#i feel like it’s becoming more and more evident that i’m a little silly

[teliphone]

Love like a Fool

Summary: I shouldn’t known from the moment my heart felt more for Caitlyn, that it was a mistake. I thought love was supposed to be about taking risks and loving like a fool. I don’t want to regret anything, but I have to limit myself because she feels uneasy. Is it because of me? I must be lacking in many ways. I promised myself to get better. I need to prove to others that I can.  

Warning: Slight fluff then pure angst 

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman X Fem Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

-

The target moves back and forth in quick and uneven motion as a way to stimulate the movement of humans. I place the sniper rifle closer to my body. The cold metal pressed against my chest. I narrow my eyes at the target watching it jerk back and forth. I place my finger against the trigger as I start to steady my breathing. My heart rate begins to slow. The breeze in the air seems to be silent for a moment. My eyes quickly shift to focus on one target as it starts rolling toward the center of the scope. A loud bang comes from my gun as I press the trigger. The smell of gun smoke reaches my nose as the smoke rises from the nozzle. I lower the gun and tilt my body to examine the shot. A hole is evident on the target, but not where I was trying to aim. The bullet was several inches below the head of the target. I frown and feel disappointment arising from within. 

I want to be better and prove to others that I can take on tougher tasks. I’ve been assigned as an enforcer, stuck with the simple role of Piltover's council gatekeeper. I want to be part of the bigger action, specifically, to be part of Caitlyn’s team. 

I know I am capable, or at least… I hope I am. 

News spread that Caitlyn Kiramman has become a Sheriff and I couldn’t agree more. She is amazing at her job. I’ve secretly studied her in admiration. I saw her in action. She is stern and confident, but at the same time so graceful. She balances fear and love so well. Her facade never falls to others, but I sense there’s a softness in her gaze when she notices me. It’s a quick and small look, so I can’t put a finger on it. All I can do in response is smile back while feeling my cheeks heat up. 

“Practicing again?” A voice snaps me out of daydreaming. A recognizable British accent. Refined and poised. I turn my head to see Caitlyn standing with her arms crossed. I widen my eyes before saluting her. She has a soft grinning smirk on her lips. Her beautiful long blue hair falls over her shoulders. She’s in her work uniform, seemingly that she just finished a task. 

“Yes,” I quickly respond to her question. She chuckles shortly and walks over, eyeing the target. She stops next to me, a little closer than I expected and I feel my heart rate increase. My eyes quickly flicker at the curves of her body then back down the ground in respect. 

“You practice quite a lot,” She notes. This isn’t the first time I’ve bumped into her at the practice shooting area. It’s actually quite often. Caitlyn is strict with her studies and skills. She needs to do things perfectly right. It is not strange to find her at the shooting range after work hours. She has gotten used to seeing me there as well. She never said it, but I believe she likes how I’m willing to get better. She notices how other enforcers don’t practice as much.

I shyly run my hand on the back of my neck. Her eyes glance down to watch my reaction. I peek between my eyelashes and make eye contact with her. The closeness and eye contact make me unconsciously grip the gun. I quickly look back down to the ground. Examining the distance between our shoes. 

“I want to prove to others I can be good,” I finally admit. I didn’t want to reveal the part where I dream of being in her team. 

That would be too silly of a confession. 

She raises her eyebrows and pauses, deep in thought. The wind gently blows against my bare skin as silence coats the air. I feel anxiety increasing while she continues to stare at me, motionless and speechless. There’s a shift in her eyes, a shift that I don’t understand. 

Does she think I can’t be good? Is she too afraid to tell me the truth? 

Thoughts swirl in my head naturally. It’s a negative trait that I endure every day. My mind runs thousands of thoughts that can be entirely false. But I also believe certain voices are true, but I have yet to distinguish the two. I furrow my eyebrows and force myself to look away from her. I couldn’t bear to continue to theorize what her expression meant. I hear her shift her body to lean her body weight against the bullet-loading table. 

“I can help you,” She offers. I feel my heart stop pounding to make sure I didn’t hear her wrong. I jerk my head up with wide eyes. Caitlyn, the best sniper shooter, is going to help me. 

“Are you serious?” I hesitate. What did I do to deserve this special treatment from her? She simply nods and a few hair strands fall over her face. She smiles while brushing her bangs behind her ear. I am still speechless, not knowing what to do next. She figures and gently reaches for my gun. Her fingers curl around the handle, a few centimeters from my hand. She brings it up to my chest. I look at her in confusion yet again. 

“Show me how you aim,” She orders. I lick my lips and move quickly to action. I do not want to waste a single second of getting trained by her. I turn my body to the targets and lift the gun up. I lean my head down to look through the scope. Suddenly I feel Caitlyn move her body to locate behind me. Her fingers gently tilt the tip of the gun at a specific angle. Her other hand moves to my hip. Like a young girl in love, my heart pounds hard. I would also blame the fact that I am touched starved. Working as an enforcer limits the time I can spend romanticizing with others. People also avoid me. I am no one special, I like to believe. 

This is far from romantic. I know she doesn’t like me, but with her body heat pressing against me. I can’t help it. It’s quite embarrassing. 

“You should stand more straight,” She corrects. I shiver at the realization of how close her lips are to my ears. The distance sends chills down my body. No amount of daydreaming can make up for this moment. I shallow away my emotions and straighten my back. I feel myself press against her chest. 

“Slow down your heartbeat and breathing,” She chuckles. My cheeks start warming. 

“Sorry,” I squeak. She doesn’t respond, but instead continues to coach. She removes her hand from my hip and grips my shoulders. She reminds me to tighten my muscles and grip. Once she is satisfied with my position, she removes herself and stands back. I secretly let out a breath of relief. If she continued pressing her body against me, I wouldn't be able to perform accurately. That was the last thing I wanted to do in front of her. 

“Now focus and calculate the timing,” She orders. I close my eyes to calm my breathing. When I feel my heartbeat going at a steady pace, I open my eyes. My sight completely focuses on the target. 

I need to get this right. I have to impress Caitlyn. 

My attention zooms into a specific target and I press into the trigger. Another loud bang echoes into the sky. I let out a shaky breath of anticipation. I immediately lower my gun to look at the target. I guess my hope was too high. The bullet hole was a few centimeters from the head. Better than before, but not perfect. 

Not perfect enough for Caitlyn. 

My shoulders slowly drop and I feel anxious thoughts creeping up again. I frown and look at her nervously. I don’t know what to expect. To my surprise, she seems sort of proud. 

“Good job,” She compliments. 

-

A couple of months of training have passed faster than I realize. I am surprised at how long she agreed to train me. No one else has gotten this special treatment. Even though there are times when she’s tired from a mission, she would still show up. As time went on it wasn't just training anymore. We would go out to eat dinner or a picnic on a sunny day. Not only have my skills increased, but my crush on her did as well. I spent too much time with her to not develop deeper feelings. I didn’t want to. I wanted things professional, just in case I ruined things. 

The more time we spent together, the more people talked about us. Baseless rumors begin to spread. I didn’t want to hear it, but people spoke loudly- as if I wasn’t there. They all picture me as someone who manipulated her way to Caitlyn. That I am nothing special. I have no rich or authoritative name for myself. No one knew who I was until I started involving myself with her. 

I thought these accusations would cause Caitlyn to stay away from me. She’s everything I’m not. After all, she has an image to keep. I do not want to stain it. 

But, she never stopped. 

Caitlyn started to teach me about combat. She wanted to enhance not only my shooting skills but my fighting as well.  

So here we are, standing on the mat with our fists up. I suck in a deep breath as sweat begins collecting on my neck. I feel a slight painful sore developing on my stomach from her punch that I failed to block. She gestures a finger at me to make the first move. I launch myself to her and she swiftly dodges and elbows my back. I grunt and stumble on my footing. I gather myself, not wanting to give up and turn to face her. Her eyes hint with glee when she notices a shift in my face. I clench my jaw and focus on her moves. Then I saw it. A small opening where I can tackle her. I rush forward, grabbing her arm. She lets out a gasp in surprise before I hurl her onto the ground. I quickly pin her onto the ground by locking my thighs around her wrist. 

I smiled brightly, my eyes sparkling. I finally did it. Her chest moves up and down quickly as she gets lost in my joy. She places her elbow onto the ground to support half her body up. I continued smiling, unaware of the plan she had in mind. 

She leans her head closer, testing the waters. Her lips linger over mine before she pulls back a little. Her heavy-lidded eyes gaze up. My smile begins to slowly drop in realization. I gulp and a blush appears on my cheeks. Her eyes flicker from my lips and back to my eyes. I hesitate, not knowing what to do, but I lean forward. Eager to capture her lips, but afraid to make the first move. She gently smiles, understanding my actions before closing the distance.

Her soft lips pressed against mine. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fist.  She brings her hands up to touch my cheeks. Her thumbs draw a circle while her soft lips continue to move. I lean deeper into the kiss, wanting to permanently remember this moment forever. All my anxious thoughts seem to be silent just for a short moment. She is the first to pull away from the kiss. Leaning her forehead against mine. I place my hand over hers and smile. 

Caitlyn’s eyes suddenly become stern and she pulls her body away. My mind races in worry. I furrow my eyebrows while looking at her in confusion. 

“I’m sorry,” She apologizes. I shake my head slowly, trying to understand. 

Was the kiss a mistake? Did I do something wrong? 

“I…” I hesitate. I worry about my next words. I worried that she would push herself away if I said the wrong things. I wanted to confess my feelings, but I was afraid I would embarrass myself if she said it was a mistake. I wanted to tell her it was okay, but I feared she would think I didn’t feel anything. A part of me was so terrified that she did feel something for me, but the kiss awakened a realization in her. 

I never got the chance to gather my thoughts before she got up. I try to reach out and grab her wrist, but she hurries away. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll… see you sometime again,” She says before disappearing. I feel my eyes begin to water. My anxious thoughts may be right this time. As much as I try to think of a different conclusion, my negativity chokes up any other possible reasoning. 

-

Caitlyn avoided me. Every time she sees me walking by, she turns in the other direction. I try to force a smile. Understanding that she may be struggling with her thoughts. All I can do for her is to wait. I need to understand that I’m not enough for her. After several more days, I thought she had forgotten me. I went to my regular shooting range hoping to bump into her, but she never showed up. 

As I walk with my head down, I see a pair of shoes stop in front of me. I can immediately recognize her shoes. Caitlyn had blocked my walking pathway. I jerk back in surprise before examining her in confusion. Her eye circles are dark and her hair is messy. It seems like she has been lacking sleep. She licks her lips and plays with her fingers. I stand silent with a pounding heart, waiting for her to speak. She lets out a breath and I brace myself for the worst. 

“I’m sorry I avoided you,” She begins. I pause for a moment as her words sink. I summon my confidence by clenching my fist. My lips waver as I try to smile at her. I wasn’t actually happy, but I wanted to show her I appreciated her stepping up. I understand why she would want to avoid me. 

“It’s okay,” I answer, a little shaky for my liking. She glances around the hall as I assume she’s making sure no one else is around. A few people walk by, giving me an unexplainable stare. I tilt my head to the side to avoid people’s eyes. She then grabs my hand and tugs me along with her. I stumble on my footsteps to catch up with her. She pulls us into a dark room and slams the door. She breathes heavily, her chest moving up and down before turning to face me again. I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. I can still see her figure with the small lamp in the corner. 

“I… I think I like you,” She confesses like the truth has been choking her to death. It's as if it’s a surprise that someone like her could be interested in someone like me. She stared at me with a scared expression like she didn’t fully understand herself. I feel my heart ache, but I force a smile again. 

She’s been struggling because of me. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized I couldn’t say anything. 

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit. I shift my body weight uncomfortably. My hands come up to wrap themselves around me. A poor attempt to comfort myself. She pushes herself from the door and walks over to me. She hesitates a little, before reaching down to touch my hands. I stare at the way her fingers hold mine. She’s so gentle. 

“I want to try and love you,” She pauses, “but we have to do it in secret,” 

I tilt my head up to look at the sincerity in her eyes. I can tell she is worried. Wondering how people would view her if they found out she was meeting up with someone lowly like me. Debating if this reveal would hurt my feelings. It’s a little humorous that she doesn’t know the lengths I would go for her. 

I tightened my grip on her hands and tugged her a little closer. I examine the beauty that reflects off the orange light. She’s a beautiful woman worthy of respect and care. I remove one hand from her hold and place it on her cheeks. She leans into the touch, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I would do anything for you,” I confess like a fool in love. Her eyes dilate and she lets out a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relax as she finally smiles.

-

I never thought how much more I could fall for Caitlyn. I love her. I didn’t care about the hidden touches behind doors. The secret messages we pass. It was our love that I couldn’t regret. We completely ignore each other when passing by in the halls. Oh, how I wish I could shout to the world about her. Rumors between her and I have successfully died out. 

I wait patiently in my room, waiting for the skies to become darker so that Caitlyn can sneak her way over. I hear quiet quick knocks on the door. I stumble my way over and swing the door open. She stands with a shy smile on her face. I quickly grab her wrist and tug her in, slamming the door behind me. 

I pull her into a hug, soaking in her warmth and scent. She hugs back with the same amount of eagerness. We stay silent for a few more seconds before I pull away.

“Are you hungry?” I ask as I walk to the kitchen, “I can start preparing-“ 

She calls my name, cutting me off. I stop in my tracks to look at her. She seems hesitant again, her eyes wavering. A look that brings me back to the day we stood in the dark room. 

“I have to tell you something,” She explains. She starts walking to the coach and I follow along. I sit down, my knees brushing against hers. She reaches over to touch my hand with a stern look. 

“I got put on a very important case,” She says. I widen my eyes and smile. 

“Well, that’s great news right?” I chirp. She lets out a nervous laugh. Her gaze averts to the side for a brief second. My smile begins to drop slightly. 

“It is… but I have to be gone for a year,” She reveals.

“A year?” I repeat slowly. My grip starts to loosen from her hold. I shouldn’t be scared, but there is a part of me that worries. So much can happen in a year. 

“It’s a mission to go to the undercity and-“

I start to zone out. Undercity? That place is filled with horror stories. No sane person dares to step foot in there. At least that was how I was taught by others. I can’t imagine myself letting Caitlyn go down there. It’s just not safe. 

She squeezes my hands and I look back at her. My face is mixed with many emotions. I should not stop her from doing her job, but I don’t want her gone for a year in Undercity. What if she gets hurt and I can’t find her? How can I make a decision when I am unsure of myself? 

“Can you wait for me?” She whispers. 

The decision has already been made. 

I squeeze my eyes shut as I turn my head to the side. I didn’t want her to see me cry. She places her hands on my cheeks and slowly turns me to face her. I feel the warmth of her hands. 

“…when do you leave?” I sniff. 

“Tomorrow morning,” She responds. Time seems to pause for a moment. I wish it stayed like that; so that I could stay by her side longer. Tomorrow? This is so soon and sudden. I searched in Caitlyn’s eyes to find some type of hesitation, but there was nothing. I force myself to smile as my heart feels crushed. Nothing is going to stop her, not even my feelings. I understand that feelings alone can’t dictate her decision, but I wish it was considered just a little bit more. 

Did she really care about how I would feel? Did I not cross her mind when she accepted the mission? Do I matter that little? 

All the anxious thoughts blew away when Caitlyn pulled me in for a hug. How foolish am I to disregard my hurt so fast for her? Love makes a person a fool. 

-

Five months have passed since Caitlyn left to go to the Undercity. I have gotten used to the feeling of being alone. This feeling is rather normal and something I am more familiar with. I still keep my duties of guarding the gates of the council building. Days and days of people not sparing me a second glance as they walk by. I sometimes wonder if they would even notice if I didn’t show up one day. 

I keep the house clean. Making sure Caitlyn’s extra clothes are tucked neatly in my closet, ready for the day she comes back. When I lay in bed, I close my eyes and place my hand on the side where she usually lays. I imagine she is next to me. Humming and running her fingers through my hair. I smile for a moment, then frown when I realize I’m daydreaming again. It’s awfully cold without her touch. 

11 months have passed and I feel impatient for her return. The picture I keep on the desk lacks dust by how many times I’ve touched it. Running my fingers across her face to remind myself of how soft her skin feels. My heart squeezes when I examine the bright smile that the camera captures. I gently place the picture down and lean my head against the cold surface of the desk. 

Just a little more. I can wait, just like how she asked me to do. A simple task. I can do it. 

-

1 year and 1 month has passed. Anxiety eats away my skin as I scratch the surface with my nails. The councils ordered a one-month expansion, just in case Caitlyn had something important to do before they sent out a search for her. The enforcers are starting to become worried at the lack of her appearance. 

The councils issue a meeting to form a team of three of the best enforcers. I stand by the door with a racing heart, listening to the councils talk amongst themselves. They list off the best enforcers on documents. The back of my neck starts to feel hot. My feet feel the urge to step forward. I must go to find my love. I find myself walking forward recklessly.

“I apologize for my unprofessional behavior, but please allow me to join the team,” My voice clashes and silences the room. I glance around to see the confused look on their faces. They had no idea I was there. 

“And who are you?” One of the council's questions. They rub their fingers together with an amused smile. I bow down to show my respect. I tell them my name and title, with a shaky voice. There’s another pause again, til I hear someone snicker. That causes a domino effect where they all start to laugh. I bite my bottom lip as an embarrassing blush forms on my cheeks. My eyes water, tears forming at the edge. I turn my head down to stare at the floor. They question me and my motives:

“I never even noticed her there,”

“What can a gatekeeper do?”

“I admire how much courage that little girl has,”

“Why are you so concerned?” Mrs. Kiramman’s question sounds the clearest among the others. I tilt my head up to look at her. The truth feels like acid in my throat. Caitlyn had asked me to keep our relationship a secret. I must keep the promise. It’s not like it was hard to do so. I fully understand now why Caitlyn wanted it that way. They don’t take me seriously. I am just a laughing stock at this moment. I can’t dirty her name. 

I lick my trembling lips and shake my head. 

“I-I just want to-”

“I’m sorry dear, but we have an important discussion to do. The fate of my daughter relies on someone who can actually save her. Return to your position,” Mrs. Kiramman orders. I choke back my words. The little courage I have left vanishes. I quickly bow once more before walking back to my place. They return back to their conversation as normal, while I fight back tears. The uniform feels hot and stuffy against my skin. I feel unworthy of wearing the enforcer gear. 

The moon appears bright in the sky as I sneak my way down the streets. I tug my hoodie closer to hide my face as I make my way to the Undercity. I am going to search for Caitlyn on my own. 

The air starts to become more dense. I have never been here before. I can feel my anxious heart beating rapidly. A few strangers study me as I walk by. I grip my jacket closer to my body, avoiding their eyes. My footsteps quicken with one solid plan in mind. 

Find Caitlyn. 

I didn’t care how reckless I was being. Walking into the Undercity with no solid plan. I can’t even confidently say I can protect myself. Anything can happen to me before I can even find her. 

After walking for several minutes I realized how big this city is. I can’t just simply bump into her. I desperately look around to find someone that looks the least threatening. The task was harder to do than I expected. Most of the people are drunk or hunching their bodies as they are ready to launch forward. I scan more until I find a young boy. Innocent eyes with a few dirt marks scuffed on his cheeks. I walk to him, trying not to scare him off. He seems hesitant at first before I take my hoodie off to show my face. His shoulders visually relax. I kneel down to eye level with him. 

“Hi, can you help me find someone?” I whisper. His eyes dart around then back to me. He doesn’t respond. I shuffle around in my pocket to find money. Once I pull it out his eyes brighten. He quickly nods his head in agreement. 

“Can you help me find Caitlyn Kiramman? She is about this tall,” I stand to gesture her height, “she has blue hair and a sharp nose,” 

I try my best to describe her to him. I hoped that the description was enough for him. Caitlyn doesn’t look like she belongs in the Undercity. It must be easy to locate her. 

The young boy ponders for a moment before his eyes brighten. He places his hand out and motions me to hand the cash. I place it on top of his hand and he quickly puts it in his pocket. He gestures to me to follow along, his little footsteps patter on the ground. It took about several minutes before he paused and pointed down the street. I tilt my head to examine the low-light street. 

“She’s there?-“ I ask, but the little boy has already run off. I softly chuckle before composing myself. My heart quickens and the sound of my breathing is loud due to how quiet the streets are. I stand still for a moment to evaluate the setting. That’s when I hear a gentle giggle. 

A giggle that sends a wave of crashing memories. My eyes begin to water as I hear the sound again. It’s Caitlyn. I am sure of it. I silently follow the sound. I hear another voice, but can’t make out who it could be. Maybe Caitlyn made a friend while she was staying here. The sound leads me to a tunnel with stairs. 

I hide beside the walls and peek up the tunnel. There in the middle of the stairs is Caitlyn with another woman. My eyes widen in joy. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I can’t contain my excitement. I found her! She’s alive and well! I open my mouth to excitedly shout her name, but quickly stop. 

Caitlyn places her hands on the woman’s hip, pulling her closer. She giggles again, biting the bottom of her lip. The woman sweetly smiles and leans her head closer. She kisses Caitlyn slowly, running her hands down her waist. 

Overwhelming sorrow sinks deep within me. My eyes become glossy, blurring my vision of them. My hand jerks up to grip my chest. It squeezes and pounds in pain. I never knew my heart could physically hurt. I gasp for air as I feel like I’m about to collapse. I lose my footing for a moment, sliding against the wall. I place a hand on the cold wall to hold myself.

I hear Caitlyn softly calling out my name in confusion. I quickly blink to clear my vision. Caitlyn walks down the stairs till she stands in front of me. She stares at me with a shocked expression. I feel myself forcing a stupid smile again. I squeeze my chest to numb the pain again. 

“…Hi,” I choke out. A failed attempt to sound happy. Her eyebrows furrow as she shakes her head.  

“What are you doing here?” She asks. I want to cry out laughing. How can she ask that question? It’s been longer than a year, did she lose track of time? Was she too busy? 

“Who is this?” The woman beside her asks. Caitlyn's eyes move back and forth anxiously. 

“…She’s just an enforcer,” Caitlyn reveals. I furrow my eyebrows in despair and disgust. I’m just an enforcer to her? 

Was all the lovely touches nothing to her? Did the day she cried on my lap mean nothing? Whose name did she moan out when I touched her? 

Without thinking I march up to her to push her. At least something to express my hurt, but the woman steps in front and shoves me hard. I slam against the wall and let out a small grunt. I already feel small and pathetic against her strength. 

“Wait, stop,” Caitlyn hurries to stop the woman. I peek up from my watery eyelashes, breathing heavily. 

“She’s lying,” I quietly laugh. The woman clenches her fist and walks up to me. She grabs a fistful of my jacket around my neck. I try clawing at her hands, but it was no use. She forces me to look at her. 

“Who are you?” She hisses again. A tear rolls down my cheeks. I would wipe it off, but my hand is wrapped around hers. I painfully smile again. 

“Her secret lover,” I choke out. I don’t have to keep it in anymore. The weight lifts off my shoulders. I had always wished the reveal was going to be for something better, nicer, and more beautiful. Yet we are here in the cold night air as I gasp for air. I take a peek at Caitlyn to see her face scrunch in guilt. The woman let go of me. I suck in a deep breath while sliding down to the ground. I grip my throat and tug the collar of my jacket away. I feel too suffocated by everything. 

I collect myself as much as I can before standing up again. I try to reach out and touch Caitlyn, but I pause and hesitate. My hands are shaking. I quickly bring it back to my chest to stop it from shaking so much. I lick my lips and look at her with pleading eyes. 

“I came to look for you,” I explain. 

“Why?” 

Why? 

“You were gone for more than a year! I was left wondering if you got hurt! I got worried,” I cry out. Caitlyn shifts her footing uncomfortably. She avoids my eyes by looking around. 

“Caitlyn…why are you being like this?” My voice cracks. The way she is treating me hurts so much. I don’t feel valued or special. As if… I’m just a nobody, just like how everyone else viewed me. I thought I was different to her. 

“Please talk to me!” I beg. A tear escaped from my eyes as I wept. I clench my chest to hold myself. She breathes heavily while her eyes dart around. She looks worried and guilty. 

“Was it because of her?” I direct it towards the woman, who scuffs in response. Caitlyn doesn’t reply. I take a step towards the woman, not understanding my actions. She clenches her jaw and rotates her wrist to get ready. Her eyes glisten against the street lights. Possession and challenge are evident on her face. I can tell she wants to fight me for Caitlyn. 

I am not backing down. I’ve trained hard for this. 

She swings her fist at me, but I dodge it. I launch my body to collapse her, but she wraps her arm around my waist. She elbows my back hard til I let go. She swings again and knocks the left side of my cheek. I stumble back and yelp in pain. I bring my hand up to cup my throbbing cheek. She is so quick and strong. With just one punch it sent me backward. I glare at her nervously. 

“Giving up so easily?” The woman laughs. I spit blood out my mouth and stand up again. She flickers her fingers to motion me forward. I swing my fist and she dodges, allowing her a clear shot at my stomach. I grunt and stumble back again. I gained my balance and I ran to her again, swinging recklessly. She punches my face near my nose. Pain shoots down my spine. I fall down and immediately grip my nose. Blood flows out and onto my hands. My chest moves up and down fast. I want to cry, but I choke it back when I look at Caitlyn. She stands with a worried look. She looks at me and the woman, pondering who she should care for more.

I need to prove I can be better. I need to show her I can protect her. I stumble to my feet, wiping my bloody nose with the back of my hand. 

The woman launches and lands a few punches on my face and stomach. I am gasping for air as I try to keep up. I try to swing to at least land one hit, but she easily dodges. Caitlyn watches me get beat up over and over. She looks away, clenching her eyes shut.

I failed her. 

I collapse onto the ground, choking out blood. Wheezing for air painfully. I knew I looked pitiful. Bruised, bloody, and crying. The woman looked untouched. I just embarrassed myself in front of Caitlyn. I try to get myself back up, but the pain pierces throughout my body. I stumble and fall again. I end up kneeling, my hands weak by my side. The woman tries to come to me again, but Caitlyn stops her by shoving her back. She begs her to stop hitting me. 

No, it shouldn’t have been this way. I needed to win to get her back. She can’t be the one begging for mercy. I had to be the winner. I can… 

I look down and watch my warm blood drip down onto the ground. Realization settles in my stubborn mind. 

I can’t protect her with these weak skills. I lost. 

Caitlyn's eyes shift and darken. She grips her fist and glares at me. She is angry that I am trying so hard to win her. That I allow myself to get beat up so badly knowing I can’t win- a fool so in love with her. I look up through my puffy and bloody eyes. I smile, feeling my lips crack open. 

“I’m sorry,” I wept. She forces herself to look away as tears roll down her face. Words continue to pour out from my lips. 

“I’m sorry I am not strong enough.

I’m sorry if… I ever embarrassed you.

I understand why you wanted us to be a secret… why you left and found someone who can protect you. 

I tried so hard to prove myself, but what’s the point anymore… I just simply can’t. 

People are right about me. They always were… and deep inside you knew it.” 

Tears continually roll down my cheeks. I could no longer fake a smile anymore. How can I put on a facade when I am evidently broken and weak? I bring my hands to my heart. An attempt to shield and comfort myself. My body shakes as I cry. I can’t blame her for hurting me. My understanding and naive heart is a curse made to ruin me. I loved too much and recklessly. It’s my fault.

Caitlyn brings a hand up to her mouth to silence her cries. She shakes her head. Millions of emotions crash in her mind, but she can't speak it out. It’s too late. She can not undo the mistakes she has made. 

The damage had already been made the moment she laid eyes on you. 

[timblrdrake]

You want a bug? Uh, the bugs I have on hand are mayflies, fruit flies, cicada husks, freeze dried mealworms, freeze dried blood worms, and freeze dried crickets. Tomorrow I'm catching fresh grasshoppers, katydids, and crickets if you want those instead

(Nonny nonny)

PS,

I'm not the one eating the bugs

see, initially i didn’t think you were the one eating the bugs, but now i kind of do.

i appreciate the offer but i’m okay, the anonsects need to find me on their own, it’s about the journey not the destination

[crossbackpoke-check]

yOu'Re gOiNg fOr a LiTeR? | "Habs react to Quebec Maple facts", 10.22.24

[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’ve been thinking about something lately

All the time I see people make statements about Percy that start with “Percy would never…”

Some examples I’ve seen: “percy would never kill someone/something in front of his mom” “percy would never yell at someone he loves” “percy would never get drunk” “percy would never let his child go to camp-half blood”

Now if you passionately believe one of those, hear me out. I’m not necessarily saying I disagree!

I’m saying… who would have ever thought Percy would torture a goddess and choke her on her own poison? And…. enjoy doing it? If someone had said that on tumblr pre-HoH, every single comment and reblog would have been “PERCY WOULD NEVER!!” I mean, who would have thought Percy would do a million things he’s done? He’s done some very not so ‘silly little guy’ stuff. He is an extremely complex character. In his own head and to some people, he’s sweet and fun and silly, but to many people he’s reckless and scary and dangerous. Some people see him as someone who’s very gentle and relaxed, but some people see him as someone who’s quick to get very angry and cause destruction. And the truth is, he’s all of it. It depends on his mood. Consistency does not apply to him in many aspects. He has consistent traits, like loyalty, humor, and bravery, but his actual actions and reactions are NOT consistent. I understand why we think Percy would never do certain things. We think we know based off of his past and his history with his mom, or with Gabe, or with Luke. And I’m not saying I think he would do those things, but unless he specifically states it, we can NOT, ever, infer what Percy Jackson might or might not do.

Like for instance, the drinking thing. I am not saying percy would be a big drinker, if one at all. And he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer because of how the apartment used to smell when he was young. But we have no evidence that Percy associates all alcohol with Gabe. Alcoholic drinks aren’t just foul smelling hard liquors. There are a million different forms that you can consume alcohol in - some of which don’t even smell like alcohol, and barely taste like it. And in The Chalice of the Gods, it’s said that Sally drinks a glass of wine every night. And Percy thinks Sally hangs the freaking moon. So if his mom drinks, he definitely doesn’t believe that alcoholic beverages = the enemy. And here’s the thing, if Annabeth and Piper and Leo were all drinking and having a good time, like college students do, and they go “Hey Percy, come sit and have a drink with us!” there’s a very good chance that he’s so comfortable with his best friends, and just wants to let loose and be a college kid, that he wouldn’t even think about Gabe. He’d just be like “Sounds fun! Count me in!” But I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. I truly think it could go either way. And even if he does drink, maybe he never - not even once - gets drunk. Maybe he’d drink in college and as a young adult, but when he becomes a father one day, he decides he doesn’t want his children to ever smell so much as a drop of alcohol on his breath, and therefore completely stops drinking. Or maybe he doesn’t ever like it, even in college. Or maybe he’s like his mom, and he and Annabeth just have a glass of wine with dinner. Who knows?

Not us. That’s what I’m saying. WE don’t know.

I’m not saying we can’t have headcanons based on what we know about him. I have a million. But the point is, I feel like we can’t try to pretend like we actually know what Percy wouldn’t do. As a fandom, we analyze him and his choices WAY more than he ever thinks about a single choice. He definitely does not think about his life and his actions as much as we do. (I’m not saying that he’s dumb or doesn’t contemplate his life and his actions, but he doesn’t nearly do it to the degree that we do.) Us, we pretend like it’s simple math. (Our first mistake, since math is consistent and full of rules, which is the exact opposite of Percy’s character.) We go “okay luke did this and gabe did this so therefore percy would never do this.” But Percy doesn’t think that way most of the time, especially not in heat of the moment matters. The only thing we 100% know about Percy is that he will always be loyal to his loved ones. But even then, we don’t know what that loyalty will look like. Is it sacrificing himself for someone? Is it murdering the enemy? Is it manipulating someone else? Percy lives in the moment. He doesn’t often think too much before he acts. He just acts. Whether it’s in a life of death situation, or his after school activity for the day. He is unpredictable, like the ocean. It’s one of his defining traits.

Honestly, I think that’s why annabeth is so drawn to him. With everyone else, she can read them super easily and know their next move. But with Percy, she has no idea. Which is frustrating to her, but also exciting. It’s a big part of her initial attraction to him. It’s also why many of us like him so much. We don’t know what’s coming next, and we never know what he will do in a situation. Like, how could we possibly know what he would or wouldn’t do when HE doesn’t even know? Half the time I don’t think Rick himself even knows.

We become so sure that Percy wouldn’t do something because we understand his character so well, right? But I think the truth is, the minute we become certain about what Percy would or wouldn’t do, is the minute we don’t understand his character at all.

Thank you for reading my analysis of Percy on why we can’t reliably analyze Percy

[shadowbriar]

Diego Hargreeves - Patches

Pairing : Diego Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.2k Warning : None. Notes : This might be the introduction of a story I'm working on. I cannot guarantee that I'll have the commitment to continue until it's end so don't have too much hope for this. I am open if you have any The Umbrella Academy requests at the moment, so do hit me up! If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

He got eight of them.

For the longest time in her life, she’s never understood the silly yet cruel joke life cursed upon her. To be able to heal everyone but herself, no matter the wound or injury one might have, she’ll cure it in no time, so long as it wasn’t inflicted on her.

Once, it wasn’t this pathetic nor lonely. She had her brothers and sisters to weather to storm through. There were Pogo and Mum to share cookies and stories with. It’s been years since she felt such comfort and to have to drag her feet back to the house that had turned itself from a warm home into a prison before the last days of her departure is surely weighing on her heart.

“Welcome home, dear.”

Her heart was filled with warmth once the familiar motherly voice greets her. The corners of her lips curved into a big smile as she dropped her bags, running to the dearly missed figure, “Mum.”

It took the bot a couple seconds to return the embrace. No doubt that she’s been lacking a lot of upgrades ever since she left. When the two broke the hug, she stared at the ageless caregiver with fulfilled eyes as it stared back at her with its bright smile, blank and not blinking. This might have been the most home she could feel while she’s here.

“You’re not supposed to come,” another voice echoes from the stairs.

“Diego, that’s not very nice.” Mum scolded lightly “Your sister has returned to us.”

The boy showed a thin smile to the bot, patting her lightly on the shoulder, “I think Pogo was looking for you, Mum.”

With a slight nod, the android excused herself out of the room.

Now if Grace’s presence lightened her heart, the sight of this black suited man certainly plummets it.

“You look awful,” She greets, noticing the scars that litter his face “Surely couldn’t find a better nurse than me now, can you?”

“Please,” Diego snorted “You’re more of a deadweight than a nurse, if ever.”

Ouch.

She lets out an exasperated exhale, folding her hands in front of her chest in defence, “Well, I’m not here for you and I don’t take joy either on coming back to this circus, so if you could just get yourself off that non-existent high horse—”

Before she could finish her words, Diego had already walked away as if she wasn’t there to begin with. His back becomes the abundant evidence that whatever bad blood they had years ago is still staining his skin.

It wasn’t always like this, him and her. In fact, they were the inseparable two growing up. If Luther had Allison, Diego had her. The many times she healed his wounds had led them to grow closer as the years went by. He was the one with the most injury to heal, after all. The most careless in battle out of the eight, never backing down from a close combat. Though he would always come out triumphant, a little cut here and there would be something he never escaped from.

“Don’t mind him, he’s giving us all the sour comments,” Allison said as she linked her arms to her “I’m glad to see you.”

She smiles at her sister, squeezing her hand slightly in reassurance, “As I am to see you.”

—-

“You should really learn how to dodge a punch, Diego,” She says as she runs her thumb through his bruise “One of these days you’re going to go home and I may not be able to heal you.”

“Is that a loss on your part or my part?”

Her eyebrow rose, purposely pressing on his bruise without healing it that he winces a little, “Or maybe I just won’t heal you, that’s definitely a loss on your part.”

“As if you’ll ever do that.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Diego tries his best to bite the grin but it proved to be an even harder task than to back out of a fight. He stares at her fondly, finding the jitters in his stomach to amplify the longer he stares yet it feels impossible for him to break the contact. Perhaps she casts a little of her magic everytime she heals him.

“Don’t stare at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Like Klaus stares at a bottle of gin,” She says, now examining his other cuts “Like I stare at Mum’s cookies.”

Diego smiles.

“Like Luther stares at Allison.”

“Would it be so bad if I stare that way?”

The wake from the unintended nap hurts her head. Her bed is much smaller than she last remembered with her feet slightly dangling on the edge and how the pillows have certainly lost their fluffiness. Everything in her room stays the same yet at the same time, everything has changed.

—-

Diego defeatedly threw himself to the sofa. He sighs, his knuckles cracking as he tries to ball his fists. The tidal wave of emotions were beating him black and blue in silence. It feels as if he was swallowed by a giant blackhole with no light nor guidance to get out of.

There was no need for him to be rude to her, he knew that. He didn’t want to do it, but seeing her back in their house, hugging and talking to Grace, hurts. It took him years to try and ignore the ghost of her. She was the one force that would fuel his mornings and ease him to sleep at night. She was the one soul that he would always go to seek refuge. She was the one that he would lay his life on the line for without a second of doubt.

But he had to lose it all after one stupid night.

A night that he would never be able to grow out of, both from the horror and the guilt. Diego shut himself out for days following that terrifying night, locking his doors and skipping meals as he tries to think of all the what-if scenarios.

What if he stayed home that night?

What if he forced her to stay home that night?

What if he saved her before she saved him?

What if?

Mindlessly, he reaches for a knife on his left chest. It was a stranger to the rest of his knives collection. Compared to the polished lightweight knives he tucked in his suit, this one butter knife was rather dull. It would serve no harm to anyone, yet he kept it closest to his heart as if it was his most prized possession.

Diego stared at the knife. His brows knitted, examining the item as if it held the answer to all of his questions. Or perhaps some guidance. Anything to help him keep his sanity and not lose the plot now that she’s back in his life. Was she staying or was she leaving for the night? He wasn’t sure. But even if she is leaving, the hours he’d have to spend with her would suffocate nonetheless.

His thumb traces the engraving on the knife’s handle. A little trace of an infinite loop that had somehow become his stress outlet: the number eight.

[zara-renata]

How you learned to stop worrying and embrace Sylus Qin | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary: Sylus reveals his latest little plot and makes you an offer that you ultimately can't refuse. More lying around talking in different beds with Sylus Qin.

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV We've moved past the enemies part of enemies to friends to lovers, now we're into slow-burn friends-to-lovers territory This story contains: as the summary says, lying around and talking in a bed, and then not on a bed, boundary crossing typical of Sylus, which means you ultimately consent but he still should have talked to you first, but in his defense he pulled this bullshit before your Q&A with him, an mc with self esteem issues, sexual tension, profanity, mentions of being physically and mentally unwell.

As you lie on your side with Sylus in his sprawling, unlikely greenhouse, feeling his heart beating steadily under your hand and his soft breath against your chest, you’re tempted to stay like this for as long as he'll allow. To just call in sick and rest here until he gets bored and kicks you out. In this pocket of space-time that is just yours, shared with the person who is quickly becoming your most favorite creature in the universe. But you’re responsible. And needed. You can’t leave your team in a lurch, especially if Xavier is still away on one of his secretive little forays to who-knows-where, doing who-knows-what.

You sigh and can’t help yourself as you lean in a little and breathe in the scent of Sylus’s soft hair. Warmth, and that faint undercurrent of oranges that you now know comes from his shower products. Bright and tart. Just like him.

“You can use my shampoo, if you like it so much,” he murmurs, shifting a little until his cheek is resting against your chest over your heart. His stubble is a cat’s tongue along your skin above the edge of your tank top.

“How generous,” you smile, hating the idea that you need to get up and somehow get home. You have no idea what time it is, or even what day it is at this point. You think Sunday, maybe?

“Why so surprised? You should know at least that much about me, by now,” he grumbles.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. How could I forget, with your insistence on sharing so many things with me, even if such things were unasked for, or even dare I say, unwanted.”

“I like to anticipate your needs,” he says smugly. “And sometimes you don’t even know what you want until it's given it to you.”

“Yes, like blood in my foyer, feathers in my bed, and intense embarrassment during your business meetings.”

He lifts his head and looks up into your face. “What about an earring that you stopped wearing?” he asks, eyes shifting to the now empty piercing in the same ear in which you wore his ruby for a little while, before you thought he was dreaming about someone else.

You hate thinking about it, now. You had changed his name in your phone, and taken the ruby stud out of your ear and left it hidden in a bathroom drawer. It seems so silly, and petty now. A sad little attempt at controlling something in your life, when you couldn’t control your feelings, or his. As if by removing evidence of his gift, you could remove the sting of rejection. You don’t know how to answer him, because you don’t want to explain why you stopped wearing it. It doesn’t matter now. Now he’s your friend, and he has promised not to hurt you again in the ways that matter. So what, if he has romantic feelings for someone else? Him, here with you now—that’s enough for you, for now.

“And the pistol I engraved for you. You were strapped with it tonight, but you haven’t used it since I gave it to you.”

This, you don’t want to talk about either. The gun he gave you is beautiful. But you still can’t stand the sound of a gunshot so loud in your ears. It’s also probably illegal, and not something you can use during your official hunter duties if it’s unregistered or modified against regulations. You look away, letting your gaze wander to the plants spreading beyond the tiled clearing where you lie in the swinging garden bed, as if in some fairy tale or cheesy romance novel.

“How do you get all these plants to grow, since the N109 Zone doesn’t experience sunlight? The torches along the paths can’t be enough to sustain this much vegetation,” you ask, hoping he’ll let his current line of questioning die.

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his stare on your face. “When I’m not here, there are grow lamps programmed to activate in an imitation of the day-night cycle of the natural habitat of the plants in this part of the greenhouse. I deactivate the system when I come in here, because the lights… are not pleasant for me.” He pauses and squeezes your hand. “There are smaller partitions within the main greenhouse to accommodate the plants that can’t handle the level of light, heat and humidity out here. Spend some time exploring, if you’re curious about this area of the base.”

You wonder if you’ll have the time anytime soon, to come back and take him up on his offer. Now that you know—to a certain extent—what was going on in his head during the first few days you spent in his base, and now that he has promised that he won’t ever pull that bullshit again, you are willing to try to see if you can be in his house without being on the verge of a heart attack. It’s only fair, if you’re going to be friends, that you visit him instead of him always having to come into Linkon City, with its bright sunshine and his wanted posters plastered in every administrative building. Even if they don’t feature his stupidly handsome face. Maybe spending time here, in this place that is so different from the rest of the sprawling house, would be a good start. But you have no idea when you’ll be able to make it back here again.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer, someday.” You fall quiet, and the only sounds are the water rippling from the soft flow of the fountain and the call of birds high up in the foliage.

Just as you think you’ve successfully derailed Sylus’s line of questioning, he picks it up again. “If you don’t want to answer my questions, you can just say so.” He sits up on his elbow so that he can lean over you and your hand falls away from his heart, but it’s still shackled to his wrist by the evol linkage. His hand falls with yours. “But if you’d like to tell me, and just don’t know how to say the words, we can play a game.”

You tense. “What kind of game?”

“The kind where I ask you specific questions, and if I ask them in a way that makes you feel like you can answer, then I win.”

“And what do you win?” You’re intrigued, despite yourself. You notice the tie keeping his dark, silk pants tied around his waist has loosened a little. Without thinking, you reach out and gently pull one of the ends between your fingers, just to have something to do with your hand. Your knuckles brush against his firm abdomen, and the soft silver hair there. His muscles underneath your touch shudder and contract as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“As enjoyable as that might be, that’s not what I want to win from this game,” he says softly, covering your hand in his and guiding it away from the waistband of his pants.

Realizing what it just looked like you were implying, you try to jerk your hand out of his like it’s on fire, but he holds it tightly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking, that’s not what I—”

“I’m not interested in hearing apologies from you.” His eyes search yours. “Ever.”

All you can do is stare at him, because once again, you feel like he’s trying to tell you something in code and you just don’t have the key to decipher it. “But what if I do something that hurts you?”

“You will never be able to hurt me in a way that warrants an apology.” You open your mouth to protest, but he continues. “If you’re that worried about it, let’s make a deal. If I ever want to hear you say sorry, I’ll ask you for it.”

You feel like he just steamrolled you and normally you'd keep bickering with him, but you honestly do not have the capacity to spar with him on this point tonight. So you just nod.

He deigns to accept your agreement with a little haughty sniff, as if he can’t believe he had to review with you how invincible he is to anything you could do to him. “And to answer your original question, I win your honest answer,” he says, running his thumb along the back of your hand—you’re starting to wonder if such contact is to soothe you, or himself. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, still embarrassed despite his reassurance and trying to remember what the hell you were even talking about before you groped his clothing. “And if you don’t manage to ask the right questions?”

“Then you don’t have to answer, and can keep your secrets until you’re ready to play again.”

“This is not a very interesting game for you,” you groan, rolling away from him, but he keeps hold of your hand, so your arm is now pulled awkwardly behind you as you face away from him. He can keep the damn thing.

“That’s rather bold of you, kitten. Even you don’t get to decide what’s interesting to me.”

You look over your shoulder at him and scowl.

“Oh, I’ll keep going to keep that look on your face,” he taunts. “What, are you mad that only I get to decide what I find interesting?”

You roll back over so he can’t collect his reward from your face, and he just laughs softly behind you.

Do you want to talk about the earring? No. You’re going to help him win over his crush, and then you’ll keep the little ruby in the same way you’ll keep these memories of him: cherished, safe, and hidden in a drawer for when you want to remind yourself that you were able to live this dream, for a little while.

But you don’t want him to think you don’t appreciate the earring, or the gun. “Fine. I’ll play this guessing game with you. But not right now, please. I’m so tired, and I need to get going.”

“How about you stay with me instead.” It’s phrased like a question, but his tone sounds like a command.

“What? I can’t. I told you, I have to work. Do you think I could borrow one of your vehicles to get back home tonight?” You look longingly at the plants through the gauzy drapes, not looking forward to a cold, dark drive home.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“Like what day it is? Yeah, I think that’s just one of many things I’m forgetting.”

In response, he just leisurely lifts your linked wrists. 

You roll over yet again, facing him, and groan.

“Make that noise again,” he teases, lightly cuffing your wrist with his thumb and forefinger.

You ignore him. “Fuck, we really need to figure out how to sever the link at will, instead of just… waiting to fall asleep. Which seems to be the only thing that releases the damn thing.”

“Do we?” He pulls your hand up so he can rest his full lips against your knuckles.

You absolutely refuse to let him distract you this time. This is your job. This is your life. “Don’t you find it inconvenient every single time this happens? Surely there are better things you want to do.” 

“Are there?” he murmurs into your skin.

“Take this seriously, please!”

“Am I not?”

You have the urge to kick him off the bed, but with the linkage, you’d just go over the edge with him. Normally you might be that petty and willing to take the hit, but tonight you’re exhausted. What you need to do is focus on a solution. First, gathering intel. “What time is it? What day is it, even?”

Sylus sighs and lowers your linked hands to his pants pocket and slips his own hand inside, leaving your palm with nowhere to go but on his hip. You refuse to think about the solid warmth underneath the cool fabric, and how easy it would be to keep sliding your hand further down, and everything you would be able to feel along the way.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and you’re released from the torture. “It’s five in the morning. And it’s Sunday.”

You let out a breath of relief. It’s not in the middle of Sunday night like you feared. You must not have slept that long, before you woke up in Sylus’s bed. “Great, then all we have to do is take a nap, or I guess you just have to go to sleep as usual, and I’ll nap again. Then when the link is gone, can I borrow a vehicle to get back to Amnesia? I need to get my bike back.”

“What’s the rush?” Sylus asks, apparently uninterested in your efficient plan to get your life back on track before you head back to work. He scoots closer to you again, resting his head on the pile of pillows, linked wrist pulled up between the two of you near his face.

“There’s stuff I have to prep for, before a long work week. Laundry. Groceries. Watering the plants.”

“How are you going to work with your feet injured?”

You flex your toes, and yeah, your feet sting from the cuts, but you’ve worked through much worse injuries. The key is just to keep the bandages clean and regularly changed. “I’ve had worse. It’ll be fine.”

Sylus sighs again. “You really shouldn’t be working if you’re injured at all, kitten.”

“It’s really fine.”

“It’s really not.”

You’re starting to get annoyed. “Okay, I appreciate that you’re trying to express your concern for me, but it’s not up to you whether or not I’m fit for work. It’s up to my boss. And she’s fine with me working like this too.” You try to soften your voice, because despite your irritation, you can recognize that he’s trying to look out for you. And unlike this guy, you’re nice. “So thank you, really. But it’s my fault I’m hurt in the first place, and I’ll deal with it.”

“Mmm, must suck being wrong not just once, but three times in the span of ten minutes,” he rewards your attempted kindness with a taunt. 

You again resist the urge to kick him off the bed, because you’re trying to be fucking nice here. You narrow your eyes instead. “Oh, I didn’t know I was in the presence of ye mighty, all-knowing master of truth,” you snark.

“Oh?” he perks up. “I like the sound of that. Does this ‘Master’ title also come with your obedience?” He sounds way too pleased at the thought.

Okay, that’s enough being nice. You draw up your knee and plant one leg on the bed while grabbing his forearm with your linked hand. You roll, jerking him with you fast enough that his momentum causes his body to roll on top of yours—for a moment, you experience what it’s like to have the full weight of his big body pressing you into the mattress, and it’s so overwhelming good that you almost pause to savor it, but you’re a fucking professional. You keep the momentum going by thrusting with your hips into a bridge and send him sailing over the edge of the bed. As he goes, you roll with him but plant one knee into the mattress to halt yourself before going over the edge. He ends up dumped over the side of the bed on his ass with a grunt, but you’re starfished on your stomach on the bed with just your linked arm hanging over the edge of the mattress. For a moment you’re worried about how hard the tiles are, and that you might have just hurt him, but then you picture his thick ass and reassure yourself that all that cake must have cushioned the fall. He’ll live. Right? Okay, now you want to pull him up and pat his butt… to soothe any pain, not because you just want to able to touch his—

Suddenly you’re yanked by your wrist from your position on the bed with a yelp, and despite scrabbling with your free hand to prevent your descent, you’re suddenly ungraciously sprawled across Sylus’s big chest, your legs straddling his lap as he sits supporting himself with his unlinked hand behind him.

You plant your hands on his chest and push yourself up, trying desperately not to squeeze his huge pecs like your hands are aching to do.

He looks at you smugly, but there is a pink flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. It must be because of how warm it is in here. “I’ll take that as a no,” he smiles, clearly pleased with himself for having dragged you down with him.

“That’s a no,” you scowl, pretending that you are completely unfazed by this position, by his big warm… lap underneath you, his soft skin and chest hair under your hands, his face so close to yours. This is an everyday experience for you. Straddling a big, half-naked, handsome warlord with your robe open, falling off your shoulders, pooling around the both of you.

You need to focus. You’re so focused right now. On getting home, not his big half-hard dick between your thighs. FUCK.

“I need to go home.” You breathe very slowly. Because you’re calm. You’re a block of ice. You will not melt into him. You will not think about why he is apparently afflicted with a partial boner. He seems untroubled by it, so you refuse to acknowledge it, even to yourself.

“You need to stay with me,” he counters, despite the scowl you’re still giving him. “Are you not even going to ask me what else you’re wrong about tonight?” he asks, tilting his head. His silky hair falls across his forehead.

You close your eyes. You’re focused. You’re learning that if you don’t answer Sylus’s questions the first time, he will simply keep asking until you do. You’re an ice sculpture. Ice sculptures are immovable, poised and out of reach. They don’t squirm in their friend’s lap, just to see if there will be a a bigger reaction—

“What else am I wrong about, Sylus?” you ask, eyes still closed against the dream spread out underneath you.

“Look at me,” the dream says. For some reason, you don’t hesitate and obey his command. His pupils are large in the low light of the torch-lit greenhouse, so his eyes are like the color of the most heady wine. “It’s my fault that you’re hurt, not yours. And technically, it’s up to Dr. Iceman to decide whether you’re fit to work or not, not your captain.”

Now, you do actually freeze, everything else forgotten. “Dr… Iceman?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that only you can assign silly nicknames to people,” Sylus lifts his hand and taps you on the forehead, bringing your wrist up with his.

“What do you mean, it’s up to Zayne to decide whether I’m fit for work?” You suddenly have a very, very bad feeling.

He narrows his wine-dark eyes. “Zayne, is it? Not Dr. Li?” 

You just stare at him. It’s his turn to answer questions, now. 

“I noticed that you also have him listed as ‘Zayne’ in your phone,” he says as if he’s bored while admitting that he’s been nosing around in your phone again. “And what I mean is just what I said. It’s not your captain, but your primary care physician who signs your fitness for duty certificates. If ‘Zayne’ refuses to certify you as fit, you don’t have to go to work.” He emphasizes Zayne’s name, as if to underline what he thinks of you calling your childhood friend and doctor by his first name instead of his title. And what he thinks doesn’t sound entirely approving. Well tough shit, if you don’t get to determine what he finds interesting, he doesn’t get to judge what you call your friends. Even if Zayne doesn’t seem to think of you as friends anymore, you will always care for him and the little boy you knew all those years ago.

“Zayne hasn’t refused to sign any of my health certificates since he became my doctor, so I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.” Thinking about Zayne, and how he treats you with such long-suffering coldness now, you suddenly don’t want to be on Sylus’s lap anymore. You sit back, letting your hand fall away from his chest. He breathes in sharply, and grabs your wrist to force you to sit still.

“Although he has failed in this regard up until now,” he says, voice dripping in disdain. “That’s no longer true, as of last night.”

You don’t need Sylus to hold you in place to keep you still now. Ice water courses through your veins.

“What the fuck does that mean, Sylus? This isn’t funny.”

He narrows his eyes at your cold tone. “Does it look like I’m laughing?”

“No, which is why you’re going to explain, right now, what the fuck you've done.”

“Your doctor has agreed that you should go on indefinite medical leave. Your captain has been informed, and agreed. As of tomorrow, you’re on sick leave until you're actually fit for duty again.”

You just stare at him. Mind empty, breath stopped, shoulders tensed to your ears.

“And it looks like you could really use it right about now.” Sylus gifts you with one of his subtle smiles and lets his hands drift up your shoulders, your shackled wrist going with his. He gently urges you to relax them by pressing down. “Stay with me, instead of going home tonight.”

“You don’t get to make this type of decision for me. How did you even pull this off? This is my job. This is my life. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You can’t seem to resist his gentle, firm press against your shoulders, despite how rigid you currently feel. You're a piano wire garrotte strung too tight, caught in a block of ice.

“It’s not your life, sweetheart,” he cups your shoulders in his big palms, stroking his thumbs along your skin. “It’s your calling, but it’s not your entire life. And again, you don’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Explain how this happened, Sylus.” You’re basically pleading with him, hoping that you’re wrong about what you now are almost certain he has done.

“You’ve already texted your doctor asking for medical leave.”

You flinch. “What?”

“And you should probably get your hearing checked while you’re on medical leave,” Sylus muses.

“Sylus!”

“Yes, the jewel in the crown of my heart?”

“What do you mean, I texted Zayne?” Your voice is strangely high in your ears.

“Exactly that. You texted him. While you were sleeping last night. You’re really a great multitasker, I’m impressed.” He widens his eyes as if to emphasize his admiration.

“You can’t do things like this, Sylus!” You put your uncuffed hand back on his chest and push, just a little, almost futilely. You don’t want to hurt him. You’re shocked that he crossed such a huge boundary before you woke up. He’s crossed so many boundaries before, but has never interfered with your work. Even so, you don’t want to cause him pain.

He lifts a hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek in his big, warm palm. “I can do things like this. I already showed you when I was at your place that I can do things like this. And I did this because your calling is going to fucking kill you if you don’t take the time to recover, physically and emotionally, before you return to it. I did this, because you won't do it for yourself.”

“This wasn’t your call to make.” You’re an iceberg, adrift, thinking about an indefinite stretch of time before you, with nothing to do, just you alone with your thoughts. Because you know that you can’t undo whatever he has done. If Zayne has already agreed, and Jenna has been notified, what possible explanation can you give for showing up to work tomorrow that doesn't sound insane?

“It was a text, not a call,” the pedantic ass corrects you. “And sure, let's say it wasn't my call to make, for the sake of argument. But it is your doctor’s. And he fully supports you taking extended medical leave. It’s a good thing I asked him, because it’s clear from the way he almost didn’t believe that it was you asking that you’d never do this for yourself,” he says, shamelessly indignant that Zayne correctly didn’t initially believe that it was you making the request over text. 

“And he was right,” you bite out. “It wasn’t me asking.”  Despite your helpless anger at what he has done, you let yourself lean into his touch, lifting your hand to circle his wrist and just resting your cheek in his hand. “Why did you do this, when I wasn’t even injured yet? I was still asleep. My feet were fine. I was fine.”

“No matter how many times you repeat that, it isn’t going to suddenly be true.” He murmurs, seeming to sense your pliability. He pulls the arm you’re holding towards himself, as if he knows you’ll go with it, and his hand falls away from your cheek. Instead, he’s now encircling you, holding you against his chest with his free arm. “You haven’t been fine for a long time, sweetheart. It’s time for you to admit that.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the warm scent of his skin. Something about the way he smells is so calming, despite how distraught you are at the weeks yawning ahead of you now, an abyss of time and memories you’ve barely been able to claw at the precipice of for all these long months.

“Have you not used the gun I gave you because the noise of a gunshot triggers flashbacks of the bombing?” he suddenly asks, holding you even tighter, caging you against him in case you try to pull away.

You stiffen, but instead of pulling away, you turn your head and bury your face in his neck. You can’t answer. He asked the perfect question—all you have to do is say yes. You want to say yes. You don’t want him to think you’re ungrateful for his beautiful gift, but the words won’t come. But you agreed to play this game. He asked the perfect question to allow you to easily answer.

You clench your teeth and nod, just a little.

“I win,” he gloats softly, smiling into your hair. “Thank you.”

You still can’t say anything, but you feel a strange sense of relief, like pulling off a bandage and seeing that the wound underneath has been healing nicely when you were afraid it might have been infected.

“You made a deal with me tonight. If you don’t want something from me, you promised to honestly tell me. I did this before we had that conversation, but you can still say no. I’m not going to keep you captive here, and force you to take time to focus on recovering from everything you’ve gone through this year.” He runs his fingers up and down your back, warm even through the cool silk of your robe. “But can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to stay here with me and just take a break? That you don’t want to take advantage of the medical leave to let your feet heal, and to spend some time away from the stress and risks of your everyday life? You can think of it as a well-deserved vacation.”

You lift your head, straightening a little to look into his earnest face. “You would want me to stay here?”

"Oh, my kitten's hearing is actually fine," he laughs softly. “I thought I made that clear, with the three times I asked you to stay with me.”

Once again, you’re struck by how little you understand this man, even after your long talk tonight. You know he doesn’t hate you now. That he has no intention to hurt you again. He seems to even like you, as a person, and not just as someone who will be useful as an ally someday, or as a guinea pig for trying out romantic gestures. Your mind drifts to your shampoo and conditioner in his shower, and that brief flash of hope that he may care for you as more than a tool. As a person. You remember in the shower, wondering if he may care for you as maybe more than just... you can't let your mind go there. But you can't help but think of him caressing your skin with his thumb, and wondering if he gained reassurance from it too. He told you to ask questions when you have them. So you do. “But why?”

His gaze drifts from your eyes, to your mouth. Then he looks away, seeming to leisurely take in the wild life all around you, eyes narrowed in thought. “I’m never bored when you’re around,” he says, the picture of casual.  He returns to looking at you, his lovely eyes searching yours.

Of course. You weren’t hoping for any other answer. That sudden weight in your stomach—it isn’t disappointment. You’re amusing, a sideshow: come one, come all, behold the strange deadly jester! You’re useful when maintained properly. That’s why he keeps showing up to spend time with you, and why he’d want you wandering around his base for weeks at a time. Your mind drifts back to Luke and Kieran showing you the psychology book about people who can have everything they want. How they enjoy a challenge. You’re just friends, after all. He’s just asking a friend in need to relax at his place, and in return he will get some amusement from it. Maybe he views you as a sniper rifle with broken components. A little side project, a fixer-upper. He probably has all sorts of people drifting around the place to satisfy his whims and need for entertainment. Not that you’ve ever seen anyone at the base besides Luke and Kieran, but you spent most of your time here previously in a locked room. What do you know? “You’re in that dire need of entertainment?”

“Not when you’re around,” he tugs gently on a lock of your hair. “So, will you accept my gift of a surprise holiday and stay with me?” 

You just stare at him, trying to sift through your feelings. Do you want to take a break, in a place far removed from your silent apartment, from your deadly job? Not that the N109 Zone isn’t deadly, but… Sylus will be close, and there will likely be other people in and out to give you some measure of relief from the thoughts in your head. Even though he’s inviting you to stay in a place you just tried desperately to escape, a place which still gives you anxiety when you think too hard about it. But this time will be different, right? He says he wants you here. As far as you can tell, he doesn’t want anything else from you besides dodgy dating advice, and for you to be around to entertain him once in a while when he isn’t preoccupied with business. The place is huge. He said he has a gym. And this greenhouse… you can spend all the time you want in here. Weren't you just thinking how nice it would be, if you could stay here until he tires of you, in your own little pocket universe of frozen time? There are worse ways to spend a convalescent leave. Your mind returns to the most appealing part—Sylus will be close.   

Apparently you’re taking too long to answer, because he tugs on your hair a little again. “Yes? No?—” you bring your hands up and cover his mouth before he can say “Maybe so,” because he apparently has limited lines at his disposal for being a little shit and you don’t want to hear this particular line from him again right now. He lifts an eyebrow, and suddenly you feel his warm tongue sliding wetly up your palm.

All at once you’re very aware, again, of how you’re sitting in his lap, with all of his bulk underneath you. That the soft warm skin and fur of his chest is under your forearms as you hold your hands to his plush lips. The feel of his tongue along your skin sends a jolt through you that takes you by such surprise that you rock against him with your hips, once, without even realizing that your body has simply moved on its own to get what it suddenly desperately wants. His tongue disappears from your palm but his breath hitches and he makes a low sound, deep in his throat.

You freeze and stare into his eyes. You don’t dare move, your palm still pressed against his full lips. You think you see a pink flush creeping up his cheeks beyond your hands, but again, it’s probably just because it’s so warm in the greenhouse.

This is just a dream, you tell yourself. His arm around you. This beautiful place, filled with thriving, living things. His hard warmth underneath you. He’s offering you a dream, for a little while. He’s inviting you into his world, as he invited you into sleep before, to help you rest, to refill your empty tank. Every weapon needs maintenance. Every tool has a breaking point if overused. You know, deep down, that he’s right about you not being fine. Maybe if you let him lull you into this dream for a little while, when you wake up you’ll be able to bear returning to the cold solitude of your useful life. You can hold the memory of this dream close to you, to warm you through the long years after he flies so far ahead of you that you’re unable to catch him. When whoever he loves begins flying by his side.

The thought of turning down his offer, and driving away from him right now, is suddenly excruciating. It won’t hurt anyone, taking a little bit of the comfort he so easily offers for yourself, right? His future lover won’t have to know about the tool he stored in his home, amidst all the other weapons in his arsenal, for just a little while. You’ll stay out of everyone’s way—no one will notice you here, and no one will notice when you’re gone.

You don’t think you deserve it, but you decide to be selfish. Just this once. The only person who will be hurt in the end is you. You’ll indulge in this little dream, just for a little while.

Suddenly you feel the slick of his tongue in your hand again. “Ith thith your anther?” Sylus asks from behind your palm. You careen back into the awareness of your body. You jerk your hands away and scramble off of him, landing on your ass on the pretty, colorful tiles.

As you go, you realize he isn’t coming with you. You look down at your wrist—the evol linkage has dissolved.

Sylus sits in the same position, leisurely sitting on the tiles next to the garden bed. He rubs his wrist with his other hand thoughtfully. “Is this your answer?” he repeats.

You take a deep breath. “Yes.” Just for a little while. You’ll take a little break. You’ll live the dream of going on dates with Sylus. Of being welcome in his house. Of not having to fight, every single day, just to survive. And since this is all just a dream anyway, you'll indulge in some of the things you'd never allow yourself while awake. You'll allow yourself the dream that each date is real. That each caress from his rough hands is meant for you, and only you. When he does finally get bored with you, you’ll go, and you’ll be grateful for the memories, each a little jewel that you'll tuck away in a safe place, to be taken out and admired when you're missing him and this bright, impossible dream the most.

"Why do you look so sad, if it's a yes?"

You try to steel your expression. "Sad? I'm not sad. Just—tired." That's not a complete lie. But Sylus shakes his head and gracefully gets to his feet. He offers you his hand. You just stare at it.

"New rule. You can lie to everyone else in your life, but not to me." He beckons you with his hand.

"Oh, I have to follow rules, but you don't?" You flick your gaze disdainfully from his hand to his face.

"My rules are always sensible. And I told you, give me a list of rules that make sense, and I'll follow them. I'm still waiting, for both the list, and for your hand." He motions with his hand again, this time impatiently. You just lean back, with all the time in the world now.

"Are you sad because you made the questionable fashion decision of leaving your ruby earring at home?"

The unexpected question startles a laugh out of you. "Yeah, Sylus. That's why I'm sad," you lie again. But your heart feels a little lighter at his obvious attempt to make you smile. You finally give in and take his offered hand, pulling yourself to your feet. The pain in your feet distracts you from any lingering pain in your chest. He must catch your wince, because you're swept into his arms again.

"Take mine," he says, turning his head to show you the stud that is still in his ear. You've been so distracted tonight that you didn't clock that he was still wearing it. "Until we retrieve yours from your home." He carries you back through the greenhouse, galoshes that he slipped back into before leaving the clearing crunching on the winding slate path.

You wonder why he's so insistent that you wear it, but also strangely touched that he is. "Okay. But I'm not taking that thing out of your ear while you're carrying me. And you really, really don't need to carry me until my feet are fully healed. This is one of those times I'm telling you no, I honestly don't need this from you. Okay?"

His only response is to hold you tighter and turn his head back towards you so he can run his nose briefly along your temple. "Fine," he says. "Starting tomorrow. For now, let's get some sleep. It's been a long night, and if you're going to be here with me, you need to align your sleep schedule with mine."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," he says. Efficient. Simple. With the utmost confidence. The essence of Sylus Qin.

"Okay," you sigh, relaxing into his arms. You'll take what he is offering, a gift to yourself, for just for a little while. You relish in the strength in his arms, the safety of his heartbeat against your body, the peace of having everything already decided without you having to do a thing. Just for a little while.

"Welcome to my world now, kitten," he says, his voice a purr of satisfaction, with a finality that sounds like a door slamming shut and the handle falling off, rolling leisurely, useless on the floor.

***

end notes: I promise that now that I've finished the exhaustive setup of addressing Sylus's main chapter in-game bullshit and the change of venue from Linkon City to the N109 Zone, more action will start happening! We have a tank! Sylus has a swimming pool and an armory! We will be getting a black card! We have a birthday party to attend! There are dates that must go sideways!

[hearts4hughes]

green-eyed boy | jack hughes

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which jack’s jealousy takes control of him when you grow closer to an old friend.

note: this is so rushed and short, but i was in need of some jealousy jack on this rainy monday. i apologize for any mistakes in the writing, i wrote this whole watching the bruins’ game tonight.

jealousy had consumed him, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. it all began with seemingly insignificant occurrences, like you exchanging texts and snapchats with your old friend, dominic. gradually, it escalated into something more significant—breakfasts, morning calls, and inside jokes. despite its innocent nature, it all remained purely platonic. after all, dominic was only in town for the week, and you wished to maximize your time together.

but for jack, it felt like torment. each mention of dominic's name triggered a surge of his insecurities. he trusted you unquestionably, yet he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of irritation at having to share your attention.

"hey, baby." jack greeted, taking note of your smiley face. "whatcha laughing at?"

"oh nothing," you dismissed. he furrowed his brows, lips forming a small pout. "just an inside joke with dom."

jack rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but furrow your brows. "so he's 'dom' now. didn't realize that," he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

you exchanged a puzzled glance with jack, sensing that something was amiss. his jealousy was becoming more apparent with each passing day.

"jack, is something bothering you?" you asked, genuinely concerned.

he averted his gaze, his irritation evident. "nah, it's nothing," he muttered, crossing his arms defensively.

"oh, i know what it is!" you teased, "someone's a little jealous."

jack's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a tight line. he refused to acknowledge your playful taunt.

you couldn't help but push a little further, your playfulness mixing with a hint of concern. "come on, jack, don't be like that. you know there's no reason to be jealous. it's just dominic, and i love you."

instead of responding, jack turned away, his stubborn silence filling the air. he gave you the silent treatment, which was a tactic he sometimes used when his emotions got the better of him.

you sighed and decided it was time to change your approach. you slid closer to him, gently tracing your fingers along his arm. "okay, i get it. you're not in the mood to talk right now."

jack remained silent but didn't move away from your touch.

you leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "you know i love you, right?"

jack's shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly, but he still avoided eye contact.

your teasing had brought a playful twist to this situation, but you knew it was essential to reassure jack. you traced your fingertips along his jawline, turning his face to meet your gaze. "jack, you're the only one i want, and nothing's going to change that. dominic's just a friend, but you, you're my love."

finally, jack couldn't resist the warmth in your eyes and the sincerity in your words. he met your gaze, and his icy demeanor began to melt away. "i know, y/n. i just can't help it sometimes. it's silly, i know."

you grinned and pecked his lips gently. "it's not silly, it's cute. it's hot when you get jealous, but remember, i'm all yours."

jack's pout turned into a sly smirk. “you think i’m hot?” his voice was smug. it seemed like he had gotten over his mini-fit.

“i think you're more than hot, baby.” you played into his ego. his face flushed as it dropped into the crook of your neck, planting wet kisses along your jawline. you giggled, allowing your hands to entangle with his locks, tugging gently as he sucked on your sweet spot.

“i’m so lucky to have you.” his breath was hot in your ear. your lips curved up into a goofy grin. “now, let me show you how much you mean to me.” his tone was sultry and his hand dropped to your waist, repositioning into his lap.

[cryptictongues]

To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece. 

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same. 

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock. 

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

-

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time. 

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield. 

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.” 

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.” 

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures. 

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end. 

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.  

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick. 

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look. 

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.” 

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath. 

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.” 

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.” 

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.” 

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own. 

“May I try something?” 

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him. 

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.” 

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

-

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it. 

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood. 

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him. 

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.” 

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him. 

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-” 

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you. 

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?” 

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him. 

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic. 

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt. 

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you. 

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.” 

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses. 

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds. 

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers. 

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself. 

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way. 

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman. 

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone. 

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment. 

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?” 

“Anything for you, my dearest.” 

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

[riiwrites]

“my kind of woman”

featuring : satoru gojo, chuuya nakahara

requested by : anon

request : “could i please have headcanons for ideal type of woman and what they would choose to do as a first date for chuuya and gojo please”

if anybody knows who created the gojo fanart, please let me know so I can credit them!

masterlist main page

SATORU GOJO

• For Gojo, I think he’d want someone who can handle most of his teasing.

• But someone who can also defend themselves and tease him back.

• He’d never want to actually cross the point where he’d hurt you or make you cry, so he prefers you to be a lot more strong willed instead of accidentally saying something that could potentially hurt you.

• He does love the cuties, someone with a cute smile and chubby cheeks to them and all.

• The happy cheery girls with such a positive outlook on situations.

• It just makes him so giddy, having such a cutie like you on his hip to match his energy with.

• An absolute bonus if you have a sweet tooth just like him.

• That way you guys could just binge snacks and shows and debate about the silliest things.

• I don’t think he’s one to care for looks

• Although we know he finds Inoue Waka hot, he wouldn’t really care how his woman looks 🤷🏼‍♀️

• For a first date, I think he’d take you on a tour to all of the sweet shops in Japan.

• And not just any ordinary sweet shop, oh no.

• The most expensive ones.

• And if you’d feel guilty that he’s spending too much on you?

• “I have too much! My bank account is overflowing with money it should be illegal, and what better way to spend it all is to spend it on my princess?”

• A gentleman and a sweetheart i say.

-

“Toru..where are we going?” You say with a little giggle escaping your lips. You were accompanied with his big hands over your eyes and your back against his chest as he guided you carefully through the streets of Tokyo.

“Shhhhh, sweets..you’ll see in just a second.”

“I’m becoming concerned..”

“What?! Have a little faith in me why don’t ya??” You can tell the smiles evident in his voice as he places a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

You giggle once again, finding his childish request laughable. Once you finally reach your destination after what felt like a forever duration of walking due to Gojo being extremely careful for you not to bump into anyone, you can feel him lean down and his breath tickles your ear as he speaks.

“Okay, on the count of three sweets, kay?”

“Kay!”

“One, two, three!!” As he shouts the three with such excitement he takes his hands off your eyes, now revealing the grand surprise Gojo had planned for you two.

And oh my, it was a grand surprise - he wasn’t kidding.

“Toru..isn’t this?-“

“Yes, yes it is.”

“…”

“But, Toru isn’t it-“

“Uh-huh”

“…”

“But Toru it looks so-“

He places a finger over your lips, still smiling as he leans closer to your face.

“Why are you asking so many questions, sweet girl?”

You pout, furrowing your eyebrows.

“It looks so expensive..I don’t want you to waste that kind of money, especially for a first date..”

His smile fades into a look of confusion, tilting his head to the side.

“What? Are you crazy?” He begins, leaning back up and placing his hands on his hips.

“This type of money I choose to spend practically deserves to be spent on you!”

“But why?” You ask.

He sighs dramatically, making tutting sounds with his mouth as he shakes his hand and his smile returns.

“So many questions..its because i like you, silly girl.” He boops your nose, earning a blush from you as you melt at his words. He extends a hand out to you, in which you take without anymore questions.

“Now, I desperately need to try the newest flavour of kikufuku that they have!”

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

• I honestly think Chuuya and Gojo have similar tastes in woman.

• But Chuuya especially doesn’t care for the looks, he cares for the personality.

• But overall, I believe he loves a woman who is well organised and has a rather calm nature.

• Not that he wouldn’t mind having a bubbly cutie, just that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with her excitement or match her energy.

• He loves a woman to be carefree and kind, not mean or bratty.

• He wouldn’t want to take care of someone who acts like a child, he wants someone who takes care of themselves thoroughly and can manage things on their own.

• I can imagine he’d love to see his S/O in red.

• Just absolutely melts at the sight of it.

• He loves the cuties he can spoil.

• As long as they’re presentable, kind and respectful he wouldn’t want anything less.

• For a first date, you know he’d be the one to treat you right.

• Getting you a gift especially is such a must for him too.

• He wants you to believe you’re worth it and that he’s in for the long run, bumps and all.

• Which is why taking you to the fanciest restaurant in Yokohama that he rented out specifically just for you and him with his money was the best chance to prove it.

-

“You like it doll?” Chuuya asks with a smile, placing his hand on his cheek as he stares at you adoringly.

“Chuuya, it’s absolutely beautiful..” You say breathlessly as you stare at the gorgeous gold necklace you have in your grasp.

“What can I say? The best for the best. You wan’ me to help you put it on?”

You nod with a sweet smile graced on your lips.

At this he smiles wider, getting up from his seat as he comes over behind you to take the necklace off your hands and place it around your neck, clasping it together as you feel his cold hands on the back of your neck.

The atmosphere was beyond perfect. Nobody in sight besides you, him and one or two waiters in sight as the slow piano music fills the comforting silence in the room as he helps you with the jewellery, his movements careful and gentle.

It was all so romantic, so perfect.

He heads back to his seat, sitting down and looking at you with so much love in his eyes that if anybody within his work life saw him like this, they wouldn’t believe it.

“So, why here?” You ask, your beautiful smile tinted in red lipstick was all Chuuya could focus on as of now, before returning his gaze to your eyes.

“Just thought for a first date I’d do something special for ya, doll.” He says, stretching his arm out as he props his other elbow up on the other side of the table, returning to place his cheek on there once again.

“I don’t get to do this often, considering my job. So I don’t want you to think I’m all talk and don’t do, y’know?”

At this you giggle, reaching out for his extended arm as you take his hand, your hands meeting and intertwining at the middle of the table.

“I know you’re anything but that, Mr. Nakahara.”

He chuckles, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles, staring at you whilst doing so.

“I knew from the very first moment that you were gonna be mine, and now i have ya.”

@/riiwrites reblogs are always appreciated ❤︎︎

[bbyboybucket]

Okay okay, now that I’ve had time to actually think about all this and get the evidence and do the math: imma give y’all a little ted talk on Bucky’s Stockholm Syndrome.

So I’m gonna preface all this by saying that this probably wasn’t an intentional choice from the writers of TFATWS. For two reasons, one cause the show overall had a ton of writing issues beyond just Bucky and was kinda a mess as a whole. And two, to actually make that claim firmly, I’d have to do a rewatch and I don’t got time for all that. That said, as a viewer, choosing to look not just TFATWS, but at all of Bucky’s appearances from the perspective of him having Stockholm Syndrome, makes a lotttt of sense. It adds a lot of depth to his actions, words, etc. Also even if it wasn’t intentional, if you chose to look at it through this lens, the narrative of TFATWS being contradictory towards him can actually be a reflection of what’s going on in his head. The way the show is sometimes sympathetic but other times judgmental can be a reflection of how he sees himself and his inner conflict regarding his past. Again, I don’t think the writers intentionally did this, but it’s cool way to look at it and repurposes their mistakes.

Now, I just wanna point out that Stockholm syndrome can develop within merely days or weeks, so it’s almost kinda silly to think that it wouldn’t occur if someone had been held hostage for decades. It’s practically undoubtable that Bucky had Stockholm Syndrome for at least some part of his captivity, but I think he’s still dealing with the remnants of it. Zemo was right when he said there’s something still in Bucky and he can’t get rid of hydra. But it’s not that he’s some evil killer at heart, it’s that he has leftovers from Stockholm Syndrome.

In a very simplified summary, Stockholm syndrome usually happens and works when captors cause immense pain to the victim and then treat them well afterwards. The captor shows them some form of kindness, flattery, mercy, etc. back to back with harm. Also a big factor in it is the victim becoming dependent on them for basic needs. Seriously, learned helplessness is a huge factor in Stockholm Syndrome. All of it causes a “bond” to form. And the more this occurs over time, the stronger it gets because the victim is constantly exposed to them, they become their only source of interactions and relationships. Stockholm syndrome is thought to be a complex trauma response, a defense mechanism for surviving during cruel and terrifying conditions.

Think of it like the victim disassociates the perpetrator from the abuse and then emotionally bonds with them, so that they can lessen their fear and feel a sense of security. Also with Stockholm Syndrome (especially within cults), not only does the victim bond with their captor, but being isolated from the rest of the world causes them to adopt their captor’s views and lifestyle. They get completely indoctrinated and start to think the same way as the captor.

Now think about what we see with the Winter Soldier. Even from the very little that we know, it’s a cycle of Hydra severely hurting him but then giving him praise, encouragement, validation, etc. All for manipulation ofc, but a broken mind isn’t going to see it that way. He would be relishing in the fact that they’re making him feel like he’s needed and wanted, like he’s done good, etc. Especially since that’s the only affirmations and positive reinforcements he receives, and is otherwise forced to suffer. Those moments of praise and “kindness”, are so so so heavily weighted against everything else.

While he was captive, while Hydra had him, he likely thought they cared about him. It probably felt close to love. Now ofc Bucky, as a free man with a clear head, knows it wasn’t love or anything at all except being viewed as a weapon. But I bet there’s still a part of him that desires that again, even if he knows it was fake, especially in the wake of becoming lonely and left with his own negative thoughts. Because like I said before, the affirmations were fucking heavy weighted. During those 70 years just the slightest bit of praise or mercy probably felt like the world’s greatest high. Especially when it was given in the midst of pain.

These manipulative affirmations also result in the victim justifying their abuse. This happens in a lot of abusive situations but especially in Stockholm Syndrome. Think about the scene where Pierce is praising the winter soldier so he can convince him to do what he’s told. What immediately follows? He slaps him. Then he electrocutes him. But the winter soldier doesn’t resist either, doesn’t complain, etc. He takes both, which is definitely a conditioned response, but it’s also likely due to the thoughts of “I’m disappointing them, I deserve this punishment for not behaving.” And to play devils advocate, let’s say he didn’t feel as if he deserved it. Even so, without speculating his thoughts, his reactions to the abuse and the fact that he’s been conditioned to deal with that at all, are still signs of Stockholm Syndrome. Because the captor’s behavior has become normalized.

Also he very well was dependent on them for his every single need. For food, water, shelter, hygiene, human interaction, and probably things he didn’t need but was manipulated into believing were necessities. And that, especially with the learned helplessness and with him likely being in constant survival mode, reinforces that feeling of dependence. The feeling that he needs them. The feeling that they’re Hydra isn’t so bad because they take care of him. The dependence also circles back into kindness thing. Providing for him could easily be seen as small acts of kindness, further making him feel like Hydra cares about him.

Another huge huge huge part of Stockholm Syndrome is that the victim shows resistance and anger towards those trying to help them or that try to oppose the captor. Look at how the Winter Soldier reacts to Steve, various times throughout the movie. With almost everyone else, he’s mostly objective, just fighting anyone who stands in the way of Hydra. He’s brainwashed but he’s not stupid, he knows Steve had another motive. He knew Steve wanted to help him in some way or separate him from Hydra. And that made him fucking livid. He wasn’t just irritated, like he was when Natasha shot his goggles. He was fighting with full on rage, because didn’t want to even think about a life outside of Hydra.

Now, I don’t think it’s full blown Stockholm syndrome anymore now that he’s a free man. That’s why in my initial post I said it’s to certain degree. In remission is maybe a way to word it. He can’t have full blown Stockholm Syndrome, because if he did, he wouldn’t acknowledge that hydra was bad at all, he’d straight up defend them. However, he clearly has some level of it since he considers himself to have been hydra, to have been one of them, rather than just their captive.

But this all plays into Bucky’s overall-mcu characterization and the way he has conflicting views on his time as the soldier. Because Bucky knows what happened to him was fucked up, that it wasn’t actually his fault, but he still feels that way because he was indoctrinated into their culture and his psyche was completely altered by them beyond just trauma. The degree of his stockholm syndrome is what makes him having stressful, conflicting, confusing feelings on it. It’s cognitive dissonance. In case anyone doesn’t know, here’s a quick definition: cognitive dissonance is when you have two conflicting thoughts/feelings at the same time or when your actions conflict with your thoughts/feelings.

Cause we know he has cognitive dissonance from his actions as the winter soldier. We know he has extreme stress, shame, and guilt from the fact that he killed people despite it not being in line with his morals. BUT if we’re talking about Stockholm Syndrome, it unravels other areas of cognitive dissonance. It’s why he struggles so much with accepting his own innocence and forgiving himself, and rarely acknowledges what was done to him. He knows he was a victim yet he was also a perpetrator. Those don’t align, they contradict each other, he can’t see how they can be simultaneous, it doesn’t neatly make sense how the perpetrator could also be the victim, especially from his perspective. A lot of times, the way people deal with cognitive dissonance is by ignoring one of the feelings/beliefs. His way of dealing with this is to put the blame on himself, because even though it still feels shitty, it’s less confusing and easier to accept that than the fact that multiple things can be true at once. Or more accurately from the outsider’s perspective: the fact that his innocence outweighs his guilt.

That’s why he shuts down anyone who points out he’s not to blame. He’s avoiding the feeling of victimhood that conflicts with his beliefs that he’s at fault. It shakes everything thing up and makes him feel even worse than just the guilt alone does. Which also is due to the fact that it’s easier to believe you’re the problem than it is to acknowledge you were helpless. And to deal with the cognitive dissonance he’s choosing the more manageable option, being at fault. But all this cognitive dissonance just completely feeds into his guilt and self esteem problems.

(Side note, no I absolutely do not think his guilt is boiled down to just this. This looking at one little piece of the puzzle, it’s wayyy bigger than this. I’m just sticking to the context of this post right now.)

He didn’t want to do anything Hydra made him do, he never wanted to be with them, yet he accepted Hydra as a home during those 70 years and some of their practices linger in his head. It’s inconsistent to have not wanted to apart of it but adopted the lifestyle anyways. The stress that inconsistency brings is not easy to resolve. Especially because he likely doesn’t understand why he felt any kind of attachment to something that caused him and others so much pain. Think about the line “Hydra was my people”. We all hate it. But….if you look at it from this perspective, it’s not necessarily wrong. He spent 70 years with them. 70 years of having nothing but Hydra, having to rely on them, having to endure all the things that cause Stockholm Syndrome to develop. He didn’t have a choice in the matter, but it really was his home in his eyes. An abusive, nazi nightmare of a home but still, sadly….his home. They were his people, because they forced themselves to be. They were his only people. Again, that’s where the cognitive dissonance comes in: he hates them, he wishes they weren’t ever his people….but the fact is that they were. And that eats at him.

And like I mentioned before, Stockholm Syndrome involves indoctrination and adopting the ideals of the captor. It would be hard to completely remove that if it’s what you spent decades living by. Hydra’s world view and practices probably still slip into his mind a lot, but they don’t align with what he truly believes is right, they’re not who he is as a person: again, more cognitive dissonance that’s causing him distress.

All of this is also probably a factor in why he wants to make amends, not only because he wants to right his wrongs and make up for his sins, but he wants to act on this cognitive dissonance. Because amending does align with his feelings of being against hydra, of not wanting to be a part of Hydra. And acting on that might help push away those other feelings of being one of them.

Also think about how he never argues or defends himself when people speak down on him and his past, he never corrects anyone when they say he’s hydra, he never has any rebuttal against negative comments about him. Which of course, is due to his low self esteem, and again, guilt. But also it goes back to the Stockholm Syndrome and cognitive dissonance that fuel those feelings. He can’t argue or defend his character to anyone else, because he can’t even convince it himself. Because for any excuse, any explanation, any proof he has of being good….he has something to contradict it with. And how can he truly say he’s still a good guy and not at fault when even he is confused about what’s true? When he still has uncomfortable, lingering attachments to Hydra that he hasn’t shaken yet?

The point is, his head is fucking mess, which we all already knew….but looking at it like this just makes you realize how much more confused and lost he is, how his thoughts are literally at war with each other all the time. And when you look at the narrative as a reflection of his feelings, it makes sense why it switches up every second. If it’s confusing for a viewer to see the seesaw go back and forth from “victim” to “criminal”, then imagine what it’s like in Bucky’s head.

Now I do feel like there’s a lot more here, you could go way deeper and I’m probably missing some stuff, but it’s a place to start. Just some fuel to get the motors running.

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ ３ － Ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ

－ Dandelions - 1610!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which Miles makes a wish on a dandelion flower he finds peeking out from the schools garden.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

Miles remembers the white puffy flowers he’d often see peeking out from the sidewalks in his neighborhood. He remembers the silly myth his parents told him at that tender age, where mystic and wonder was still the core of his innocence. Blow onto a dandelion and make a wish, and it’ll come true so long as you have faith in it.

He’d made many dandelion wishes in his childhood, but this one had to have been the silliest amongst them. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing; the fact that he was making a wish on a dandelion that seemed to survive the winter cold and be the first sign of spring to grace Visions Academy, or the fact that what he had wished for was among the most childish of things he’d ever done.

Yet, here he was, bent down at the knees in front of the school garden, holding the intact dandelion in his hand, twisting it around and examining it, the imagery of his crush sneaking into his mind as he did so. 

It was childish, silly, downright embarrassing what he had wished for, and yet, he still did it. The evidence being the now empty dandelion head and the pieces of white wisp flowing into the cool spring breeze. Perhaps there was an inkling of childish hope in him that wondered if such a wish would come true - if his wish for his crush to notice him would actually come to fruition if he’d manifested the little bit of childhood magic he held onto for times like these, where hope was diminishing and he had no other avenues to turn to.

He didn’t believe it would work. He discarded the empty stem and made his way back to his dorm room afterwards, not thinking much of the subject. His evening was spent doing homework and arguing with Ganke on how to beat the Tetris level he was stuck on. Before the night was over, Miles had forgotten about the dandelion and the wish he made.

Then, the next day, as he was exiting his third period, he was reminded of it when he saw you approach him. It crept up on him like a spider on a wall, the realization coming after a conversation was sparked between the two of you.

“You’re Miles, right? From World History?” You said, and the boy has to remind himself what speaking is and how to do so, his voice coming out high-pitched from his anxiety.

“Y-yeah, yep! That’s me!”

“I knew you looked familiar!” You said with a smile, and Miles feels like he should be dreaming, but the weakness in his knees lets him know he is well awake and struggling against everything in the universe to not make a fool of himself. 

“I know you’re a super science wiz,” you begin, “I’m ashamed to say I’m not as good as most of the kids here are when it comes to STEM.” What? You have a flaw? Impossible, he thinks, as he watches you shift your weight, a hint of nervousness in your voice. “Maybe I can tutor you in history sometime, if you’re willing to give me some pointers for my science class?”

There is nothing in the world that would get Miles to trust his voice after such an encounter; so he nods with a confirming hum to your proposal, and that seems to satisfy you enough, as a triumphant smile graces your lips.

“Great!” You chime, “See you around, Miles!”

The second you turn your back to leave, Miles Morales becomes a puddle of overwhelming emotions, heart thumping like a hammer against a wall, his school uniform suddenly becoming too hot to bear. He just talked to his crush, and didn’t make a complete fool of himself. Maybe that wish was worth something after all.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[tea-twords]

Fic personally requested from a wonderful friend

Lee: Freminet

Ler: Lyney & Lynette

General plot is Lyney buys a kamera, Freminet doesn’t want to look silly in a photo, Lynette goes into make Freminet smile mode

@emiefluff This is for u🫶

————————————————————————-

“Guys, check this out!”

Lyney announced as he walked into his and Lynette’s shared bedroom at the House of the Hearth.

Ever since Freminet expressed interest in becoming a magician’s assistant, he and the twins would practice simple magic tricks with what free time they had. That’s what Freminet and Lynette were currently doing, before they had been interrupted.

Lyney took off his hat and held it out in front of Freminet.

“Reach inside!”

“Uh..okay.” Freminet gingerly reached into the hat, only to feel the usual velvety interior.

“I don’t feel anything.” He said, pulling his hand out in confusion.

“Huh, really?” Lyney said in mock confusion. Knowing Lyney for such a while, Freminet could tell by now that this was all part of the trick.

Lyney gave the hat a little shake before grinning and saying “Try again.”

Freminet did just that, and lo and behold, he actually felt something! It was cool and hard, metal? Whatever it was, he pulled it out.

“A kamera?”

“Yup! Isn’t it so cool?”

“Does Father know about this?” Lynette finally interjected.

“Yeah, I asked Father in advance before I bought it.” Lyney explained while taking the kamera Freminet passed to him. “She said that as long as we don’t use it during missions, and that there aren’t any house secrets evident. She worded it as ‘if anyone were to steal the camera or find the photos, they should not be able to know any more about the house than they already do.’ I think that’s fair, right?

Lynette relaxed a little bit hearing their Father’s approval, only to hear a click.

“Lyney! I wasn’t ready…” Lynette complained.

“Ehe, sorry. It’s just a nice image, you and Freminet hanging out. Hey, how about a smiling photo? Smile, guys!” The oldest said, holding up the camera again, this time giving his siblings time to prepare.

Lynette seemed to like this idea, so she gave the kamera a soft but warm smile. Freminet on the other hand, did not seem as keen on the idea as his older sister.

“Ready? Three, two, one!”

“W-wait-..”

Too late.

The kamera printed the photo after a few short seconds, portraying Lynette’s demure (haha) smile and Freminet in the middle of saying “wait”, but with no smile present.

“Hmm..it’s a nice photo of course, but Freminet isn’t smiling! Should we do a retake? I can wait longer this time!” Lyney offered.

“S-sorry…” Freminet said dejectedly.

“No, don’t be sorry! That one’s on me, I clicked too fast. Well try again! Ready?” Lyney said, this time holding up the camera and finally not rushing.

When Freminet still wasn’t smiling however, he lowered the camera with a concerned look on his face.

“Everything okay, bro?” He asked sincerely.

“Y-yeah, it’s just, I don’t know about smiling right now.”

Lyney grew a little more worried, and so was Lynette, but it wasn’t exactly obvious.

“Is something going on? Or maybe you’re just not in the mood to smile?”

“No! No, everything okay right now…nothings going on and I’m feeling okay. I just don’t want my stupid smile to be captured in a photo forever…”

This made Lyney and Lynette comically gasp in unison, although Lyney’s was naturally more dramatic.

“Freminet! How could you insult your own smile like that!”

“I-I..”

“You know smiling is nothing to be ashamed of right?”

“I know…”

“You just don’t want it on a picture..?” Lynette interjected again, figuring as much.

“Yeah…It’s not that I don’t want to smile, it’ll just be so embarrassing on a photo…” Freminet said, covering his face with his hands.

It’s a crying shame he couldn’t cover his ears though, as they begun to turn red. This did not go unnoticed by his sneaky older siblings.

The twins both looked at eachother, and then back at Freminet. They both understood that this was not a matter of real discomfort, but a matter of Freminet being flustered.

They exchanged a glance once again before Lyney held up the camera again and Lynette wrapped her arm around Freminet’s waist in a side hug.

“Hm?” Freminet voiced before jumping at the feeling of a ticklish pinch at his side. He also noticed the camera once again click at this moment.

“L-Lynette!”

“Did it come out good?” Lynette peered over the camera as the photo was printed out.

Lyney held the photo in front of him, allowing his sister to see. Lynette had a soft smile once again, and while Freninet’s expression was very different than last time, it was more of a surprised “😳😨😬” than the smile they were hoping for.

“Aw dangit…Well, it’s actually not bad. Not exactly our goal, but still adorable nonetheless.” Lyney smiled as he showed Freminet the picture of him mid-jolt.

“Guys! Thats so embarrassing!” Freminet whined, pulling his hat over his eyes to avoid any possible eye contact.

“Take two?”

“You got it bro.”

Before Freminet had the chance to process his current state (arms slightly raised to hold his hat down), Lynette had already begun squeezing at his sides again, causing poor Freminet to burst into giggles as another click was heard.

“Lynehehette!! This isn’t fair!”

“Ooh, Lynette, come see how they came out.” Lyney interrupted, paying no mind to his embarrassed brother.

Lynette peered over Lyney’s shoulder to see how the photos came out.

“This one is cute, Freminet’s face is all scrunched up.”

“G-guys!”

“Hmm…how about you take the photo this time, Lynette. I’ll show you how to get a consistent smile.” Lyney said, passing the Kamera to Lynette.

She had a mildly disappointed look on her face but took the Kamera anyway and pointed it in Lyney and Freminet’s direction.

“See what you should do is wrap your arm around him like this first,” Lyney started, wrapping his arm around his nervous brother’s torso.

“Lyneyehey!”

“Then you’ve got to use your other hand-“ He raised his free hand up into a claw. “-and just dig in!”

With that, Lyney dug his clawed hand into Freminet’s lower tummy, causing the younger boy to finally burst out in bright, less restrained laughter.

“AhahaHAHA-! LYNEhehehy!”

“Take it now Lynette!”

Lyney grinned wide and hugged his brother close, still tickling the shit out of him of course. Lynette aimed the Kamera and took a total of 3 pictures: first of Freminet in his current predicament, second with Freminet’s hand in Lyney’s face in an effort to push him away, and third with Lyney’s free hand now under his exposed underarm, with Freminet’s face being noticeably more scrunched up and his body curling up even more.

When he heard the clicks, Lyney stopped his tickle attack on Freminet and hopped up excitedly.

“Let’s see how they came out!”

After waiting a few seconds, the printed pictures filed out of the Kamera. Lynette got to look at them first, resulting in a smile on her face.

“Aww, look.”

She faced the pictures towards her brothers, Lyney cooing similarly at them while Freminet was still curled up catching his breath.

“Look how good they came out Freminet! I knew your smile would make the picture all the more better.” Lyney said earnestly, pulling his dear little brother in for a hug.

Lynette held the kamera up, facing it backwards so as to take a selfie.

“Let’s take one more of everyone like this.”

“You got it, Lynette. Everyone smile!”

Freminet internally sighed. He still really didn’t think too much of his smile but…if his siblings were that desperate to see it, surely it can’t be that bad right?

With that thought, as he gazed up at the Kamera Lynette kept raised. With Lyney’s arm around him and a warm feeling in his heart, he finally flashed the kamera his real, soft, genuine smile.

Click!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

69 for 🧟:

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They clink their bottles together, rip into a bag of potato chips, and get to drinking. They start their evening relaxing on the very expensive sofas in what appears to be a home theater. There isn’t any power to use the damn thing, but they find some candles to light, and enjoy the plush, comfortable surfaces anyway. 

The thing about drinking when you haven’t drank in months and you’re not eating as much as you should to conserve food, is that it hits you. Hard and fast. Buck has probably had the equivalent of half a glass by the time his brain is fuzzy and everything feels sort of silly. For Eddie, it seems to happen even sooner. Judging by the sudden onset of laughter that is truly verging on giggling. 

It’s like they’re teenagers again, at their first house party. And quickly, that becomes evident in more than just the easy buzz. 

It starts with simply shifting closer to each other on the couch. They’re still playing their little post-apocalyptic game of Would You Rather. Except, it’s kind of lost the thread. 

“Okay, you can sleep in a king sized bed with fresh sheets every night forever,” Buck asks. “But every shower is cold. No warm water ever again.”

“Easy. I prefer warm water,” Eddie replies, voice a bit slurred.

“That easy?” Buck asks. Still thrown by Eddie’s quick decisiveness. 

“Too many cold showers in the military. Plus, who wants to sleep in a king sized bed alone?” Eddie replies. 

“All that room to starfish!” Buck protests.

“I don’t starfish!” 

“Well, maybe because you sleep in tiny beds! You should try it tonight, man. Take the master. Live a little.”

“Live a little while I’m sleeping?” Eddie asks. He’s staring at Buck very intensely, face illuminated by the dulling candlelight. They must have let a few flames flicker out without noticing. 

“Yeah,” Buck exhales, returning his gaze. “Or, you know… While you’re awake.”

“While I’m awake,” Eddie repeats. “I like the sound of that.”

Buck nods. Maybe a little too eagerly. 

He doesn’t actually know what to do now. He’s drunk. He’s horny. He has absolutely no experience trying to seduce men. He hasn’t seduced anyone in over half a year. Buck is entirely lost. 

Eddie takes another small sip of wine, watching the uncertainty play out on Buck’s face. 

“I can’t tell what you want,” he says quietly. 

That’s fair. Buck doesn’t know how to vocalize what he wants. He wants to know. The curiosity is absolutely killing him. 

“I…” Buck tries, leaning a bit closer. “I kind of want whatever you want, right now.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. “Good.”

Suddenly they’re kissing. It’s not slow or methodical or very romantic. It's an intoxicated frenzy. It tastes like red wine. It feels incredible. 

Buck drops his bottle of wine. Doesn’t even worry about the fact that it’s spilling. Eddie does the same. There are limited bottles of wine left on earth and limited people to ever grow new grapes or harvest the stuff, and there they are, spilling the expensive shit because this one kiss has infinitely more value. 

Buck is entranced. He’s feverish. 

[zorosleftshoe]

Loveless - (c.b)

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!reader

Summary: Colby is always showing up a new girl on his arm. This time? It’s just too much.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

“Some of us love others badly, love ourselves worse. Some of us love horrid, love beastly, love sick, love anti light. Sometimes the love can’t go home at night, can’t sleep with itself, cannot contain itself, catches fire, destroys the belly, strips buildings, goes missing. Punches. Smashes heirlooms. Tells lies. The best lies.”

It was never supposed to be anything more than a silly crush. You know, that feeling you get when he looks at you and your cheeks flush that bright cherry red that your cousin used to make fun of you for. Or when his hand bumps yours and those damn butterflies start erupting in your stomach? I never meant for it to become this.

I’m sure if anyone looked at me and saw the way my eyes glistened at Colby as his head was thrown back and a deep laugh rumbled through his stomach they would say I was infatuated. Unfortunately for myself, they would be right. I was fucked. It wasn’t a secret that Colby didn’t date. After Shea he built brick walls around his heart that even the most experienced thief couldn’t break in. I spent months chiseling away at brick after brick, begging him to let me have a peek inside, but the walls were sealed and cement was poured.

Days felt like years when I was near him. As if I was constantly being pulled towards him as if we were magnets that were always meant to collide. It was exhausting. Harboring a secret that I knew would destroy our friendship was slowly creeping under my skin and I knew it would only be so long before I caved under the pressure. I feared losing the only stability I had ever known.

So I kept quiet and smiled wide even when he would show up to group hangouts with his arm slung around another girl who was pressed up firmly against his side. Even now, as my mouth was pressed into a tight lipped smile, I could feel my heart breaking as I watched Colby laugh with Amber. Everyone knew they were friends. Much like him and I were. The only difference? I noticed how every so often her hand would glide down his arm and rest atop his for a few moments before gliding back up to his shoulder. I let out a heavy exhale and slumped further into my seat.

“Are you in?” Kat’s voice pulled me out of my negative thoughts and I hummed in response. “We were talking about going to get some burgers later. Were you too busy staring to notice?” Her question fell so effortlessly from her lips that the daggers I shot with my eyes could have pierced her. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a devilish smirk at my reaction. “Burgers? Yes? No?”

“If I say yes, will you let me wallow in self-pity for just a bit longer?” At my words, I couldn’t help but notice how Colby glanced towards me. His eyes finally leaving Amber and remembering my existence. He completely detached himself from her grasp and leaned forward to rest his elbows against the table.

“Self-pity? Why?” I shrugged at his response before pulling my sleeves over my knuckles and taking sanctuary in the oversized sweater. His eyebrows furrowed at my silence but he decided it was best to not poke the bear and leaned back to engage with Amber once more.

As the evening progressed the bubbling feeling in my stomach became harder to ignore and the little green monster on my shoulder more and more evident. Every giggle that fell from her rosey red lips. Every graze of the hand. Every stare that lasted a second too long. No matter what it was, my patience was thinning, and fast. The last blow was when Amber leaned in close to his ear and whispered her sweet little nothings. His hand creeped up her thigh and I couldn’t bare to watch any longer.

“Excuse me.” I pushed myself from my spot on the couch where I sat next to Kat who was nuzzled up against Sam while we all watched a few episodes of Stranger Things.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked. Concern lacing his voice. I nodded before glancing quickly over Colby who was now focused on my exit. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just gotta go to the bathroom.” Sam hummed in response before turning back to the TV. I could hear the soft chatter from the living room with every step I took further and further away. Just as I was about to round the corner into the bathroom I felt a soft tug on my wrist. Before I could protest I was pushed into a dark room. “What the hell?” The light flickered on and I shielded my eyes before looking up to see Colby staring back at me. “Wha-“

“What’s going on? And please don’t lie to me. I’m your best friend. I know when something is up and something is up. Don’t push me away, okay?” He took a few short steps towards me but I took two steps back. “Oky, what’s your deal?” His words began to spark an anger in me. A rage that burned deep below the surface like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“My deal? What ever do you mean?” He moved passed me to sit on the bed but I didn’t dare turn around to look at him. This time I was holding my ground and pushing my feelings to the side. He scoffed at my response.

“You’re being distant. Almost hostile towards me.” At his words I spun on my heels to lock eyes with him.

“I’ll be damned if you pin this on me, Colby.” His demeanor changed at the mention of his full name. From the start of our friendship it was odd for either of us to call the other out of name. Strictly sticking to nicknames or pet names. This coldness I had towards him now was new to him. “I have not been distant. I have been supportive. I have sat on the sidelines and let you have your space while you went on how many dates now?” He cocked his head at me almost stunned by the question.

“Wha?” He paused looking at me with widened eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“How many in the last week?” He thought for a moment before exhaling heavily.

“Four.” He looked up at me with heavy eyelids. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it just does, Colby.” He rose to his feet at the mention of his name and pointed a finger at me.

“Stop with the names. We don’t do that. You know we don’t do that.” I scoffed. “Tell me what the issue really is.” It’s like playing poker. You have the worst hand and you know it’s time to fold. I took two large steps up to him till we were toe to toe.

“You really wanna know?” I watched as he visibly gulped but nodded in response. “I can’t play this game with you anymore.” His face washes over in a sheet of confusion. He truly has no idea what I mean.

“I’m confused now. What game?” He moves his hand to brush a couple strands of hair out of my face and I move away from his touch. “Are you seriously okay, sweetheart?” Before I can stop it a bitter laugh escapes my lips in the form of an exhale.

“This,” I pause motioning between us with a single finger. “I’m not a naive person, Colby. I know your track record when it comes to past girlfriends. I know that if anything I would only ever be another notch in your belt, yet, as foolish as it was, I fell in love with you.” He went to speak but I shook my head. “And I’ve carried this secret with me for months because I know that nothing will ever happen between us. I know that you don’t feel as I do. Because the way I feel about you makes me physically ill. It keeps me up at night. The way I love you is like a poison in my blood slowly killing me but I allow it because if it’s the only way I get to have you, then so be it.” By now the tears were flowing and Colby stood motionless.

“I don’t know what to say.” My eyes closed and I chuckled sadly.

“Honestly, Colby? I didn’t even expect you to.” Without another word I turned on my heels and retreated from the room. I didn’t dare look back in fear if I did I would see Colby standing with my bleeding heart at his feet.

In the weeks that followed I had been radio silent. Kat and Sam had gone out of their way to reach out to me. Even swinging by my apartment to drop off necessities they knew I would need. According to a long and thought out text from Kat, my mother became worried and had reached out to her. If anyone could get me to talk, it would be Kat.

But three weeks and two days wasn’t enough to drown the pain of losing Colby. Not even enough to dull it, make it bearable. Just as I thought I would break the surface and take that breath I so desperately needed, another wave came crashing into me, dragging me further into the abyss.

Most days I wanted to blame him. Blame him for not returning the feelings that had crept up on me but I knew it wasn’t his fault. He swore off love and it didn’t matter who tried to rescue him from the tower and slay the dragon. He was content.

A knock on my door pulled my attention away from the movie playing on the TV. I sighed heavily. The walk to the door felt as if it were miles but as the door opened my heart dropped into my stomach.

“Hey, can we talk?” Colby looked down at his shoes and used the tip of his boot to scuff the floor. “I feel like we’ve had enough time apart to figure shit out.” He motioned passed me as if asking if he could come into my apartment. Hesitantly I opened the door wider and stepped to the side allowing him to move beside me. I followed close behind Colby into the living room and watched as he sat on the couch. For a moment he dropped his head into his hands before rubbing his face and looking up at me. “Will you sit please?”

“What do you want to talk about?” I knew. The hollowness in my chest where my heart had previously been was a clear indicator but I needed to hear him say it.

“Can we please not do this today?” He questioned sadly. “I’ve spent the last three weeks trying to decide time and time again what I wanted to say to you. I still don’t know if I’ve got it right, but I want to give it a shot.” I nodded for him to continue. “For starters, I’m sorry that I didn’t come after you that night. That was my first mistake. Then I started thinking about what you said.” He paused looking down at his hands and fiddling with his fingers.

“We can just forget that it happened.” I wagered. That’s what was best. It’s what we were good at.

“I don’t,” he paused again. “I don’t want to forget it. But, you have to know that I would never love you the way you deserve. I would love you badly. Wrongly.” My chest felt heavy at his words. “That’s not me saying I don’t return your feelings either. I do love you. I just,” he paused shaking his head and looking around the room. “I would mess this up. I can never be the person you’re looking for.” His words angered me.

“Who are you to decide that for me?” He went to speak but I raised my hand. “You make it sound like you don’t want to give me a chance because you’re afraid you’ll hurt me? Well, guess what, Colby? You already did that. Because of you I spent the last three years in fucking armor making sure no one gets close enough to fucking hurt me. Waiting on you! Loving you! You do not get to make the hard decisions for me.” Colby sighed heavily.

“What do you want me to do? You said it yourself. I don’t date. I love you but I don’t make exceptions.” I scoffed angrily.

“Because of Shea?” His shoulders dropped at my words. “Yeah. It always comes back to her doesn’t it?” Colby went to reach for my hand but I rose to my feet. “You should go.”

“Sweetheart-“

“Don’t. Just get out.” Colby groaned before standing up and spinning around to look out the window. “I’m serious, Colby. Get out, now-“

“Would you listen to me?” His voice was rising in volume and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Our expressions mirrored each other, ones of sadness and longing. The tears now rolling freely down both of our faces. “You were there. You saw what loving her did to me. It fucking broke me. When she left I was a shell of the man I once was. It took months, hell, years for me to come back to everyone.”

“Then why are we fighting over this? Why are we wasting each others time?” I could see the frustration in his eyes as he watched me intently. Neither of us moved.

“Because I’m afraid if I walk out that door, this is the last memory I’ll ever have of you.” His words were nothing but a whisper as his eyes pleaded with me. “I’ve lost so many people. I don’t know how to survive losing you.”

“I don’t know how to get passed this.” All of the anger in the room had vanished. It was replaced with an emptiness. A darkness that was slowly enveloping Colby and I. “I’m sorry.” His body began to tremble at my apology and a few seconds later sobs wracked his body. “I’m just sorry.”

“What if we try?” I let out a breathy chuckle and took a seat on the couch.

“Try what?”

“Dating. If it means that you’ll stay, I’ll do it.” I shook my head at his offer.

“Absolutely not, Colby. I’m not forcing you into a relationship you don’t want.” He sat down next to me and took my hands. By now his eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot by the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

“No one forces me to do anything.” He used his hands to cup my cheeks and lock eyes with him. “If you want this, I will do it. Because you’re allowed to be happy. And I want you to be happy. More than anything. So please, sweetheart, just give me the word, and I’ll be yours.”

“Colby-“

“I mean it. Please.” I nodded and he let out a sigh of relief before resting his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I really do love you. I have for awhile. I just never thought I could be the man you need. I’m still not sure-“ his words were silenced by my lips against his. He moved one hand to my neck as the other held tighter my jaw holding me in place.

“I love you, Colbs.” I said once we pulled away, desperate for air. He smiled before resting his head against my shoulder.

“I love you, sweetheart. I promise I’ll never let you go.” I sighed happily at his words before looking down at our intwined fingers.

“Think you could hold off on that promise for an hour? I have to make dinner.” Colby chuckled before collapsing onto the couch and turning the TV on.

“Sure. Just know we’ve got three weeks to make up for when you’re done.” If there were one word to describe what I felt looking at him as the TV light illuminated his face it would be magic. Absolute magic.

[shittalkcornstalk]

“Take One For The Team”

Part 5

A/n: Ahhhhhhhhh sad! Maybe I wasn’t in the best mood while writing this, but what’s a good Buggy narrative without a little angst? I really thought with the themes manipulation I have set up it’d be so much more interesting for the reader to be the one to get hurt by it first! Next chapter is juicy! I will keep writing. As always feel free to let me know if I missed a warning or if I didn’t do the taglist correctly :)

Synopsis: Your self respect and public perception make you question all your feelings for your Captain. Were you ever in control of the situation?

Warnings- xfemreader! 18+ minors dni, angst ,manipulation, slut shaming, harassment, kissing without consent, internalized self hatred, alcohol, eventual smut, power dynamics

Word Count ~3.8k

Taglist- @fluffybunnyu @fanshavegottensotoxic

Chapter 5 “An Audience”

The next week in the small town was a rabid mix of fluttering emotions. It was kind of crazy how quick seeing Captain Buggy in this new light made you change. You used to be so cynical and sarcastic, mocking and berating your friends and the Captain. You remember the sick feeling you got when you first learned about his desires but now, it has been replaced with butterflies. It felt like you’d become a different person, like a sappy teenage girl again, and you loathed it. You protested to Alvida as you walked to the ship after a small girl’s outing.

“It’s fine… I’m fine…I’m completely normal about him, it’s just a bit of attraction is all, a little crush.” You said lying through your teeth. You desperately wanted to underplay how bad you’d fallen. You’d been so impersonal around your fellow crew before, you didn’t need to be seen as weak.

Alvida smirked and snickered. “Yes, you are the utmost of grace and composure, you would be perfectly unfazed by the clown if you saw him right now…”

Feigning a classy confidence you turn your nose up “That’s right-”

“Then it really wouldn’t matter if I pointed out that-” Alvida nods over to Buggy.

He was on the deck in combat with Cabaji, training his knife skills. His overcoat and hat we tossed aside. He lunged towards Cabaji with great force. You saw how his muscular arms contracted and tightened with each movement. His eyes were determined and his teeth bared in aggression.You hadn’t seen him with his hair down often, but his long ponytail felt like something out of a romance novel protagonist.This burning attraction welled up in you. It left you stammering. He was far too caught up in the moment to notice you were across the deck gawking at him.

“Aren’t you the poster child of composure, get your jaw up before you embarrass yourself even more…” Alvida nudges you and laughs at your expense.

“What? No! I barely even looked at his…rippling arms..or his firm chest..or his-” You feel yourself lose focus again at the sight of Buggy.

“Gross, for both our’s sake I’ll stop you right there.” Alvida cuts you off. “So you’ve developed some feelings for the Captain, that is well evident, why don’t you do something about it, save me from having to hear this conversation again... You are well aware of the Captain’s opinion of you, so what’s stopping you? What happened to that flirtatious little minx I schemed with a few weeks ago?” Alvida was exhausted hearing the both of you ramble on like kids about silly crushes. Her impatience with Buggy had well hit it’s breaking point and with you it was getting pretty damn close.

“It’s different now that I actually like him” You half-whine. “I’m worried about looking stupid in front of him”

“Have you met the man?” She spoke flatly. “Honey there’s very little you can do to lose that guy’s image of you, look at him-” She points over to show Buggy has managed to accidentally hoist himself up the mast, tied in a rope, dangling around screaming for someone to cut him down. You would’ve mocked him endlessly in the past for this error but right now all you can do is giggle. He looked so goofy up there.

“You might be a bit right- I’m going to go cut him down…” You walk away from Alvida and approach the dangling Captain. He is flailing around trying to dissect his body in a way that would set him free but with little luck. You call out to him as he makes another attempt. “Hey Buggy do you need some help up there?” You chuckle at the sight.

“Gah y/n! I thought you were out for the afternoon…” He sounds so exposed. You weren’t supposed to see this. The rope contracted one more time before his head popped off at the shock of your sudden appearance. It falls down and you manage to catch him before hitting the ground. His head in your hands he looks up at you with a bright red face.

“Are you alright Captain?’ You look down at him, your fingered just slightly nestled in the back of his head, his hair really is soft.

“Yes, very fine y/n, I actually was just doing a safety demonstration for these idiots about tying down any ropes to avoid this very situation-” He puffed, you didn’t buy it for a second, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

‘How very conscientious of you Captain Buggy” You say with a smile. “Don’t worry I’ll cut you down-” You take his head into one arm tightly and climb up the mast to the rest of Buggy’s body. Buggy is held tightly as you use your free arm to slash through the ropes. If it were up to him he wouldn’t leave this close encounter. His face buried in your chest taking in all your scents, his forehead pressing very conveniently on your soft exposed skin. It was worth making himself look like a fool for just this. You saw his body reconnect as the ropes dropped, his head lingering for just a moment before popping back in at the neck. You hadn’t clocked just how pressed his face was to you until you noticed a bit of smeared paint on your chest. Buggy saw it almost immediately taking a deep breath.

“Sorry Captain, I didn't realize how tightly I was holding on to your head! I hope your makeup didn’t get ruined…”

“Don’t worry about it…” His voice sounded distant, he was lost in his train of impure thoughts.

“Are you feeling okay Captain, it looks like the blood is rushing to your head…” Some concerned crew members called out.

He walks away a bit dazed. “It's definitely rushing somewhere…” He mumbles to himself as he leaves for his private quarters to save himself from further embarrassment.

You stay behind and help clean up some of the loose rope on the ground walking them to a scrap pile. You feel a pat on your back as two crew men laugh openly.

“Thank god you were here to help the Captain yet again- what would we do without you y/n” He speaks jokingly.

“Yeah could you imagine how much pissier he’d be without you around-” The other remarks.

“Mhm, well I try to be a good crewmate when I can be…” You try to wave off some of the mocking energy in the room. You didn’t love what they were implying about you, even if it was a half truth.

“Well keep it up girly, for all our sake…” The two snicker, one pats you a little too low on your back for your liking.

You’d been accustomed to a pirate’s sense of humor at this point. Well aware of how to joke at another's expense. You’ve had Buggy’s men call you all sorts of demeaning names. You’ve been called a bitch, you’ve had shots taken at your appearance, your intelligence, but this felt different. Maybe because it was a little true. You did keep Buggy entertained and he hired you with that in mind. You were eye candy to the man even if you proved to be a good pirate. You had to learn that, but those two men who barely knew you, already were well aware of your role with the captain. They didn't need to hear your private conversations, they didn't need to be one of his trusted right hand men to know. Buggy had marked you as his from the very beginning to everyone else on the crew while you were none the wiser.

The rest of the week made you hyper aware of how the other men looked at your interactions with Buggy. Mumbled whispers and knowing glances were passed around at meals when you sat next to the Captain. You’d never noticed how front and center you were next to Buggy at dinner, until all those knowing eyes sat on you waiting for you to do your job. You didn’t sit next to him after that. You’d planned to confess to the man at the end of the week and you refused to have an audience.

Buggy's crew celebrated the last night on this island before the dreaded expanse of sea with drinking and partying. Many were trying to get their last chance at some action with any woman they ran into. You’d seen this act before and it was always so pitiful. Usually it was an act of desperation, these men wanted a woman's company so bad, but it never seemed to affect you. Sure you had your private room which avoided any awkward scenarios, but Buggy's men never even really fully acknowledged you beyond being a fellow crewmate for reasons you were now well aware of. You plopped down at the Captain’s booth along with a couple familiar faces and some others who you were less acquainted with. Cabaji and Moji were talking together ignoring whatever tirade the captain was going on about. As he saw you get closer he pulled you in a bit.

"You should’ve seen it y/n monsters the size of ships, twice the size even, and your fearless captain was taking them all down with a butter knife no less!” He obviously added some embellishments, but you still laughed along. He continued with these tales of him as a young pirate, no crew with a rinky dink ship. “ I had to go through it all alone, but it was the only way to do it!” He laughs out and slams his empty beer mug on the table. You’d also finished what you'd been drinking in the time it took for him to finish his stories.

"Why don't I freshen us up?” You smile and grab both glasses.

“Sounds great sweetheart!” He pats you on the back roughly taking the wind out your sails. His eyes follow you to the bar. The men around him start mumbling something but you are too far to hear anything. Buggy looks over to you, cups his hand over his mouth leaning into his audience. Whatever he said got a raucous applause from the crewmates and Buggy leaned back to take it all in.

You headed back over with the drinks and sat yourself back down to the captain’s side. He grabs the beer and sloshes it down. He looks at you, face flushed from what you presumed to be the alcohol running through his system, only proving to be more true when he leaned into and you could smell it on him.

“Beers great but it can’t beat the shit I’ve got back on the ship, you’d love it, remind me to let you try it when we get back- hic -” He leans into you more with his arms moving dangerously low on your back.

“Buggy I think you’ve had plenty” You laugh it off. He's been drunker before, but he’s not usually this handsy. You were hoping this would be a sign to slow down.

“Cmon baby- I know my limits! I was just telling the boys here about the deal I scored in that deal at the weapons and ammunition dealer thanks to my lovely girlfriend~” His arm returns to the small of your back holding you tightly to him. You don’t say anything, that joke was supposed to be just for you two, and he’s shared it to the table with hoots and hollers. “I even got you that pretty little pistol…which I don’t think I’ve been properly thanked for..” He slurs his words and looks at you teasingly.

“Thank you Buggy again, it was a very nice gift.” You feel yourself shrinking.

“Aw what was that! I think I’ve earned a little more than a thank you…” His eyes are indirect, they switch from looking at you and the rest of the people surrounding you. He’s waiting for you. “I know exactly how you can show your appreciation” His gaze darkens as his hand tugs at your chin and your lips meet his. It only lasts for a second, but you can taste the beer and face paint on your lips lingering. He looks back at you and smiles wide. “There, that wasn’t too bad right?” The table bursts into laughter except for a couple people. Cabaji and Moji stare silently realizing the plan has gone too far, and Alvida walks from the scene immediately. You sit there motionless.

In front of people this moment was taken from you, something that was supposed to be special and fulfilling was ripped from your control. It was quick and impersonal, maybe that was for the better, playing it up as a joke.It was your first kiss with the captain and it was to serve what? To let everyone know you were there to give him attention. Maybe you were overthinking it , but seeing a crew's worth of men applaud at your little performance did not sit so right with you. Buggy hired you for this. He hired you to eventually have you and you never really took the time to think about those implications. You took advantage of it and now you even started liking it, but it was a role that was laid out for you from the very beginning. Everyone seemed to know that and Buggy soaked it all up. Gripping your waist tight he looked at you with that stupid big smile. You smile back, but you don't want to. You didn't want to cause a scene so you waited in the moment. Taking it all in the eyes of you you feel your breath quicken. Everything you were doing for him was exposed from the start. You played it up, but the captain wasn't the only one who saw your little outfits and heard your flirty voice. All his men saw that and they had well made up their minds about you. You were there to keep Captain happy, and you did. You did your job. Was this it? You hear the crowd die down and rush for the bathroom.

Looking at yourself it felt different, you felt used and cheap. A toy, a tool, a little dog at his beck and call. Were you ever in control of this? Buggy was your captain and he always got what he wanted, it was only a matter of time before he locked you in too. You hear the door open and rush to a stall to hide, a couple of low ranking men walked into laughing about something..laughing at you.

“Buggy better keep that bitch on a tight leash, gold digging skank is probably gonna jump ship if she finds some deeper pockets-”

“I'm just happy she's actually putting out for him. Tramp was teasing the captain for so long it was giving me blue balls!”

“I'm sure she’s keeping captain plenty taken care of, see they were out all day last week, probably held up in some inn.”

“You're probably right she’s been quiet all night, the poor things throat must be sore!”

The men all toss around these accusations and spit out profanities like it was just all agreed upon knowledge. You were a whore, a gold digger, Buggy’s property. You wanted to be somewhere else, you wanted to be anyone else in this moment, Anyone but his… You hear them leave and make your way to the ship after rushing through the crowds of the bar. Buggy and the others celebrated as if nothing happened. You duck your head down to go unnoticed and leave out the door. Nobody seemed to notice, but Buggy did. Buggy could always spot you in a crowded room.

You stumble through the streets a little dazed and drunk. You looked around at the warmth of light in the passing houses, but bypassed them all to the dark and empty ship. Making your way up to your room you slam the door behind you and see the small constraint space. You see your outfit for the next day lined up, it feels all too much like a costume to you, short and tight with Buggy’s colors. You toss it to the floor and look at yourself. Makeup rushes down the sides of your face and you rip off the outfit you were wearing to throw on a nightgown. Folding yourself into your bed you clung to your pillow and cried.About an hour in you hear a knock at your door. You try to calm yourself and clear your throat.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Buggy…why'd you leave so soon doll, the fun was just getting started?” He chuckled a bit, but his sobering voice still held some concern. “Listen if it was that bad of a kiss, just forget it, it was just a silly joke…”

“It wasn’t a joke to me-” You swung the door open to meet his gaze. He sees your face all puffy and stained. This was new for him, seeing you break like this. It made his stomach churn.

Buggy didn’t know how to respond, he could clearly hear some bite behind your words. Were you that disgusted by him? It had to be that. He walked deeper into your room and kept his eye contact. You gulp his closeness, you hate how he makes you feel.

“Look, I get it, I’m an old, ugly, clown. I won’t make any more moves on you, it was stupid to even think I had a chance-” He turns to leave and you grab his wrist.

He gives up on you so easily. What is he playing at? Is this a way to make you pity him? Is this just another way for him to manipulate the situation?

“Stop that shit right now, you can’t play these little games with my head-” You yell out at him panicked.

“Y/n what do you mean by that…” He looks at you.

“Ugh! You should know! You’re the one who hired me to be your little toy. You are the one who got me all those presents to woo me over, you are the one who’s spent all this time making it so I’d fall for you so I could fulfill every little freaky fantasy you have. I really like you Buggy, but it's hard to know if that's how I feel, or how I'm supposed to feel-”

Buggy takes a step back, he wanted you to like him back for so long, but now you do and he's being confronted for it. He’s not good in these types of situations.

“I don’t want to be relegated to just the Captain’s slut, when you kissed me in front of everyone… who was that for? Me or just another way to flaunt your power-”

“Slut…No it wasn’t meant to be like that, I just got caught up in the moment, giving the crew a little performance, but I have wanted to kiss you for so long, it just seemed like the only time I had the balls to do it, you couldn't reject me that way”

“Buggy I wouldn’t have rejected you if you tried any other time, I just wanted it to be special…I wanted it to be private.” You get a bit quieter and lower your head in embarrassment.

Buggy’s eyes widen and he takes a stepforward seeing your apprehension. He sees your eyes are misty when he lifts your head up in your hands. He wants this argument to end, he wants to forgive him like nothing. Maybe he’s blinded by the fact you just admitted you liked him back he asks you quietly.

“Would you say no if I asked you to kiss me again?”

You did want to kiss him again, you wanted this from the moment you had realized your feelings. Your cheek nuzzled into his warm and calloused hand. It was just the two of you; quiet and personal. He was looking at you, not with impatience or hurt, just longing. His face stood still and didn't get any closer to you. You leaned in and your lips hovered over his, feeling his breath against yours. He closed his eyes, but nothing else moved. His lip slightly trembled with desire, he was waiting for you. You sigh and place your lips upon his. It was gentle, your mouth parted slightly as you deepened it for just a moment. You turned your head and locked in.Buggy melted onto you, still letting you take the lead. Your hands traced along his neck and hair. You’d always imagined a kiss with a swashbuckling pirate captain would be this intense clashing of teeth and yet this was different. It was a warmth that enveloped tightly and made you feel safer. You took a step back to see Buggy’s lashes fluttering open, his paint smeared. Your head clears feeling yourself come down from the volatile state you were in. You catch your breath and speak directly.

“Buggy I want you, but I can’t be with you if you only see me as a toy-”

“I've been obsessed with you since the day I met ya, you are so much more than that. I don’t know who let you believe all that shit you were spitting off. Y/n I want you to want me more than anything, but I can’t force you to do anything. When I first met you, you were so bold, you didn’t let me get to you. And all these months you never waivered, you never let anything phase you, why is this happening all of a sudden?”

“It was nobody just a couple of guys-”

“What the fuck where they saying about you to get you like this? Do you know their names? I’ll rip out their tongues talking about you like that.” Buggy is quick to break the comfortable silence in the room with blame that isn't placed on him.

You laugh a little at his reaction, putting your hand on his face. “I didn’t get a look at their faces, I’m sure they were nobodies..” You knew they were on Buggy’s crew and you didn't need that blood on your hands.

Buggy turns again to look at you, he barely even noticed you were only in your nightgown until now. Coincidentally he left the rest of the crew at the bar, the ship was still and silent as you looked into his wandering eyes. You see his breath quicken and hands shake as one rests itself on your waist.

“I’d hate to push my luck for a thir-“

[ddvauconspiracies]

First thing I’m going to share my thoughts on is Martyn. Yes I know that he has not appeared in the AU yet but I believe he is a key component to help us predict what could happen in future chapters. First of all: He gets a lot of attention from Doody in forms of fan art proving that he is a big part of the story. Here is some reasons why I think this.

Why would he get his own emotions chart like HG/Scar and CG/Grian? Doody would only do this if they had to draw Martyn a lot/or he is really important to the story. We see him show up a lot in various forms of fan art from @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11. Now that I proved that he can help predict future chapters let’s do what I made this blog for, creating and sharing conspiracies! Now, on the emotion chart of Martyn above we can see under the ‘pain’ one he is holding a double sided axe. “Shroom? What is so important about the axe?” Well, I did some digging into Doody’s posts and found this little goodie, a small spoiler for future chapters.

In this drawing we can see Martyn with the same axe looking at Ren. What does this mean? Well it could be a few things. (You can always dm or ask a question if you think I missed something) We already kind of know that Martyn is a part of the vigilante group so why does he have to attack/kill ren?

Ren plays a role with the emerald soldiers. This theory seems pretty far fetched and I don’t really believe this is the case, but I’m going to share it anyway because I believe in evidence. It is pretty obvious that the vigilante group’s worst enemy is the Emerald soldiers so It does seem justified for them to attack someone working with them.

Martyn is being punished by the Mimic. This one is going to sound weird at first but hear me out. It has become pretty obvious from Doody that there may be some…cute little feelings floating around between them. How lovely, and the mimic being the silly little stalker he is found this out. Martyn does something the Mimic calls a ‘big no no’ and the Mimic finds and kidnaps Ren to punish Martyn. The stuff in the middle that could have pissed the Mimic off I will be making another post about those conspiracies so just sit tight.

My personal favorite reason, this one seems the most far fetched out of all of them but it is fun to think about. What if Ren is a part of this third party, a cute little plot twist @xmaruu11 threw into the writing. A party that is not the vigilantes or the emerald soldiers, but still pisses the Mimic off to have Ren punished for it. Another post will be made about this going into more detail about my three conspiracies. If you have your own about this DM ME! I would love to include all of them. No idea is a bad idea! <3 -Shroom, the conspiracy theorist.

(Just a reminder the AU and the art included in this is made by @xmaruu11 and @kitsuneisi