach as it clipped over your nose, pulling you forward. You didn’t have enough time to see it coming, gasping as he cut off your air supply and tugged, making you open your mouth wide enough for him to press the spoon forward.

The taste of unseasoned oats and the wooden spoon mixed with your saliva while you tried not to gag from the slime that seemed to slip right down your throat. Before you knew it, Suna let go of your nose, and you didn’t hesitate to spit out whatever hadn’t been forwarded to your stomach yet, the mass spilling all over the floor.

Disgusted, Suna watched you as you coughed, wishing the taste would pass immediately, not even a hint of understanding in his gaze. “For someone so worried about food, you’re very wasteful. Open up, come on.”

You barely had time to recover as he scooped up another mouthful, but this time you felt ready nonetheless. Clenching your teeth together, you waited for him to do the trick again, deciding you’d rather suffocate than accept any food from him, especially one that you couldn’t be sure where, when, and how it was made.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he pressed the spoon up to your teeth, growing impatient as you wouldn’t open up no matter how much pressure he applied. Suna even gripped your chin from below, trying to slam both forces together, but you persisted. You would have been mighty proud of yourself for resisting if not for the oatmeal getting plastered all over your face, its consistency running down your cheeks and lips as Suna threw away the spoon in frustration.

“Fine!” he gnarled. “You want to show me how tough you are? I can do that too!”

As if on cue, the light flickered before going out, but even just the three seconds that you were able to see his bared teeth - his pointy fangs looking even longer than you imagined them from that time he bit you - scared you. It was the first time, but certainly not the last, that you felt yourself submit to him. Like an animal who tugged in its tail, you flinched away, ducking lightly until all you could see were his golden, shining eyes in the dark. Even if it was just a spur-of-the-moment action, you instantly felt embarrassed and upset you reacted the way you did.

“Good,” he appraised your recoiling motion before he moved closer. You felt his body leaning towards you, the warmth impossible to ignore as his arms caged you on either side, barrel in the back and fox in the front. You felt something wet and rough drag over your chin, lips, and cheek before you felt it trying to intrude on your mouth. Even if you wanted to complain, scream even, you found yourself cut off by Suna exploring the inside and catching your voice, the damn taste of oatmeal back on your tongue with no way of spitting it out.

His arms closed in on your hands, long fingers wrapping around the metal restraints and pulling your shoulders down until your hands pressed against the dirty ground, making it almost impossible to move your body like you wanted. The kiss continued, mouths opening for quick breathers in between, and you had to realize that these fangs weren’t optimal to be used for kissing, your teeth colliding with his a few times, and your lips getting caught on the fangs. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but every time it happened, you felt a spark of pain going through you.

The sounds very quickly changed from sloppy to passionate on his side, soft whines and groans escaping him in the breaks. You felt like you were going to die from either shame or the pain of him ending up dislocating your shoulders as Suna kept pressing in further and further, his chest soon enough resting on yours while your hands hurt from being caught in his grip and bracing against the ground.

All that was left when he very suddenly, very unpredictably, pulled away was the taste of iron as his fang finally managed to rip open a small part of your lip. You cursed inwardly as you took deep breaths, trying to regain air and your composure, while you barely heard him whisper something under his own breath. “... too much,” you made out, coming from him before he turned around, taking deep breaths.

“What the fuck--!” you cursed, but Suna was quick to return to you, clasping his hand over your mouth before listening intently. “Shhh!” he hissed, listening again, just like before. However, this time, you collected all the courage you had in you to bite him in the hand, catching a finger to latch on to. Suna noticeably flinched before he pulled away, seemingly looking at his hand for a split moment in an emotion you couldn’t make out. Still, before long, he clicked his tongue and pressed the gag he had taken off you back in place.

Even if you struggled now, he was stronger than you as well as relentless, and after tying a knot in the back, his hands lingered on each side of your head briefly. You could only see his eyes coming closer, but next thing you knew, you felt another kiss to your exposed lips before he seemed to notice the blood, his tongue coming forth to lick the wound tenderly, different from how he treated you before. “Fuck...” he whispered before he finally let you go and got up, his feet barely making any sound as he moved away.

“I’ll be back in the morning, don’t make a sound if you want to survive the night,” were his last words before he swiftly walked up the stairs and out the door, again leaving you behind all by yourself.

What were you supposed to make out of the situation? Why did he bring you here anyway if he was just going to leave you alone? What was ‘too much’, and why did he kiss you again and again? It felt like every time you saw him, you had more questions left unanswered than before. All you knew was that you wanted to go home.

And hopefully, this was just a very awful nightmare you’d soon wake up from.

248 notes · View notes

btswrckd · 3 years

Text

War of Hearts

Mafia Boss!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with Kim Taehyung does not mean you have to be civil. Or make his life easy.

Warnings: mentions of violence, slight angst, mentions of weapons such as guns and knives, brief mention of smut, future smut

A/N: I wanted to post this as a one-shot, but naturally, I couldn’t condense it enough. There’s just too much that can’t be left out. But the good news is that I’m about 90% done with this fic and should be able to post it in maybe 3 parts. Enjoy guys!

Also, title is inspired by War of Hearts by Ruelle. Go listen to her music, it’s amazing!

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“You’re asking me to do what, now?” you hiss through clenched teeth, fingers curling into the underside of the armrest of the boarding room chair. How your idiot cousins managed to both purchase a rather nice building in the middle of the city, and run a legitimate business as a cover to their true nature, is a mystery to you. Yet here you are, ten seconds from launching yourself across the table to strangle either one of them.

“I don’t believe I stuttered,” Joongki is confident in the way he answers you and buttons his suit jacket. “And I didn’t ask you to do anything, I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”

Your eyes flicker to Jeonghan as he stands by his brother and nervously stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He catches your eye, licking his busted lip as you raise an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to confirm what Joongki just said. You watch his hand come up to rub at his sore jaw and get some satisfaction as he works his jawbone back and forth.

Joongki lets out a heavy sigh as his brother all but whimpers under your gaze. He was well aware of how much you’d fight their men in getting you to the building, but he wasn’t prepared for the strong swing of your fist, or the nearly deafening sound of said fist cracking his younger brother across the face.

“We’re all each other has,” Jeonghan finally pipes up after deducing that his jaw was not broken. “This is for your own safety, Y/N. I don’t like it any more than you do but there’s no other option.”

“I will not be thrown under lock and key just because you two have enemies.” You’re standing before either of them can argue. “I didn’t ask for this! For you two to be who you are and making my life more difficult than it already is!”

Joongki scratches at his brow when a mop of messily done up chestnut hair pops up over the cubicle wall separating her from the boarding room. He waves his secretary away with a slight twitch of his lips, watching the flushing of her cheeks and bobbing of her head before it disappears. He’s too busy smirking down at his feet to notice the way you swing around the chair. Or the way Jeonghan desperately reaches to stop you from storming out. What he does notice is the small ‘oomph’ leaving your mouth when you stumble into somebody, and suddenly he’s brought back to the importance of the situation.

You don’t expect to be stopped, you certainly don’t expect to be stopped by a firm chest and steadying hand on your hip. When you finally catch your bearings, you blink up at the man that had somehow walked into the room without making a sound. It’s with a heavy heart that you recognize this man despite having lost contact with him years ago. You were children when you’d last met so it takes you a minute to see him clearly, your eyes roving all over his face. Starting with what used to be his bouncy black locks that were now replaced with slicked down hair, to the never changing intensity of his dark brown eyes, down to the defined jaw that used to harbor a little bit of cute chub, and finally back up to his plush lips that split into a grin.

“You,” you breathe airily and your stunned reaction only makes his smile grow wider.

“You,” he mimics and tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise. “It’s nice to see you too, princess.”

“Mr. Kim,” Joongki reluctantly smiles while extending his hand to greet his rival, fingers tensing around the man’s answering hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m aware that my brother and I are asking a lot from you and that this situation isn’t exactly ideal for either party, but I just want to thank you for helping us out.”

“I never said this situation wasn’t ideal for me.” Kim Taehyung gave one final squeeze to Joongki’s hand before slipping it into the pocket of his pants. His other hand remains firm on your hip, the heat from his palm burning through the denim of your jeans and making your breath hitch. “I believe my father’s been hoping to merge our families for quite some time. I look at this as an opportunity rather than a ‘situation’.”

“Yes, well.” Joongki shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The Kim family had great influence over 90% of the city and before your grandfather’s passing, Mr. Kim had high hopes of taking two entities and making them one strong force. With your grandfather’s death came the need for new leadership and it fell heavily on Joongki’s shoulders. To say he’d snubbed the Kim family when it came to working together would be putting it lightly. “It seems your father will be getting exactly as he’s always wanted.”

Jeonghan thrusts an elbow to his older brother’s arm. He may not understand the magnitude of being a leader, but he knows when to play nice, and this moment called for practically kneeling down and kissing the Kim family’s feet. He looks to the way you stand stiff in Taehyung’s arms and the curling of your fingers against his suit vest. For a moment, he considers calling the entire thing off and convincing his brother to find another way to keep you safe. He opens his mouth to do just that when Taehyung speaks.

“I have every intention of keeping Y/N safe, be it from whoever is threatening you, my own family, or even you two.” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbles in his chest as his hand pulls you ever so slightly closer. “My father may have wanted this for some time, but believe me when I say that I’ve wanted it longer. Nothing and no one will hurt her, I promise you that.”

Jeonghan and Joongki share a concerned glance with each other before your voice breaks the silence.

“Kim Taehyung.” His name sounds foreign coming from your mouth. The last time you’d seen him you were being carted away by your parents at the age of 10. The sudden announcement of your family’s move left you waving to a chubby cheeked, teary eyed Taehyung as your father pulled away from your childhood home. They died not soon after and you were taken under the care of your grandfather along with Joongki and Jeonghan. But even after your grandfather reestablished a relationship with the Kim family, you hadn’t seen Taehyung again since that day.

“Princess,” he husks out, eyes dropping to your lips and thumb stroking your hip in soothing circles as if it were going to help any. Something dark is swirling in your eyes as you regard him, and he’s sure you don’t recognize it as lust but he does. He sees it fester and simmer before you blink it away and sneer up at him.

You cousins simultaneously wince as you draw back and take one quick strike to Taehyung, kneeing him in the groin with a huff before you stomp out of the room. When Taehyung slumps to the floor with a pain filled groan, Joongki feels a bit of sympathy for him. Your temper and raging need to fight against anything and everything to do with this life will be a daily struggle. Jeonghan coughs to hide his laugh as Taehyung’s right hand man looks torn between helping his boss, or chasing you down to make sure you don’t get too far. This will certainly be entertaining to watch.

------------------------------------------------------

“Let go of me!” you grunt out as Taehyung adjusts your frame on his shoulder. You’re kicking and pounding against his back with the hopes of getting free and escaping, but those hopes are dashed when he tosses you on the mattress of the master bedroom. You scramble back against the headboard as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolls up the sleeves. The frustrated roll of his shoulders and neck is undoubtedly sexy, but it also serves as a reminder that you aren’t meant to find him attractive. At all. As you curse yourself for even thinking as much, he’s snatching your ankles and dragging you down the bed.

Taehyung would never hurt you, he knows that you know that, but watching the small bit of fear flitting across your face has him smirking down at you. He plants both hands on either side of your head to cage you in, hips pressed to yours as you unconsciously widen them to accommodate his frame. “If you wanted to go out, princess, then you could have asked. Jungkookie and Jimin would gladly drive you wherever you want to go.”

“Even away from you?” You glare at him, panic washing over you when you feel the bed dip and he’s on his knees, the added weight pulling you closer to him. His arms slide forward until his nose grazes yours. He’s so close that he could kiss you and you think he’s going to until his nose skims down the length of your neck instead.

“There is no getting away from me, princess,” he whispers against your skin. “I’d think you’d know that by now. You’ve been trying to run from me for the last 6 months and it’s gotten you nowhere.”

You’d beg to differ, Being underneath him was surprisingly pleasant. The push of his hips against yours made you gasp and arch into his chest. You slam your eyes shut to get ahold of yourself, silently reciting your mantra of ‘I’m not a horny teenager, I’m a grown woman, and I am not attracted to my husband’.

Taehyung could smell the sweet scent of berries on your skin from that damn bottle of lotion you love so much. He didn’t think it was possible to be jealous of an inanimate object but he is. He’s also tempted to throw the stupid thing away and burn down every Bath and Body Works store so you can’t get another one. The image of your hands slathering the cream up and down your smooth legs makes him groan and push against you a little harder. He likes to think he isn’t some creep who forces himself on a girl, and if you weren’t so responsive, he wouldn’t even touch you without permission.

A lot of men in their line of work didn’t think consent was an issue, some of them even found the fight to be a turn on, and you’re grateful that Taehyung‘s not that kind of man. In fact, he’d said on several occasions that he wouldn’t come closer than necessary if you weren’t okay with it. He even went as far as sleeping in one of the many guest rooms in the house, dropping the one and only key to the master bedroom in your hand so only you had access to it. This went on for 2 months before you’d lashed out and tried sneaking off for a night out with friends. Naturally Taehyung had hunted you down and dragged you back to the house, lecturing you on the dangers of leaving without telling anyone where you’d be. The next morning his things had been moved into the room and he invaded every inch of your space every chance he got.

You didn’t want to admit that waking up to his face inches from yours was something you’d easily gotten used to, but then again you didn’t actually need to voice it out loud. Not when you’d woken up one morning to find your legs tangled with his, your arms tossed across his torso, and clinging to him like a koala. You had squeaked and fell out of bed in your haste to untangle yourself from him. He had woken up in fear that something happened, but chuckled when he saw you on the floor, blankets and sheets raveled around your legs. Embarrassed and flushed, you’d shot him a glare as he’d gotten out of bed and strode into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After that, you had made it your daily mission to see just how far you could push him to his breaking point. Little things such as “accidentally” walking away from Jimin or Jungkook in a crowded area, or turning down a meal that Seokjin had prepared because you were “exhausted” even though you’d done nothing that day, and even taking the hand of Namjoon or Hoseok once or twice instead of Taehyung’s when moving through a room full of people. You could see Taehyung’s frustration boiling beneath the surface and kicked it up a notch by giving your undivided attention to Yoongi during dinner one night. Yoongi of course, knew what you were doing and would have been scared of the repercussions of flirting with you if Taehyung hadn’t trusted him so much.

Yoongi played along with your little show, allowing you to lean in a little too close when talking, whispering in your ear about how much trouble you’d be in if Taehyung snapped, and letting you “subtly” run your finger across his knuckles. He had used his napkin to hide his smile when Taehyung had sprung up from his seat, snatched your wrist, and dragged you to the master bedroom. He had cleaned up the table and clapped Jimin and Jungkook on the shoulders, advising them to use headphones or sleep in the car for the rest of the night.

Taehyung had watched you stumble into the room, descending on you quickly when you had turned to yell at him. Whatever you were going to say had died on your tongue as he backed you against the wall, gripping your chin and hissing something about the possibility of killing Yoongi. You, equally as pissed, began to rant and scream about having your freedom taken away and wanting to teach Taehyung a lesson for confusing your already fogged up brain by being a gentleman rather than the piss poor excuse of a man most gang members are.

Taehyung had the audacity to smirk, fucking smirk, before crashing his mouth to yours and tangling his hand in your hair. He had tugged at the strands until you gasped and he slipped his tongue in to push against yours. He felt your hands wrenching the fabric of his dress shirt but he didn’t give you room to breathe, instead pressing you against the wall further. At some point he had started toying with the button to your jeans, waiting for your refusal, and when you hadn’t slapped him away, he popped the button open.

You had gasped loudly at the feel of his fingers, the rough pads running up and down your slit, stopping to press and rub at your clit before he was sinking his fingers in knuckles deep. You didn’t remember much else except for the overwhelming pleasure and the raspy sound of Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung echoing around the room. Afterwards, he had avoided you like the plague until you’d finally managed to corner him in the kitchen one night. You’d been huffy, demanding an explanation for his absence. Not that you’d missed him, of course. He’d said that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night and that he was sorry for losing control, to which you had scoffed. You clarified that discomfort wasn’t what you had felt, you were an adult, and just as willing as he was, and to stop tiptoeing around you.

“Princess,” the bane of your existence growls out, bringing you back to the present. He chuckles, deep and rich, and sends goosebumps across your skin. “For someone who wants to get as far away from me as possible, you don’t seem to be willing to let me go.”

You look down at your hands curled into his shirt and immediately release your hold. It seems you were too caught up in your trip down memory lane to notice. You drop your hands from his chest and avert your eyes to the door where two sharp knocks catch his attention as well.

“Boss,” Namjoon’s voice drifts through the wood, “your phone’s been ringing like crazy. Your father is trying to reach you.”

Taehyung sighs in disappointment and shifts away, pressing against your core one last time and you squeeze your legs together as if to keep him in place. He recognizes the faint blush on your cheeks as embarrassment and places a soft kiss to your cheek. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told, princess. I know you get a kick out of raising Jungkook’s blood pressure, but raising mine in the process will leave you widowed sooner than you’d think.”

You feel as though you’re finally able to breathe now that he’s out of the room and put a hand to your racing chest. It wasn’t just his blood pressure that’s been spiking lately. You sit up and tuck your arms beneath your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You really thought you were close this time around. The memory of being giddy as you tore through the airport to catch the plane to literally anywhere but here, only to freeze in the middle of the terminal as Taehyung stood in your way with his hands casually tucked in his pockets and his army of men around him. You run your hands through your hair and tug at the roots in anger, cursing your cousins and the day they were born.

Outside, Taehyung tugs at the buttons of his dress shirt while pressing his phone to his ear. “Dad?”

“Either your security system has gone to shit,” Mr. Kim calmly scolds his son, “or there’s a rat in your home. I’m looking through your camera footage as we speak, and unless I’m officially going senile, the cameras look like they’re in some kind of loop.”

“What kind of loop?” Taehyung is already making his way to the security room with Namjoon in tow.

“A car speeds past your security gate, seemingly at the same exact time every day, same make and model every time too. That’s not a coincidence, son, handle it quickly before it gets out of control.”

“On it.” Taehyung throws open the door to the security room, startling the guys watching the live feed from the cameras. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Behind you,” Yoongi’s voice makes his presence known, trailing in and sitting at his personal computer to go through the footage Taehyung is there to discuss. “Everyone out.”

The other two men scramble outside with break neck speed. If Yoongi and Taehyung are here then something only they know about is going on, and nobody wants to get caught in the middle of it unless necessary.

“What’s going on with our cameras?” Taehyung looks over Yoongi’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Nothing,” Yoongi sighs, pressing play on the paused screen while a miniature box with his personal coding pops up in the corner. “I noticed the same gray Tahoe driving down our street every day for the last week, and at first I thought somebody tampered with the cameras, so I built a code to filter through the system and push out whatever was installed to make this look like it’s on a loop. When nothing changed, I did some maintenance on the camera’s themselves, and still nothing. Someone is timing it just right to fool us, because check this out.” Yoongi pulls up another screen, zooming in on the corner of the frame where another car is doing a surprisingly good job of hiding. “So I can’t see who exactly the driver is, but I do know that they wait in this exact spot until the clock hits 3 on the dot. When that happens, they make a call, and out comes the Tahoe. Every. Single. Time.”

“One of ours?” Taehyung’s referring to one of the guys they keep on the property for extra measure.

“No one here did it. I rifled through their phones, computers, whatever I could and nothing popped up.” Yoongi confirms and points to the screen. “About an hour after the Tahoe zips by the screen, the car in hiding pulls out and goes the opposite direction, also part of tricking the cameras so we think there’s a glitch.”

“And the license plate?” Namjoon chimes in from the seat beside Yoongi.

“Belongs to a little old lady on the other side of the world. Looking for a date, Joon? She likes to read the same books you do and she crochets.” Yoongi jokes, “personally, I’d like a new sweater for Christmas.”

“Find out who it is.” Taehyung doesn’t laugh, not exactly appreciating the joke, and storms out of the room, throwing the door open so wide that it smacks against the wall.

----------------------------------------------------

You don’t recognize your own reflection. The woman in the mirror with foundation caked on much too heavily, curled and mascara filled lashes, and lips painted in a color that was meant to seem natural, did not look a thing like you. You’re close to wiping your face clean when the door to the room swings open and Jeonghan strolls in like he owns the place. It occurs to you that he probably does.

“What?” you huff at him as he comes up behind you.

“I know you’re angry,” he whispers, sadness in his eyes as he meets your reflection. “But we promised grandpa that we’d take care of you. Too much is happening for us to not take precaution. Everyone knows how much you mean to us and if they get to you, we’d be devastated.”

“Then why can’t I go abroad?” you ask, turning to him with pleading eyes and he takes a step back. You see tears building in his eyes as he takes in your appearance. He’s proud, you realize, as a smile spreads across his face. He’s proud of you, proud of who you are as a person despite the kind of business your parents ran.

“You’re gorgeous, little cousin,” Jeonghan lets out a shaky exhale, unprepared for the whirlwind of emotions slamming into him. “Grandfather, our parents, everybody would have loved to be here. To see you---.”

“Signing my life away?” you don’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. You don’t want to hear it. There was a time when you believed your wedding day would be a celebration, not a life sentence. You look down to the white of your dress, the gown suddenly felt too constricting and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. “I don’t want this, Joenghan, please don’t make me do this.”

“If this were anyone else, I’d whisk you away without argument.” Jeonghan looks away from your face to keep himself from ruining everything. “But this is Taehyung, Y/N. You used to be friends and you cared so much for each other. We’ve known the Kim family for so long now that this would have happened eventually, don’t you think?”

“I would have still liked to have the option!” You stand from the chair and stalk towards him. “My friendship with Taehyung ended when we were children. I don’t know who he is now or what he’s done to get this far, but I do know that anyone willing to go to this length to get what they want is not someone to be trusted.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Joongki steps into the room and looks to his brother to find relief crossing his face. “It seems I got here just in time, little brother, you look like you’re about to hurl.”

“She scares me,” Jeonghan admits while moving for the door. “Men with guns, knives, even the occasional psychopath I can handle, but Y/N? Nope, that’s asking too much.”

You glare at your cousin slipping outside before you can say more, and you turn to Joongki. “I’m not being dramatic, you jackass, I’m being logical. You guys have hovered over me my entire life, is it so wrong to want control over at least this part of it?”

“I don’t need to remind you that this is for your own safety.” Joongki’s tone is harsh, a complete contrast to Jeonghan, but harsh was something you could fight against. Harsh, you could throw back in his face. The gentle lull of Jeonghan’s voice, you couldn’t, and often found yourself feeling guilty for hurting him.

“I don’t need to remind you that even if my parents were still alive, this isn’t the life I would have chosen,” you spit back at your eldest cousin, watching his shoulders tense. “Even if grandfather were still alive, I would have fought tooth and nail against this just like I am now. What the hell, Joongki? Weren’t you the one that was opposed to merging the families in the first place? And what, because you and Jeonghan pissed off some people, I have to pay the consequences?”

“Powerful people, Y/N,” Joongki hisses at you, “powerful people that wouldn’t think twice about torturing you to get to us.”

“So then this is more about protecting yourselves than it is me?” Your chest rises and falls with the building anger, and he looks at you with so much fire in his eyes that you’re sure Joongki would strike you at any moment. “This is about not having to babysit me anymore and dumping me off on some poor sack whose life I’m about to make a living hell!”

“It was always about you!” Joongki roars, the volume making you drop your eyes to the ground as you had with your grandfather and father. They’d never hit you, never even so much as raised a hand to you, but they were able to correct your behavior with their voices alone. “We didn’t babysit you, Y/N, we took care of you. We are still taking care of you not because we think we’re obligated to, but because you are our baby cousin. The only family we have left and someone is threatening that, threatening you, and if you think that doesn’t haunt us every time you’re out of our sight, then you’re wrong. I’d do this for Jeonghan too if I had to, I’d even do it for myself, as long as all of us are safe and alive. You want to make a mess of Kim Taehyung? Go ahead, turn his life upside down if you want to, so long as you stay under their protection.”

“I don’t want protection, Joongki.” You look back at his face with a trembling lip. “I want freedom. I want to walk down the street without your men trailing me or the fear of looking back and finding that someone else is. This is your world, not mine. This was our parents world, it wasn’t ours until they were gone. They wanted more for us, Joongki, don’t you remember that?”

“I remember their broken and bloodied bodies when they crossed the wrong person. I remember their pale, lifeless faces in their caskets as you curled up in grandfather’s lap and fought your sleep for weeks afterwards. I remember the way you screamed every time you shut your eyes because all you could see was ‘the bad man with a gun’. I remember promising grandfather that I would do whatever it took to keep you and Jeonghan from suffering the same fate that our parents did.”

You turn away from him to peer out of the window, seeing the guests that consisted solely of friends and family on Taehyung’s side. Children ran across the yard, parents scolded them for dirtying their clothes, and as you glanced around you spotted Taehyung. He was standing with Jungkook, a man he kept close to his side out of trust, nodding along to whatever Jungkook was saying. There was no denying how handsome Taehyung was, or the way it sent shivers up your spine when a little girl ran to him and he scooped her up without hesitation. You didn’t know what the little girl was excited about, but you could guess it had to do with your soon to be husband with the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes. His eyes were warm when he looked at her, accepting the little flower she’d picked from the garden around the side of the house. He tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket, right where his heart was, and patted it gently in promise to keep it on. He set her down and she ran off with a giggle and a blush across her cheeks. You were staring too long, you knew, because he felt it. Taehyung peered up at the window in time to catch you moving away.

“Y/N,” Joongki whispers to catch your attention. “Please don’t be stubborn about this. Taehyung’s family may run in the same circles as our parents, but they’ve always been kind to us. My refusal to bring the families closer didn’t stop them from keeping a relationship with us.”

“Maybe it’s out of pity.” You try one last time to get under his skin, but you know better than anyone that he’s tired. Tired and defeated and hanging on by a thread.

“Even if it was out of pity, that’s something we can use right now.” He comes up behind you, smoothing down the back of your hair and leaving a kiss to the top of your head. He presses his forehead to the spot he just kissed and sighs. “Mr. Kim could think the lowest of me and the mess I’ve made of our family’s reputation, and I’d still take his help if it meant I didn’t lose you or my brother.”

-------------------------------------------------

“You know, eventually,” Jimin sighs tiredly, trailing behind Taehyung as they walk into the house, “people are going to call the cops for kidnapping.”

“The cops aren’t stupid enough to go against our family,” Taehyung grunts out, the squirming and fidgeting nearly made him lose his grip more than once. It was admirable, at first, when you’d begun thrashing against him, believing you could truly break free. Now, it was a nuisance, and he promptly drops you on your ass in the middle of the living room.

“Asshole!” You seethe, jumping back to your feet and wincing at your sore bottom. You have no idea what set Taehyung off at the mall, but you’re pissed that he ruined the first outing you were actually excited about. One minute, you were browsing through your favorite section at the bookstore, and the next, he was dragging you out by the hand. In the car on the way over, he hadn’t spoken a word, refusing to explain himself, so you refused to get out of the car when Jungkook pulled into the driveway. Apparently, Taehyung wasn’t so mad that he couldn’t throw you over his shoulder and march into the house.

“Jesus, Taehyung, what the hell is your problem?!”

“Who was he?” Taehyung demands, shooing Jimin and Jungkook to the other room. He grits his teeth when Jungkook hesitates to move. ”Jeon Jungkook, did I or did I not tell you leave?”

“You’re pissed, Taehyung, and look like you could tear someone’s head off,” Jungkook fires right back and looks past his boss to you. You may not be afraid of Taehyung’s temper, but Jungkook is. He’s seen what Taehyung and his temper could do to things and people, and he’ll be damned if you end up hurt because of it.

“That head could be yours if you don’t get the hell out of my sight,” Taehyung snaps, “go!”

“Go, Kook,” you agree with Taehyung. You’ve never seen him go at Jungkook like this and it isn’t helping if Jungkook keeps defying Taehyung, so removing him from the situation seems like the logical answer at the moment. “It’s ok. Just go, please.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw and turns to leave with much reluctance. He’s out of sight but not out of ear shot when Jimin meets him halfway. “He’s going to hurt her, you and I both know that.”

“It’s not as serious as you think.” Jimins pats his shoulder, reassuring him that everything will be fine. “You know that someone’s been circling the house, and had Y/N not insisted on going out today, then Taehyung wouldn’t have been so on edge to start with. There’s too many people at the mall, too many entrances and exits, too many cracks to be slipped through, too many opportunities for someone to get at Y/N if they tried. Trust me, Jungkookie, this anger that you think Taehyung has is actually fear, okay? So leave them be to hash it out and we’ll go running in the second something seems off.”

Back in the living room, Taehyung is pacing, running a hand down his face, and seeming like he’s having trouble putting into words what exactly he’s upset about. When he finally stops, it’s simply to stalk towards you and stand toe to toe. “Why are there rules, princess, hm? Why do I tell you to stick to Jungkook and Jimin like glue when we’re out? Why do you think I stick to you like fucking glue when we’re out?”

“Oh, so it’s ‘princess’ now?” you scoff. “A minute ago, you wouldn’t say a damn thing, but now you’re asking me to recite some bogus ass rules like I’m in primary school. You don’t get to be pissed in this situation, Taehyung, not when I’m the one who’s getting zero explanation for your outburst.”

“I don’t need to explain myself,” he raises his voice, not quite yelling. “I need you to fucking listen when one of us tells you to do something. The guys aren’t here for decoration, Y/N, they’re here to keep you safe, but they can’t do that when you insist on being a brat.”

“I’m not a fucking brat!” you screech loud enough for half the world to hear. It’s actually surprising that Taehyung’s eardrum didn’t burst.

“Well, you’re not exactly a fucking saint,” Taehyung counters and it’s your turn to start pacing, your hands gripping onto the roots of your hair.

“Oh, my God,” you laugh humorlessly, “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God, Kim Taehyung! You irritating, overbearing, senseless piece of---.” You don’t know what possesses you to swing your hand out, palm open, and try to slap his face.

He catches your wrist, sees the immediate regret in your eyes, yet still hauls you to the nearby wall. He presses you to the plastered surface, using his free hand to box you in so you can’t run away. Truthfully, he’d let go the second you ask, but a line has to be drawn. You have to, absolutely have to start listening to him and the other guys, otherwise something could go very, very wrong.

“Want to hit me, princess?” he hisses inches from your face as he leans in. “Want to get violent because you can’t do whatever you want anymore? That’s pretty ironic for someone who cried at the mere thought of being hit. I can barely raise my hand to you, but you can swing at me all you want, is that it? That’s not how it works, princess, I suggest you learn that real quick. Now you owe me something for trying to hit me. I let that shit go when you first kneed me in the balls, so it’s more like you owe me two, but I’m nice enough to collect on just one. Tell me who your little friend was in the bookstore.”

You’d like to think you’re not scared, yet it was evident what Taehyung was really capable of when pushed too far. He’s been patient with you, far too patient, and willingly plays along with whatever bullshit you pull for the day. It’s amazing he hasn’t broken your wrist for trying to slap him. Especially, when you know good and well that you wouldn’t hesitate to break his if the roles were reversed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no friend in the bookstore.”

“The guy, princess,” he hisses, momentarily tightening his grip. “The guy in the store that was happily chatting you up. Who was he?”

You wrack your brain for this person he’s talking about and it’s like a cartoon light bulb goes off above your head. “The man who was talking to me about the book in my hand?”

“Yes, that guy.”

“He’s not a friend,” you insist, glaring at your husband, “just some stranger trying to hit on me. Is that what this is about? Some random guy trying to get my number? Your jealousy is really unparalleled, Kim.”

“I wasn’t jealous. Even if I was, you wouldn’t be the one I’d take it out on.That ring on your finger is there for a reason, anyone who can’t respect it or the boundaries it represents won’t live to see the next day. I’m asking about this ‘random’ guy because I don’t think he was random at all, I think he approached you with a purpose.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is afraid of you, Taehyung.” You relax now that he’s calmer than before. The grip on your wrist was loose and he was drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb.

“No, princess, they’re not afraid of me in front of you because they have a hard time believing anyone as gorgeous as you would have anything to do with someone like me.” He slumps against your frame, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you ask with shaky breaths. It wasn’t easy to hold him up and he wasn’t even putting his full weight on you. “Better yet, why didn’t you ask him right then and there?”

“Where do you think he is now, baby?” Taehyung opens his mouth against your neck, working the flesh between his teeth and using his tongue to soothe the sting before he bites down again. He feels your fingers grip his hair, to hold him in place or tug him away, he doesn’t know. He just knows that you haven’t recoiled from his touch yet.

Your head lulls back and your eyes shut on their own accord. Your hand also has a hard time listening to your brain as it reaches out to hook a finger in his belt loop and pull him closer. He obliges, using one knee to part your thighs and press against you. The sudden feel of his muscled thigh putting pressure against your clothed core makes you jump in his hold. When he flexes that muscle, you gasp and buck your hips. So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re riding his thigh, and he’s moving his mouth to the other unmarked side of your neck.

You choose an awfully slow pace for someone trying to get off. Taehyung’s done marking up the skin of your neck with deep shades of purple and can finally pull back a bit to admire you. He presses his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless moan and your face contorts with pleasure. You’re riding him slow, but with a purpose, he realizes, intent on enjoying every single push and pull of your hips. Both of your hands lock together at the nape of his neck and you whimper at your building orgasm. You don’t recall the coil in your belly winding as tight as it is right now with anyone else. No, only Taehyung can evoke this kind of reaction.

You know he can feel the wet patch growing on his pants and you’re thankful that he doesn’t comment on it. In fact, he’s rather quiet for someone who’d been scolding you just moments before. You don’t look at his face, not purposefully ignoring him, but completely mesmerized by the deep onyx color of his pants growing even deeper the wetter it gets. You clench around nothing, nearly sobbing at the empty feeling and rocking your hips just a little bit faster than before. You want more, you need more, you need, “your hand,” you gasp out to him. “I need your hand, Tae, please.”

“I can’t do that ,baby,” he groans at having to deny you, ready to shoot himself in the foot for being all too in control. “If I touch you, I won’t stop.”

“You did before.” You want to cry. You’re probably going to cry soon if you don’t get what you want.

“Barely, princess. I barely controlled myself last time. If I do it now, I’ll take you against this wall, and then every other surface of this house. You’re not ready for that yet. You can do this. Cum against me like this, baby, I know you can.”

You’re close, so fucking close but then...

“Hey, boss-- oh shit, sorry!” Seokjin’s shoes squeak against the tiled floor as he quickly spins around to face literally anywhere but you and Taehyung. “Uh, Namjoon and Hoseok need you for something.”

“What?” Taehyung growls out, watching your entire neck and face flush a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. “What could they possibly fucking need in this exact moment that you can’t handle, Seokjin?”

“Uh, th-they didn’t say,” Seokjin stammers, silently cursing Namjoon and Hoseok for sending him to get Taehyung instead of doing it themselves. Those little bastards had to have known Taehyung was busy. And you. Oh, the look on your face when you saw him hurt his heart. He knows how mortified you feel at having been caught. He can hear the rustling of clothes as you gather yourselves, the panting breaths of two frustrated adults doing adult things, and holy crap Seokjin wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I can tell them you’re busy, if you need me to.”

“No!” you squeak, shoving Taehyung away harder than you meant to, and Seokjin jolts at the octave of your voice. “I mean, no. Tae’s not...Taehyung isn’t busy. I’m-- I have to be...anywhere that’s not here.”

Seokjin hears you run off, the patting of your shoes carries you across the house with speed he didn’t think anyone but an olympic track star had. He doesn’t want to turn around. He’d kill to not have to turn around.

“If this isn’t as urgent as they made it out to be,” Taehyung’s voice is steely, cruel as he approaches Seokjin, “then all 3 of you are getting tossed into the river, do you hear me?”

“Understood.” Seokjin holds his breath while Taehyung shoulders past him, ducking his head down and following close behind.

Yoongi is busy deleting all the footage from the past hour when Taehyung barges in. “I’m already on it, and no, I didn’t watch it. I’m not some greasy perv. None of the other guys were in here either. I kicked them out as soon as you had Jungkook and Jimin leave you two alone.”

“Right now, Yoongi, you and Jimin are the only ones safe from me.” Taehyung leaves feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d at least be spared from the entire house knowing what happened.

Seokjin stops in the doorway of the security room. “You little kiss ass.”

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m doing my job.” Yoongi smirks at him. “It’s not my fault Namjoon and Hobi threw you under the bus.”

“So they did know!” Seokjin has half a mind to pummel the both of them.

“Oh, they knew. Namjoon was actually on his way to the living room when Jimin and Jungkook stopped him.”

“I’ll kill them,” Seokjin swears, “I’ll kill all of them.”

“Seokjin, get your ass over here now!” Taehyung’s voice booms, making Seokjin jump and scurry in his direction.

Namjoon and Hoseok are in the garage, standing a few feet away from the poor bastard tied to a chair. When Taehyung had called them earlier to pick up the guy talking to you at the bookstore, they didn’t imagine he’d look like an average Joe. Guys in the mafia tend to dress nice, carry themselves a certain way, even walk and talk a certain way. But this guy. This guy looks like he could be an accountant or a librarian.

“Man, this is going to really suck if he’s not working for anyone,” Hoseok comments, almost feeling guilty. “He really could be just some guy who saw a pretty girl and tried to get her number.”

“I’d agree if he wasn’t carrying Cecil’s business card.” Namjoon hands the man’s wallet to Hoseok.

“It must be nice to have such a big ego that you’d make professional hitman cards and label them as ‘business’.” Hoseok rifles through the wallet, pulling out credit cards, debit cards, cash, a few photos, until he finally finds a little white paper with Cecil’s number scrawled across it. “I’d hardly call this a business card.”

“Hobi, focus,” Namjoon reminds him, tilting his head in the man’s direction.

“Alright.” Hoseok approaches the man and bends to his sitting height, producing an I.D. card. “Sunho. How do you know Y/N?”

“Who?” Sunho whimpers, blood seeping from his busted lip. “I-I don’t even know who that is.”

“Seemed pretty chummy with her in the bookstore this afternoon.”

“That girl?” Sunho is quick to shake his head. “I just thought she was really cute, that’s all. I didn’t know she was married.”

“Ok, then how do you know Cecil?” Hoseok moves on to the next question without missing a beat.

“I don’t, I swear!”

“Why else would you have his card?” Namjoon asks as the garage door swings open, a very pissed looking Taehyung strolling in a second later. He whistles low and grips the back of Hoseok’s shirt to haul him out of Taehyung’s path.

“Oh, hey, Seokjin.” Hoseok shoots him a teasing smile. “I see you were able to get Taehyung’s attention.”

“I swear to God, I will fuck you up right here and now, Hobi.” Seokjin glares at the younger man before turning his attention to Taehyung and Sunho.

“Sunho,” Taehyung sighs, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I was very, very fucking busy inside my home and I was interrupted before anything productive got done.” He shoots forward and braces his hands on the arms of the chair Sunho is tied to. “So you see, I’m not in the mood for playing games. I’m going to explain to you how this works very carefully. Ready?”

Sunho manages a pathetic nod and Taehyung stands straight while undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves and rolls them up his forearms. He swallows the saliva gathered on his tongue, panic washing over him when Taehyung produces a crowbar from the workbench he’s only now seeing.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Taehyung explains, pointing one end of the crowbar at Sunho. “If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you go. Pay for the hospital bill that’s sure to wrack up given what these two have done to you,” he pauses to point at Namjoon and Hoseok, “and set you up for life as an apology. Sound fair?” He doesn’t wait for Sunho’s reply before continuing. “But if you lie to me, this crowbar will be the least of your worries, definitely one of the less painful weapons in our arson. Now tell me, how do you know Cecil?”

Sunho’s face is covered in tears by the time Taehyung is finished talking. His body shakes with how hard he sobs. “He ap-approached me last month, p-paid me $3,000 to drive a gray Tahoe down whatever street his guys called from. I didn’t think anything of it, until it got really weird. I noticed they’d only call me once a day at 2 or 2:30, tell me to wait at the end of your block until it hit 3 on the hour and then drive past the gate. They gave me your wife’s picture and told me to keep an eye out for her. When I realized they were stalking her, I thought I should warn her.”

“So you followed us to the mall?” Taehyung asks, crouching down to look Sunho in the eye. He uses the end of the crowbar to lift Sunho’s chin up. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what I could say,” Sunho sobs harder. “I mean, I-I was helping them stalk her. She’d think I was crazy if I just came right out and said it. So, I just walked up and asked her about the book she had. I didn’t know what the fucking title was, I just knew she had to be warned. I didn’t get that far before you came up and took her away.”

“Did Cecil tell you what he wanted with her?”

“No. Just to drive the car and watch out for her.”

Taehyung looks back to Hoseok, taking the picture from his outstretched hand. He observes the photo quietly. “These your kids, Sunho?”

“Yes.” Sunho’s bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t hurt them! Please! They’re just kids to a shitty father drowning in debt. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Did Cecil threaten them?” Seokjin comes up behind Taehyung, scanning the faces of two kids that couldn’t more than 8 and 10 years old.

“He said I could either take the job willingly,” Sunho cries, snot and tears mixing together at his top lip, “or I could watch him torture my kids until I accept it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Their grandparents’ house. Their mother died 3 years ago, it’s just me and them. I gave them to their grandmother the same day Cecil came to me.”

“Why you?” Hoseok wonders aloud. “There’s professionals out there to get jobs like this done. Hell, even Cecil’s guys, as dumb as they are, could do a better job than you did. Their morality wouldn’t get in the way either, that’s for sure. So what makes you so special for a job like this?”

“My kids’ mother.” Sunho releases a fresh round of tears. “She was a girl he’d taken care of in her teenage years when she was a waitress at some dingy dive bar. There was an accident 3 years ago. A head on collision with a drunk driver. Cecil hates that I survived but she didn’t. This is his way of getting back at me, I guess.”

Taehyung stands, makes his way to the workbench, and drops the crowbar on it. He braces his hands against the bench as Namjoon steps up next to him. “Yoongi?”

“Pulled up hospital records, a death certificate, and foreclosure notices on the house,” Namjoon confirms Sunho’s story. “It all checks out.”

“Get the kids, take Sunho, and get them as far away from here as possible. We’ll clean up his debt and set him up with enough to get himself started again.” Taehyung nods at Namjoon, but stops him before he gets too far away. “You make sure he understands that he needs to get his shit together. And to call us if anything happens, we’ll move his family again if we have to. Go.”

Namjoon gestures Hoseok to follow his lead, untying Sunho and ushering him into one of the many SUVs in the garage. He slides into the driver’s seat as Hoseok jumps into the passenger side, and he backs out of the garage to start his orders.

“Think Cecil would know we’d look into Sunho and set up fake accounts?” Seokjin asks Taehyung, following him on their way out of the garage.

“Yoongi will catch it if anything is fake.” Taehyung undoes the top three buttons on his dress shirt. It’s late, he’s exhausted, and he just wants to climb into bed next to you as soon as possible.

“Do you think Cecil’s after Y/N herself, or just trying to get to the Seong brothers?”

“We’ll be finding out soon.” Taehyung claps Seokjin on the shoulder before going his separate way. “And yes, Seokjin, it was important, so you can sleep peacefully knowing that you get to see tomorrow.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king size bed, crossword book out, and pencil scribbling across the empty spaces, when Taehyung comes back into the room. You want to say something, want to talk about what happened, but it wasn’t the first time the two of you had gotten a little too carried away. Well, more so you than him earlier when you’d begged for his touch, and then Seokjin had walked in. You’ve never, in your entire life, been more humiliated and turned on at the same time, and some part of your brain insists that it really wouldn’t have been bad if Seokjin hadn’t interrupted. You certainly wouldn’t have had to take a cold shower, that’s for sure.

“You’re still up,” Taehyung comments softly as if he hadn’t seen the light peeking out from underneath the door. He’d dismissed Jungkook before opening the door, expecting you to have simply fallen asleep while reading as usual. He’s unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders when his ears pick up the rustling of bedsheets.

His back muscles flex with each move and you bite down on your tongue for composure. “You didn’t apologize to Kook for snapping at him earlier.”

“Jungkook understands that when he’s told to do something, he does it. If he wants to fight back against his orders and be a rebel, then he’s going to be treated as such.” Taehyung unclasps the watch on his wrist, setting it down on the dresser. “If sometimes I go too far, they don’t expect an apology.”

“Because you don’t know how to give one?” Your tone is sarcastic and it makes him smile even though you can’t see his face. “Or you just don’t want to?”

“Because I don’t need to.” His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling the leather band and sliding it out from the loops of his pants. “We’ve been a tight group for a long time, but I’m still their boss and sometimes I need to be more strict than usual. The fact that Jungkook hasn’t been strung up by his feet and left to bleed out for arguing with me earlier says a lot already.”

“I know,” you answer immediately, having seen that very scenario dozens of times before either by accident or because your grandfather wanted to remind you and your cousins of what happens to people that can no longer be trusted. “This is the only time Jungkook’s gone against you, Taehyung, you know that.”

Taehyung whirls around to face you, understanding and patience written all over his face. “I need to make sure that it stays the only time he’ll go against me. The only reason he isn’t dead now is because it was on your behalf, which is his job. Yes, it’s unfair of me to be pissed at him for doing exactly what he’s supposed to, but when you’re with me there’s nothing to be afraid of and he needs to understand that.”

“Something in you scared him today,” you argue as he turns back to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and plain gray t-shirt. “Something in you scared me. It’s like a switch went off inside of your head and you became an entirely different person.”

“I am who I need to be when the situation calls for it.” Taehyung steps up to the bed and braces one arm on the mattress as he leans closer, touching his forehead to yours. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess, that’s my fault and I’m sorry. I want to say you’ll never have to see it again, but you know as well as I do that it would be a lie. What I can tell you is that it won’t always happen, I swear that to you. Right now, with whatever Joongki and Jeonghan have going on, and the spike in threats against your family, the boys and I are on edge more than normal.” He cups your face with his other hand after dropping his spare clothes to the bed. “It won’t always be this way.”

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life to have fallen into the Kim family, or what you did to deserve one of the rarer, kinder mafia bosses that is Kim Taehyung. You’ve come to realize that you don’t hate Taehyung or any of the boys, but you hate the circumstances behind your being in his home. You’ve always detested this life and after your grandfather’s death, you vowed to get away from it. You didn’t take into account how quick Joongki would jump to throw you under lock and key, only ever gifting the small amount of freedom that came with having to attend your full time job.

Taehyung hadn’t expected your kiss, the soft press of your lips against his and the touch of your fingers wrapping around his wrist has goosebumps rising on his skin. You don’t kiss him often, only when you’re out at a charity event or at dinner with his parents, and even then it’s a small peck to keep up appearances. You push your tongue against his and he groans, slipping his fingers into your hair and stepping back as you rise up to your knees. The soft pads of your fingers trace up the path of his jawline until they tangle in his soft black locks, and then you’re tugging on the strands to tip his head back.

His other hand is at your hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shirt to rub circles in your skin. He doesn’t know what brought on this sudden affection, but he isn’t complaining. Your fingers card through his hair, one hand tracing down the broad plain of his chest and bare skin burning the tips of your fingers as they reach the waistband of his pants. He hisses out a small ‘fuck’ against your mouth when your hand slips into his boxers, toying with the length of him. Holy shit, he’s huge, and you moan into another kiss as you have a hard time wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s thick and long, you note, using the tips of your nails to gently trace the veins running along his shaft. Precum pools at the tip and you circle your thumb around him to gather enough of it before pumping your hand down, then back up, and then back down again.

“What are you doing, princess?” Taehyung nearly chokes on the words as he pulls away from the kiss. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and he’s very near collapsing to his knees if you keep this up. He grits his teeth as the hand in his hair dives into his boxers to join the other, pumping along his cock in tandem. His fingers tighten in your hair, twisting the locks at the base of your neck and you gasp gently at the feeling.

“Earlier, in the living room,” you whisper against his lips, “I was so close to coming against your thigh, but then Seokjin walked in.”

“To be fair,” he growls out and bucks his hips against your hands, “I threatened to kill him for it, so---.” He does choke this time as you squeeze him just a little harder.

“You know what happened when I came back to the room, Tae?” You give him a sweet smile, but you know he can see the devious intentions behind it. “I got stuck having to take a cold shower. I’d blame Jin, but you’re the one who started it, aren’t you?”

“Baby,” he groans, “please don’t---.”

You’re pulling back, taking your hands with you, and falling back onto the mattress before he can finish his plea. You bounce slightly against the bed as you giggle at the death glare he gives you, his chest is heaving and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. “Not so fun when it’s you, is it, Tae?”

Taehyung heaves out a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. I take responsibility for leaving you the way I did.” He snatches your ankles, chuckling at the yelp that leaves you, and drags you down the bed. He spreads your thighs to make room for his hips and rocks against you. The thin material of your pajama pants does nothing to shield the feeling of his hard on pushing against your clothed core. You still feel every inch of him and your mouth drops open as he grinds his hips. “But what you call punishment, I call a reward, princess.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, his laugh echoing from the bathroom, and you bolt up to hurl a pillow at the door. Why is he so much better at this than you are?!

---------------------------------------------

Taehyung’s home is gorgeous. Well, you suppose it’s your home now too, but the fact that you’re about to be thrown into a house full of strange men and monitored 24 hours a day, doesn’t take away from its beauty. You thought the security gates were a little much when Jungkook first drove through them, yet it’s clear now why they’re necessary. A two story estate looms over you as Jungkook opens the SUV door so you can climb out.

“Welcome home, princess.” Taehyung stands in the middle of the foyer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants. He’d had every intention of being with you in that SUV after the reception, but his father had hauled him away for some ‘unfinished business’ with the Ahn family.

“More like a prison,” you mutter while Jungkook takes the backpack hanging from your shoulder. He hoists it over his own and grabs the handle of your rolling suitcase, waiting to see what your next move is. “The word ‘home’ doesn’t exactly come to mind, Kim.”

Taehyung hums, crossing the foyer in quick strides before he’s gripping your chin and pulling you so close that you stand on the tips of your toes. He feels the clenching of your jaw against his fingers and briefly worries that you’ll end up chipping a tooth with how hard you grind your teeth together. “Call it what you want, Y/N, but this is where you’ll be for a very long time. I suggest you get used to it.”

“Boss.” Jungkook clears his throat, eyes darting to the strong grip Taehyung has on your face before they’re matching his gaze. The slight tilting of his head serves as a warning and Taehyung nods in recognition before releasing his hold. When Jungkook had first been told that he would be your personal guard from now on, he vowed to do his best, even if it meant going against Taehyung from time to time.

You sneer at Taehyung when he smiles at Jungkook. Whatever passes between them in the look they share is unclear, and it bothers you. If Taehyung’s rough handling was meant to scare you, and Jungkook’s swift response to it was meant to deter that fear, then they were both failing. Miserably. It’s not that you’re afraid of Taehyung, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s how quick he can be at changing his entire persona in a matter of seconds.

Jungkook puts his free hand on the small of your back to guide you forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living room. He watches you scan the surroundings, gaze lingering a little too long on the loose objects Taehyung has chosen to decorate with. He makes a mental note to have those removed for the time being until you’re settled in enough to not try and kill Taehyung. It’s understandable that you’re frustrated, and angry, and hurt, but it’s also easy for those feelings to boil over and turn into something disastrous. He leads you through the room to the adjoining dining room, then the kitchen, and finally stopping at a door.

“It’s your room,” he explains as he opens the door and shuffles inside the much too big room meant for you. It’s bigger than the entirety of your last two apartments combined. He sets your backpack on the bed before rolling your suitcase over to the dresser in the corner of the room. Leaving the suitcase be for you to unpack at your leisure, he moves for the bathroom that you didn’t even notice was there at first. He comes out soon after and pulls open the doors to the walk-in closet, scanning it from top to bottom.

He’s checking for anything out of place, you realize, as Jungkook seems satisfied enough to make his way back to you. He isn’t anything like you imagined Taehyung’s men would be, the first couple of encounters with him should have been enough to tell you that. You had just been so adamant in hating this part of it to realize that Jungkook would most likely end up being your only friend. Your actual friends weren’t invited to the wedding out of fear of who may have been there. Exposing them to this life was never an option and you’d been doing a damn fine job of it since high school. Until Jeonghan had spilled the beans about your upcoming nuptials and the girls became giddy. Their faces had dropped when you lied that only a handful of people could attend, and they weren’t on the guest list. It took weeks of groveling for them to finally cave and forgive you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. He quirks a brow when you shake your head in apology. “Are you alright?”

“I was just thinking,” you say, letting your eyes float around the room once more. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

“Not just for checking the room,” you clarify, “but for not making me feel so out of place. I really appreciate it.”

“Jungkookie’s always been good at making people comfortable,” a voice has you spinning around quickly, a hand pressed to your racing heart. The owner of the voice beams like he’s just won the lottery, clearly amused at successfully scaring you. “Y/N. I’m Park Jimin. I’ll be accompanying you and Jungkook every time we leave the grounds.”

“Right,” you heave. Catching your breath seems to be a new level of difficulty for some reason. Well, there was one reason, actually.

Taehyung had been right behind you and Jungkook the entire time. Quietly observing you and the reaction you’d have to the house. He’d also been leaning against the doorjamb while Jungkook combed through the room. Which means he’d also heard your gratitude for the younger man and you pale at the thought of what might happen to Jungkook now. Not all bosses like when their wives become chummy with other men, especially if it’s a man they trust, and you fear you may have gotten Jungkook in trouble.

“Do you think of Jungkookie as comfortable, princess?” Taehyung pins you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. He sees the look of panic in your eyes as you struggle for words. When you open your mouth to answer, he cuts you off with a stern, “Don’t. Lie. To me.”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, clenching your hands into fists. Fear runs down your spine when Taehyung pushes away from the door and draws near. You flinch when his hand reaches out, your body going stiff to brace for the sting of his palm against your cheek. But he doesn’t hit you, his hand frozen mid-air at your reaction. It’s when you feel the slight tug on a single strand of hair that you realize he’d meant to pet your head. You meet his eyes with tears welling in your own, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths.

“I’d never hurt you, Y/N,” Taehyung whispers, reaching out once more to graze the backs of his fingers against your cheek. The wet heat of a single tear sliding down your face catches on his knuckles and he grits his teeth. “Has anyone ever hit you before?”

Jungkook and Jimin immediately come closer to hear your answer. If anyone had ever laid a hand on you, they wouldn’t wait for Taehyung’s order to find and kill whoever it was. You aren’t just the boss’ wife, you’re theirs to protect now, and they intend on doing just that.

“No.” You turn away from Taehyung’s touch, drawing back to both create some much needed space, and to reel in the flood of emotions you didn’t expect to feel. Being a leader in a crime syndicate meant being vicious and violent, even to your own family if it proved a point. Taehyung was neither of those things, a heavy reminder of how gentle your father and grandfather would be with any woman or girl important to them. “No one’s ever...it’s just something I’ve seen many times before, is all.”

“To someone important?”

“To people who were people and deserved to be treated as such. Not like the punching bags they became because their boss couldn’t push aside his pride or ego.” You take another step back only to bump into Jungkook’s chest. Damn it. Too many people surround you, too many are witness to how easily you can crumble, and you want them out. You want room to breathe and catch your bearings. You also want the privacy to unpack your stuff.

“Out,” Taehyung demands from Jungkook and Jimin, neither men hesitate to do as they’ve been told. He moves for the door right after them, hesitating with his hand on the knob. Looking back over his shoulder, he sees you pulling a laptop from your backpack, along with a few romance novels and a jumbo book of crossword puzzles.

“Jimin isn’t the only one of the members you’ll be meeting today,” the softness of Taehyung’s voice makes your chest tight as you look up at him. “There’s 3 others roaming around here somewhere and another that’s away on an assignment, but he’ll be back soon.”

You nod your understanding, picking up a book to occupy your hands to keep your fingers from picking at the cuticles of your nails. It was something you’d always done when you got nervous, a bad habit that needed to be gotten rid of.

“I don’t want to do this to you, princess,” he states it like an apology as you draw your brows together in confusion, “but I’m going to take your laptop and phone.”

“Why?” One hand immediately falls to the computer he’s stepping back into the room for. You almost wrestle it away when his long fingers swipe it from the bed. “It’s important, Taehyung. I use it to edit my friend’s photos. She’s a photographer and I help her clean them up when she needs it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He grips the computer closer to his side and holds his palm out. “You’ll get it back soon, I promise. I need your phone.”

“What if Joongki and Jeonghan call?” you scoff, because of fucking course Taehyung knows what you do in your spare time. “They’ll get worried if I don’t answer.”

“That’s a pretty weak excuse given how you tore into them after the reception. I might not have left with you, but I heard all about the way you swore you wouldn’t be speaking to your cousins anytime soon.”

“My friends will think I’m dead if I don’t answer their texts.”

“Your friends,” Taehyung steps closer and leans in, hovering inches away from your lips, “know that you got married today. They know that you’ll be occupied with your new husband. I can bet they’re wondering what you’re doing right this second, but can’t bring themselves to ask lest they interrupt what may be going on.”

Your back hits a wall you hadn’t realized he’d been backing you into. He’s not close enough to touch, yet that’s exactly what you want to do and find yourself pressing the book in your hand to his chest instead.

“I bet they’re wondering if you’re enjoying yourself,” he continues, pressing his forehead against yours. The back of your head thumps against the wall gently with the pressure as he uses it to keep your eyes on him. “They’re wondering if your new groom satisfies you enough, princess. If he’s kissing you like you deserve to be, touching you in all the right places,” his free hand clamps onto your waist, thumb dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to feel your skin, “if he’s able to hit that right spot inside of you over, and over, and over.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slides higher beneath the t-shirt you’d stupidly changed into before coming to the house. His fingers are hot against your skin as they’re splayed along your ribcage.

“I can do all of that for you if you’ll let me, princess,” Taehyung growls without meaning to. He’d only meant to distract you enough to take your phone. However, he’d somehow managed to arouse both himself and you with the way you clench your thighs together. Still, even knowing how turned on you are, he doesn’t press any closer than he already is. His hand doesn’t move any further up your torso though his thumb still rubs smooth circles on your skin. “I can make you feel so good, you’d forget your own name.”

You inhale sharply. You know he can and that he’d be the best you ever had. But giving in now, on your very first hour inside the new house, would be grounds for Taehyung to think you’re actually on board with this whole thing. So you do what you do best, argue. “You really think so highly of yourself, huh, Kim? I’m pretty sure I’ve had better.”

“Don’t push buttons when you don’t understand the consequences,” he whispers darkly, “or throw out empty challenges like that. I might be inclined to take them if you keep it up.”

You open your mouth to fight back, but a yelp comes out instead when his hand rips itself from underneath your shirt and is swiping the phone from your back pocket quickly. You aren’t prepared for him to reel back soon after, nearly losing your balance without him there to hold you up. “Taehyung, what the hell?!”

Taehyung smirks in victory, the phone and laptop in his hands, before he turns around and saunters to the door. “Disappointed, baby? All you have to do is ask and I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

Jungkook and Jimin are standing just outside, backs pressed to the opposite wall, and they both jump when the sound of glass shattering against wood follows Taehyung closing the door behind him. Jungkook wants to check on you, but the satisfied look on Taehyung’s face lets him know that you meant to break whatever had hit the door. “Uh, boss?”

Taehyung hands the laptop and phone to Jimin, who was looking at him with raised brows. “Give these to Yoongi, tell him to go through them, delete anything that can be used to track either device, and have him install the tracking app he created in her phone. I want us, and only us, to be able to access the app. If, for whatever reason, Yoongi feels like someone outside of the seven of us should be able to tap into it, I want to know who and why first. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin disappears with the phone and computer, leaving behind a chuckle that has Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and Kook,” Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder with a mischievous grin, “buy Y/N a new perfume bottle. She seems to have broken her last one.”

#kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts mafia smut #kim taehyung mafia smut

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult.

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better.

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face.

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions.

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery.

Wait, hold up, it gets worse.

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that.

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance. I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

Text

I gave you my heart (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Harry is trying to propose to you, but his family is getting in the way.

Warnings: Fluff. Angst if you really pay attention. Language. Mentions of alcohol (barely) Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, sorry!)

Word count: 4.1 K

Author’s Note: Oh how I missed writing for Harry! And a fluffy piece nonetheless! Who am I? Well, this is a Holiday fic (non specific) and I’m also planning to do a 5SOS holiday fic by the end of the year, so stay tuned! 🌻 Reblogs, comments, feedbacks and likes are welcomed and encouraged! Please, I love to hear from you guys 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋✨

My materialist // wanna be on my tag list?

Picture form Pinterest. Title from the song “last Christmas”

Ok i know this is cheesy but hear me out, Harry proposing on Christmas with his family around.

Harry kneeled in front of you. His hands were intertwined with yours as he spoke of all the grand adventures you had and how much he adores you while your eyes filled with glossy cold tears. He couldn’t see his mum from where he was, but he could already tell she started crying as well while Gemma held her in a side hug, watching the scene they never thought would happen being displayed in front of them.

Words of praise left his mouth like a symphony, knowing that he will never get tired of praising you as the angel you were. Tears started forming in his eyes as he promised you a lifetime of love and adventure, hoping with all his heart you would say yes.

They all knew the question that was going to pop out of his lips any time now.

“So, Y/N L/N” He said, as the fireworks started to go off behind them “Will you marry me?”

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and with a smile you answered:

“You better wake up before I leave you in the car”

Harry opened his eyes in shock, cursing under his breath as he realized he had fallen asleep without realizing.

You were on your way to Anne’s house for the Holidays, just like you promised a few months ago when Harry finalized all his tour arrangements. You were very excited to see Harry’s family again, it has been a while since you got to spend any time with them as you accompanied Harry across the world for the most part of the past year. You love them with all your heart and it comforts you to know that the feeling is completely mutual - Anne practically adopting you the minute you came through the door as Harry’s partner a few years ago and Gemma quickly becoming your best friend over the span of a few minutes, bonding over clothes, movies and embarassing Harry stories.

Harry loved how much you and his family love each other, for that is all he asked. For him there are only three things that matter most: His music and his fans; His family and, of course, you. He felt really blessed to have you in his life during all these years, knowing that you love him just as much as he loves you (although he would always fight that he loves you more) You were his rock, his best friend, his world… and he cannot wait to put a rock on that hand to prove that to you.

He got the ring a few months prior, but he knew he wanted to marry you from the first moment he saw you interact with his family. He still remembers that cold December night when he came downstairs looking for you and you were sleeping on the couch next to Gemma. You have been talking all night and were exhausted by the time you both finished that bottle of wine. He stood on the entrance of the living room watching the cozy scene with a smile plastered across his face. He knew he loved you back then, but his happiness at that moment was unmatched.

He was so entranced by the picture that he didn’t notice Anne standing beside him.

“This one’s a keeper” She said in a low voice as she watched you both with tenderness in her eyes. But Harry already knew that.

And now, as you were driving the cold snowy roads of Cheshire, Harry drifted back from his fantasy waiting to come true. Thinking back and forward of the little velvet box that is hidden in his suitcase.

“Sorry,” He said with a yawn “Didn’t notice I fell asleep”

You smiled at him but kept your eyes on the road “It’s okay, love. I know you must be tired of the trip. That is why I asked you to switch seats and let me drive in the first place”

Harry stared at you for a moment, completely enamored by your thoughtfulness. He really was lucky to have you.

“Besides,” You joke “With your driving skills, we might get to Homes Chapel the day after the Holidays if we are lucky”

Harry rolled his eyes “Oh, bug off!” He said as he mocked annoyance, but his laugher soon joined yours as you continued your way towards his childhood home.

You let out a happy squeal once you noticed Anne standing in front of her house from a distance, wasting no time on parking the car so you could run up to her and hug her.

“Aww I’m so glad you’re finally here!” Said the matriarch of the Styles’ family as she crushed your body in a tight hug “I’m never letting you go a year without visiting us again!”

“It will not happen again! I promise” You answered with a laugh.

She let you go just enough so she could place her palm on your cheek, caressing it in a motherly way “You better! And in any case you could always run away from my son and come stay here for as long as you want!”

This is when Harry decided to interject. He was standing behind you, smiling at the exchange that was happening in front of him.

“Oi! No need for that now, mum”

Anne laughed as she went to hug her son, murmuring about how if he doesn’t keep an eye on you she would steal you from him without a second thought.

After a few more greetings, Anne ushered you into the house. The warm environment and the smell of a homemade meal made you feel at home.

You always loved to come and visit Harry’s childhood home. It reminded you of him, the real Harry you got to know on a more personal and deep level. The Harry that let all his walls down and let you in, welcoming you to his house, his family and friends and into his heart. The Harry you love with all your being.

“‘m gonna head and help mum with dinner” Your boyfriend said as he hung his coat by the door “You’ve been driving all day, love. You should rest”

He pressed his chest to your back and rounded his arms around your waist to hold you closer before placing a kiss to the shell of your ear. You hummed “‘m not tired. I don’t think I could rest till much later.”

“Still,” Harry said “At least try to rest? Don’t want you to feel sick and I know you’ll hate to miss all the traditions”

You sighed “At least that way I’ll get you to take care of me, right?” You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Always, darling”

You placed a couple little chaste kisses to his lips, pulling away from his grasp before he started to try and deepend them as he always does “‘m gonna go unpack my suitcase then. Want me to unpack yours?”

Harry was about to answer when the alarms in his head went off, reminding him of the little box you should definitely not find “Uh, n-no. I have to show something to my mum” He lied “I’ll unpack my stuff later. Thank you, though”

His response got you a little confused, but you just shrug your shoulders and turned around towards the guest room, aka: Harry’s old room. Letting Harry let out a relief breath once you went out of sight. This was going to be a long holiday.

Gemma arrived later that night. She didn’t even put her luggage on the ground before she caught your eye and ran to hug you.

“Oh my god” She said, hugging you tighter “I have so much to tell you!”

“Oh sure,” Harry said, walking towards her as she almost left you out of breath “I’m just your brother who you haven’t seen in a long time… Why should I get a hug?”

The older Styles rolled her eyes “Because I see you in every social media post there is you dork! Besides, I have had Y/N in my life rather recently compared to living with you under the same roof for almost seventeen years”

Harry placed his hand over his heart and mocked a hurt expression, making his sister laugh before she moved on to wrap him into a hug.

“I missed you, you wanker” She said, hiding some love in the insult.

“Me too, jerk”

“But I missed Y/N more” She said with a grin, pulling away from Harry and turning back to you. Intertwining your arms so you’d walk together into the living room “So, I was telling you…”

Hours flew by and before you’d realized it was almost 2 am when you and Gemma made your ways to your respected rooms. You noticed that Harry went to bed a little earlier and you guessed he would be asleep by now.

You found your boyfriend safe and tucked away in dreams once you opened the door. You smiled to yourself as you admired his sleeping figure sprawled all over the bed with one arm spread over your side, waiting for you to cuddle up against it.

A yawn flew through you as the exhaustion of the day settled in. You quickly changed into your cozy pajamas, did your nighttime routine and layed in bed next to Harry, who, as soon as he felt you by his side, pulled your body closer to him.

“Hi” He said in a whisper, kissing the shell of your ear.

“I thought you were sleeping, H” You giggled as you felt his hand caress your side.

“Couldn’t sleep well without you, you know that”

And indeed you did. Harry always complained whenever he was on tour that he missed you too much and that he needed you even more “I just feel better when I’m with you, love. I do better. It’s like you are my lucky charm or something” He’d always said before he convinced you to travel the world with him. And, to be honest, you did not need that much convincing. If you could spend all your living days with Harry, you would.

“Wha’ time is it anyways?” He asked.

“Late” You shrugged, turning your body so you were facing him “I’m sorry. We didn’t realize we spent all night talking”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows “Why are you apologizing for? I love when you spend time with my family”

“But I almost didn’t spend time with you!”

Harry chuckled “It’s okay, love. I know how my mum and sister can get whenever you are around. They love you almost as much as I do”

“Well, Gemma did say she loved me more....” You teased, making Harry scoff.

“Not possible” He pressed his lips to yours, trying to make your worry disappear “‘m serious, though. Don’t be sorry for spending too much time with them. I swear it 's fine. We could have time for ourselves at any point of the Holiday”

You murmured a soft ‘okay’ before drifting into a peaceful sleep. Harry watched you sleep for a few minutes, taking in the joyful peace that your presence gifted to him whenever you were around. Thinking about how he cannot wait to make you an official Styles.

However, that was not going to be an easy job.

As the day passed, you and Harry had less and less time for yourselves as Anne and Gemma got you two completely busy with different activities. From getting the groceries, to help one of them decorate the house or even to just take a walk. You were never not doing something.

And it wasn’t like a bad thing either. On the contrary, you were having the time of your life sharing all of these amazing traditions with Harry’s family. They made you feel welcome and cared for, something that was fairly new to you since you met Harry.

You loved decorating the House and baking cookies with Anne, and it felt so great to have a friend like Gemma around to take the seriousness out of a serious situation and just let you have your fun. But you would be lying if you’d say that you don’t miss your boyfriend.

Even though Harry was always just mere feet from you, he was also caught up in various activities and could barely spend any time with you and that was making him frustrated.

The Holidays were stressful enough, but for Harry this took a whole other level when he thought about the proposal and how many times he failed at getting you two alone so he could do it.

The first miss opportunity came when it started snowing the day after your arrival. He knew how much you loved snow because, in your own words, it made it all seem magical. So when he woke up early that day, he decided that now was the time and that he was ready to pop up the big question. He was going to ask you to play in the snow - just like you usually do - and make a snowman. But the surprise would come with the ring that would be on the snowman’s finger, ready to be placed on your hand if you said yes. Sadly, when you two got ready to go and play, Anne solicited yours and Harry’s help to go and take some food to the shelter that was not so far away from here, a tradition the Styles’ family have been doing since Harry was a baby. When you came back, most of the snow had melted and you were too tired to even think of going outside again.

The second time Harry’s plan got held up was on a frosty night. He had prepared a cozy inside picnic in front of the fireplace for only you and him. He knew that Anne would be out with some of her friends and that Gemma had plans to meet up with someone on a date, so they wouldn’t be able to interrupt in any way. He got a bottle of wine, a charcuterie board, some chocolate covered strawberries, a fluffy blanket and some candles to light up the dark room. He also made you change in your pajamas so you’ll be even more comfortable during the date. Everything went according to plan, his hand almost reaching for the velvet box he hid under one of the couch’s cushions when Gemma came early from her date, completely ruining the moment as she came into the room fuming because she got stood up. Needless to say he did not propose that night.

Harry was convinced that the third time was the charm. Since it was obvious he couldn’t propose in the house without being rudely interrupted every time, he was going to take you out for lunch and then go ice skating, one of your favorite winter activities. Yes, he was aware that it wasn’t his most elaborated plans, but he didn’t know what to do. Plus, he had talked to the owner of the ice skating pit beforehand, asking him to please let them have at least one hour of privacy so he could propose in peace. The owner even promised him to play the playlist Harry made for you and to add some special lightning to make the moment more romantic.

Feeling excited, Harry ran down the stairs to give you the news of your date. But his face fell when he saw you getting ready to go out with Gemma and his mum.

“Are you going out?” He asked as he saw you put on your coat.

“Yes,” You answered with a smile, but that smile soon felt when you saw the disappointment in Harry’s eyes “Your mum asked me and Gemma to go for a last minute shopping run… Harry are you okay, love?”

Your boyfriend closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he acquired whenever he was frustrated “‘m perfect” He mumbled, turning around to go back to your shared room.

But you were quicker as you grabbed him softly by the arm to make him stop in his tracks. Slowly making him turn around so he was face to face with you “Don’t lie, H. What is going on?”

“‘m just,” He started, but he couldn’t even look you in the eyes as he tried to find the right words to say to you, almost feeling like he is failing you somehow “We never got the chance to spend some time together, Y/N. You are always busy or I am always busy with my mum or with Gemma that I almost didn’t see you this whole trip and I-I just miss you”

Your eyes softened and your heart fluttered with his words. You missed him too, much more than you could say. Everytime you find some time for yourselves you get interrupted and by the end of the day you are both too tired to do anything else besides sleeping. You could tell Harry was frustrated by this whole ordeal, you just didn’t imagine it would affect him this much.

You cupped his cheek and brought him into a sweet kiss “I miss you too, love. Very much” You watched how Harry’s green eyes softened, but they still held an unspoken sadness “If you want me to stay with you, then I’ll stay with you. I don’t need to go with them, you know?”

Harry sighed, placing his hand over yours and caressing it with his thumb “I know” He said as he gave a kiss to your palm “You know how much I love seeing you hanging out with them and I know how much you enjoy it. You should go”

“But Harry-”

“Go, have fun!” He said in a cheerful tone as he brought you closer to give you a hug “I’ll be fine, love. I just want you to remember this Holiday and to enjoy it as much as you can”

“Are you sure? Because I can stay if you-”

“‘m sure,” He smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead, “Go, darling. They must be waitin’”

You smiled back at him and pecked his lips before turning around and closing the front door. Missing for just a second the way Harry’s smile dropped as he saw his plan being shut down once again.

He wasn’t proud of his last resort. He knew you deserved an epic proposal, something that could come out from an Oscar winning movie. Something that was as special as you are. And he was beating himself for ruining every chance he’s got to do this properly, but he promised himself that he would not let you - nor him - return home without a shiny rock on your hand. And a Styles never backs down from a promise.

So, with his heart almost beating out of his chest, he placed the gift bag with the other gifts that adorned the living room. Everything will be done tomorrow and there is no turning back now. It was now or never.

The next morning, you found yourself caught up in another Styles’ tradition. You were all sitting in the living room wearing your coziest pajamas as you drank hot cocoa and ate some gingerbread cookies with a pinch of peppermint. It was almost time to open the presents and you could tell Harry was feeling rather anxious.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked as you curreled up to him on the couch that was facing Anne and Gemma, who were already starting to distribute the presents among you.

Harry hummed as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, turning his face so he was looking at you. He could swear in that moment that he has never seen someone as beautiful as you right now as you watched him with doe eyes, your hair a little bit messy and a thin layer of chocolate decorating your upper lip. He was completely and utterly in love with you.

“Yeah, why’d you ask?”

You shrugged “You were tossing and turning a lot last night, almost like you were nervous or something. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Harry smiled “I got you, don’t I? How could anything not be alright?”

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy remark, but quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek. Harry didn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed.

“I asked Anne and Gemma to give us a day for ourselves” You said after a moment. Harry looked at you surprised. You couldn't know..? “I told them I felt guilty that I haven’t spent any time with you since we arrived and they understood” You smiled at him “I got you all for myself today, mr. Styles”

Harry’s eyes filled with glee as he brought your lips to him, kissing you with all the love he could pour at the moment.

“Uh, mum?” Gemma’s voice interrupted the scene “I don’t think this is mine” She said as she opened a gift bag.

“No? It’s a jewelry bag so I thought-”

Gemma shook her head “No! This is definitely not for me” She said as she took the little velvet box from inside, making the room go completely quiet. In that moment, all eyes went to Harry as he watched the scene with horror.

“Oh shit” He said, untangling himself form you so he could grab the box from his sister’s hand “Actually, this is mine”

All three of you stayed quiet as he grabbed your hand and kneeled in front of your sitting figure on the sofa.

“Oh my god” You said, covering your mouth that almost fell to the ground because of the shock.

“Oh my god” Gemma and Anne said in unison as they realized what was happening in front of them.

“Y/N,” Harry said looking into your eyes “Let me start by saying that this is not how things were supposed to go. And I’m not just talking about my sister opening your gift. I’ve been trying to propose for as long as this Holiday lasted. Waiting for the perfect moment because you are my perfect half, my soulmate and you deserve nothing less than pure and utter perfection, my love. And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you now”

You could feel the tears pouring down your face since the moment he kneeled in front of you, but hearing Harry say that he wanted to propose all along made you cry harder, how did you get so lucky?

“I knew I had to do this here, for this is the place where I knew I wanted to marry you the first time we came to visit. I have loved you from the very first moment you said hello, and I knew from that instant that you were going to become my favorite hello and my most painful goodbye. Y/N you are magic, my love. My lucky charm. Everything I do, everything I say or think or sing is for and because of you. You are my muse and my best friend. My anchor and my wings. I cannot live without you nor do I ever want to. You have bewitched me body and soul and I love you. I love you. I love you”

You could hear the distant sobs of Anne in the background, but all you could see was Harry. Harry, your best friend and lover. Harry, the person who filled your life with love and light. Harry, who was now on one knee, with tears in his eyes and a ring on his hand. Harry. Harry. Harry.

“You don’t have to say yes, but I really hope that you do. Y/N, my love. I love you more than life itself, you have made me a better man by loving me the way that you do. Let me love you the same now and forever. Will you marry me?”

You nodded through the tears “Yes, Harry. A million times yes!”

You swore Harry’s smile could light up the world in that moment as he slid the ring down your finger. But you didn’t even look as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him like his mum and sister weren’t watching, throwing the both of you to the floor.

Anne and Gemma started clapping, celebrating the new beginning of the young couple. Because these holidays had a new meaning now, since now and forever they will be remembered as the day you said “yes” to the love of your life.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @multistann @mystic-232

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fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan · 3 years

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A Lie to Love - Nathan MacKinnon

This is for @antoineroussel Summer Fic Exchange. I had the wonderful @broadstbroskis!

I had so much fun writing this fic and reading everyone else's work, I love getting to see so many great writers sharing their work on this site. This is also one of the longest pieces I have written in a very long time, as I was writing this I had a million other fic ideas pop in my head so many those will get written some time soon.

***

I just sat down on my couch, just getting home from work when someone started knocking on my apartment door. I was hoping to ignore it and it would go away, unfortunately they kept knocking. I groaned as I got up, decided how much I was going to curse this person out. “What-” Right behind the door was Nate, giving me a nervous smile.

I had met Nate through his teammate Gabe, I babysat for Gabe and Melissa on a regular basis. Nate showed up one night that I was watching their daughter looking for advice from Melissa. I was able to help him then he hung out with me until Gabe and Melissa came home. Since then I could expect him to show up at my apartment at least once a week for dinner, and we were close friends after I had to save him from a laundry emergency that first night I met him.

“I’m so glad you’re home. I need a huge favor.” Leaving the door open I headed back towards my couch, I knew Nate would follow me and close the door behind him. Once I was sitting on the couch again Nate pulled my legs onto his lap.

“Last time you asked for a favor I ended up with the flu.” Which was true, he had asked me to help out at a learn to skate event that was outside in December. It had been a cold and foggy day, and two days later I was down for the count.

“I brought you soup! And tissues for we left for that road trip.”

“You brought me one box of tissues and two cans of tomato soup.” Nate raised an eyebrow like I had proven his point. I threw a pillow at his head before speaking again. “I’m allergic to tomatoes!”

“Oh, I’m an idiot. Sorry. But I still need a favor.” I really wanted to just say no, ask Nate to leave and go to sleep until I had to go into the office tomorrow. But I knew I was going to say yes before I even found out what he needed. “Please Ruth.”

“What is this favor?”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.”

“That was not what I was expecting you to say.” That got a small chuckle out of Nate but he also looked nervous. “Why do you need a fake girlfriend?” Nate was in a ‘single and loving it’ stage of life, he just wanted to play hockey and hang out with his teammates.

“An executive on the team has been talking up his daughter for like the last two years. I’ve been able to brush off the hints he has been throwing at me, luckily she doesn’t live here. Today he came up to me when I was heading out for the day, talking about how his daughter is coming into town and how we should get dinner together so I can get to know her. I thought I could brush it off as a one off dinner, say we there was no connection and then she would be gone. Easy, ya know?”

“Not really. But continue.”

“Apparently this isn’t just a visit for her, she is moving here. And going to work for the team on the social media team.”

“That must have ruined your plan.” Nate nodded and I knew I was going to agree to his crazy plan. “So how did all this lead to me needing to be your fake girlfriend?”

“I panicked and said I had a girlfriend.”

“And I’m the only girl you hang out with that isn’t related to you or in a relationship with a teammate.”

“You are also one of my best friends and the one person I trust every part of my life with. I know this is a lot to ask, I know this is bigger than asking you to help with a skating event. This is a change to every part of your life, and lying to a lot of people.”

“I’ll do it.” Nate’s jaw actually dropped like he couldn’t believe I was agreeing to do it. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, thank you so much. I know this is a huge ask, I really do.”

“Before we talk about details, I need food and wine. Not necessarily in that order.” I ordered food and pulled out the biggest wine glass I had. As we waited for the food, we came up with a plan and story to tell everyone. We decided to stick with the cliche story of best friends who decided to fall for each other.

“Um, what about kissing? And other PDA?” Nate’s cheeks flushed as he asked the question and I knew it wasn’t from the wine. “I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“Let’s just start with hand holding and that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” Our food was delivered then, Nate going to the door and coming back with the bags of food.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it, you can think about it like this is our first date.” I nod and start eating once we decided on something to watch. This felt normal for us, eating take out and watching whatever hockey game Nate was able to find. After we finished eating Nate helped me clean everything up before he got ready to leave. I walked him to the door, hugging him tightly as he let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I will ever be able to repay you for doing this. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it Nate, I’ll always be there when you need me.” I closed the door behind him, hoping that I wouldn’t regret agreeing to fake date my best friend.

Nate’s pov

I had been ignoring my phone since I pulled into the parking lot at Ruth’s apartment building, knowing that asking Ruth to do this would make or break our friendship. When I left her apartment I was hopeful that this wouldn’t be the end of our friendship. But I also knew it was only going to make my feelings for her grow. I realized within a month of knowing Ruth that I had feelings for her, and I had almost told her a dozen times a year since then.

I checked my phone when I got home, I had four missed phone calls from my captain and nearly a dozen texts. I skipped over looking at all the messages and just called him. “Nate, why did I hear you say that you are dating someone? Mel has been questioning me since this afternoon because she heard you say to someone that you are in a relationship. She is pissed that I didn’t tell her about it. Which is hard to do considering I had no clue.”

Before I could answer I heard Mel’s voice. “MacKinnon, you better tell me who you are dating.”

“Uh, Ruth-” There was a loud squeal on the other end of the call and then I heard Landy trying to shush his wife.

“When were you going to tell us this?” Gabe asked after it got quiet. I wanted to tell them the truth, we had talked about it. We eventually decided that we wouldn’t tell them the truth because Gabe was the worst gossiper on the team.

“It’s only been about a month, we wanted to make sure this was going to work before we shared it with anyone. We wanted to wait even longer but one of the executives was trying to set me up with his daughter.”

“Alright. I guess that is enough information from now. We can always ask more questions at that fundraiser on Friday night.”

“Oh shit.” That caused Gabe to laugh at me.

“You didn’t tell her about that yet?”

“No, we weren’t going public yet so I figured that I would just go by myself. But I guess I need to tell her about that now and see if she is willing to come with me.”

“That is a big first outing, good luck with that buddy.” Gabe hung up and I knew that I needed to tell Ruth about Friday but when I left she had mentioned she was going to crash as soon as I left. I figured I should go to bed now and deal with everything tomorrow.

***

I was getting ready to knock on Ruth’s door when it flew open and Ruth was standing there looking shocked. “Nate! What are you doing here?” Her eyes then looked at the coffee cup I was holding, one that I had brought for her. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You only ever bring me my favorite coffee order when you have bad news.”

“I-Landy reminded me last night that we have a black tie fundraiser on Friday night.”

“And now that our supposed relationship is public, you are expected to bring your girlfriend with you.”

“Yeah. I am sorry, I never meant to make your life this complicated.” Ruth took the coffee from me, taking a sip before locking her door.

“I know what I signed up for Nate. I need to get to work, walk with me to my car.” I followed her through the hall of her apartment, waiting for her to yell at me. “What is this fundraiser for? And what kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s for the children’s hospital. We do it every year, they book a huge ballroom and it’s a lot of rich people. The Avs don’t run this fundraiser but all the sports teams in town donate a bunch of stuff to them to auction off and the team likes us to go so the people are more willing to open their wallets.”

“And yet that doesn’t tell me what kind of dress I need, or what time this thing is. Or any of the other million things I need to know to get ready for this thing.”

“I’m not sure about any of this, every year I go by myself. I can have Mel call you?”

“That sounds good. I have to go now, I have a project that was assigned to me yesterday that is way behind schedule. So thank you for the coffee and I’ll see you later.” I watched as she got into her car and drove away.

Ruth’s pov

By the time lunch came around I was buried under a pile of work, I hoped that if I could work through lunch and stay a little late every day this week that I would be caught up by the end of the week so I could focus on the lie at this fundraiser. So when I saw that Melissa was calling me I knew my plan was about to be derailed. “Hey Melissa.”

“I am going to ignore the fact that you didn’t tell me about you and Nate. And I am also going to save all of my questions for later, Nate told me that you need a dress for Friday. I can be at your office in 10 minutes, we can go shopping during your lunch hour.”

“I am so behind on a project that was just given to me this morning and it was already so far behind because the guy who was incharge of it before me was an idiot. I don’t have time to take a lunch break this week.”

“But Nate gave me his card to buy your dress with.” I knew I would regret what I was about to say but I didn’t have another option.

“If I tell you what size I wear, can you just get me something?”

“Absolutely!”

“Thank you. As much fun as I think shopping with you would be, I just can’t leave right now.”

“I get it. Send me a text with your sizes and I’ll find you the perfect dress.”

“Because my brain is a mess right now, I wasn’t supposed to babysit on Friday right?”

“No, my parents are in town this week. They are watching the kids. There is no way you are getting out of this event.” A part of me was hoping that I would have that as an excuse to not go but with that option gone I started to mentally prepare myself for Friday night.

***

“Thank you for letting me get ready here.” I said to Nate as he let me into his house. “And thank you for letting me crash here tonight.”

“Of course, it makes more sense this way. I also have your dress, Mel wouldn’t let me look at it when she dropped it off on Tuesday. I figured you can use my room to get ready, it has more counter space for whatever you need.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bedroom and bathroom.”

“It’s not kicking me out when I volunteer to use the guest room. C’mon, let me carry your bag.”

“How long until we need to leave?”

“I have an Uber scheduled for 75 minutes from now.” I nod, knowing that I could make that work without having to rush too much. Once Nate headed into the guest room I started to unpack what I would need for now. Grabbing a towel before going to figure out the shower, which was far more high tech than anything I had ever seen in a shower before. I wrapped the towel around myself and went to find Nate. “Nate?! How do I work your futuristic shower?” I only stuck my head out in the hall to yell and luckily he heard me from the guest room he was in. A few seconds later he came out in only a loose pair of shorts, laughing at me. “Don’t laugh at me, your shower has a computer screen!” I opened the bedroom door so he could come in, watching his eyes widen when I saw I was only wearing a towel. As he came in to turn the shower on for me I took the time to look over him. When he turned to show me how to change the temperature and turn it off I knew he caught me checking him out. Nate was such a beautiful person, inside and out. I knew that fake dating Nate had the potential for my true feelings to come out and I was trying to convince myself that this wouldn’t end with the death of our friendship.

“Need anything else?”

“Nope.”

Nate’s pov

It took every ounce of willpower to not kiss Ruth when I saw her standing in my bedroom in just a towel, and then when I caught her checking me out I was really tempted to tell her the truth. I knew that this fake dating would just cause more pain for me but there was nothing I could do about that now. I took a colder shower than I had originally been planning to take but after that was done I got my suit on, just a dark grey suit so that hopefully I wouldn’t clash with whatever Ruth was wearing.

Just as I finished getting my shoes on there was a knock on my door. I opened it and was immediately speechless. The deep green dress looked amazing on her and I am pretty sure that my jaw was on the floor. As she moved in the dress I saw the large slit on the one side that showed a lot of her leg. “Can you zip my dress?”

“Y-yeah.” Ruth turned so her back was to me, pulling her hair to the side so I could tug up the zipper before whispering. “Perfect.”

“I should be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I just need to come grab a tie. I wanted to wait until I saw what color your dress was.” Ruth nodded as we both heard into my bedroom, I headed straight for my closet and by the time I came out with my tie on Ruth was standing at the end of my bed smiling. “You look amazing.”

“You do too.” I walked over to Ruth, both of us looking at our reflection in the mirror. “We make a good looking couple.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I froze after those words came out of my mouth, Ruth looking at me with wide eyes.

“O-okay, um, I’ll go grab my stuff and get out of your hair.” Ruth went to turn and walk away from me, but I gently turned her around so I could tell her the truth.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I cupped Ruth’s cheek, locking eyes with her. “I have had feelings for you for so long. Probably since a month after I met you but I was scared to tell you. And then we became friends and I didn’t want to make things weird, so I kept it a secret. But I also fell for you more as we became closer friends. So I think a part of me decided to say I was dating someone because I want to be dating you. For real.” Ruth didn’t say anything, just took a step closer and pressed her lips to mine. “I, what just happened?”

“Everything you just told me, I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now kiss me for real.” That I could do, I kissed Ruth like I had wanted to do for years. We only stopped kissing when a car horn sounded in my driveway. “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”

“I would say sorry but I’m not. I’ll go to the car if you want to fix your lipstick.” Ruth nodded, stepping back while smiling at me. “Just so you know, this isn’t our first date. I will be planning that for next week and it is going to knock your socks off.”

“As long as you are there, I can’t wait.” I kissed Ruth one more time before healing downstairs to tell the driver we were almost ready. I also couldn’t keep the smile off of my face, I couldn’t believe what started out as a panicked lie turned into a chance to date my best friend for real.

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ificanthaveu · 4 years

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Don’t Tell The RA || Shawn Mendes

Description: RA!Shawn asks for your help with studying for your final exam, but an RA should always expect the unexpected.

A/N: Happy 1st day of my semi-not-really-ficmas! I’m positive I’ve used every winter/Christmas themed fic idea, but I scrounged together a few so here’s the first of the installment. These’ll probably all be pretty short (except for 1 probably bc i have a lot of ideas for it). Also.....if this gif doesn’t look like RA!Shawn trying to get his freshmen boys to stfu so they can start and end the hall meeting ASAP.

Word Count: 2.4k

You were the first person out of the room when your History professor dismissed you, meeting your awaiting roommate Micah across the hall. The two of you started walking back to your dorm without much of a word until she launched into how difficult her calculus exam is going to be.

“At least it’s related to your major. I’m about to fail a gen-ed,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “I’ve never liked History, and this is a literal nightmare.”

“Hey, only one more test, and we’re done,” she reminded you.

Before you could respond to her, you heard your name being yelled from behind you. The both of you stopped and turned around to see Shawn maneuvering his way in and out of people, his tall stature poking out from the rest as you smiled at him.

“Have you started studying for the final yet?” He asked as he fell into step with you and Micah, making your way out of the building.

You practically snorted with a head shake before you said, “Absolutely not. I’ve been so caught up in my biology classes that I’ve barely started looking at this. It’s not looking good for me.”

“We get it. You’re pre-med,” Micah mumbled before you elbowed her.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve cracked open the textbook since the first week,” he said.

“Oh, you opened yours? Mine’s still in the plastic wrap,” you said as proud as you could.

That earned a laugh from Shawn as he shook his head at you.

“You may be worse off than I am,” he said.

He paused for a moment, looking between you and where he had to turn to go to the freshman dorms, opposite campus from the junior ones.

“Would you wanna study tonight?” He asked.

You heard Micah choke on her breath as you prayed he didn’t hear it.

“Yeah, I definitely need it,” you replied.

“Can’t do it in our room,” Micah interjected quickly. “Josie is coming over for calc.”

“We can study at mine,” he said. “If that’s ok with you of course. We just might get interrupted by check-out questions.”

“Sounds just fine with me. I could never do what you do,” you said, looking up at him as he shrugged and looked away, the blush almost evident on his cheeks.

“Well, my room and board is paid for, so I’ll deal with throwing up freshmen in the bathroom at 2 am,” he said. “Does 7 work?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said as you turned to go towards your dorm. “See you then.”

Micah followed behind you as you began to cross campus, waiting until you were clearly out of earshot of Shawn.

“You really had to say we couldn’t do it in our dorm?” You asked as you gripped onto her wrist and she laughed. “Now I have to be extra alone with him.”

“That’s the point,” she said flatly. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at him all semester. That man is the total package.”

“And we’re studying together, nothing else,” you quickly pointed out.

“Well it may start that way but-“ you cut her off before she could finish.

“Don’t say something that won’t come true,” you said as you swiped into the building and walked up the stairs to your dorm.

“You wish it will though,” she said in a sing-song voice as you unlocked your door and pushed her in.

“So what are you wearing?” She asked as she whipped open your closet.

“I’m not changing,” you said.

Micah turned around and looked up and down at your sweatpants and sweatshirt with a look of disgust.

“Can you at least put leggings on and a clean sweatshirt? Maybe put your hair in a pony-tail instead of that bun that looks like it was slept in - scratch that - a bun that was slept in,” she said as she threw you a pair of black leggings and a school crewneck.

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled as you changed.

“You’ll thank me later,” she called after you.

It had started snowing by the time 6:45 came around, and you began your trip across campus. You were regretting not wearing a jacket as you shivered and crossed your arms tightly around your chest.

The person at the front desk smiled at you as you made your way up to Shawn’s dorm, scanning the rooms for the one that said “Residential Assistant” on the front.

You knocked twice once you found it, rocking back and forth on your feet and trying to shake the cold. You glanced around at the winter-themed decorations around the hall before Shawn swung the door open.

“Hey,” he said brightly with that big smile that made you weak. “You look freezing.”

“I am,” you said as he welcomed you in. “Big mistake not wearing a coat.”

You scanned over his room quickly as he shut the door behind the two of you. He had white Christmas lights strung along his window, making for a beautiful reflection mixed with the snow. His overhead light was off, but the lamp beside his futon was on. It was surprisingly clean, but you attributed that to him never knowing when someone was going to need to talk to him.

Two mugs were situated on his desk in the corner of the room. He crossed the room and grabbed one and handed it to you.

“It’s mint tea,” he said. “Helps with studying.”

“Ah, of course,” you said, taking the mug and sitting on his, surprisingly comfortable, futon.

“And a blanket,” he said as he pulled it from the back of the couch. “Since you look like you might have hypothermia.”

“Thank you,” you said softly as you wrapped it tightly around your shoulders.

You pulled out your book and binder, flipping to the study guide that was handed out in class.

“Ok, where do you want to start?” You asked as Shawn pulled his slightly crumpled study guide from where it was tucked in his book.

“Well, I know nothing,” he said as he scanned over the paper. “Actually, I know one.”

“Which one?”

“The one he told us the answer for today.”

“That does not count.”

The two of you determined an order to study from as you kept his open textbook balancing on both of your knees, occasionally having to lean closer to the other to take a look at a passage.

Shawn skimmed the page, pointing at a passage and trying to explain it to you as you looked at him. You couldn’t hear a word he said as you watched how into the topic he got, using his hands to try to express his point. You sent the butterflies to the bottom of your stomach by taking a giant sip of the tea and moving onto the next question.

He asked you the next one, taking the textbook from you as you leaned an arm on the back of the futon. You glanced between him and the mini Christmas tree in the corner as you tried to explain it as best you can without the book as a crutch.

You looked back at him, his head cocked to the side and an interested look on his face. A few curls fell onto his forehead as he studied you. You tried to keep talking as his gaze was unwavering.

“Sounds right to me,” he said, his face dangerously close to yours as he also leaned his arm on the back.

“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you whispered. “Were you even looking at the book to make sure I was right?” You teased.

“I had something else I had to look at,” he said at the same volume.

You felt him lean in as you did the same. You could feel his breath fan over your lips as your hand rested on his knee.

Three solid knocks sent you flying away from each other.

Shawn cursed under his break as he stood up and swung the door open quickly.

“What?” He said to the kid in front of him, who was significantly shorter than Shawn.

“Kevin knocked over the-“ he paused as he saw you watching from across the room. “Oh, sorry, Shawn, I didn’t realize you had a girl over.”

You choked on your sip of tea as Shawn shoved the kid out the door and slammed the door behind him.

You pulled yourself together as you could hear Shawn’s muffled voice through the paper-thin walls.

“Why the fuck would you say that with her right there?” He said.

“I didn’t know! I would’ve gotten the RA on duty if I knew you were on a date,” the kid yelled back.

You could hear Shawn huff and could imagine him tugging at his hair.

“It’s nothing, Cade. It’s literally nothing at all,” Shawn said quickly. Your stomach dropped.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” the kid - Cade - teased back.

“Just tell me what’s going on, so I can study, which is the only thing we were doing,” he trailed off as you could hear the two of them walking down the hall.

You tried not to let yourself get too disappointed as you half packed up some of your stuff, not wanting to overstay your welcome if he didn’t see anything here. You felt yourself begin to overthink, wondering what would’ve happened if he kissed you. If he just wanted something quick before break, a finale to your semester together in class.

You waited patiently, your chin resting on your knees as you tried to look at the study guide with no luck.

The door swung open once again as Shawn came back. He shut the door behind him, running his hands through his hair as he looked over at you, noticing nothing but your study guide sitting out. He felt his stomach drop but didn’t say anything.

“Ok, where were we?” He said as he sat down again, dangerously close as his thigh grazed across yours.

Your breath hitched as he looked over at the study guide in your lap, looking at your one newly highlighted point.

You looked up at him as he asked you a question on the point. It was obvious he was looking at your lips.

You tried to answer the question and steady your shaky voice, but he leaned closer. Before his lips had the chance to press against yours, you rested your hand against his chest.

“Shawn…” you trailed off. “I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he quickly said. “I didn’t - I thought - I’m sorry, I thought there was…” he trailed off as he tried to motion between the two of you as he leaned back.

“I just,” you paused as you let out a breath. “I really don’t want to be a one-night thing before you go back home.”

“Why would you think that?” He asked, an upset look clearly on his face.

“It’s nothing. It’s literally nothing at all,” you quoted him as you played with the edge of the study guide.

He looked at you confused as you looked down at the page, trying to distract yourself.

“Why would you say that? I don’t think this is just nothing,” he said.

“Shawn, these walls are paper-thin,” you snapped as you looked up at him. “I heard you telling the kid that this was nothing, and I don’t want nothing. So I’m stopping it here.”

He rubbed his forehead softly as you tucked your study guide into your binder, opening your backpack to put it away.

“I’m not going to tell one of my residents that he just interrupted something,” Shawn said quickly. “They’re my residents. I’m not about to tell them about my love life. I didn’t know you’d hear that. I swear I don’t think this is just nothing. I just don’t want them to know that stuff about me. There’s no reason to. I’m so sorry if it came off as any other way.”

You watched him continue to get flustered as he stayed relatively close to you, his hand almost hitting your shoulder as he spoke.

“I’ve been crazy about you since the beginning of the semester. I don’t just want to kiss you and forget,” he explained, leaning close to you again.

“Really?” You asked softly.

He smiled back at you, his hand almost resting against your shoulder as he draped it against the back of the futon.

“Really,” he replied.

This time when he leaned in, you let him kiss you. His hand enveloped the side of your face as you rested your hands gently on his chest. He tugged on your hip, and you followed his lead as you climbed onto his lap, smiling into the kiss as his hands stayed planted on your hips, gripping into your sides.

You pulled back before pecking his lips once more, leaning your forehead against his so you could see his big smile.

You glanced outside to see the snow getting worse as you let out a sigh.

“I should get going,” you whispered.

“But it’s a blizzard out there,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And you don’t have a coat.” Another kiss at the corner of your lips. “Just stay,” he whispered as his lips met yours again.

“I don’t want to get us in trouble,” you whisper back.

“I know the RA. Don’t worry about it. I can pull some strings if he finds out,” he said with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes, leaning in again.

“Won’t the residents know?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Let ‘em talk,” he said as his hand rubbed up your side, sending shivers across your body. “I won’t see them for over a month anyway.”

“Well, as long as the RA doesn’t find out, I think maybe I can stay,” you whispered as Shawn flipped you over so your back pressed against the futon and he hovered above you.

“I’ll make sure he never finds out.”

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