#I dressed as a pirate for an entire week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months

Note

idk if you take anon requests but I am in love with Yandere ruthless and bloodthirsty Pirate captain who's obsessed with a princess from a small kingdom and takes her as wife in exchange for not plundering the kingdom and bleeding out their resources. He had planned for their first evening together to be romantic but she looks too tempting when she's frightened

🌹

CW: Extremely rough smut, sadistic behavior, bodily harm, knife play, blood, minor character death, dead dove

Edward listened to two of his crew members gossiping like handmaidens, feeling only mildly annoyed at their squawking. Usually by now he would have threatened to pull out their teeth to keep them quiet, but he secretly could understand their excitement. While pirates were blamed for anything that could go wrong on the open seas, they were actually often employed by nobility to do what their navies could not do legally. Still, it was a surprise to be extended a job offer from a large kingdom, considering Edward's notoriety.

Edward "The Living Death".

There wasn't a crew as fearsome as his. He had never worked for any of the self righteous kings or queens in the past who conscripted pirates for their aid, not because he thought too highly of himself, but because the stories of his wrath scared all the rich bastards away. And the stories were not exaggerations. Edward aimed to make himself the most terrible in the world, because while it was too late to ever be let into heaven, it wasn't too late to become powerful enough to kill Satan himself.

For an entire week the crew would be guests in the sea side kingdom, while The Living Death and two of his men would be welcomed into the castle for negotiations.

It was entertaining, being welcomed onto a king's land, and Edward was curious as to what King was so insane as to ask for his assistance, knowing that Edward was the type of man to torture sailors for sport.

The ship with black sails tied off on the dock of the grey and dull harbor. Although the carriage that awaited Edward was gaudy with its elaborate engravings, the buildings were drab and pitiful. Truly, a thriving kingdom. And the large castle that towered above the impoverished residents was just the icing on the cake. To enter the grounds a large gate had to be slowly opened, physically alienating the royals from their subjects.

The attendant waiting to take Edward and his mates to the study felt his jaw fall agape at the sight of the men. What parts of their bodies were visible were covered in deep scars, the men were large and intimidating, but the leader was almost inhumanly frightening, unnaturally blue eyes that almost looked blind pierced his soul through a mop of shaggy black hair.

Edward met with the king for introductions, however was politely dismissed to the rooms they would be staying in for a bath and meal, promising to begin negotiations the next day.

However, he couldn't expect pirates to do as he asked so blindly, so after his shower and a free change of clothes, Edward decided to wander the gardens, internally arguing with himself over what he is doing in a king's estate. Then he saw her.

A woman in a beautiful, yet simple, dress was being followed by a maid, chatting kindly with one another despite the class difference. From afar her voice touched something in Edward's spirit; a longing he hadn't been able to quench on the ocean.

Marilyn tensed up and fell back behind (Reader) where she was supposed to be, generally. (Reader) looked ahead to see what had frightened her handmaid, and witnessed a man she did not know approaching the both of them.

"Greetings, ladies." His voice was gravelled and exhausted, tugging on (Reader's) heartstrings. From under the stranger's freshly washed hair (Reader) could see a long scar between his eyes, matching the scars that littered the hand he offered to (Reader).

"Good sir." (Reader), without hesitation, responded with an extended hand. Marilyn audibly choked behind her, having to physically bite her tongue to prevent herself from shouting at the man to 'step off!'

Wind burnt lips kissed the back of (Reader's) hand, holding it for an inappropriate amount of time, yet (Reader's) expression of genuine kindness never changed. "You clearly do not know who I am." Although it was said with a smirk his tone was dangerous.

"Just as you clearly do not know of me." (Reader) held herself tall, praying that the man before her was not important enough to feel offended by her ignorance.

Edward's eyes sparkled beautifully as he straightened his back, as to tower over the lovely lady he had just met. The movement shifted his hair, better showcasing not only his eyes but the giant scar stretching from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. "I am here on business."

"What a coincidence." (Reader) smiled coyly. "As am I."

What is this feeling? Edward had many effects on women, fear, disgust, loathing, lust. But the smile on (Reader's) face was honest. Like a child who hasn't yet learned to fear the evils of men, her eyes were clear and unclouded, looking not at his scars, but his eyes; numb to the stench of blood he could never scrub himself clean of, the lamb had no clue she was speaking to a wolf, and he wasn't even in disguise.

"What kind of business does a lady have with a disgusting fool like this king?"

(Reader) gasped, taken back by his words, smiling nervously behind her fan. "Good sir, you just be careful with the way you speak about a king! I will not report you, but others shall not be so kind.." Concern laced her words as she searched the surroundings for eavesdroppers.

"The King knew who I was when he hired me, so he shouldn't be offended by my language."

"Still..." (Reader) sighed. "Well, if you are so curious, I'm here because of a marriage proposition."

"Marriage?" The idea irked Edward, and he had to hold back his hand from almost instinctively lashing out. What a strange reaction, feeling peeved over the possible engagement of a woman he's just met.

"Indeed, strange isn't it? I always knew marriage would one day come, but.. it is still quite the adventure." Her grin tightened, but it wasn't a happy smile, the expression felt more like a mother's attempt to console her frightened child.

There was an odd glow to (Reader's) eyes, and Edward was suddenly under the impression that the woman before him was secretly an angel, sent in disguise to test him, to see if Edward truly did long for the throne of hell. Again, his arm tried to move on it's own accord. What if, instead of allowing such an angel to return to heaven with her report on him, he caged her like a little song bird and ripped off her wings?

"I apologize, Miss, but I must cut our conversation short. Any longer and I might gouge out your eyes." Edward spoke with a smile, revealing his sharpened canines. But again, (Reader) surprised him, giggling back at him as though he had just made a light-hearted joke, while her maid behind her was grasping her breast like she was having a heart attack.

"Well, I shall keep a spoon in my pocket in case we need again!" (Reader's) laughter filled the garden.

She curtsied, back still straight and head dipped only as low to be polite. The maid, on the other hand, was practically folded in half and was bent down for so long she had to scurry after her lady.

As the mystery woman left, Edward had a lot of strange, foreign thoughts and feelings causing chaos in his mind and heart. He briefly fantasized about running after her, and taking her for himself behind a bush while her maid screamed for help. He had seen plenty of women's bodies before, but the fantasy of what could be hidden by his mystery lady's bodice was.. tantalizing.

Would she be impressed by his body? Or fearful? What kind of face would she make as he forced her to carry his children? Would she look at him with love and tenderness during the birth of their first born? Would she bite and scream and fight?

Edward discovered that he would have to return to his room prematurely, perplexed as to who that woman was, and why she had such an effect on him, causing an arousal despite not saying, or doing, anything sexually exciting.

Marilyn smacked her princess on the shoulder, red in the face and mouth frozen in horror. "My lady! I can't believe you!"

"What? Did my joke not make sense?" (Reader) asked in earnest. "I said I'd carry a spoon, so he had something to easily scoop my eyes out with."

"Not that, you-you- IMBECILE!" Marilyn cried out, grasping the lady she adored like a sister. "That man was The Living Death!"

"Oh. He didn't look dead to me." Another slap connected with the back of her neck.

"He was a pirate! A pirate!"

"A pirate? What was he doing here?" (Reader) nervously pondered, examining her maid's expression to see if she was pulling her leg.

"I don't know, but you should write a letter to your father immediately. No good man would want his daughter marrying into a family that deals with rotten apples."

After the sun rose into the dreary kingdom, Edward and his mates were finally invited into King Nikolai's study, meeting the rotund bastard who reeked of wine and pulled at his codpiece frequently.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today, gentlemen. You've saved me from an uncomfortable situation. That is, if you agree to my request."

"Well, let's not make this longer than necessary." Edward spat in disgust, feeling as though he would catch syphilis from just speaking with his potential employer.

"My son, my heir, has two marriage candidates. Two worthy marriage candidates. My friend, King Leopold has a, frankly stupid, daughter, Princess Cadence. Leopold and I decided long ago that his daughter should marry my son, and become queen when he surpasses me. Now the issue is King Dretious. His kingdom is.. small, but not unimpressive. It thrives wonderfully. He has only two daughters, pitiful him. The eldest is being trained to be his successor, which is wonderful for him since he was blessed with bright and charismatic daughters, but no man who marries her well become King, so there is no incentive there to send even my sons I dislike. The youngest, is a perfect marriage candidate. Princess (Reader). Intelligent, charming, attractive.." He took a ragged breath, his mind traveling to where it should not. "I desire her land. If she marry my son I'd have access as family to her resources, and in a generation or two my grandchildren could gain control of that little rock. But it isn't worth ruining my relationship with Leopold. That would be.. catastrophic."

Edward numbly wondered if the young woman he met was Princess Cadence, or Princess (Reader). In the short time he spent with her she certainly didn't seem stupid, so he was leaning towards the latter.

"But I want that land. Do you understand me?" King Nikolai's smile was sinister. "You can have whatever is in their castle, whatever can be looted, as long as I receive the deeds to their nation, signed and stamped, and King Dretious and his kin are exterminated."

"And what do we get? If I wanted to plunder a small country, I could do that without needing permission."

"Full, under the table, immunity, as well as enough money for you and your crew to retire in the Caribbean as lords." He was so smug as he pleaded his bargain that Edward considered killing him just to see him choke on his own blood.

Edward stood, walking around the king towards the window, debating whether or not it would be worth it to kill the fat asshole right then and there. But below the window, under a flowered tree, sat the woman he met the day before, watching birds as they flew overhead. "I met a young lady in the garden yesterday. She said she was here for a marriage proposition."

"Hmph, yes.. attractive, isn't she? That would have been Princess (Reader). She is unaware of her competition with Leopold's daughter, so it would have been unwise to have them both here at the same time."

(Reader) had her lips pursed, upset about something. 'How would those lips taste?' Edward thought excitedly.

"We'll do it." Edward spoke loudly, startling his men who were surprised by the boss's response.

His men questioned him on the way back to the ship. Surely he wasn't serious? Of course not... Captain Edward "The Living Death", the man who abandoned his family name, had a plan, one that he had come up with purely for selfish reasons, that did not include sucking up to a disease ridden rat. And he assured them, that after he got what he wanted, the crew would return, and burn King Nikolai's kingdom to the ground.

The wonderfully jolly, soft King Dretious, known for being unlike the cruel kings who ruled throughout the land, plump with age instead of greed, was petrified solid. The elderly father who was seen as a grandfather figure to his small island, blessed by the gods to always have the wisdom to do what was right, was stunned, incapable of coherent thought. Before him was a pirate captain who had demanded an audience, two months after his darling baby girl returned home from another country.

"What did you just say?" He stuttered out.

Edward stood beneath the kindly king sitting on his throne while wearing an ostentatiously decorated black frock coat, shining with it's abundance of gold decorations and precious jewels. His unnaturally bright eyes were fixated on the mortified princess standing behind her father.

"I have been hired to bring ruin to your kingdom. However, if you offer me a better prize than what I was promised by my employer, I'll reconsider my agreement with him." His gaze made (Reader's) skin crawl.

King Dretious swallowed the lump in his throat. "And what would that be? Whoever had the gall to request such a reason clearly had the resources to hire you, so I doubt anything of mine will compare."

"True. However, it isn't your money I'm after.." Edward stepped forward, still fixated on the younger princess will a hungry expression.

The eldest sister recognized the look of a predatory man before her father did, and stepped in front of (Reader) in a protective stance.

"I demand Princess (Reader's) hand in marriage."

"No!" The eldest princess spun around, grabbing onto (Reader) and hiding her within her embrace. "Father, you can't!"

"Please, Captain, isn't there anything else?" The King frantically begged, knowing that his army wasn't enough against The Living Death and his infamous crew of the damned.

Edward sighed, his patience wearing thin. With a snap of his fingers, his men brought forward four captives; the cook, two guards, and Marilyn. "Let's try that again." The demon spawn pulled out a gun and cocked it, aiming it at the older guard.

"Let's be civil-"

The King was cut off by a loud shot, killing the innocent man who had been a loyal employee of the castle for the past thirteen years. (Reader) hollered, frightened by the sudden bang.

Edward moved over to Marilyn, pulling down the hammer slowly. "No!" (Reader) burst free from her sister, running down the steps to fling herself onto her only friend's body, ready to be her shield.

"(Reader)!"

(Reader) cradled her maid, glaring through tears up at the man she foolishly thought was handsome only a couple of months ago. "I'LL DO IT! I'll do it! Just please.. no more."

Marilyn sobbed under (Reader's) weight. "Princess, no! Please - save yourself!"

"Sister, come back here now." The queen to be demanded, shaking and on the brink of tears herself.

Edward smiled wider than before, holstering his weapon. "Wise choice, angel." He turned his attention back to the King. "I hope you don't mind that there will be no wedding. For you see, God has no place in my life, even for happy occasions. I've already procured a marriage contract, so once it is signed that shall be that."

A calloused hand reached out to the princess.

"Shall we?"

The country was in mourning as the news of the princess's sacrifice spread faster than a plague, and nearly the entire country arrived to see her off as she boarded the pirate ship with black sails, stiffly shuffling next to her new husband, the certificate signed and verified only an hour prior. On what should be one's happiest day, the air was filled with sounds of heart breaking agony. (Reader) was numbly dragged onto the ship and into the captain's quarters, no longer a princess, but a wife to a monster.

Edward locked the door behind them, smiling wolfishly. "Welcome, to your new home, darling. Unfortunately, we will have to prolong our honeymoon, as I have a country to conquer."

"What?!" (Reader) collapsed before her new husband, clutching onto his shirt. "But you promised!"

"Ah, apologies, love, but I did not mean your old country." He pulled her onto her feet, kissing her knuckles. "I meant the country that asked me to kill you. Now that you are my wife, I can't stand for such insolence, now can I?"

(Reader) pulled away, eyes wide with disgust. "Was this your plan from the start? If you never truly cared, then why take me? Whatever loot you plunder from whoever it was that employed you will surely be worth more than my father's entire island, so if you had no qualms about taking on a presumably larger nation-state, then why?"

"You are a smart one." Edward chuckled, approaching (Reader) with a look she had never seen before, yet for some reason set her on edge. "I did it because I wanted you."

He lunged, tackling her onto a large bed covered in silk and furs. She struggled, fighting with all her might to push him off of her, but she just wasn't strong enough. (Reader) bit her lip in an effort to not cry again, a pitiful attempt to retain her pride.

"So strange.. I have had whores throw themselves at me many times in the past, but they were nothing but bodies. What is it about you that is so different?"

Nothing but bodies.. (Reader) had learned from Marilyn what happens on a woman's wedding night, but in the chaos of her marriage she had forgotten that that was what this was, her wedding night. Her face fell, tears whelmed up in her puffy red eyes, and her resolve to look brave cracked.

But this expression seemed to only excite the mad man further. His blue eyes grew hazy like he was drunk and his breathing became irregular. "So that's what you would look like.. I wondered."

A large knife was procured from behind his back, causing (Reader) to cry harder. With sadistically slow movements he cut through her dress. She made pathetic attempts to swipe at him, but Edward only responded by effortlessly flipping her onto her belly, slicing through the lace of her corset.

"So many layers to finally see the body I've been dreaming of. That will change, of course. If I want to see your beauty, I will. Even if you must live in the nude."

He ignored her screams as he tore off every article of clothing she wore, leaving (Reader) naked and shivering beneath him.

"Is it me that makes you shudder like this, or is it," he placed the blade against (Reader's) cheek, earning another gasp as her body practically convulsed, "either way, I'll pretend that your shaking is in excitement for me."

With (Reader) now on her back, Edward held the knife to her throat to prevent her from running while he removed his own clothing with one hand. Her sobs only grew louder as more of his scarred skin became visible.

"Please do-don't do this!"

"Don't what? Make love to my newlywed wife? Fine then. I'll fuck you instead."

His pants slipped down, revealing his fully erect manhood. (Reader) closed her eyes in shame, but Edward grabbed her face with enough force to bruise her chin, snapping them back open in shock of the pain.

"Look at what you've done to me. Without grabbing at my pants and begging me like a slut, you've already made my cock like this. Don't you feel special, knowing that you have that effect on your husband." Edward continued squeezing his bride's face painfully, forcing her to nod in agreement.

The tip of the knife drug down her skin without enough pressure to cut, but enough for (Reader) to feel the cold threat tingling and creating goosebumps, traveling teasingly from her breasts and over her quivering stomach, stopping at her exposed cunny. (Reader) felt the metal touch her where she was told never to touch herself, and was consumed by humiliation.

"Unfortunately for you, it seems that your modest body has not prepared itself for me. I would have taken the time to wetten your cunt, but as per your request, I am not to make love to you, but to fuck you."

"What does that-" a searing pain electrocuted her body as (Reader's) dry pussy was stretched over Edward's dick. Her throat was aching from all the screaming, but that didn't stop the sounds of agony from shrieking out.

He held himself inside of her, relishing in the feeling of her twitching hole tightening almost unbearably around him. For a brief moment, Edward's heart swelled with love, and he considered licking his fingers to provide his wife with lubrication, but the look on her face.. just from entering her (Reader) became so red she was almost purple, eyes flickering as though she were to pass out. It was too beautiful for words.

As he pulled out it caused an awful friction that (Reader) swore she could hear, an awful shuk shuk shuk as Edward removed himself, only to slam back in. It felt like she was being torn apart. He continued thrusting into her rapidly swelling sacred place. The tearing sensation morphed into a burning one, as her blood slickened her hole.

His movements only sped up, pounding into his bruised and bloody princess. (Reader) began to adjust to the pain, and started to push against Edward's chest, desperate enough to fight against him despite his knife still being held to her thigh.

Suddenly, (Reader's) legs were raised and folded back, pressing down into her arms to prevent her from moving. She pulled and struggled, disgusted by the wet noise as Edward's hips connected with hers, uncomfortably aware of his pelvis grinding against her sore clit. Edward grabbed her face again, popping her jaw open and sliding his knife into her mouth.

"Don't struggle, or you just might cut out your tongue." The man threatened, his malicious words clashing with the intense lust in his eyes.

(Reader's) nose scrunched up as she tried to glare at Edward, unable to spit out the knife because of his hold on her face.

"Ah, continue looking at me like that!" He sang with praise, his legs twitching with anticipation. "I'm about to cum!"

(Reader) didn't quite know what that meant, but she could feel him throbbing inside of her.

"I was going to wait until you've gotten used to being my wife, but I think I'm going to cum inside you! Fuck, I'm going to put my babies in you! I'm going to knock you up!"

Learning what was about to happen, (Reader) tried to scream without bumping the knife in her teeth.

Suddenly, the knife was thrown across the room, replaced by Edward's lips, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth as he climaxed deep in his wife's raw pussy. (Reader) didn't know if it was because she was aware that he was cumming inside of her, or if it was because of the paper thin cuts along her vaginal wall, but the fluid pumping into her was horrendously hot, burning her abused body.

He collapsed onto her, still kissing her passionately, tasting the lips he had craved since he first met her. When Edward pulled away, admiring the unbroken string of saliva connecting him to his lover, he knew why he had been so enamored with (Reader) since the beginning.

"I'm so excited to drag you down into hell with me, princess." 'There will be no escape from me. You are my gift from Satan, my little angel. You belong to me.'

#yandere #yandere x reader #request #sorry it took so long #i hope you like it #cw noncon #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #intense #not proofread #bad writing

460 notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 2 months

Text

In Limbo [Chapter 2]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist

mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

[cw: alcohol]

It was always better that way; when you didn’t have someone trying to look out for you.

wc: 6k

It was always blistering hot in that damn restaurant.

Countless patrons packed tight into booths and tables throughout the building on that busy Saturday night, and the heat that radiated off of them was near suffocating. Sweat clung to every inch of your skin, especially in your armpits, and you had never found yourself secretly so grateful to be dressed in black because at least the evidence was invisible.

Despite your discomfort, you performed your job to the best of your ability, per usual. You weaved between tables as you led your guests to their seats, packaged at least twenty to-go orders, and only got yelled at by the waitstaff once for seating a family of five incorrectly. Really it was no different from any other night you worked. Things were always chaotic at a restaurant as successful as Sapori, which made things stressful, but your pay as a hostess was at least manageable. And they turned a blind eye when your hours started hitting over the fifty mark in a week, whereas most other places would be finding ways to get you to cut back in order to not pay you overtime.

It was always better that way; when you didn’t have someone trying to look out for you.

Except someone was always looking out for you, which is why you shouldn’t have been surprised when you saw Row strut through the entrance with an obnoxious pirate hat on her head. Your first instinct was to grab one of the menus and hide your face as if it would disguise you among the backdrop of the crowd behind you. Row was much too perceptive for you to slip away without consequence, so you continued to stand at your station with only a slight grimace on your face as she approached.

“Ahoy, matey,” she exclaimed, though with only half the enthusiasm you knew she could muster.

“I don’t think Jack Sparrow ever said that throughout any of the movies,” you said.

“Captain Jack Sparrow, mind you,” Row corrected.

“Right, of course.”

“I thought you would’ve remembered that better after you oh so ceremoniously dubbed me the name Sparrow after him,” she continued.

The thing was, Row could go on for ages like that, bickering back and forth with you until one of you got sick of it and complained hard enough that the other was forced to stop. Judging by the excitement that pooled in her eyes and the playful way she kept messing with her cheap pirate hat, you knew she could go all night if she needed to. Instead, you sighed as you quickly glanced over your shoulder, ensuring things were still going smoothly behind you before you turned your attention back to Row.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned as you fiddled with the stack of menus in front of you.

“I’m here to pick you up,” Row responded as if you should have already known the answer.

Just as you opened your mouth to question her further, the answer smacked the back of your head. Halloween. No wonder why she wore that stupid foam hat. Earlier in the week you had agreed to go to John’s club to celebrate the stupid holiday, and then completely forgot about it. Which is why you neared hour eleven of your eight hour shift. Usually you didn’t mind the extra hours, however, if you had remembered you would have been finishing your night off in a packed nightclub during a holiday, well… you would’ve been home attempting to recharge a long time ago.

“You’re off soon, aren’t you?” Row then asked when your silence started to stretch.

“Uhm, yeah,” you answered as your eyes flickered to the clock on your left. Five to ten. “Just give me five minutes and I’ll be good to go.”

In reality, no amount of preparation could ever truly ready you for any sort of intense social outing, and you dreaded arriving at the club the entire ride there. You had only been to John’s club one other time previously for Row’s birthday, and that had been more than enough for you. Despite it being years ago, you could still smell the rancid alcohol and feel the bass of the music ripple through your chest as if it would turn your organs into jelly. Everything was too loud, too much, too close.

But this was Row.

So when the two of you stood outside of that hulking building that shook from the inside out, you tried your best not to complain. A deep throb began to gnaw at the soles of your feet from standing for so long, and a tension headache blossomed at your temples, but at least you were offered the solace of entering through the VIP section rather than the main door. Countless people stood outside in line for even the slightest chance of being admitted, which should have made you feel special being allowed through another entrance, but you knew that meant the inside was packed more than work had been.

Except it got worse. Because it always got worse.

You almost didn’t recognize the large figure that stood outside of the VIP entrance, but once those dark eyes landed on you, you knew it couldn’t be anyone other than Simon Riley. That odd, searing feeling that had plagued you the night you went to dinner at the Price’s quickly returned as his gaze meandered back and forth between you and Row. They were soft, inquisitive. As if he couldn’t quite comprehend why you were in a place like that. As if he knew you didn’t belong in a place like that.

“Evenin’ ladies,” he greeted casually.

Even if you hadn’t recognized him visually, his voice would have been more than enough to jog your memory. You could still feel his breath tickle your ear as he leaned over your back to guide your hands into place while playing pool. The sound of him was a delicious baritone you were certain would haunt you in your sleep.

“Stuck on guard duty tonight, Riley?” Row teased.

“Somethin’ like that,” Simon responded.

“Shame. Well, Chip and I-” Row continued as she put too much emphasis on your name while she threw her arm around your shoulder, “-are going to get wasted.”

A slight smirk pulled at Simon’s lips and you couldn’t help but shake your head at Row’s triumphant claim. She could get wasted if she wished. You planned on trying to keep your wits about you best as you could in that foreboding place.

“That so?” Simon asked. He said it as if he attempted to challenge your friend, but he still stepped to the side and gestured to the open door behind him all the same. “Cheers.”

There wasn’t any time to glance over your shoulder before Row pressed onward, making sure to drag you along with her. Walking into John’s club was what you imagined walking into hell felt like. Thick, hot air threatened to singe your hair, and you instantly found it hard to breathe. Countless patrons surrounded the entryway, and it appeared that Row wasn’t the only one who felt festive as many of them wore masks, cheap costumes, or on the not-so-rare-occasion, straight lingerie. The cheering and chatting from the dance floor could almost be confused with the screams of the damned, and you found yourself taking deeper breaths than normal in order to supply your brain with enough oxygen to keep going.

“Come on!” Row shouted. Even with her yelling right into your ear it was nearly impossible to hear her over the mess of music that poured through the speakers around you. “Up top! More room!”

Despite the fact you were in the VIP section, it was still incredibly crowded. Whenever you thought of a section like that, you usually figured it would be a bit more sparse than that. Perhaps it was just that night, wild and full of insane antics, that caused the crowd to grow larger than expected, but there was slight reprieve to be found on the second floor. Though the elevation was higher, the air felt fresh as it had fewer bodies to attempt to weave through.

After you and Row got your drinks, the two of you made yourselves at home at a small table on an overhanging balcony that overlooked the dance floor. Surprisingly, it was quieter there than anywhere else, which you realized must have been thanks to the fact you sat behind the speakers for once rather than in front of them. Still, even with the slight break from the usual bustle, you couldn’t help but mess with the straw of your mostly full drink while your foot tapped on the floor.

“Well?” Row asked you expectantly. She said the word as if she had given you a question to answer, but it was the first thing that had been said between the two of you since you had sat down. “How have you been? Really? I feel like we weren’t able to talk the other night with all the extra distractions.”

“Oh. Well, you know…” you started, but the words died in your throat.

It was never easy answering a question like that. How were you supposed to twist your life into something interesting when you were anything but? All you had done since the dinner at her house was work, and if you weren’t working then you were sleeping with whatever free time you managed to scrounge up. No, the only things worth telling her were the things you couldn’t tell her, but it wasn’t like that was anything new. You had gotten so good at lying, you could almost convince yourself that you were just a very good storyteller.

Almost.

“Just work, mostly,” you excused.

“Oh, come on,” Row groaned. She took a quick sip of her drink (rum, as she made sure to point out) before overdramatically leaning back in her chair. “You always say that. It really is just work with you, huh? Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you get out? Try to talk to people?”

You nearly laughed at her questioning. Out of anyone in the world, Row should have known about your inability to really keep friends around. After so many years of knowing one another, those questions almost made it seem like the two of you were strangers. Maybe you were, in some way.

“I think we both know that getting out is more your thing than mine,” you said, attempting a bit of humor.

“It could be your thing too if you didn’t ditch me half the time I invited you somewhere,” Row countered, not as humorous. As if tasting her own venom, she sighed and leaned forward, face softer. “I meant what I said the other night. You are worrying me. More than a little.”

In order to give yourself some time to think, you raised your cup off the table to take a small sip, only to instantly regret it. Your childish, as Row put it, vodka cranberry was about nine parts vodka and one part cranberry juice. For someone who couldn’t afford to drink all that often, it tasted worse than cough medicine on your tongue, and you nearly choked.

“What’s there to worry about?” you asked.

“What isn’t there to worry about?” Row countered. “I mean, you’re working yourself half to death, it seems like you never do anything for you- hell, I don’t even think you’ve managed to score a boyfriend, let alone make it to first-fucking-base.”

“I think I’m doing just fine without a partner,” you interjected.

“My point is,” Row continued, refusing to listen to whatever petty excuses you tried to muster, “I’m terrified you’re still trying to punish yourself.”

It was difficult to believe that a place so full of life could fall so silent, and yet the only sound you could hear was the ringing in your ears. Tinnitus, the doctors said. Normal. Typical. Absolutely plaguing. There was nothing you could say in response. Her words stunned you, because unlike usual, she saw right through you. At least she put you out of your misery and continued talking so that you didn’t have to.

“Look, I… know we’re not really family. It’s not my place to say stuff like this, but it’s… fuck.” Row cut herself off with a chuckle and a slight shake of her head. “I know I didn’t know you before everything happened. Hell, you could have always been like this. But it’s concerning all the same. I just don’t want you to blame yourself for surviving.”

It must have been the alcohol. Surely. Row never talked about the accident, and neither did you. After all those years, a silent rule had settled between the two of you where you would never speak of it. Not when the anniversary of it came around. Not even when the events plagued your sleep. It was easy to pretend you were quiet about it for Row’s sake rather than your own; but really, you didn’t talk about it because you were certain the guilt would choke you on its way out of your throat.

“It’s not your fault, you know. For surviving,” Row continued.

You swallowed.

“I know,” you lied.

Row raised an eyebrow at you incredulously, and you quickly forced a half smile on your face before she could chastise you for your sloppy deception. Usually you were better at lying, but she had caught you off guard in what you could only assume was quite literally a plea to get your shit together.

“I don’t think I’ll ever not feel guilty about it, Row,” you said a bit more truthfully. “That’s the kind of stuff that stays with you. But I know it’s not my fault, and I’m not trying to self-sabotage or anything but I’ll… try harder.”

A bittersweet smile crossed her face and you found your eyes adverting to the cup of bitter liquid in your hands in order to avoid the sight of it. She was much too caring for someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Well, good. I know it’s more complicated than I’ll ever be able to understand, but I just want to make sure that you know you’re not alone in this. You’ll always have me, no matter what,” she finished, but the words rolled off of her tongue awkwardly. As if she had expected more of a fight from you.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you after her strange attempt at a confession, yet everything continued to pulse around you. The music that vibrated the very air, the patrons who jumped and danced below you like a heaving pile of flesh; it all continued. The only thing that had changed was the stale scent in the air.

“Well, what a way to ruin the fun, huh? Alright, enough sappy talk for the night, I promise,” Row chuckled as she adjusted the foam pirate hat on her head. “I’m just about empty. Wanna come with me for a refill?”

Just like Row had claimed, she spent the rest of the evening getting wasted, and it didn’t take her long to get there. In a matter of hours her speech was so slurred her words blended into the mess of noise around you, and she could hardly hold herself steady when she brought you over to the pool table for what she promised was going to be a quick game. Her inebriation got so concerning you had all but forgotten your anxiety and discomfort in favor of paying extra close attention to your friend, lest she pass out while standing up.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that you had something to focus on other than the prying eyes around you. Despite how late into the night it got, the club only seemed to grow more packed by the minute, and you were certain the roof of that place would pop off any moment. Row seemed completely immune to any outside forces as she sloppily leaned over the pool table and attempted to make her shot. Your pool game had gone on for at least forty minutes; half in part due to Row missing a majority of her shots, and half in part due to her not being able to shut up long enough to focus on hitting anything properly.

“This table needs to stop leaning,” Row muttered.

“It’s not leaning, you’re just drunk,” you corrected.

“I know that,” she whined. “Doesn’t change the fact it’s leaning.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes at her just as she flubbed up another shot. She straightened herself up and attempted to adjust her crooked pirate hat, only to make it worse, though, she didn’t seem to mind all that much as a grin crossed her lips.

“Too bad Riley isn’t here to give us some pointers, huh?” she teased.

There was something in the tone of her voice that sent a jolt through your body, and that familiar, yet confusing, heat coursed through your body again. Your skin recalled the way Simon felt against you, how his hands so carefully guided yours, how his voice rattled your eardrum so deliciously…

“He seems busy with work,” you excused.

Row’s grin quickly melted into something else at your comment. It wasn’t quite malicious, yet there was something off about it. Like she knew something you didn’t.

“Shame,” she quipped. “The two of you seemed awfully comfy the other night.”

Of course she would bring that up. Really, you had tried to forget about that event the entire week, but to no avail. No matter how much you distracted yourself, your mind would always wander back to his words and his warmth. The odd thing was, there wasn’t even anything lustful about it. It had just been the first time a man had touched you and hadn’t made your skin crawl.

“He was just being helpful,” you claimed.

“You know, you should just date him,” Row said, ignoring your comment.

For a moment, all you could do was stand there and blink. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being serious,” she slurred. “He’s a good guy, really. Quiet, too. Bit of an arse but I think you two get on well.”

“Row, I don’t think that’s-”

“And you need someone to look out for you at home, too. Those apartments look like they’re falling apart at the seams, you’re gonna get fucking robbed one of these days.”

“Really, it’s-”

“He also seems to be having a much better time following us around now that you’re here. He never seems this interested when it’s just me.”

Ice formed in your veins at her comment, and you found yourself standing there dumbfounded. Following us around? You couldn’t even bring yourself to attempt to look around for him, you were stunned and in too much disbelief to even process it that far. As for Row, her words seemed to have the exact effect she had hoped for, and she didn’t even attempt to hide her grin from you.

“What? You mean you haven’t noticed your little shadow?” she teased as she gestured to the area behind you.

It was only then that you braved a glance over your shoulder, and you felt your throat grow dry at the sight of Simon. He sat at one of the small round tables in a chair that obviously didn’t fit him right. Long legs stretched out to the side in order to accommodate his height, and he slouched back something fierce as if he attempted to make himself appear smaller. Luckily his attention seemed to be absorbed by his phone, which casted a dull glow on his face. You weren’t sure you could handle it if you looked back at him just to find him already staring.

“John likes to send him as a guard dog whenever I come here, since things can get a little crazy sometimes,” Row explained. “I promise he’s not being a weirdo. Not on purpose, anyway.”

Things only got worse after that. Her teasing, her insisting that you try to talk to him, her drinking. Her words and insinuations made your mind spin more than the small sips of alcohol you allowed in your system, and your only saving grace was that John crawled out of his office half past midnight in order to wrangle her in. It was impossible to talk sense into her, it seemed. You watched awkwardly from the sidelines as John steadied your friend by her hips, trying to keep her from swaying too much. All Row could do was giggle as she pulled at John’s shirt in an attempt to kiss him. It was a miracle that she hadn’t gathered too much attention with the scene she caused, but you still found your eyes flickering around the area as if danger lurked just beyond where the light could reach.

Though you got severe secondhand embarrassment from it all, there was something a little endearing about it all. John’s patience with her was unmatched, and you found him grinning at her more often than he chastised her. They acted as if they were the only two people in the entire building, and you wondered what that must have felt like. To not be so on edge that you felt and saw everything at once. To be so carefree that not even the hellish cheers coming from below could distract them from one another.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

You hadn’t even realized Simon had approached you until his fingertips rested on the wood of the pool table in front of you. Like a magnet, your eyes were drawn to him, but you tried not to stare too long, lest he read every thought hiding in your mind.

“Huh?” you asked; not because you hadn’t heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

“Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time,” he chuckled.

Everything in you screamed no. Despite his apparent kindness to you and Rows - inebriated - trust in him, you still didn’t exactly know Simon. All he really was to you was a stranger. A kind one, but something unknown all the same, and following a stranger outside always seemed like a bad idea. Still, the air in that building had suffocated you since the very moment you stepped inside, and maybe you were a little too grateful to have an excuse to leave for a little while.

Toward the back area of the VIP section, there was a heavy door that led out to a terrace that overlooked part of the alleyway and the street below. Plenty of people still mingled about, though they appeared much more laid back than the people inside. Cold autumn air chilled your feverish skin as Simon guided you underneath a canopy of lights that hung above your heads and towards a thick metal railing.

The cold iron felt nice in the palm of your hands, and it was only then that you realized how exhausted you were. Over ten hours of your day had been spent at work, slaving away on your feet, and instead of being able to pass out once you got home, you had been stuck at that cursed club. Of course you adored Row, and you would do anything for her, but going through all that work and effort just to watch her get wasted wasn’t exactly what you’d consider a night well spent.

“You smoke?” Simon asked as he shuffled his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. Little hints of the tattoo’s that covered his arms poked out from underneath the sleeves of his shirt, and you tried your best not to stare.

“No,” you replied while you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Good,” he hummed. “Don’t start.”

It didn’t take long for him to light the thing and start puffing away. The scent of it surprisingly wasn’t as strong as you expected it to be, and he was kind in the way he ensured to blow the smoke well out of your way.

“So, what’re you dressed up as?” he asked.

You chuckled at his question and stared down at your work uniform. It wasn’t anything special. Just a plain black dress shirt along with matching pants. Black was always the color of choice in the serving industry. It was easier to hide stains that way, be it from food or sweat.

“Oh uh, a Sapori hostess,” you replied humorously. “Didn’t really have time to change before getting dragged out here.”

He hummed again. “Sapori. Heard that place is pretty fancy.”

“It’s up there, yeah,” you concurred.

“They pay well?”

“Sixteen.”

“Not great.”

You shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

A sharp breath of air sounded from Simon as he inhaled another long draw from his cigarette, and it was only then that you realized that was probably the longest conversation that you had with someone that wasn’t either Row or someone from work. Not even Marco could force a conversation out of you for that long. It was odd. Foreign. Yet you didn’t want it to end. It was difficult to explain, but talking to Simon came natural, even with the insane heat he sparked inside of you.

“What about you?” you asked. “I know you work for John, but what do you do for him?”

“Security, mostly. And whatever odd jobs he assigns,” Simon answered. “Usually end up workin’ nights. Same as you, I imagine.”

“Yeah, though I usually am off by midnight most nights.” You laughed as you answered his question, and you weren’t quite sure why. “I’d be in bed by now if it wasn’t for Row.”

“Row?” Simon repeated. “What’d she do to earn a nickname like that?”

“I could tell you, but I think I’d have to kill you afterwards,” you laughed.

“Ah, one of those stories,” Simon chuckled. There was another pause in the conversation as Simon finished off the rest of his cigarette before tossing it onto the cement at his feet and stomping out the embers. “Alright, what about your name then, Chip?”

You opened your mouth to answer him, only for your lips to instantly seal shut. Really, the story of your nickname was probably more embarrassing than Row’s, or maybe it only felt that way because it was tied to you. Like every little thing about you was pathetic and something to be hidden.

“A while back, Row’s grandma invited us over for tea. The cup she gave me was broken just a little bit on the rim. I was too… I don’t know, nervous I guess, to ask for another cup so I drank out of the broken one the entire time. When Row found out she laughed so hard and said it was like that little teacup from Beauty and the Beast, Chip. She’s called me that ever since.”

A quiet hum escaped Simon as he fully turned to face you. Without the cigarette between his fingers to distract him, he was able to give you his complete and undivided attention. The way he looked at you was strange, and you weren’t sure what to make of the odd churning in your stomach. It wasn’t sickening, nor skin crawling, but it made your insides feel as if they were on fire.

“Cute,” he commented.

“Riley!”

Both you and Simon turned at the calling of his name, and it didn’t take long for either of you to find the source. John marched out onto the terrace with Row stumbling behind him. She had somehow managed to lose her hat since you last saw her, though she didn’t seem too heartbroken about it as she threw her arms around you the moment you were within reach.

“I missed you,” she slurred, rum heavy on her breath.

“I was only gone for a few minutes,” you laughed.

“Too long.”

“Riley,” John repeated again, ignoring his wife’s antics, “would you take the girls home for me? Don’t want them trying to head home alone when she’s this drunk. Take the car, since I’m sure you probably took your bike here, yeah?”

The man fished a set of keys out of his pocket before handing them to Simon, who shook them around a bit as if he liked the sound of the jingle. “I’ll take care of ‘em.”

Getting Row into her car proved to be a difficult task, though it wasn’t nearly as entertaining as watching Simon struggle into his seat. The poor man proved to be significantly taller than Row was, and he managed to bash the side of his head on the roof of the car. After some quiet cursing from him, and merciless giggles from Row, he managed to move the seat back far enough that he wasn’t completely scrunched over, and he took off once he ensured both you and Row were buckled in the back seat.

“This is what you get for being so tall,” Row teased. “I mean, really. There is no reason for anyone to be that tall.”

“You know, your husband is only a bit shorter than me,” Simon retorted.

“Yeah, but he puts his inches somewhere more important than height,” she muttered, just low enough for only you to hear.

By the time you had pulled into the driveway, Row had managed to sober up, but only slightly. Still, Simon made sure to step out of the driver's seat and walk around to the back side of the car in order to help her out. Once she was steady on her own feet, Row turned around to look at you, where she pointed her finger at you as if in warning.

“Stay,” she ordered.

Confused, you glanced at Simon awkwardly before looking back at her. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Once you gave your confirmation, she slammed the door shut behind her and allowed Simon to lead her inside of the house. It only took her about three failed attempts to get the keys in the lock so that they could enter the dark and quiet house. Simon was going to leave then, as she had gotten into the house plenty fine. He knew that Row was more than capable of taking care of herself for the night, despite her state, but before he could even turn around, she turned to face him with her hands on her hips.

“Chip,” she spoke, “I want you to keep an eye on her.”

Dumbfounded, Simon raised a brow as he crossed his arms in the doorway. “Of course.”

“I don’t just mean tonight,” Row corrected. “I mean, even after tonight. Every day or so if you can manage it.”

Now, that request truly did confuse him. He had only met you two times, and you seemed plenty capable of taking care of yourself. You were a grown woman, after all, yet Row attempted to make it seem like you were some helpless creature. Then again, he had only met you two times; there wasn’t a whole lot he knew about you, and Row wasn’t one to be overly dramatic. If there was something about you that worried her, it was worth at least hearing her out.

“She alright?” he questioned.

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Row sighed. She rubbed at her eyes as if she could remove the drunken haze that clogged her vision. “It’s difficult to tell with her. She’s really good at keeping things hidden, but I just know something’s wrong. I’d just… feel a lot better if you were able to look out for her.”

Keeping an eye on what was essentially his boss’s wife’s sister wasn’t exactly how Simon imagined spending his time, but you seemed like a nice enough girl. Nodding his head, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he glanced behind his shoulder at the car you sat in. After all, there were only two things Simon Riley was good at doing; fighting, and protecting.

“Consider it done.”

Once Simon was done dropping Row off, his next objective was ensuring you got home. The drive to your apartment was much quieter than you had expected, but with it nearing two in the morning you were too tired to say anything coherent. Simon seemed to read this, and instead turned up the volume on whatever radio station Row had been listening to when she picked you up from work.

You must have nodded off during the drive, because the next thing you knew, your door opened up and Simon stood with his hand stretched out for you to take. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you took his hand and allowed him to help you out of your seat before you started digging through your uniform for your keys.

“Thank you for the ride, Simon,” you said once you had them in hand.

“No problem,” he replied, though he didn’t look like he was getting ready to leave. It wasn’t until he glanced at the old, somewhat dilapidating, building that you realized he intended to walk you to your door, just like he had done with Row. “Which floor do you live on?”

Each step that you took up to the third floor was grueling, and you would have taken the lift had it not been out of order for the last two months. Your feet throbbed with every movement, and by the time you made it to your door you were ready to pass out. Your keys slid into the lock with ease, and with a simple turn of the knob the door swung open to reveal your studio apartment. A few dim lamps were the only light source for the area, but it was more than enough for you to function in to get ready for bed.

As you turned to face Simon, ready to dismiss him so you could get some well earned sleep, you noticed his attention had been drawn to your door. Everything in that building was near ancient, but your door and windows were probably the worst. Peeling paint, and rusting brass plagued the door, but he seemed more interested in the plating on the frame.

“Find something interesting?” you questioned.

“More concernin’ than anythin’ else,” he muttered in response. His fingers brushed against the old metal plating, and his nails scraped at the screws holding it in place. “How long ago were these replaced?”

You shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”

“I’ll get you new hardware,” he said as he straightened himself up. “Someone could sneeze on the damn thing and it would fall over.”

There were a million words that flooded into your mind on why he didn’t need to do that, and you were certain they would have left your mouth had you not been so exhausted. Instead of trying to deny his words, all you could do was yawn as you glanced towards your bed, which had been shoved into the far corner of the room. You were about ready to pass out in the spot you stood in.

“Get some rest, yeah?” he prompted as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

You turned to face him with a smile, and for a moment you were at a loss for words. The light of the hallway casted a dark shadow on his face, and yet his look of quiet concern still appeared so soft. A small smile graced your lips before you were able to stop it, and you gave him a curt nod.

“I will. Goodnight, Simon,” you said, voice nearly at a whisper.

Even though he was a tall and intimidating man, you did not feel the least bit of fear as you watched him stand in your doorway. Any other time, you most likely would have felt trapped if a large man blocked you from exiting your home, yet there was nothing insidious about Simon. Especially not the small smile that managed to tug at his lips as he began to shut the door.

“Sweet dreams, love.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #f!reader

244 notes · View notes

littlefreya · 9 months

Text

Summary: Revenge is a dish best-served cold

Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D

Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)

Neptune's Snare

The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Each step eliciting s husky wail - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker.

Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.

Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger.

Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death.

It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl.

“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.

“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”

“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”

The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.

Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle.

She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death.

“Take off your cowl.”

A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like.

As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse.

Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face.

There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!

“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.

“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan.

She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person.

After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.”

Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back.

“Are you a mute?”

Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…” embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”

“Captain,” he corrected.

Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.

The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment.

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head.

‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’

There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic.

August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”

“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.

His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.”

His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.

“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.

“And you came to me. Why?”

“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him.

August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second.

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded.

She nodded, her throat clenching.

August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably.

Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart.

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?”

His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest.

Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice.

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?”

Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.

But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back.

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke.

August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air.

“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.”

His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred.

“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered.

Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.

‘Do it, do it now.’

Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun.

Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.

“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react.

With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy. He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.

“I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”

With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.

Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal.

“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”

Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x ofc #AU!August Walker #Pirate August Walker #Pirate Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader

466 notes · View notes

hey-august · 5 months

Text

[Headcanons] Buggy reacting to you getting piercings

Description: How Buggy reacts to you getting pierced in general and how he reacts to specific types of piercings.

Warnings: Probably NSFW? Mention of genital piercings, but nothing explicit. GN!reader. (Edit: Replaced language that wasn't gender neutral that I missed when first posting - so sorry!!)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The guy has a few piercings of his own, so he’s supportive of any that you want to get!

Buggy would accompany you to the appointment. He’ll act like it was a last minute decision and he’s only going because you seem too nervous to go alone.

“Look at you, you’re shaking in fear.” “I’m not shaking…and I’m not afraid!” “You’re delirious, I should probably go with you.”

Disconnects his hand so you can squeeze it. Buggy’s not squeamish by any means, but knows better than to get in the way.

He’ll talk the whole time, wanting to keep you distracted. He’ll be quiet if you asked, but not for long.

Tongue piercing(s)

Buggy is pleasantly surprised that you’re getting a tongue piercing. Something about a sorta-hidden piercing really suits you.

Stands behind the piercer so he can make faces at you. He’ll wink and waggle his eyebrows when you stick out your tongue. He’ll also make fun of the face you're making by sticking out his own tongue in an obscene way. You’re glad the piercer can’t see and end up having to look away so you don’t laugh.

Since kissing is off-limits for a few weeks (along with other kinds of oral fun), Buggy decides to get his tongue pierced also. He startles the piercer by popping out his tongue after it’s pierced and acting like the piercer did something wrong.

Nipple piercing(s)

Gives you one of his billowy button down pirate shirts to wear to the appointment.

He adores how the piercings look and how they enhance your chest (which he already loved enormously).

You picked barbells with spiked ends which kind of remind Buggy of his throwing knives. Which is exactly why you picked that jewelry to start with.

Since these have a pretty long healing period, Buggy also lets you raid his personal closet and the costume closet for loose clothing to wear during the healing period. If you don’t find anything suitable or run out of options, he will bend over backwards to get* you more clothes or find a personal seamstress for you.

*Whether he’ll buy or steal the clothing is unknown.

Genital piercing(s)

Buggy is extra comforting because he also has a genital piercing (maybe more than one…)

Also goes out of his way to make sure you have access to comfortable clothes - baggy pants, skirts, dresses, etc. He even offers you his favorite red and white striped boxers. Definitely not because he loves seeing you wear those, no matter what.

Is extra scrutinizing of the piercing studio and the piercer even though you did all the research already.

If you get woozy after it happens, Buggy will comfort you and tell you that you’re so strong. He’ll wait patiently until you feel better.

If you pass out, Buggy would yell at the piercer at first. Thankfully Buggy’s reputation precedes him and the piercer doesn’t take any shit, so he lets Buggy express his misdirected fear before telling him to knock it off.

Ear piercing(s)

Maybe it’s because you’re getting an ear piercing, but this guy could not stop talking the entire time.

He tells you stories about how the crew on the ship he grew up on would pierce their ears with fishing hooks and thread. Buggy offers to take over and pierce you himself. Even though it was a joke, the piercer feels compelled to remind you both about how unhygienic that would be. The response takes Buggy down a notch and he grumbles for a few minutes before moving on to another anecdote.

Since these piercings can have a long healing period, he says you can sleep on him and rest your head on his shoulder. It’s a kind but empty gesture because Buggy moves too much in his sleep for that to work. Still, you won’t turn away a chance to fall asleep while cuddling.

Nose piercing(s)

Buggy is supportive but is in a weird mood until you get the piercing, which you expected. He doesn’t understand why you would do something that would draw attention to your nose.

Afterwards, he’s in awe of how the jewelry enhances your natural looks. Even though it draws attention, it looks great.

When you use the mirror to see how things look, you notice your nose is turning red from the irritation. You make an off-hand comment about how you two match. Behind the scowl on his face, Buggy absolutely melts. He wishes he could have some of the confidence you have.

Other piercings (facial, oral, belly button, dermal, etc)

Buggy is your number one cheerleader no matter what piercing you get. He’ll talk you up beforehand, telling you what a great idea it is and how flashy you’ll look.

He’ll tell you how the oral / facial piercing(s) suit your smile, especially when the jewelry catches the light and shines.

He finds the belly button piercing so enchanting. The way he looks at it before raking his eyes over your whole body got you blushing hard.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: If you want to get a piercing, please go to a certified piercer and research the location beforehand. Don't use fishing line or whatever. Be safe! ♡

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown headcanons #x reader

156 notes · View notes

whatthefishh · 1 year

Text

Happy Halloween, Steven

Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: this was supposed to be a fluff piece and then I thought about how Steven would look in his costume and how I'd probably react to it so. You guys get light smut.

Warnings: 18+, smut, heavy petting, handjob, jealous coworkers lol

Author's note: Thanks to @villainvindicator and @kittyofalltrades for helping me decide how to go about certain parts of this story :) xo

Jake is written in bold, Marc in italics, sorry if its OOC I was just having the best time writing this LOL

Word count: 2.5k

This wasn’t really how Steven imagined the annual Halloween party the National Gallery threw for its staff to go, but let’s just say he was over the moon with how his night was going.

The entire staff was being forced to go. Steven didn’t necessarily dislike parties but he wasn’t the best in social settings either. He felt a little better going to outings with Marc and Jake around now, it felt like he wasn’t going entirely alone. Plus, he did really enjoy Halloween.

Although Marc grumbled the whole week leading up to the party about having to dress up and how lame he thinks it all is, Jake was quietly supportive of Steven putting himself out there more and more. Especially since he picked up on his little crush on you.

Jake noticed that every time you’d rush by the gift shop, piles of paperwork haphazardly collected in your arms, heels clicking on the floors trying to make it to your destination without bumping into anyone, Steven would stop whatever he was doing and just blankly follow your movements with his eyes until you were gone. This happened maybe a handful of times per day, and every time it was the same: Steven would longfully gaze after you, sigh dramatically and then return his attention back to the task at hand. Marc usually mentally clocked out when Steven literally clocked in, so only Jake really knew about this little reaction Steven had towards you aka dopey heart eyes anytime you were in the vicinity.

Tonight’s party was a Halloween costume party, being held in the gallery’s dining hall, but it was supposed to be decked out by the party planning committee. Steven was slightly bitter towards the committee, led by Donna, since they didn’t let him help when he offered. You were on it, too, which was honestly part of the reason why he offered to help to begin with, hoping to get a word in with you, but Donna quickly interrupted your conversation to shut him down as rudely as she always does.

Steven had his costume picked out for a while, thinking it made him look bloody handsome, if he did say so himself. Jake helped him style his hair into a neater, slicked back look instead of his usual unruly curls to better match the outfit. Marc teased Steven saying that he was trying too hard for a bunch of coworkers that didn’t give a shit if he showed or not. Needless to say, Steven did not like that.

“Oi! Just because Donna’s insufferable, doesn’t mean they all are! There are some people I actually like at work.”

Yeah you’re a real social butterfly.

Marc, stop being such a culo. Steven, you better talk to her tonight.

Oh? This whole getup is for a girl?

Steven has to admit when he purchased his Captain Hook costume, the idea of you and what you would possibly dress up as dipped into his daydreams enough times. The shopkeeper looked entirely too thrilled when Steven tried on the black pleather pants, maroon vest and long black overcoat complete with gold hardware detailing and a fake sword for his belt. He also pressured him into buying some cheap eyeliner to drive the pirate look home. It was definitely not Steven’s first choice (initially he’d asked for Prince Charming) but upon looking at himself in the tri-fold mirror and seeing how the tight pleather pants made his thighs and rear look, he readily agreed, secretly hoping it would catch your attention.

If we’re gonna be here, at least we look good.

Deep breath, hermano. Look, there she is.

Again, WHO?

As soon as Steven walked in, it was almost magnetic how his eyes zeroed in on you; animatedly describing something with your hands to the angel with bright white, oversized wings next to you over the blaring dance music. His eyes widened and mouth dropped open slightly once he took in the sight of you, in a tiny, tiny sparkly, green number, hem cut in a zigzag pattern, clear high heels to give the illusion that you were floating, with petite green wings to match. The dress was much shorter than he expected to see you in, especially for a work party, but he was guessing you probably didn’t realize the effect it was having on those around you and honestly? He’s not complaining because where the hell have you been hiding those legs this whole time?!

He was beginning to attract attention just standing at the door of the hall, yet again caught staring at you with a dopey look on his face. It didn’t occur to Steven that he could be attracting attention because of how damn fine he looked tonight, pleasantly surprising some of the staff with his defined muscles on display with his costume choice - the pleather didn’t leave much up to imagination. He quickly made his way over to the food table, as one does with anxiety at a party, and scoured the table for vegan friendly options with shaking hands. Why did he come to this party again? What if nobody talked to him? What if he made a fool out of himself? Why did he think this costume was a good idea? They probably think he looks ridiculous, that's why they’re all staring…

Fighting the urge to nervously run his hands through his gelled hair, Steven stood fidgeting with his jacket and finally looked around the room to catch a handful of the more forward women blatantly staring at him bent over the table stacking his plate sky high, promptly choking on his food at the numerous eyes on him. Rushing to the punch bowl in an attempt to wash his food down before he further embarrassed himself, he didn’t notice you also approaching and narrowly avoided bumping into you.

“Are you…alright? Steven, right?” you asked just as he managed to gulp down half his cup of punch, nearly causing him to choke again as he swiveled around to face you.

“Uh hiya, yeah I’m Steven, Steven is me,” he tried to laugh at the end of that horrible, horrible introduction. He already knew your name, but pretended to ask anyway so as not to seem like a creep, which you confirmed with an easy smile. He tried so desperately not to look away from your face while you were talking but it was proving to be challenging, especially now that Marc perked up at your presence.

This is her? He playfully laughed. Steven, where have you been hiding this little nymph?

Steven wasn’t that guy, he would not be the guy caught staring at your breasts while you were showing him kindness and striking up a conversation by the punch bowl, like the nice girl he was sure you were, he would not, could not blow this chance with you. But God was it making him break a sweat at the effort. He tried to focus on some part of your face so that his gaze wouldn’t stray but then he got caught up in your eyes and the meticulous makeup you applied that accentuated the soft glow of your skin, trailing down to the perfect pink pout you wore tonight and-

She’s asking you a question, cabrón.

Ah, shit, he was not listening. Did you know he wasn’t listening? He thinks he’s ruined it now, for sure. His eyes betrayed his inner turmoil and panic, quickly making his whole demeanor tense which you picked up on with concern and asked again, “You sure you’re alright?” You ask as you move closer to him. He’s tall enough to see down your dress now and he quickly closes his eyes and inhales deeply.

This is torture. There’s a promising pink flush gracing your cheeks when he opens his eyes to look down at you. The track changes, something with a heavier bass starting up.

Do not. Fuck. This up, Steven. She’s hot, and likes what she sees.

Sí, parece que le gustas, this might work.

“Y-yeah, m’alright, more than actually,” he says, schooling his features into what he thinks is a coy smile but on Steven’s open and honest face just screams ‘I really like how close you’re standing next to me’.

You’re perceptive, he will soon learn. You’ve actually noticed him gaping at you a few times you rush past the gift shop in your hurry to get to your meetings on time, but you never get the chance to stop and chat with the cute, tousled-looking man behind the counter. You’ve taken notice though, especially tonight, with his tight black pants about to bust at the seams.

You’re smiling at him encouragingly, hoping Steven will catch on to your advances as you slowly lift your hand to finger at the lapels of his jacket, eyes slowly blinking up at him, looking over his face for a reaction. “I was just saying how it's a shame we don’t get to talk more at work,” you supply him with bits of your previous conversation. The other women who were watching this play out are scoffing at how obvious you’re laying it on for him, muttering bitterly amongst each other as they shift their attention elsewhere for the night. You have faith he’ll catch on, eventually. Hopefully.

“Me, too, I-I know you must be busy though, Donna definitely would ‘ave my head if she saw me bein’ friendly with anyone on the clock. Bit crazy, that one.” He manages to get out even with your close proximity and finger touching him through his clothes. Steven was going to slowly lose his mind if you kept dragging your finger on his clothes, your nail pressing into the fabric scandalously. There’s no way he could be misinterpreting this anymore.

Dude she wants you, stop fucking around.

And then you’re leaning up to whisper to him and he can feel the heat of your breath hit the shell of his ear and your breasts graze his arm, hair slightly brushing against his face in your movement; he can feel his dick twitch in his too tight pants, and it sounds like you’re smiling around your words as you say, “I could use some air, care to join me, Captain Hook?” Pulling back to look at him with eyes he couldn’t say no to let alone form words around. Steven thinks he agreed to join you because the next thing he knew he was being led out the doors to the main gallery by his hand, trailing after you like a puppy. Maybe Marc jumped in for a second back there. He’d have to thank him later.

You don’t stop pulling him behind you, occasionally looking back to giggle at his expression, until you reach the bathrooms on the other side of the gallery. He didn’t notice how long you two were walking, taking the opportunity to zone out at your legs effortlessly floating in those damn clear heels and the gentle sway of your hips as you brazenly walked in front of him.

Marc must have fronted again because he suddenly finds himself caging you in against the bathroom counter, standing in between your legs, hands spreading them as wide as they can in your obscenely short dress, as you sit between the sinks and you’re pulling him closer, closer, closer, until your lips meet in a hot, open mouth kiss. Steven’s hands are roving over your body, nonstop, from gripping your hips to squeezing your waist to ever so softly cupping your breast, and you moan into his mouth when he hesitantly swipes his thumb across your nipple through your dress. Your hands are in his hair, meeting slight resistance due to the product he’s used to tame his curls, his matching groans of desire echoing off the bathroom walls. You’re smiling into the kiss now, pulling back for air as you lean your head back giving Steven access to your neck which he happily attacks with his mouth, lightly nipping you in the process.

So - you didn’t think you were gonna end up with your hand down Steven’s pants - or rather Steven’s pants hanging around his knees - but you’re okay with it, more than okay with it considering you unzipped them to begin with even though he had to pull back to look at you to make sure he wasn’t making a fool of himself.

“O-oh, please, love,” he stutters out as you massage the head of his cock, thumb swiping over the slit. There was nothing you wanted more than to make Steven lose control in his stupid hot costume in the work bathrooms. He’s already breathing shakily, eyes rolling back as you work your fist up and down his cock, as you watch mesmerized, cataloging his face to memory.

Ahh, is this how every work event is gonna go from now on? You guys hiring, Steven?

Marc, we shouldn’t be here for this… As gorgeous as this little tinkerbell is

Steven tries to ignore the voices of his headmates as you continue to work him up, leaning forward to lick into your mouth partially to muffle his sounds and partially to not blow his load right there at the way you’re looking at him. He starts thrusting his hips into your hand, making you wetter just by watching him give in to his baser instincts.

“God, I’m not gonna last, love,” he whines out for you.

“Good,” you purr against his mouth.

His brow starts to furrow, and he looks up at you with a needy gaze as you pump your fist tighter, faster, your other hand reaching up to tug his hair back and he comes with a shout, eyes clenched tightly together and chest heaving.

You’re still slowly gripping his limp dick as you both look down to see his spend all over your thighs, leaking from his tip, dripping down your hand. He shyly meets your eyes as he hums happily and reaches for the paper towel stack behind where you’re perched to clean up his mess. When he comes back to wipe the white ropes off your thighs, you’re already tasting him and his jaw drops open at the sight of you smiling mischievously around your finger. You end up taking the paper towel from his hand and cleaning yourself up because Steven’s brain seems to have short circuited - something you’re very smug about at the moment. He has to shake himself out of his stupor to properly tuck himself away, and voices his concern about you not getting your own happy ending.

“Oh, we’re not done for the night, Hook,” you grin before pecking him and then gracefully hopping off the counter to stand pressed up against him.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous,” he mutters in amazement.

Told you it would work, hermano.

Steven, I swear to God if you don’t take care of her, I will.

Marc didn’t need to front anymore that night.

Taglist: @dameronscopilot @unspokenmoon @romanarose @milkymoon2483 @soonknight @lucianadraven32 @xbellaxcarolinax @raven-rk @twwcs @bit-dodgy-innit @einno-arko @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sadsatsumahead

#moon knight #moonknight fic #moon knight fic #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #moon boys #steven grant fic #steven grant x reader #steven grant my beloved #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #marc spector #jake lockley #halloween moon boys #mktober2022 #kinktober #mona writes???

1K notes · View notes

butmakeitgayblog · 3 months

Note

How about Easy A for Clexafication? I could see Clarke trying to help out a fellow gay by telling other kids in school that she slept with him. And then, thanks to her loud mouth friends, it gets out of hand with her trying to help out other guys and she gets labeled the school slut even though she’s never slept with anyone. At first Clarke leans into it and plays up the slut bit but soon realizes that it’s all too much. Her actual crush Lexa seems to be the only person who doesn’t believe the rumors. I see Lexa as the school mascot (the warriors) and she does the whole warrior getup with black eye makeup and riles up the crowd at pep rallies. Lexa also works at a local seafood restaurant where she dresses up like a pirate which is also a look that Clarke quite enjoys. Eventually the truth comes out and Clarke and Lexa become everyone’s favorite couple at school.

Ahoooo do I have a cavalcade of HCs for an Easy A au 👀.

First of all, they'd be childhood friends. The kind with weekly sleepovers and even a joint a 5th birthday party one year (despite their birthdays being 3-4 months apart, much to their parents dismay. But they insisted.) I'm talking the childhood friends who practiced witchcraft in each others backyards (potions of mud, cool lookin rocks, and leaves. Highly dangerous stuff), who learned to ride bikes together, who caught fireflies in glass jars together, who promised to grow up and get married to each other 'cuz boys are yucky' kind of friends.

And then middle school happened. And they both kinda went their separate ways.

Well.

More like Lexa grew into her own person. Doing things like joining the girls basketball team. And then volleyball. Even ruining their weekend plans with track and field practice one too many weekends in a row. She started branching out in her interests and making new friends, and left Clarke totally behind. Or so that's what Clarke has always thought (more on that later)

Cut to high school and they haven't spoken to each other in years. Not since about 3 weeks into 6th grade. There's no animosity or anything, it's just... They're strangers who occasionally wave and smile at each other in the school halls. Lexa way more often than Clarke ever does, but it's not like anybody's keeping a tally. Right? Because it doesn't matter because they don't know each other anymore. Clarke doesn't even really recognize Lexa as the same girl who used to wear matching Mutant Ninja Turtles pj shirts with her and stay up late staring at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on her bedroom ceiling while they talked for hours. Now Lexa is like, Ms. High School with all her Track and Field trophies and her badass Warriors mascot credentials (the pauldron, plastic sword, and warpaint coming across much more threatening than their old mascot, The Raccoons 😕 (tho there will always be something to be said for their freshman year when Lexa was forced to rally in the overstuffed costume while menacingly rubbing her lil raccoon-y painted hands together...)). That all has cemented her a seat at the Cool Kids Table.

Not to mention the fact that Lexa spent all of sophomore and junior year with her arm permanently attached to her (now ex) girlfriend's hip.

Not that Clarke ever cared. Or even noticed. So like, why did you even bring it up? ಠ_ಠ

Anyway.

So when her not-really friend but general acquaintance Monty asks her to... well, be his beard, Clarke agrees. In a way that, jesus fuckin hell, really got away from her faster than she ever anticipated. Because then Monty tells Jasper, and Jasper asks her to do the same, and before she even knows what the hell happened to this simple favor, everyone in school seems to believe that a painfully virgin Clarke is fucking the entire AV Club. And more.

It all spirals from there with the usual slut shaming and everything that goes along with society's hatred of women who have sex. It's only when her own best friend Raven/Wells (whichever, doesn't matter) turns on her - accusing her of being a slut and a liar and a terrible friend for not even telling them - that Clarke just says "haha Ok Fuck This" and goes all in.

Which. Whew. This is Clarke Griffin we're talking about. She's aware she's been blessed by puberty. So when she starts shaking her ass around school in tight jeans and corset tops, it has the exact effect she desires.

And then some.

More, in fact, than she had initially bargained for.

In the melee that follows of more guys bribing their way to be on the Griffin Bedpost Notches of Shame (and few a who missed the fucking memo that all of this is actually fake 😒), there is... Lexa.

Seemingly out of nowhere.

Where people had started parting in the hallways just to not touch her, Lexa seems to start showing up out of nowhere.

The smiles still come, and the friendly waves too. Nothing big. Nothing imposing, or like she wants something like everyone else. But then things like Lexa coming over to sit next Clarke during her break at the pep rally start happening (in her full Warriors getup to boot). Things like Lexa making little jokes to Clarke in passing. There's the moments when she asks Clarke if she's ok and offers her a ride after school, which Clarke always absently turns down. It's weird having Lexa back in her space again, but honestly, she's got too much on her plate to give it much thought. Because Lexa's just Lexa, and now Clarke's apparently the school slut, so... Their worlds are still very much divided.

Until eventually one night Clarke thinks she's actually going out on a date with a nice guy. I mean, she's known Finn since 10th grade. And he picks her up and opens the car door for her and everything. Like,,, this is most definitely a real date!

Except it's not, and he's a pervert asshole just like everyone tf else.

But thankfully, wouldn't ya know it, guess who happens to work at the very seafood/pirate themed restaurant that fuckboy Finn had decided on?

It's finally, FINALLY, in the quiet of Lexa's car when she parks them outside of Clarke's house that they actually talk. It starts with Clarke feeling like a fool for even thinking Finn could—... Not after everything. And Lexa of course does that thing she's taken to doing again. That calm, knowing, entirely too wise for her years kind of smile that Clarke still remembers from when they were kids.

Even in her ridiculous yet oddly attractive pirate's uniform (complete with a discarded eyepatch and clip on parrot) it's distractingly charming.

It's what has Clarke admitting that she doesn't know how she got into this mess. That she never meant to become this person. To which Lexa, in her infinite patience and wisdom, replies, "Clarke, you're still the same person you've always been. I know you. Nothing about you has changed."

Of course Clarke's dismissive answer to that is a smartassed, "Haven't you heard? I'm the school slut."

She can't help but smile at Lexa's laugh. "Actually, if I recall, you're the girl who once convinced me if I hung upside down by my feet from a tree, it'd help me grow taller."

"You can't say for sure that it didn't help," is Clarke's automatic response with a wave toward Lexa's general lanky, goddess-esque physique. Which earns her another laugh. Again, not that anyone's keeping a tally.

"True," is Lexa's response and, dammit, she's doing that all knowing smile-y grin thing again. "But you're also the girl who used to help me tie my shoes. And traded her pickles for my carrots. And taught me how to fold our secret notes so that nobody else could ever read them."

And, yeah, Clarke does remember that. Which in hindsight had been kind of stupid. It wasn't like they ever let their class time correspondence fall into the dastardly hands of anyone but each other, so the chances of interception were zilch making the whole exercise rather moot. But at the time it'd felt... important. Because what'd they'd had was only ever meant for just them.

What the hell even happened to those girls?

"You stopped answering my calls," is Lexa's simple reply. It doesn't even seem to hold any blame. "It was like... one day you just cut me out."

Which was not what had happened?

Was it?

Except, as Lexa gently explains that while, yes, she did start getting into sports, she still always tried to make time for Clarke. She did call and leave messages that kept going unanswered. Sent texts that more often than not were left on read. She'd ask Clarke to go to her games and track meets, sometimes would call her just to come out to eat with her and her teammates. But Clarke had always given her a disinterested promise for a million next times that never actually came.

Eventually Lexa just stopped trying because Clarke made it clear that she didn't like who Lexa was anymore. And it stings ten times worse because Lexa's doesn't sound angry or blaming. Just a little hurt. Maybe still a little sad even after all these years.

It's just one more thing to feel absolutely awful about. Like, she really is the universe's biggest asshole. She has no idea what to do with this revelation of her own failures, or the soft way Lexa keeps looking at her.

After that night things both change, yet stay completely the same. Because after that night when she'd apologized to Lexa and said she regreted doing what she'd done - that 6th grade her was an idiot. 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th grade her as well 🤧 - she was still the "school slut" and a social pariah, but she had her best friend back at least.

Her best friend who smiled her every time they passed in the hallway and sometimes walked her to class. Her best friend who now ate lunch with her and texted her on the weekends and would laugh at every single one of her jokes (fINE we're keeping a fucking a tally).

Her best friend, who when Clarke mentions is the only perso who talks to her without looking at her corset wrapped breasts, nonchalantly corrects, "Oh I look. Just... Respectfully."

It's hard to return the decency of that favor when Lexa walks away after leaning into Clarke's ear and whispering, "You know I prefer Ninja Turtles pjs anyway."

Clarke eventually comes clean about the whole fiasco, too the shock of everyone. Everyone, that is, except Lexa. Because Lexa kind of knew. Because, as Lexa says in all her glorious Warrior gear, when she kisses Clarke in front of the entire school at the end of the football team's pep rally—

"I told you, Clarke. I know you."

#anon #clexa #clarke griffin #lexa kom trikru #Easy A au

137 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 2 months

Text

Flashbang

Chapter 5 - Turn the Lights Off

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: OPLA Buggy x f!Reader

Synopsis: In lieu of therapy, Professor Buggy agrees to giving you pirate lessons.

Word Count: 9.6k

Notes: It's Sunday again, here is your clown. If last week was the stick, here is the carrot. Next week is the riding.

“Everybody likes to get taken for turns To see how bright the fire inside of us burns And everybody wants to get evil tonight But all good devil's masquerade under the light”

xxx

“Blink,” Pippa said. You blinked, staring up at the ceiling as she coated your eyelashes with mascara, holding stock still to avoid getting poked in the eye. There was only the one to spare. “Blink.” You blinked. She recoated the wand in product, wiggling it along your bottom eyelashes to paint them too.

Asking Pippa to help you get ready had unearthed a long-buried memory, one of sitting by Mom’s vanity and watching her apply makeup thinking that one day, you would be a beautiful grown-up woman who would do the same. The glamor of it all enticed your childish self, the allure of being beautiful sparking up some immature fantasy of romance. To the extent that you could remember, Mom had been a gorgeous woman.

What would Captain Buggy think of you if you looked more like her? If you hadn’t been so sickly, if you hadn’t gotten in an accident, if you had learned to make yourself look beautiful, if things had been different, would he like you more?

“Hey,” Pippa said, snapping in front of your face, forcing you back to attention. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, of course,” you said, forcing an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s creepy when you stare like that, like one of those porcelain dolls.” She pursed her lips, contemplating your face. You fought the urge to pull down your bandana. “I’ll add some blush. That might add a little life back into your face. Smile wide.”

You smiled as wide as you could, although it probably looked like more of a grimace. While Pippa blushed your cheeks with a big fluffy brush, you kept blinking as if to free your eyelid of the extra weight of mascara on your lashes. The inky product was heavy enough, how Captain Buggy could stand wearing false eyelashes, you had no idea.

“Do you really think Captain Buggy will like this?” you asked when she set aside the brush. You tugged at the long sleeves of the dress, nervously pulling at the skirt’s hem to bring it down a little lower. Unlike the loose, plain dress Crina had lent you, this one drew attention with its vivid striped pattern of red and white, notably fitted bodice, and ruffle trim. Wearing it made your skin crawl, made you want to shrivel up to hide from anyone who might notice you. But you weren’t allowed to feel that anymore. Determination meant squishing the part of yourself that was too weak to embrace a new version of yourself, the one that was stuck in the past.

“I think he’s a man,” Pippa said, making a little adjustment to your twintails, spraying your hair with something to keep the strays in place. “If you really wanted to impress him, you’d be better off wearing nothing at all.” She glanced at your face, her expression softening at your horrified expression. “You look good,” she reassured you. “He’ll like it.”

You nodded, exhaling in an attempt to ease the knot in your chest. “Thank you for helping me.”

“How could I turn a blind eye to such a tragedy?” Pippa asked. “You’re too cute for those awful sweaters.” She stepped back, taking it all in with her lips pursed before nodding with satisfaction. “Okay, you’re ready.”

You weren’t entirely sure you were ready, but it didn’t matter.

“Thank you, Pippa.”

“Remember that you’re doing this for you too,” she told you. “You look like one of us now.”

“Right, that’s… that’s true. I’ll see you later,” you told her, smoothing the skirt one more time before taking off for the galley.

Walking with the skirt swishing around your thighs was stranger than you would have thought. It felt flirty, in a way. Or inviting. Pippa had lent you a pair of lace trimmed bloomers that would protect your modesty while scaling the ladder or if you were caught by a stray gust of wind, but everything from your mid-thigh down was exposed.

Ignore it. Pretend you didn’t even feel the discomfort.

You picked up your and the captain’s breakfast, following the increasingly familiar routine. From the kitchen to the officer’s mess to Captain Buggy’s cabin door. Then you balanced the tray on your hip and unlocked the door, showing yourself in and setting the tray on the table.

“Captain?” you called, peeking around the doorway into his room. Buggy laid in bed with his eyes closed, but you could tell he was already awake by the way his face scrunched up in response to your voice. “Good morning, Captain Buggy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m awake,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. A moment later, he groaned dramatically, sitting up with his eyes still shut. “Get my-” The last word was lost in a yawn. You grabbed his robe, bringing it over while he pried his eyes open.

Sleepily, he looked at you, and then did a double take, blinking his red-rimmed eyes over and over like he couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at. You touched your hair, trying to pull it forward before you remembered it was pulled into tails. Instead, your hand dropped lamely, tugging at your bandana. He was going to insult you, or say you looked ridiculous. He was going to laugh. You could feel it, could sense it.

Instead, he just stared.

“Sir?” you prompted, holding out his robe.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” he asked, his voice husky and groggy.

The question took you by surprise, it was almost a letdown after such a prolonged buildup of nerves. “Um… Yes, sir.”

“Huh.” Still looking dazed, he shook his head and took the robe, swinging his feet onto the floor to stand up. You hurried ahead into the other room, setting up his breakfast while he lumbered in. You took your seat, trying to calm down. You needed to act normal.

Buggy didn’t seem especially interested, coming in with a massive yawn he didn’t bother to cover, scratching his chest absently before dropping into the chair. He blinked again a few times, and then looked at you. His eyes were rimmed with the same shade of red as his nose, glazed over. You smiled nervously, but couldn’t maintain eye contact, looking back down at the table. You wanted to start talking immediately, the words had been stewing in your head all night, but now that he was there, you couldn’t find them.

He looked like he cared more about breakfast anyway. Of all the meals, it was the one he took the most seriously, probably because he was so slow to wake up most days. Your stomach was a snarling nest of knots, but if you didn’t eat, Buggy would be annoyed. After so long without regular meals, and certainly not the hearty—if unsavory—foods favored by pirates, eating everything at every meal was a tough adjustment, sometimes it laid in your stomach like a brick. But you did it, gritting your teeth and choking down every last bite. When you swore to do anything he asked, you meant it.

Reasonably, only minutes could have passed, but it felt like much, much longer before he finished his breakfast. Buggy leaned back and belched, rolling his head around to stretch his neck. He yawned again for good measure, and then looked at you.

Now or never, right?

“Captain Buggy?” you asked, willing yourself to not be so self-conscious. “I thought about what you said yesterday.”

“What?”

“About me,” you prompted. “Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Of course I remember.”

You couldn’t tell if he meant that or not, but you were too wound up to say anything other than the words you had carefully prepared. “I want to fit in with the rest of the crew. Like you said, I want to—to be different. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to be a pirate, I really do.”

He blinked. “Is that why you’re dressed like Santa’s favorite little elf?”

“Oh, I… Um. Kind of,” you said, fidgeting uncomfortably. “If you don’t like it I can-”

“Woah, woah, I never said I don’t like it,” he said, cutting you off. “Come over here, let me get a closer look.”

You stood up, adjusting your skirt, and rounded the table so he could see the whole outfit. It was a different sort of discomfort than you felt around everybody else. Anticipatory, anxious, excited. When other people looked at you, you didn’t want to be seen. You didn’t want them to think about how pathetic you were for trying, or how unattractive you were, or judge you for things that weren’t true. When Captain Buggy looked at you, you wanted him to see your bare legs and the tighter bodice, you wanted him to think you had value, to think of you as somebody worth looking at. And you didn’t. You wanted to hide from his pretty eyes out of fear that he would think you were trying too hard, and that you were as unappealing as you knew you were.

“I like the hair,” he said. “Doesn’t really help with the whole creep thing, but it's cute that you wanna look like me.”

You reached up to tug on one of the twintails. You hadn’t even considered the similarities to how Captain Buggy wore his hair when he had his hat on. “Creep thing?”

“Come on,” Buggy said wryly. “You’re like two feet tall. Unless you’ve got the goods on display, I look like one of those weirdos runnin’ around with a kid sidekick.”

You self-consciously stood up a little taller, frowning. It wasn’t like Buggy was that tall, and it wasn’t your fault. That’s what Crina said.

Stunted development.

“Speaking of,” Buggy said, ignorant of your unpleasant thoughts. He reached out to pinch the fabric of your skirt, using it to pull you a step closer, “aren’t you worried about wearing a skirt like this? I’m relieved you’re loosening up, but there are some things you might wanna leave just between us.”

“I’m wearing shorts underneath,” you told him, flushing at the reminder that he had seen you in your underwear before. You still had no idea what had happened to Crina’s dress.

Buggy’s playful smile dropped as he lifted your skirt to look at the shorts. You wanted to smack his hand away and step back, but you didn’t. The shorts were completely opaque, he couldn’t see anything. It was fine.

“Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of wearing a skirt?” Buggy asked, releasing your dress.

“I… I don’t think I know what you mean,” you admitted, smoothing the skirt back into place. “The purpose is just because it looks nice, right?”

Buggy shrugged as if to concede the point, nodding as he appraised you again. You resisted the urge to squirm beneath his gaze. “Fine,” he said, raising his hands in defeat. “You got me, I believe that you mean it. Assuming nothing better comes up, I’ll take some time out of my very busy day to teach you a few things.”

“Really?”

“Clearly I need to take a hands-on approach if you’re gonna learn anything. I can’t have you running off to somebody else for help.”

“Thank you, Captain Buggy,” you said, smiling.

He stood up, stepping in close and meeting your eye. “You better be on your best behavior, otherwise Professor Buggy’s gonna send you to detention.”

You felt your stomach drop nervously, the words affecting you in a way you weren’t sure you liked. “I will be, I promise,” you said softly, nodding.

He patted your cheek, turning to go into the bedroom.

“And, um… Captain Buggy?” you called. He paused, half turning towards you. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I really am.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I’m not mad at you or anything,” he said flippantly. “It’s not even the worst handjob I’ve ever gotten. At least you got it off.”

He said it like a joke, most likely an innuendo, so you laughed, a little giddy with excitement and nerves and that dark sinking feeling you weren’t sure what to call. Exhaling all of the breath in your lungs, you shook your head free of all of those thoughts. The day had only just begun and you knew how quickly the tides could turn, but you no longer felt terrified of what might happen. You could do this. You would be someone worth loving.

From what you gathered, the ship was in the area where they intended to stage an attack, and that meant all hands on deck. Despite Captain Buggy’s promise of teaching you, he sent you down below to spend the morning helping with preparing the ship. You were the smallest, so you were the one who had to squeeze into the narrow storage spaces. Difficult and tiring as the work was, Marty and Pippa had been right about the previous day helping you to ingratiate yourself with the crew. Not all of them, but a few. Enough.

When you emerged onto the upper deck, you weren’t sure you had ever been as appreciative of the scent of the open ocean air. It felt like the smell of gunpowder and rot and smoke had coated the inside of your nose. You made your way towards Captain Buggy’s office with your head down, trying to give your eye time to adjust to the blinding sunlight.

“Hey,” somebody called. You didn’t look up until you heard the whistle, and then you realized whose voice it was. Your head snapped up and you raised your hand to shade your eye, to see a slightly irked Buggy standing by the steps leading up to the quarter deck. It looked like he’d been speaking to some people, but they walked away as you approached. “You deaf or somethin’?”

“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“We’re gonna start your lessons,” Buggy said. “Unless you changed your mind.”

You blinked at him, your eye still slightly blind from the sun. He was without his hat, wearing his red and white striped kerchief. The one your dress matched. Was that on purpose? You doubted it, but you liked the idea.

“No! I’m ready whenever you are, Captain Buggy.”

“Come up here.” Buggy nodded for you to follow before turning around to take the steps up to where the wheel was mounted. You hurried to follow him, almost stumbling on the bottom step while he waited at the top. “Sometime today, maybe?” He called.

“Sorry, sir,” you said, trying very hard to not sound at all winded as you joined him.

“Captain Buggy,” the red-faced helmsman, Newt, acknowledged. “Something wrong?”

“No, no,” Buggy said dismissively. “Don’t mind us, I’m just teaching a few things to my little protégé.”

Newt nodded, his eyes flicking to you and back. “Of course, Captain Buggy. Just holler if you need anything from me.”

“Do you,” Buggy began, turning around to face you, “know what this is?” He gestured behind himself.

The question seemed duplicitously simple, although there was also a chance that he thought you were that stupid. “That’s the wheel,” you said, “or, um... the helm, right?”

“Very good,” Buggy said, patting you on the head as he passed by to lean against the railing. “Remember, wherever the helm goes, the rudder follows. Where the rudder goes, we go,” Buggy said. “You-” He pointed at you. “Do not touch the wheel. Ever.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s try something a little harder—what direction are we going right now?” Buggy asked. You looked around at the open ocean, confused. It all looked the same, blue water as far as you could see until it met the seam of a different shade of equally endless blue sky.

“I-I um…”

“Here’s a hint,” Buggy said, taking something shiny out of his pocket with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“Oh, a compass!” you said.

“That’s right,” Buggy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He flicked it open, using his body to shield it from the glare. “Do you know what it does?”

“It tells you directions.”

“Wow, look at that. Two for two,” he said dryly. “Do you know how to read it?”

“Um… Kind of.”

“Come here,” Buggy said, motioning you closer.

You hesitated, realizing what he meant—how close you would have to stand to be able to read the compass. That was fine. It was silly to be uncomfortable. You crowded in close enough for him to reach his arm around you so you could both look at the compass face. No sleeves, just his bare arm. That shouldn’t have mattered at all, but it kind of did.

“You know the cardinal directions, sweetheart?” Buggy asked. He brushed your hair off of your neck to keep it from blowing in his face. The gesture was small, but it pulled a little shiver down your spine despite the hot beat of the sun.

“Of course—of course I do,” you said, clearing your throat. “North, east, south, and west.”

“You see the red hand there? That’s always gonna point north. Got it?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, so what direction are we going?”

You stared very hard at the compass, willing your brain to compute what you were seeing to find the right answer. It should have been easy, but with Buggy standing so close and the tension of nerves making you second guess yourself, you couldn’t figure it out. The more you looked, the less the letters and notches stayed in place, your vision blurring as it always did when you tried to focus on things like words and numbers.

“Time’s up,” Buggy declared, flicking the compass shut. “There’s another way to figure it out, you know. One that’s much easier. Perfect for someone like you.”

“How?”

“Hey, Newt,” Buggy called. “What direction are we going? Use simple terms, for her sake.”

“Simple terms? Well,” Newt cleared his throat, “I s’pose you’d say, in simple terms, we’re heading northeast.”

“There ya go, babydoll,” Buggy said. “Easy as that.”

You weren’t sure how useful it would be, especially considering you would never be in a navigating position, but you weren’t about to question why Buggy wanted to teach you these things, nodding instead. “Yes, sir.”

“Here’s an easy one,” Buggy said. “Where’s starboard?”

“I-I don’t know. Is it… the… upper deck?” you guessed. “Because you can see the stars?”

“Wrong, it’s—” Buggy stopped, looking at you like you were stupid. “Wait, are you serious?”

You frowned. Realizing that you weren’t joking, he burst out laughing.

“I told you I don’t know!”

“Calm down, you don’t gotta whine about it,” Buggy said, patting your head. “How about port? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not in the casks down below.”

This, at least, you were pretty sure you knew. “It’s, um, the right side? Or left?”

Buggy rolled his eyes and grabbed the top of your head, physically turning you towards the bow. “Starboard,” he said, gesturing to the right side. “Port.” He gestured to the left. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough ship stuff. If I wanted to sharpen my knife, what would you call that?”

You hesitated, confused by the sudden shift in subject matter. At least you knew this one. “Honing.”

“Edging,” he corrected. “As in, refining the edge. It’s really an all-purpose term, you can use it when you want to perfect anything. Like you, for example,” Buggy explained with a growing smile. “You’re not that different from a dull blade I wanna shape up, so you could say that I want to edge you to my personal satisfaction.”

Newt burst out laughing, and Buggy’s amusement dropped, his head snapping towards the man. “Something funny?” he called.

“No, Captain Buggy,” Newt said, his laughter dying out immediately.

Buggy rolled his eyes. “You see what he’s doing right now?” he asked you. “The helmsman has to hold onto the wheel. It’s what pirates call rimming. Newt’s good at it ‘cause he’s got so much experience. Isn’t that right?”

“Er, yes, Captain Buggy,” Newt said.

Buggy looked back to you with another big grin. “Got all that? Great, let’s go back down.” He didn’t wait for your response before going back down the steps, leaving you to trail behind, confused about the contents of the ‘lesson’ and realizing more than ever how completely in over your head you were.

A couple more hours down below left you exhausted as you returned to the upper deck to ask Captain Buggy where he intended to eat supper. It wasn’t as busy as it had been for most of the day. Ahead, you recognized Marty and a couple other crewmates, people you weren’t as familiar with.

As you passed them, the banged-up, disembodied arm of a mannequin flopped onto the deck in front of you.

“Ahhh, my hand!” one of the men cried. “Pick it up, pick it up!”

You frowned, flushing with embarrassment at the reminder of yesterday.

Marty patted your shoulder, his smile much nicer than the others. “They’re just teasing you, girlie. Don’t take it too seriously.”

You nodded. It was just teasing. You could handle teasing, Captain Buggy did nothing except tease you. So you steeled yourself, stooping down to pick up the fake arm.

“Mine was a better handjob than yours,” you said, using Buggy’s joke from that morning. “At least I actually got it off.” You held up the arm, which was intact from elbow joint to fingertip. More of a forearmjob, if such a thing existed. “It’s all about the wrist.”

Marty, at the very least, found that funny, setting you at ease the tiniest bit.

“Got a lot of experience with it, have you?” one of the women asked. You were pretty sure her name was Pogo.

Was that another innuendo? Or was she talking literally? “Probably not as much as you,” you told her, smiling to try and make light of it either way.

Marty let out a barking guffaw, although the reaction of the group seemed mixed otherwise. Flushing, shaking from the rush of adrenaline you got from speaking up like that, you handed Marty the mannequin arm.

“I have to hurry, sorry.”

You heard more jeers as you walked away, going as fast as you could. What you said was wrong, you should have held your tongue. Even if it was teasing, telling a joke you didn’t understand just to try and save face was childish.

Don’t think about it. Just pretend it didn’t happen.

Once you were in the map room, you could see that Buggy’s office door was open. He was sitting sideways in his chair with his boots propped up, reading a book. You knocked, leaning in the doorway.

“Captain Buggy?” you asked.

“What do you want?” he snapped, irritated.

“I, um, I came to ask if you would be dining in your office. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

Buggy looked up at you over the top of the book, his scowl softening before he sighed, throwing it down and massaging his temples. You looked at the book curiously. For some reason, the red leather binding seemed familiar to you.

“You’re not much of a reader, huh? ‘Cause of the-” He gestured to his eye.

“No, sir. I’m sorry.”

Buggy sighed dramatically. “Maybe I’ll get Mohji to look this over. He’s so concerned with that lion. It better dance like a goddamn ballerina, otherwise it’s gonna be dinner.”

“What are you reading, captain?” you asked.

“It’s a trade route log from that shithole town we ransacked the other night.”

You went still, realizing why the book looked so familiar.

“Do you know where it was found?” you asked.

“Big, fancy house—same place as the maps. Apparently the idiot who lived there forgot to lock his safe.”

Dad always, always kept his safe locked. Not only that, but he had it set so that the contents would be destroyed if anyone were to attempt to force it open. He had no idea you knew how to circumvent his security, you couldn’t even begin to imagine his fury if he did. But you did know how to get into his safe, and you had opened it on the day you ran away to steal Buggy’s poster, some money, and get a last look at the pictures he kept hidden. Had you reset the security measures and locked the safe when you left? You couldn’t remember, but the answer was probably no.

But you couldn’t tell Buggy about any of that. It was almost dizzying to realize how deep into the lie you were, almost completely by accident. You didn’t tell Buggy who your father was because you didn’t want him to know you were related to a retired Marine. If you said it now, he would wonder why you hadn’t mentioned it when you saw the maps, and you would look even more suspicious.

Uncomfortable indecision consumed you as you stood there, stringing together stilted explanations you weren’t even sure Buggy would listen to once you admitted to lying.

“Oh, right,” Buggy said, noticing your expression. “You probably knew the guy, huh? I bet you had no idea he was using your nice little town with its fancy little harbor to move drugs.”

“No,” you said sharply. Then, realizing how harsh that sounded, you shook your head, trying to backpedal. “I mean, that’s not… There’s no way he would do that. He’s a retired Marine.”

Buggy rolled his eyes. “Of course he was. Only a Marine would have the balls to traffic drugs but forget to lock his safe.” He snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “Now there’s a lesson for ya, kiddo. Marines are dumb as shit. Stink like shit too, ‘cause of all the ass kissing they do.”

“No, there has to be a mistake,” you argued. “I know him, and he would… He would never, ever be involved in anything like that.”

Buggy gave you a flat look. “How well do you know him?”

You balked, shaking your head. “He’s Randall’s dad,” you said, the first reasonable lie you could think of. “I don’t know him well, I-I just… I just find it hard to believe. But…” You exhaled until your shoulders collapsed inwards, trying to steady yourself and not give anything away. “That’s naive, isn’t it.”

“Good thing stupid looks cute on you,” Buggy said, standing up. He circled his desk, grabbing your shoulder in a friendly sort of way. “Eventually, you’ll learn that everyone lies. Evvvvv-ryone. That’s why you gotta stick with me, I’ll set you straight.” He winked before turning towards the door, stretching his arms above his head. “C’mon. We’re gonna eat in the officer’s mess.”

You paused before following, looking over your shoulder at the book he’d carelessly thrown onto the desktop. Was there anything in there that would tie you to dad? Probably not, most likely not. Then again, you couldn’t really believe that dad was involved with trafficking drugs either.

“Move your ass, kid,” Buggy complained. “I’m starving.”

“I’m not really much of a fisher myself,” Buggy said as he shrugged off his coat for you to hang up, “but I knew this juggler who was amazing at it. He could catch any type of fish. A real master baiter. So he and I were—”

Master baiter? You pursed your lips. Even you knew that one. “Captain Buggy,” you said, cutting him off. “Is this a joke?”

“What?” he asked, clearly annoyed by the interruption as he pulled off his gloves. “No. Why would you think that?”

If he was messing with you, his expression didn’t give it up. “Just ‘cause…” You shrugged helplessly. “Nevermind, I’m sorry.”

“Oooo-kay,” he said, drawing out the word sarcastically. “Like I said, this guy was something else, but there was one thing he never managed to catch. There’s this rare species of clam that’s pretty hard to get. Because of where they live, they get covered with seaweed, kinda like a beard. You know, bearded clams. You have to give ‘em a good in-and-out with your spear if you wanna catch one.”

He collapsed into his chair, leaning back to let you take off his hat and headscarf. His hair was such a pretty color. Buggy got annoyed if you were too rough with his hair which seemed a little unfair considering how unruly it was, but that definitely wasn’t something you intended to push.

“This guy was desperate to run one through himself, but his technique was shit,” Buggy continued. “So I was out there with him and he just kept failing over and over before he finally gives up, coming out of the water all miserable holding something shiny. He thought they were pearls, but they were actually a set of his own blue balls.”

You snorted in amusement. “Now I know you’re making this up, Captain Buggy,” you said, combing his hair back and using some of the powdery dry shampoo to soak up the grease.

“Nope, it’s all true,” Buggy said. He raised his right hand. “On God.”

“Blue balls?” you repeated. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Well, yeah. He was a juggler. Why, what do you think I meant?”

“Like…” you hesitated, suddenly doubting that you were right. Maybe you were just going to embarrass yourself. “Isn’t that something that men…”

“That men… What?” Buggy asked, turning his head to look up at you. His eyes glinted mischievously. He was messing with you, he had to be.

“I don’t know, but it’s… It’s something uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

Buggy burst out laughing, shaking his head as it fell into his palm. “You know, it makes sense that this would go over your head, you’re so short that everything else does.”

You frowned. “Will you explain it to me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You frowned and sighed, kneeling to get his boots. Buggy had the grace to point his toes, at least, which made it easier for you.

“I keep trying to figure what might happen to a girl that she ends up like you, but I’m drawing a blank,” Buggy said, his tone becoming thoughtful. “I get the daddy issues, and I even get the sort of wacky one-eyed ingénue thing you’ve got going. I’ve seen it all. For some reason, I always bag the crazy chicks. If anything, you’re a step up in that department.”

“Have you had a lot of girlfriends, Captain Buggy?” you asked, your mind latching onto that comment over everything else. The idea of Buggy with other women made you feel oddly cold.

“Girlfriends?” he repeated, like it was a dirty word. “What am I, twelve? I don’t have time for that shit.”

“But you said that…” you looked up at him, frowning in confusion. “Nevermind.”

“How many boyfriends have you had?” Buggy asked. “Other than that shidiot from the other day.”

The mention of Randall made your heart rate pick up, but you fought the reaction. Don’t think about it. It was fine. Instead, you focused on wrestling off his other boot. “None.”

Buggy snorted in amusement. “I figured.”

Setting aside his boots, you washed your hands and got the makeup remover. He’d made a mess of it all last night when he did it himself. You made a note to tidy up and returned to Buggy, keeping your head down.

“Now that you’ve got this new look, you should embrace your little deformity,” he told you as you began removing his makeup, starting on his forehead like usual. Instead of waiting for your answer, he pulled your bandana up and off, a huge grin splitting his face at the sight of your uncovered eye. Your breath caught, your body freezing in place. “Might as well go all the way,” he said, tracing the scar’s jagged edge. It split the top of your cheek, a lightning bolt of white and red scar tissue.

“Captain Buggy,” you muttered softly, staring very intently at his shoulder. Losing the bandana felt like going without underwear, and having him touch the scar was almost as bad as if he shoved a hand up your shirt. “Please give it back. Please?”

“Do you need it to do your job?” Buggy asked.

You rolled your lip between your teeth, realizing where he was going with this. “No,” you finally allowed.

“Then why did you stop?”

Your eyebrows furrowed to express your displeasure, but he just smiled. At least he had to close his eyes as you returned to removing his makeup, loading the rag up with greasepaint. Luckily, Buggy didn’t say anything else until you were finished. When you set the rag and oil aside, his eyes opened. The rings of pale green and blue that made up his irises made it difficult to determine their exact color sometimes, although it was always clear that his eyes were pretty and round and bright. They could have a strikingly youthful quality as well, especially without any makeup.

“How did you get it anyway?” Buggy asked. “Did daddy beat you a little too hard?”

“No,” you said immediately, a little abruptly. Then you stopped yourself, realizing how the sharpness of your tone might sound. “Sorry, no. Nothing like that… It was an accident.”

“If you were even half as dedicated to me as you’ve been claiming you are, then why do you keep lying?”

“I’m not lying,” you said. Not lying about this, at least. “It’s hard to… I don’t want to cry. It’s so embarrassing.”

“C’mon, what’s on the line?” Buggy asked. “Your dignity?”

Much as it hurt, he was right. What dignity did you have to sacrifice? It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Your own little pitiful tragedy. Everybody had pain. Everybody suffered bad things. You needed to be an adult about it.

“There was… it was an explosion. I wasn’t close enough to… But I got hit by debris and…” You drew a line from over your left eyebrow and down, ending with the jagged canyon of scar tissue dug into your cheek. “My Mom was,” you had to force the words out, it was as if your body physically did not want to speak them, like metal grinding against metal, “she was in it.”

Buggy pulled in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Oof. Daddy and mommy issues, that’s… Actually, that explains a lot.”

You sniffed, carefully wiping under your eye so as to not smear the mascara. Your hands shook so hard it felt violent, your body reacting even worse than your mind. Stupid. You were being stupid and embarrassing.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” Buggy asked.

“No, it… It was a long time ago, it’s fine,” you said gruffly. “My head hurts sometimes, but it’s fine.”

“No, I don’t mean physically,” he said dismissively. “I’m talking about pain. Real pain. That’s why you wear this thing, right?” He asked, holding up the worn scrap of fabric. “Because it hurts.”

You shrugged helplessly, not knowing how to answer, not wanting to answer. “I… I guess so.”

“That’s a good thing,” Buggy said.

“I don’t think…” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. You didn’t want to disagree with Captain Buggy, but you couldn’t agree either. Pain made you weak, you were more than aware of that. “I don’t know.”

Buggy leaned forward and grabbed your head, cradling it. “Pain is the foundation of all great art,” he told you, forcing you to look into his eyes. “We both know that you have absolutely zero potential, but your suffering, babydoll… Your suffering can be shaped into something brilliant.”

You swallowed hard, holding your breath in the electric limbo of the inches between you and him, burning between the clasp of his hands on either side of your head.

“How?”

“We’ll work on it,” Buggy said, releasing you. You nearly fell over when he stood up, dazed from the way he had been holding you. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day, I can feel it.”

“Yes, sir,” you said softly, clearing your throat. “Goodnight, Captain Buggy.”

Marty was polishing his weapons when you returned to your bunk, shooting you a toothy smile. Pippa was already asleep, a mask over her eyes and arms folded like a corpse. She told you sleeping like that helped with wrinkles.

“Hey there, girlie,” Marty said. After the troublesome conversation you had with Buggy, you felt more than a little appreciative for his uncomplicated friendship.

“Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?” You asked.

“I got the night shift.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged good naturedly. “It’s the job, I can’t complain much. ‘Sides, I was hoping to catch you before you turned in.” He appraised the little knife he’d been shining before flipping it closed and holding it out to you. “For you.”

“For me?” you repeated, uncertain of how to react. “Why?”

“Every pirate needs one. It’s a part of the code.”

“Marty, I…” You swallowed hard, surprised by how touching the offer was. “Thank you, but I can’t take your knife.”

“Nah, I don’t want it. I thought it looked nice when I found it, but it’s too girly for me. Go on, ‘else it’s goin’ into the ocean.”

With careful fingers, you accepted the knife, weighing it in your hand. It wasn’t big or heavy and, with the blade folded, there was nothing intimidating about it. Marty had oiled and shined it, but it was still a simple thing of metal and wood, the blade swinging out from the grip on a hinge. You had no idea what he thought was ‘girly’ about it, it seemed perfectly average to you. Plain, yes, although right then it was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

“Thank you,” you told him, curling your fingers around it protectively.

“I’ve got a feeling you’ll need it ‘fore long. Some men don’t know how to act around a pretty gal.” He stood up and stretched, yawning widely. “Alright, girlie. Sleep well.”

“Thank you, Marty.”

You stood there even after he had gone, holding the knife in a clenched fist and trying to sort through your unsettled feelings.

It was the music that woke you up. A lone melody, perfectly in tune even a capella. Virtuosity swirled in her blood, as tangible as her flesh. Beauty was not why you caged a songbird, although the lovely color could confuse somebody who didn’t know how to truly value a canary.

Weightless as the dark through which you traversed, you felt yourself drifting towards her voice, lured as surely as if it were a siren’s call.

Light from the window nearly blinded you, all you could make out was her silhouette. Achingly familiar. You’d have known her anyway, from nothing more than a single breath you would know your own mother. From the shadow’s edge dripped tears, falling even as she continued to sing, looking out into a landscape too bright for you to comprehend. Brighter and brighter. Soon it would be too blinding for you to see anything at all, too loud for you to hear her. If she turned her head, even if just by a few inches, you would see her face again. You could go to her, and her song would be happy once more. But your voice was gone, and your feet would take you no further, and she continued to sing her mournful song. That’s what she had always been. Beautiful and distant and impossible.

All at once, you know where you were. When you were. Hot, agonizingly bright light consumed everything, and the first sounds of the world breaking would be loud before they yielded to silence, and the air was bad, that’s why the canary stopped singing.

“How are you?” Crina asked. She claimed this would be your last ‘check-up’ and you were eager to get it over with, to convince her of your own vitality. “Are the headaches any better?”

“Much, much better,” you told her. It was a lie, but a small one. A harmless one. The truth was that the headaches were never gone for long and the base of your skull still thumped from the memory of whatever Ivo had hit you with and you had to sneak in frequent breaks so you didn’t pass out when you stood up, but those were things she couldn’t fix.

“Have you been eating like I told you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Any dizzy spells? Fainting?”

“No.”

For a moment, you thought for sure Crina would call you out on that lie. Of course you had dizzy spells, and moments where you had to rest just to catch your breath. That was normal for you, and you could handle it. To your relief, she didn’t press the matter, allowing it to pass.

“You look tired, are you not getting enough sleep?”

“I had bad dreams last night,” you admitted. “I don’t usually, but…” You frowned, looking at the floor. It was because you had been thinking of her, of what happened. Dad told you that it was bad to think or talk about it, that it would only aggravate the internal wound. “It’s okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “Nothing serious.”

“I have something for you,” Crina told you, picking up a wrapped package and handing it over.

“What is it?”

“Pads to put in your underwear.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”

Crina’s eyes narrowed. “For your monthly. I don’t know when you have yours, but I’m worried you’ll be too embarrassed to ask for any help and bleed everywhere. With everybody packed in like this, you have to take care of these things quickly and as cleanly as possible.”

A hot flush immediately burned your cheeks, and you shoved the package back towards her. “I don’t need them,” you said, looking very hard at the floor. “I don’t get… get that anymore.”

Although you were avoiding her eye, you could tell Crina was frowning. “What do you mean?”

You cleared your throat, willing yourself to be normal, to calm down. “The blood and everything,” you explained. “I don’t get that.”

“When was your last cycle?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It’s a matter of your health.”

You let out a shaky breath, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s been a long time. My dad said that it’s… it’s not natural, that it’s unhealthy to bleed like that. Especially since I was so sick, my body can’t handle the stress.”

“So he stopped it?”

Crina’s tone, dangerously questioning, made your stomach drop. You closed your mouth hard, your teeth clacking together. Already you were shaking your head, although you didn’t know why. “It’s not like that,” you said.

“I did not want to ask you this,” Crina said carefully, “and I wish I didn’t have to, but did your father ever hurt you?”

“No, it’s not like that,” you said again.

“One of the methods of stopping that process is surgical. Did he ever operate on you?”

“No,” you said even louder, shaking your head fast. “No, no. No. It was… food, medicine. He never… I don’t want to talk about this anymore, it doesn’t even matter, it’s…” You shook your head, rejecting it all.

Crina backed off, leaving you to shake and choke back the horrible bite of nausea in your throat. With clammy fingers, you undid the twintails Pippa had shown you how to style to let your hair hang in a limp curtain, pulling it forward to hide your face.

“I like your new clothes,” Crina said, her tone much lighter. “I assume this was Pippa’s idea?”

You nodded, letting out a choked, “yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“I… I think I do,” you said, wiping your eye. It was too late to pretend that you hadn’t been upset, but you could still save some face.

“You think you do?”

Sniffling, you tried to center yourself, to find an answer she might accept. That morning, after the dream and all of the sludge that it plunged out of your subconscious, you wanted to return to the ‘lumpy sweaters’ that Pippa hated. They kept you hidden. They were comfortable. Fortunately, Pippa did not let you make that choice, making you up like you were a dress up doll.

When you took Buggy his breakfast, he didn’t say anything weird. He told you that you looked cute. Not cute-ish, just cute. Even thinking about it put a tingly sort of heat in your belly.

But then other people looked at you, they saw the hem of the black, puffy shorts and makeup and fitted shirt and it made your skin crawl with a million tiny little ants, your spine curling and shoulders collapsing in an attempt to invert back into yourself. When they saw you like this, did they think about bleeding and babies and sex? What could they see other than your ruined face and pathetic body?

“My favorite part of deciding what to wear,” Crina said, forcing your attention back to her, “is that clothes disguise you. The louder the outfit, the less people notice the person who’s wearing it. When they look at me, they see what I want them to see. It’s a sort of… sleight of hand. When they look at you wearing this, that’s what they see. Even your bandana looks like an intentional style.”

You sniffled. “You think so?”

“That’s what Captain Buggy does with his makeup and the clothes. People were always going to see him in only one way, but now it’s on his terms.”

“I guess that’s true,” you allowed. You hadn’t thought of it that way at all, which seemed silly now that she’d pointed it out.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Crina nodded and turned away. You caught her by the sleeve, looking up at her directly. “Crina?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I were mean?”

“No, that’s not what I…” Your hand dropped and you shook your head with a pang of embarrassment. “Nevermind.”

“Alright then,” Crina said. “Do you need help putting your hair back up?”

You ran your fingers through it, although the prompt was obvious. Keep it up. Be confident. Embrace the look. You sighed, nodding. You would be bold.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” you said. “I would appreciate it.”

“Zan?” you asked hopefully, tapping on the shoulder of who you hoped was the right man. A scout that had just returned from getting a good look at the ship Captain Buggy intended to capture. A man who was stupid enough to keep Captain Buggy waiting. He looked at you in surprise before recognition hit.

“Oh, it’s you. You look different,” he said, scanning you up and down. You felt bad to admit that you didn’t remember him at all, so you just smiled, trying to force yourself not to squirm beneath his not-so-subtle gaze.

“Captain Buggy wants to see you,” you said. That was an understatement. The fact that Zan didn’t immediately give his report, instead going to the galley to find something to eat, left the captain more than a little unhappy. “That’s why… Um. I’ll go with you.”

He took a big bite of what looked like a softened biscuit and grinned, saying something that sounded like ‘lead the way’ through his mouthful of food. You nodded, turning to cut your way towards the ladder to the upper deck. The berth was thick with activity and noise and motion and new scents and colors. Everybody had something very important to do. They were calling it a dress rehearsal, and with that came no small amount of makeup and costumes. The Buggy Pirates weren’t going to raid a merchant vessel like any other pirate crew, they were going to put on a show. Any survivors would well remember the performance.

The upper deck swarmed with further chaos. Everything needed to be checked and double checked. Rather than the horrible nerves you felt at the prospect of violence, the air crackled with carnival-like excitement. Artistic egos and violent impulses had been building up to a breaking point with each day aboard, but now they had the promise of release.

“Are you gonna join in the fun tonight?” Zan asked you. He’d gotten very close so you could hear him over the noise, standing in your blindspot in a way that made you jump.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, smiling apologetically.

“Hm. All dressed up with nowhere to run, that’s a shame.”

“Is it fun to be a scout?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

Zan shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it’s fun, but it’s important. The captain sends men like me because I’m the best. I’ve got an eye for spotting the most profitable ships. I’ve got an eye for beautiful things too.”

“Which eye is which? Ships on the right and beautiful things on the left?” you asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from anything uncomfortable. “Or the other way around?”

Zan laughed. “Let’s check, hm? Look at me and-” He covered his left eye, looking at you. Then he covered his right eye. “Hm. I guess both of them are good for spotting beautiful things.”

You laughed nervously, tugging your bandana down.

“You know, while we were out there we happened upon a huge sea beast,” Zan said as you took the steps up onto the quarterdeck, undeterred by your reaction.

“What kind of sea beast?”

“It was hard to tell with all of its thrashing, but it was a frightful thing. So big that I could only see its outline in the depths.”

“Really?” you asked without any shred of belief, opening the door into the map room.

“I damn near lost my arm.”

“How’d you get away then?” you asked, walking around the table to knock on Captain Buggy’s office door.

“Well, that’s a tale unto itself,” Zan said. “But rest assured, the foul beast is ‘armless.”

“Come in,” Buggy said, his voice muffled. You hesitated before opening the door, registering Zan’s terrible joke. Armless. Harmless. You couldn’t help but let out a little burst of laughter, letting Zan enter as you tried to control your amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Captain Buggy snapped, scowling. The mood of the room, of Buggy’s thunderous expression and Cabaji’s respectful impassivity finally hit you like a wall of ice. You cleared your throat.

“Nothing, Captain Buggy,” you said, bowing your head. “Just a… a joke.”

“Oh really?” Buggy asked. He smiled, but it didn’t at all reach his eyes. “Let’s hear it then.”

“It’s nothing, Captain Buggy,” Zan said. “I have the report.”

“Do you? Here I was thinking maybe you’d taken up a career in comedy instead. It’s funny that you think you can keep me waiting while you stuff your face and try to flirt with my half-wit errand girl. Speaking of-” Buggy looked at you, nodding to the door. “Out.”

“Yes, sir.”

Standing in the sun for too long left your head aching and sunburned your scalp, but you didn’t dare leave your post, resolved to wait patiently and professionally. It was hard to not take Buggy’s moods personally, but he probably didn’t mean it. You understood why he was unhappy, tonight was a big night and Zan was behaving unprofessionally. What worried you more was his use of the word ‘flirt’. The word was a crime unto itself, bearing down on you with suffocating amounts of guilt. That’s why you didn’t dress like this. It was an open invitation, a signal you sent out that practically begged for that sort of attention.

You had no idea how much time passed before Zan left Captain Buggy’s office. He left with his face resolutely turned forward, walking fast without any acknowledgement of your attempted apology. Cabaji followed shortly behind him. He said nothing, only acknowledging you to nod you back into Buggy’s office.

That did not bode well.

Steeling yourself with your hands balled into fists at your sides, you braved going in. The door into his office was open for you. Buggy was writing something furiously, muttering under his breath. After standing in the sun, the relative cool of his office made you shiver. You waited for a couple of drawn out seconds, consumed by the painful thud of your heart, the scribbling scratch of whatever he was writing, and the chaotic chorus of the crew out on the deck.

“Should I get your lunch, Captain Buggy?” you finally asked. His head popped up so fast his hat wobbled, although his expression wasn’t especially animated. He appraised you for a long moment before dropping his pen, leaning back.

“Come over here for a minute first,” he said, gesturing you to him with curled fingers. With your hands clasped nervously in front of your stomach, you approached his desk. “No, come over here,” Buggy ordered, turning his chair and pointing at the floor in front of him. You circled the desk, standing in front of him.

Buggy grabbed you by the hips, pulling you forward until you stood between his legs. You stumbled, grabbing his shoulders to keep from falling into him completely.

“I know everything that happens on my ship,” Buggy told you. “I mean that. Everything.”

That wasn’t what you expected. You nodded in understanding, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“I’m starting to think you’re not the sweet, innocent girl I thought you were,” Buggy said, idly swaying you back and forth. Your entire body stilled, physically halted by those words and the liquid lead they injected into your heart.

“Captain?”

“Look at you! All grown up. Makeup and everything.” Buggy pushed you back to hold you at arm's length, his eyes slowly scanning down your body. “I might have to cover you up a little if my crew can’t behave with you hanging around tempting them like this.”

“I’m not trying to…” you said, the words sinking cold and sick into your stomach. “No, I’m not… That’s not my-my intention.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buggy said, rolling his eyes. “You’d never go around looking like this to tempt anybody. What would you even do if you got a man’s attention?” He sighed, nodding sympathetically. “The real question is what a man would do to you… I think it’s time you and I had the talk.”

He was clearly messing with you, but it worked, you recoiled, your skin crawling. “Captain Buggy, I don’t… It’s not a big deal, right? I would never ever do anything, I mean that.” you said, trying very hard to keep a cool head despite the way your face burned.

“I get it. It’s embarrassing to talk about this sort of thing. Normally this would be a father’s job, but I guess he kinda dropped the ball on that one, huh? The point is that you gotta be careful. You know what I’m talking about, right? The birds and the bees… No?” You didn’t respond, far too aware of the awkwardness of your body, the flush blazing all the way up into your ears. “That’s not ringing a bell?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Well, I didn’t want to be vulgar, but I would never forgive myself if I let you go out there looking like this and you got knocked up or something. I mean, whew, better hope you brought a hanger or something. Just remember—no glove, no love.”

Knowing better than to push his hands away, you settled for covering your face in an attempt to hide the embarrassment of disgust and shame. Buggy laughed at your reaction, reaching up to tug on one of your twintails playfully.

“Oh, come on,” he complained. “Don’t be like that.”

“Please don’t joke about that,” you said, dropping your hands a little. “I… Please?”

“I wasn’t joking. I mean, shit, can you even carry a baby?” he teased, releasing your hips to tickle your sides. “Where would it go? Scratch that, where would the dick even go?”

“Please stop!” you exclaimed indignantly, grabbing his hands to still them. Buggy used that to pull you back into place.

“The real laugh is that I’d let anyone get that close,” he told you. “Oh, hey, there’s some vocabulary for ya. What do you call somebody who tries to take the captain’s property?”

You cleared your throat. “Um… A thief?”

“Dead.”

You stopped squirming around, a nervous laugh bubbling up from your gut before the flat look in his eyes really registered.

“What was it that you said?” Buggy asked, giving you a familiar look. A smile lurked around his mouth, but his eyes shined with a keen mania as they studied your face for the slightest trace of defiance. “When you begged to join my crew, I mean. That you’ll happily serve me for…”

“I’ll happily serve you for the rest of my life,” you finished for him, knowing better than to do anything other than wholeheartedly agree. “I-I mean it, Captain Buggy. If I—If I did something wrong, please tell me and I’ll stop or… or… Anything you want.”

“I want…” he said slowly. Then the bubble popped, and he pushed you away a few steps. “I want you to go get us some lunch. I’m starving and as adorable as those thighs of yours are, you could use a little more meat.”

“Yes, sir,” you said.

“Oh, and babydoll,” Buggy called. You turned to him, head tilted cautiously. “Mosey on down to the brig at some point to find a comfortable spot, you’re gonna have to stay down there for our dress rehearsal tonight. Things are gonna get a little bloody up here.”

#opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #my writing #flashbang

66 notes · View notes

thirstydiglett · 6 months

Note

Oh Lenny, amazing wonderful Lenny 😭😭😭 pls just a crumb of something maybe possessive Law, just a lil nibble nibble 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I hope you're having a wonderful night so far homie g !!! 💖💖💖✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Omg yesyesyesyesyesyes

Started writing this bullet style because I am lazy but then it got really long but also I was still lazy so it’s just gonna have to stay like this

Also my night is lovely! I got to dress up like a witch and eat cheese curds today so it pretty much couldn’t get any better. Hope your night is good too my loveeeeeeee 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Mine

WARNINGS: public sex, possessiveness, choking, spanking, some dubcon

———————NC17 Minors DNI————————

The Polar Tang had finally landed at an island after weeks of sailing, and you and the crew were eager to finally get your feet on solid ground

When Shachi suggested you all go out drinking together, you were the first person to say yes

To your surprise, your captain agreed to come out with you all as well—usually he didn’t like crowds, but strangely he’d said yes as soon as you did

Eager to get out of your jumpsuit, you changed into a dark red velvety crop top and tight leather pants, with heeled ankle boots to finish the look

Styling your hair properly and doing your makeup for the first time in weeks, you were surprised at how hot the person in the mirror staring back at you was

It had been so long since you’d gotten laid, you were really hoping to get lucky tonight

As your crew walked to the tavern, you couldn’t help but notice your captain’s eyes on you. His gaze cool and penetrating, indiscernable

But every time you turned around, he seemed to be looking anywhere else

Annoying, you thought, pretending like the feeling of his stare hadn’t sent inexplicable chills up your spine

Shaking your head, you followed your crewmates into the lively and crowded tavern

Two drinks later, you were laughing your ass off with Bepo about some pirate you’d encountered recently, having the time of your life

Reaching into your pocket, your face fell as you realized you hadn’t brought enough cash

“Bepo, any chance you can spot me?”

Bepo shook his head. “You still owe me for last time you forgot your wallet.”

You sighed, “Fine. Guess I’ll just have to get one of these townies to buy a pretty girl a drink…”

Bepo’s face suddenly turned pink. “Maybe you…what if… our captain wouldn’t… It might not be safe!!!” He finally managed to get out

You laughed, ”I can take care of myself dude. Unless you wanna buy me one instead?”

Bepo crossed his arms stubbornly. “Not a chance, y/n.”

Rolling your eyes, you scanned the room for a target

Finally you settled on a muscular blond man covered in tattoos

He was with his friends (so no girl in sight), clearly a few drinks deep, and pretty easy on the eyes—maybe he’d even break your dry spell if you played your cards right

Walking over to him slowly, you gently rested a hand on his shoulder

“Whoa, I love your shoulder tat! What’s it mean?”

The man turned, scanning you with his eyes, smiling at what he saw

“Well hey there, cutie. It’s the Jolly Roger for my brother’s crew, actually”

You feigned interest. “Wow, your brother’s a real pirate? What’s it like?”

The man smirked

“Why don’t i buy you a drink and I’ll tell you all about it?”

Yessssssss

You nodded enthusiastically and were just about to sit down when you heard a voice from nearby

“Room.”

Suddenly, the entire tavern was enveloped in blue light, the bar patrons looking around in confusion

“Shambles.”

You felt yourself ripped from your chair in an instant and teleported by what could only be Law’s fruit

Finally landing, you found yourself outside the tavern, standing against its wall in the quiet alley beside it

“Law, what the hell? Where are you?”

Suddenly two hands grabbed yours and pinned them above your head, and two piercing yellow eyes were just inches from yours

“Y/n, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’re the one that just used your devil fruit to yank me out of the bar, asshole.”

“Yeah, because you were hitting on that absolute waste of space of a townie.”

“I was just trying to get a free drink, Jesus!”

Law’s entire body suddenly pressed against yours, one hand moving to squeeze your face almost roughly

You felt your legs shaking as a strange, sudden flood of desire for the man coursed through your body

Leaning in, his lips inches from yours, his face flushed, he spoke

“What in hell makes you think he’s good enough for you?”

You blink. “W-what?”

“You could have a fucking Warlord, y/n, and instead you’re flirting with randos at a bar in the middle of nowhere?”

Law’s face betrayed a strange amount of pain in it, more feeling than you were used to seeing in your captain

You blinked again, slower this time. “Are you… are you jealous of him?”

Law stared at you for a moment, like he was trying to decide what to do

Then, suddenly, he grabbed you hard and yanked you close to him, his lips crashing into yours

The heat pooling between your legs—things you’d never realized you felt for your captain—ensured that you kissed him back, your tongue dancing with his, his hands desperately groping at your body

You almost immediately began to unbutton his jeans, feeling his cock pulse against your fingers

“God… please, y/n…”

You freed his member from the confines of his pants quickly, taking it into your hand before suddenly he stopped you, looking into your eyes

“Before we do this… you should know that I don’t share, y/n.”

You smile teasingly. “So what, does that make me like your girlfriend?”

“If you want to be.”

Oh.

You’d never really considered it before, but you can’t deny how close you’d always felt to Law. He had a strange way of making you feel safe even in the scariest circumstances

His kindness beneath his creepy exterior, his fierce intelligence, his loyalty to his crew

And the throbbing of his (surprisingly big) cock in your hand was only making it easier for you to make a decision

Wordlessly, you nodded, never breaking eye contact

Law smirked

Pinning you hard back against the wall, he had your shirt off in a heartbeat as you stroked him, rubbing drops of precum (holy shit, he was practically drooling for you) back onto his cock as you did so

He moaned, a sound you’d never heard him make before

It was strangely vulnerable and left you just that much more eager to play with him

Eagerly, Law squeezed at your breasts, flicking and pinching hard at your nipples, leaving you moaning in turn

His hand made its way to your throat and squeezed suddenly

It wasn’t enough to cut off your air, but it left you dizzy all the same—you were surprised to say that you kind of loved it

Yanking your hips from against the wall and digging his pelvis hard into yours, he slapped your ass hard

First once, then repeatedly

You couldn’t help the squeals escaping your mouth as he struck you, feeling your juices staring to overflow, running down your leg

“Don’t you ever—“ slap. “Talk to losers—“ slap. “At random shitty bars—“ slap. “EVER again—“ slap. “Understand me?”

All you could do was moan his name as he finished spanking you, stroking your ass softly to take the pain away

Law gently released your throat, letting you breathe normally again

You felt your legs giving way as you breathed deeply, but Law caught you, wrapping them around his waist

“Ready for me to fuck my pussy?” He murmured as he slid your pants down enough to position himself between your legs

“God yes, Law… please, it belongs to you and only you…” you gasped

The words were barely off your tongue when the head of Law’s cock pushed inside you

Stars sparked in your eyes as he slowly filled you, two fingers sliding down to trace circles on your clit

He held his position for a moment, letting you adjust to being stretched by his girthy cock before he started moving, slow at first

“I’m going harder,” he warned you, kissing you gently before he began thrusting deep into you

Over and over, he hit that spot inside you that had you screaming his name, flooding his big cock with your juices

You felt yourself rocketed to the edge of cumming within minutes, your body twitching and humming with the feeling of him touching you, kissing you, filling you

You’d never known you could want someone like this, least of all your own captain

Your back was arching before you know it, and your orgasm overtook you, spilling you into Law’s strong arms as you screamed into his shoulder, not giving a fuck who heard

It wasn’t long before Law followed, grabbing your already sore ass and growling your name as he pumped ropes of hot cum deep inside of you, marking you as truly his own

The two of you collapsed against the wall of the tavern, catching your breath as Law pulled you close to him

“Not the most romantic place for our first time, but it was still pretty fun,” Law laughed as he pressed a kiss to your hair

“My y/n.”

“Should we get back to the others?” You asked

Law considered it for a moment

Then he smiled

“I’m going to go tell Bepo we’re tired and going back to the ship early. After all, there’s so much more of my girl I haven’t gotten to enjoy yet.”

End

#one piece law #trafalgar d law x you #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #bepo one piece #penguin and shachi #trafalgar law x reader #Diglett writes

133 notes · View notes

willowser · 10 months

Note

I love how angsty pirate kirishima is

Hehe imagine reade not really taking his feelings seriously, so they don’t mind flirting back and fourth w people at bars. Letting them wrap their hands around ur waist etc etc … but kiri is insecure and actually very serious about you so as soon as he sees that he’s jealous and wants to push the other off of you.

I love the idea of him just wanting readers validation at the end of the day 🥹

noooo, bc the thing about reader and pirate kiri is. i don’t think you do take him seriously at first !!! 🥺 bc you don’t know much about him, personally, other than that he’s a pirate !!! and you never know with those adventurous guys like that; if he’s got other partners in other places, someone to lie with wherever he stops 🥺 and he’s not around always, y’know ?? sometimes he’s gone for days, weeks, maybe even months ? depending on how much he gets into out there. so you just don’t know !!

so then he shows up one day to see some other gentlemen making their move on you 🥺 and he’s been out at sea !! thinking of only you !! 🥺 just to walk back in and see such a thing in a local tavern !!! 🥺 i imagine he’s got some small bouquet of your favorite flowers — which you only mentioned once, but he remembers !!! — and he sees you laughing and smiling and i think he just. walks up to the bar and lays the flowers right in front of you, wordlessly.

and you look up all surprised because you didn’t even know he was back in town — he literally just got in and came straight to find you 🥺 — and he just smiles at you kind of sadly, but before you can even say his name or anything, he just nods once to you and then turns and walks out. and you’re left there stunned !! because you did miss him, too 🥺 you sort wish you hadn’t, since you don’t know where you stand with him and everything 🥺 but you can’t deny that you did 🥺 and the other man is asking who that is and telling you not to worry about him but 🥺🥺🥺

i like to think that you do go find him, after that 🥺 you bring your little flowers and you go to the docks to see him loading up like he’s about to leave 🥺 carrying stuff onto his ship, as you stand by and watch him quietly, and when he turns around to grab a small crate of something, you’re sitting on it, smiling at him.

“forget something?”

and he finds you so cute !! so he can’t help but to smile a bit, though you can tell his feelings are hurt. he shakes his head: “didn’t mean to interrupt ya’.”

“i’m glad you did,” you tell him honestly, and the sincerity weighs your smile down into something serious that makes him frown, too.

“are you?” he asks quietly, like he’s not sure he wants to know the answer, but he smiles again, just a bit, when you nod and bring the flowers to your face to smell. “how glad?”

you roll your eyes a bit when he laughs, because he’s so cheeky and handsome, with his little grin, but you pull your feet up onto the crate you’re sitting on and adjust your dress, lay the flowers in your lap. and kirishima steps right up to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek. you tell him, “so glad, in fact, that i think i will sit right here, so that you cannot leave again without me at your side.”

he doesn’t even pretend to think about it; instead his grin grows, and he is disregarding the flowers entirely just to hoist you up into his arms. “alright boys, set sail before she changes her mind!”

and you laugh and you smack him for being silly and you take his hat off his head to wear yourself, all while he laughs, whiskey-warm 🥺🥺🥺

#WAAAAAHHH i love him #and then you sail away to some uncharted island and the crew leaves you there for a night or two for yourselves 🥺#and when kiri takes you back — bc as much as he wants you there it’s not exactly safe for you out on the open ocean — he gets a lil nervous #and tells you to wait for him this time 🥺 and you promise you will 🥺 that you’d wait as long as he asks you to 🥺#he makes me SICK i want him so bad #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ theme: pirate kirishima

124 notes · View notes

rorywritesjunk · 18 days

Text

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. I also gave him some anxiety and stuff because while he’s in love he doesn’t believe someone could love him back. He just has a lot of uncertainty with romance. Mawwiage happens. Alcohol is mentioned. Everyone’s having a good time. A/N: The epilogue! Enjoy. I am not done with these two in the sense I'll do more one-shots and the likes for them as well as AUs with Buggy's older sister and The Wives. Thank you to everyone who's been reading this! Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Epilogue

The marriage was far from perfect.

Your first actual fight showed Buggy you were capable of not speaking to him for an entire week. It was regarding one of Mohji’s animals, a bear that fell ill and passed away. You had been upset for both the loss of the animal and Mohji; the boy loved that bear so much. All Buggy suggested was that you not… cry so much over it. That was it, suck it up and move on. It was just a bear.

He was on his knees begging for your forgiveness by the end of the week.

Then there was the time you accidentally cut up his favorite shirt. He had left it for days on the scrap fabric pile you collected in the bedroom and asked him many times if he was sure that shirt needed to be there. He had insisted it was, but a week after you cut it up into scraps to patch some of the crew’s clothes, Buggy asked about it. You both needed to work on more than verbal communication.

And a few years into the marriage, Buggy was feeling less like you were going to leave him for every person who talked to you that he was pretty relaxed - a little too relaxed because for your birthday he took you to a pub, got a little drunk, and made a comment about how hot the barmaid was. You weren’t mad, more amused by it, but when you reminded him the next day when he sobered up what he said, he was mortified.

You were leaving him for sure for that, he was certain of it.

On his birthday you disappeared for a day on an island you begged to be dropped off at. Buggy caved, wanting to do anything for you in hopes you would forget how he acted like an ass on your birthday again. Maybe you just needed a break from him, even if it was on his birthday.

You came back after meeting up with Kuro and oh, oh the divorce was inevitable now. You had told him a few days after your birthday when he had a meltdown over how he acted and he begged for you to tell him if there was any man or pirate alive that you would have been with other than him and… that fucking cat pirate was the one you chose. Oh, he was handsome and he dressed so sharply, and you felt you had bragging rights over how well he dressed because he was your first true customer that you had repeated business with.

It was a dagger to Buggy’s heart, over and over and over again.

“What’s got you so upset?” You asked when he stopped responding, slumped on the floor with an almost empty bottle of rum beside him. You moved the bottle and knelt beside him, touching his shoulder. “You feel okay, honey?”

“Are you leaving me for Kuro?” He whimpered, refusing to look at you because he just knew the answer. You’d be happier with a better dressed pirate than with Buggy. It was startling when you chuckled and kissed him on the cheek.

“No, no. I’m not leaving you for cat-boy.” You told him as you tried to coax him to look at you. “I was getting your birthday present, Buggy, to show you how much I love you.”

He sniffled, lifting his head to see you taking your shirt off. A look of confusion crossed his face as you turned yourself to show him your arm, revealing a tattoo of his jolly roger.

“This isn’t your only present, y’know, I’m gonna make you a feast.” You said as he sat up quickly, trying to get a closer look, but the alcohol was hitting him and he slumped against you, looking up with large, watery eyes as you stroked his cheek gently. “I love you, Buggy, and I’m never leaving you.”

That… that helped. He felt better after that, though still had doubts.

The conversation about kids was… not what he anticipated. He thought you’d want kids right away, he saw how you were around children, how your eyes lit up at the family gatherings each year when you got to see all the kids(he loved the look of horror each year on your aunt’s face when the two of you showed up, she didn’t expect the marriage to last). He watched you pick up your cousin’s baby - he was two years younger than you and his wife just had their first kid. Your eyes lit up and Buggy watched your face soften with a smile he hadn’t seen before.

He waited until you two were alone to ask. To his surprise you snorted at his question and gave him a kiss. “Not just no, but hell no.”

“Wait, what?”

“Buggy, I like what we have now. Maybe someday we can have cute little kids but not right now.” You told him as you patted his cheeks gently. “And I don’t think we’re ready at all. Kids can be a discussion in a few years, okay?”

“Oh thank God.” Buggy sighed as he slumped against you, wrapping his arms around you and tightening them around you. “I can’t deal with that right now.”

You laughed softly and kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned against him. “Neither can I, honey.” You smiled and looked up at him, pulling him down and bumping your forehead against his gently before kissing the tip of his nose. “I love you, Buggy. Thank you for talking to me about this.”

He blushed but didn’t look away as he hugged you. “Love you too, babe.”

It was a yearly thing for him to drink and reminisce about the good ol’ days as an apprentice on Roger’s crew. It was always the anniversary of his former captain’s execution. The first time you witnessed it he didn’t explain it to you, just grabbed bottles and bottles of alcohol to drink with the crew while you waited for an explanation on why this was happening. It wasn’t until you wrangled him to bed after he was strutting around the ship, saying he was still a great swimmer even though he was a Devil Fruit power. Before he could jump over the ship to demonstrate this, you grabbed him by the back of the pants and dragged him to the bedroom for him to sober up and explain.

Buggy slumped on the bed, not bothering to take his shoes off so you helped him. He giggled, face lighting up as you helped get him comfortable for the night.

“I got the best wifey.”

“And I have the best hubby.” You chuckled as you glanced up at him. “Can you tell me now what the drinking is for?”

“I drink to my captain!” Buggy told you excitedly, pumping his fist up to the air. “H-He was executed on this day eight years ago! I drink in his honor and to hi-his memory!”

“Oh.”

You didn’t question him further, just made sure he was comfortable that night. The years going forward, you made sure he was safe, had a reasonable amount of alcohol, and put him to bed. He never talked about it the next day, either because he didn’t want to or didn’t remember, you weren’t sure but you figured if he wanted to talk he would.

You were eleven years into this marriage. It… it was fine. It wasn’t too exciting, nor was it incredibly boring. It was just fine for you. Buggy let you take on certain roles on the ship, mostly just making sure everyone looked their best in their clothes so long as he was the best dressed. He trusted you weren’t leaving him any longer, which made it easier for you to slip out of bed in the morning to start breakfast for the two of you.

It was just right.

This morning was no different. He had his fill of alcohol the night before at the local pub with some of the crew, leaving you on the ship for a peaceful night. Buggy managed to stumble his drunken self back to the ship without falling into the water. He was sleeping off the alcohol, head under the covers as he laid curled up next to you. You woke up with him in your arms, but you managed to slip away from him. You were going to wait to start breakfast, wanting to run out to the shops first to pick up some goods before the crowds started.

Buggy stirred, peeking out from under the blankets with a grumpy expression as you got dressed. He lifted his head up just a bit before letting it fall back on the pillows. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” You told him, keeping your voice soft as you pulled your shirt on. “I’m going to get some things. Any special requests?”

Buggy nodded, mumbling something under the blankets. You walked over and pulled them back just enough for him to mutter it to you, asking for some apples and peanut butter. He finished the last jar a week ago and had been wanting it. You rolled your eyes and kissed him on the forehead. You needed to buy two and hide them from him, apparently the last jar wasn’t hidden well enough.

“I’ll grab that for you. Anything else?”

“D’you hafta go?” He whined softly. “I want cuddles.”

“I’ll be back, honey.” You assured him as you made sure the blankets were keeping him covered. “I’ll have breakfast ready for you when you wake up, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise I’ll have breakfast-”

“Promise you’ll be back?” He lifted his head again, pouting up at you.

“Oh, of course I’ll be back.” You chuckled softly as you kissed his forehead. “I’ll be gone for a few hours, honey, but I’ll be back.”

He frowned sleepily but nodded, settling back down under the blankets. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and tucked the blankets around him once more before you grabbed your wallet and headed out. It shouldn’t take too long to collect what you needed, but you were excited to be at this village. You hadn’t been there in over twenty years and you wondered if there had been any changes to it.

And you enjoyed walking around as you collected your goods, putting them in your bags and basket as you chatted with the vendors about what they were selling, how the weather had been lately, just little things that weren’t related to piracy. You loved your life but having a conversation that wasn’t about what Richie had eaten the night before to upset his stomach was nice.

Your last stop was for peanut butter which you found in a little shop near the docks. It was a cute little place, selling all kinds of tasty ingredients and foods, but you only bought the peanut butter, knowing you could easily go broke buying all the fancy ingredients in the shop. Maybe if Buggy ever became incredibly rich and had lots of treasure you could think of something like that.

You bid farewell to the shopkeep as you stepped out of the shop, not watching where you were going. Something bumped into you, startling you, and when you turned to apologize, your voice caught in your throat. As far as you were aware, you were very sober so what was this you were seeing in front of you?

“Hey, watch it!” The kid in front of you snapped, glaring daggers up at you. His blue hair and bright red nose was very familiar to you.

Oh, oh no, what was going on?

#buggy the clown #sunny x buggy #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x oc #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy x you #opla buggy x oc

29 notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 6 months

Note

It is Halloween soon! Zack throws a Halloween party on the 49th floor (can be big, can be small, however you'd like to write it) and has decided to use an ouija board. What chaos breaks out?

(Also i was bday anon, thank you so much, your posts are life 💞)

Zack's Halloween Party

• To cease the arguments over who gets to host the annual SOLDIER halloween party, Director Lazard comes up with an idea.

• He writes down each of his SOLDIERs' names on small slips of paper and places them in a huge bowl, then summons them all to an impromptu meeting.

Lazard: Whoever's name I pull out will be the designated party organizer. Does that sound fair?

Zack: YES! I WON! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO THROW A HALLOWEEN PARTY!

Lazard: No, Zack. I mean, does my selection process sound just?

• A chorus of agreements echo throughout the room.

Lazard: Good. And the winner is *he sticks his hand in the bowl, pulls out a name, then sighs* Fair.

Zack: Yes, Director! We agreed that it's a fair process!

Lazard: No. Zack Fair, you won.

Zack: YEEEESSSSSSS!!

• A chorus of no's and groans sweep the room.

Zack: Don't worry, guys! I'll do my very best! You'll see! This is gonna be the best Halloween party ever. *he interlocks his fingers evilly* and I have just the tool to make it fun...

• The day of the Halloween party arrives. To everyone's surprise, the party's rather ordinary. There's good music playing, Halloween decorations everywhere, flashing lights, fog and candy bowls stationed everywhere.

• Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal step off the elevator. Sephiroth is dressed like a grim reaper with Masamune fashioned as a scythe, Angeal is a zombie, and Genesis is a queen? king of hearts.

Angeal: Huh. Look at that. No one who knows Zack personally would've ever guessed he would be responsible enough to pull this off.

• Angeal snatches a candy bowl from Sephiroth's hands.

Genesis: I know, right? It almost makes you feel bad for underestimating him.

• Kunsel (dressed like robocop) and Roche (hippie) walk by carrying Skelesis Bonesodos.

Kunsel: Where are we hanging Skelesis?

Roche: Zack told us to hang him by the dancefloor.

Genesis: Son of a bitch.

• Angeal fails to notice Sephiroth nick an entire platter of spaghetti and meatball eyes from a passing server.

• Zack (dressed like a pirate) comes bouncing up to them

Zack: Arrg! Hey, guys! Sweet party, huh?

Angeal: Yeah, actually. I'm impressed. It's just a regular party without any crazy additives.

• Zack pulls out a Ouija board.

Zack: Or so you thought!

Genesis & Angeal: ZACK, NO.

Zack: Zack yes!

• Genesis snatches the ouija board away from him.

Genesis: I refuse to compliantly sit here and watch you damn us all by bothering the spirit realm. You have no idea how dangerous it is!

Angeal: Are you serious? Ghosts aren't real.

Zack & Genesis: Yes they are.

Angeal: No, they're not. And I'm not letting you mess around with anything paranormal. I don't want a repeat of last time.

• Collective flashback to the time Zack purchased an EVP recorder and refused to shower for a week because the ghost insinuated that it'd possess him in the bathroom.

Zack: Oh, please! That was ages ago. Besides, how cool would it be to have a real entity at my party!?

Genesis, sarcastically: So cool! One minute you're doing the Monster Mash and the next we're calling a priest!

Zack: I'm not gonna get possessed!

Angeal: You're not gonna summon anything! Ghosts and demons aren't real! Right, Sephiroth?

• Everyone turns to see Sephiroth working his way through another bowl of candy.

Angeal: Give me THAT!

Sephiroth, chewing: Honestly, it wouldn't hurt to try to use the ouija board.

Zack: Ha-ha! You rock, Seph! I knew you'd be on my side.

• Zack and Sephiroth high five.

Genesis: I give up. Summon the demon, damn us all to lifetime of paranormal prosecution. What do I care? It's not like anyone listens to me any—*he looks across the room*—HEY! KUNSEL! STOP PLAYING CATCH WITH SKELESIS BONESODOS! YOU'RE GOING TO BREAK HIS HIP!

• Zack leads the four of them to a vacant office room. They sit down in a circle on the floor and sets up the Ouija board in the middle of them.

Angeal: This is the stupidest thing I've ever done.

Sephiroth: Don't say that. I would argue that purchasing that questionable, over-priced plant from that man in the slums that turned out to be plastic was the stupidest thing you've ever done.

• They all place their fingers on the planchette and slide it around three times.

Genesis: We're going to die.

Zack: Shhh! Oh great spirits that reside in the Shinra HQ! Make yourselves known...please—pretty please? I really want a party ghost!

Sephiroth: Do you gentlemen think a person's soul can become trapped within the sword that kills them? I often hear Masamune whisper to me in the middle of the night.

Angeal: And you mention that NOW?

Genesis: Ho-ho! I thought you didn't believe in ghosts!

Angeal: I don't. I believe in Sephiroth inevitably succumbing to psychosis due to years of trauma.

Zack: Guys! Shhh! You're gonna distract the—

*The planchette moves on its own*

*Everyone screams*

Angeal: WHO DID THAT? WHICH ONE OF YOU MOVED IT?

Genesis: IT WASN'T ME!

Zack: IT WAS THE GHOST!

Sephiroth: Fascinating. Zack's Ouija board has proven to be a reliable tool for demonic communication.

Genesis: I wanna leave! I'm not playing with this stuff!

Angeal: You moved it, didn't you, Genesis? You wanted to scare me and be right about the paranormal.

Genesis: Shut up! I have my limits too, you know!

Zack: Guys! Shhh! Let me talk to it!

Zack: Dear Mr. Ghost..... Or should I say Mrs. Ghost? Ms. Ghost? Wait, what if the ghost is gender neutral?

Angeal: Ghosts aren't real!

*The planchette moves again, this time right on the letter G. Everyone screams and starts panicking*

Sephiroth: Is that real enough for you?

Genesis: It's spelling something out!

Angeal: Shut up! Look!

*The planchette continues to move until it spells out GET OUT*

Genesis: YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE!

*He gets up and runs out the door screaming. Zack and Angeal follow him, also screaming. They leave Sephiroth alone at the table, snickering with his fingers still on the planchette*

Sephiroth: Suckers.

*He pulls out a jumbo bag of Halloween candy and starts eating*

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #final fantasy vii #final fantasy #angeal hewley #ff7r #zack fair #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy 7 crisis core #ff7cc #storytime #soldier halloween

69 notes · View notes

slightlyhopefulromantic · 2 months

Text

been thinking about doing a class swap for a week or so, but i couldnt think of anything for prudence - until party fowl, of course, where oxventure gave an alternative class to me XD i might come back to these and do lines and color, but for now, just some sketches :]

some extra rambling under the cut about my thought process for all of these:

corazón was a pretty easy choice, considering he's already in a band and loves to charisma his way out of things, haha. he's a little less flashy than canon corazón since being a bard gets him plenty of attention as is LOL so he dresses more plainly. he puts up a display of being very cheerful and a friend to all, but this is very much a display - he still is corazón, with all of his brooding and jealousy, which led to him getting the rest of his pirate crew cursed, of course. though he was not initially captain of the joyful damnation, he took control of it after the incident of the cursehole, and is slightly prone to going on rants about "oh, they never took old CORAZÓN seriously, but see who isn't cursed now!" (<- was the one who got them cursed)

prudence was still raised by cyrus the hermit, but when she decided to follow cthulhu instead of zargon, she left behind the life of a warlock entirely. she still follows cthulhu, hence the evil-looking octopus tattoo on her shoulder, but this is purely a religious thing and does not grant her power. she's path of the beast because of course she is, she's a werebear. she carries an axe. she does not use said axe when she can just claw wildly or whip her tail around, but she definitely carries it!

dob was my favorite to draw. he's a pretty boy :] he has the most different backstory - he still got rabies, but an archfey took pity on him after suzette left to find a cure and gifted him with a fruit from feywilds to cure him. he spent some time in the feywilds as he recovered and was only returned to geth quite a few years later, and promptly set off on a quest to find his lost sister. this was, of course, a way for the fey to lay claim over him and now he's in a deal that greatly hinders his life, but he likes looking on the bright side of things! everyone thinks he smells lovely and comforting and he doesn't even have to wash himself for it to happen! awesome!

egbert is incredibly similar to canon. he has a big shield, hits people with his mace, and he's the religion guy (does not do anything with this). when he left the noble order of le dragon d'or, he was called to follow la vache mauve and was bidden to swap his class to cleric. he is not exceptionally good at the healing side of being cleric, but luckily he's light domain, so he can just blast people with all sorts of fire and radiant spells

merilwen was probably the hardest for me to sort out, since she is so based in being a druid and going with ranger seemed too easy (and also was already given to dob, lol). the vision of her riding on a bear took over though, so i went for cavalier so she could have advantage with mounted combat! i imagine that she would very rarely get to do this, but she loves that she has the ability to, and she definitely has an unnecessarily high animal handling score

#oxventure #corazón de ballena #prudence the tiefling warlock #dob the half-orc bard #egbert the careless #merilwen the wood elf druid #except you know. three of those people are Not those classes XD

25 notes · View notes

mi-rae07 · 11 months

Note

this was just a random idea for a fic where like pirate seonghwa’s s/o got kidnapped because she ran away after their argument so the s/o was expecting for seonghwa to woo her after being rescued but instead accidentally called her a burden or smth until she finally asks to break up bcs she was sick of it which brought back seonghwa’s consciousness abt the situation 😩🧎🏻‍♀️

Park Seonghwa : Shatter Me

Pairing : Park Seonghwa (Ateez) and named character (Yoon Serena)

_____________

A/n : This request was so much fun, really.

______________

Seonghwa : do you have fun causing trouble for me every fucking day of the week, princess?

Serena sat against the chair with a nonchalant look, not bothering to even look at seonghwa who was fuming in anger at what she had done.

Seonghwa : serena. I've told you, a million fucking times, that I need you to go our way. You cannot keep doing things as you like, this isn't your palace!

Serena : so what, you want me to turn into some sort of a pirate with you guys? Looting innocent people-

Seonghwa : they're rich people.

Serena : fine! Rich, innocent people.

Seonghwa : you think any rich merchant here is innocent? Money comes at a price, and that money these "innocent people" of yours have, they've looted poor peasants for it. Taxes, rents, feudal charges, you name it.

Serena : seonghwa-

Seonghwa : but of course! You wouldn't know any of what the normal people go through, would you? You were born into a royal family, lived in that palace for years surrounded by everything that you wanted and needed. Your entire life's been bubble-wrapped for you.

Serena stood up from her chair, walking closer to seonghwa as she said

Serena : yeah, because that's totally why I left all of those for you, my title, my riches, my entire life! I left everything for you, park seonghwa.

Seonghwa : and? Are you saying you're not having a comfortable life here in this ship, then? While my entire crew goes out and fights battles, looting money for so much as being able to afford simple food, you sit here idle, trying on your new dresses and playing princess with it. And even worse, you steal the money left on this ship to go buy your new dresses in order to feed that same dumb, stupid fantasy of yours!

Serena : is that your problem? Money?

Seonghwa : oh darling, I have so much more problems, but this is one of the many other problems that you cause me to worry about.

Serena stared at seonghwa before stepping away from him, leaning down and taking her shoes off of her feet, the one she usually never took off. She threw them at seonghwa, making it hit his chest before falling on the wooden floor with a thud.

Serena : sell these and you'll get half of your money back. And as for the other half, I'll manage.

Serena was about to move past seonghwa when he held her arm, looking straight into her eyes as he asked

Seonghwa : manage how?

Serena : you do not need to know. You said money was the problem, and I said I'll get it for you.

Serena pulled her arm away from his grip, looking away from seonghwa as she whispered

Serena : you're a pirate, aren't you. Isn't this how you do a proper trade?

___________________________

Serena had decided to sleep in a room separate from seonghwa today. The reason partly being her argument with seonghwa, and partly because she needed to do what she said she would. Find money.

And so when serena was sure everyone on the ship had slept, she got out from her bed and walked to the cupboard in her room, pulling out a cloak with a hoodie on it. She soon slipped out of her room, walking up to the end of the ship while looking around to make sure no one was around. And she was right, no one really was around. Serena put her hoodie on before jumping out of the ship and onto land, her bare feet coming in contact with the watery sand of the beach seonghwa's ship had been anchored on. It was a beach that had been abandoned because of how dangerous the tides were, hence it was the perfect spot for seonghwa and his crew to rest and reload their ship before beginning a new voyage.

Serena knew this place, because it was her place, her kingdom. It was why she had gone out in the morning while seonghwa and his crew had gone out to loot a house, because she had wanted to see her kingdom one last time before leaving. And then she had seen a good pair of shoes that reminded her of the ones her mother had once bought for her when she was a child, and so serena bought it. Which was what led to the fight with seonghwa in the first place. But he was right, she was in the wrong. And she knew just how to fix it.

Serena finally reached the night market, keeping her head down while walking to a stall she knew very well. It gave money for selling jewellery, which was exactly what serena had needed right now.

And once she was finally there, she pulled out the bracelet from her pocket, banging it on the table. The shopkeeper looked at her, his eyes widening at the sight of the bracelet

??? : you wish to sell, this?

Serena : yes. And I expect a 20,000 for it.

??? : you want it right now, then?

Serena : yes.

The shopkeeper nodded and walked further inside the shop, making serena sigh as she looked back at the bracelet on the table next to her. This was one of the only things serena had taken with her when she left the palace, her royal bracelet. But now she had to sell it, and she blamed herself for it.

Serena yelped as she felt someone cover her mouth from behind, making her eyes widen. Oh no, seonghwa was going to kill her for this. Serena tried biting onto the hand, but realized that it was gloved. There was no way out for her now.

And soon enough serena felt herself start to lose consciousness from the medicine that was most definitely poured into the gloves, the world growing dark behind her eyes as she finally shut them.

____________________________

San : captain! Seonghwa, wake up!

Seonghwa groaned, opening his eyes as it landed on a panting san who seemed to be covered in sweat. Seonghwa sat up, looking at san with confused sleepy eyes.

Seonghwa : what is it, san-ah?

San : serena! She's gone.

That was all it had taken for seonghwa to rush out of his room, running into serena's room that seemed to be filled with his other crew members. Seonghwa looked around as he asked

Seonghwa : when did you find her gone?

Yeosang : when I woke up, which was 15 minutes ago.

Hongjoong : do you have any idea where she went, hwa?

"As for the other half of the money, I'll manage"

Seonghwa quickly walked up to serena's cupboard, throwing it open as he scanned inside. He let out a scoff as he realized that her bracelet was gone.

Seonghwa : I think I do.

___________________________

Wooyoung : are you worried about her?

Seonghwa : no, she's always been a brat.

Yes, because she was the love of his life. He didn't know how to live without her, and he couldn't even imagine losing her. Seonghwa was scared to the core, because if serena had actually sold that bracelet of hers and got the money, she would've returned to the ship by now. But she hadn't. which only meant one thing, she was kidnapped. And that worried seonghwa. But he was also furious, both towards serena and to the people who had kidnapped her. He was going to kill the latter half, actually murder.

Mingi : well I am.

Seonghwa's eyes landed on a store that read "Exchange stall", knowing this was it. Serena had told seonghwa about this place before, about how this was the one store where she would do all the illegal things, even when she was a princess. This would definitely be where serena had gone.

Seonghwa walked up to the store, wooyoung and mingi by his side.

Seonghwa : are you the shopkeeper?

??? : as you can see. What do you have for exchange?

Seonghwa eyed around the store, knowing there was something uncanny about this place straight away. He needed to push further.

Seonghwa : I do have something, but I would rather we discussed this inside the store. It's quite personal.

The shopkeeper nodded. Wooyoung leaned towards mingi with a smile as he whispered

Wooyoung : how stupid can one be?

Mingi : tell me about it.

Soon seonghwa, wooyoung and mingi were all inside the store with the shopkeeper, who was motioning them to sit on a sofa that was laid out. Seonghwa looked around the room with careful eyes, looking out for the bracelet. It was nowhere to be found, of course.

And so seonghwa sat down on the sofa, looking straight at the shopkeeper as he pulled out a stash of gold coins from his pocket, putting it right on the table in front of him. The shopkeeper looked at it with large eyes, shocked.

Seonghwa : we wish to do something different. Money, for the royal bracelet.

The shopkeeper quickly looked up at seonghwa at the mention of the bracelet before saying

Shopkeeper : who said I have the princess' royal bracelet.

He had just dug his own grave.

Seonghwa : I hear no denial.

Wooyoung stepped forward and caught the shopkeeper by his hand, mingi holding onto the other as the shopkeeper screamed. But seonghwa quickly kept his hand against the shopkeeper's mouth, leaning down before putting his hand into the shopkeeper's pocket. The shopkeeper squirmed, trying to get out of there. But wooyoung's and mingi's grip were strong on him, there was no way out anymore.

Seonghwa pulled out the bracelet from the pocket as he stared at it, fury rising in him as seonghwa glared at the man in front of him.

Seonghwa : where is she?

Shopkeeper : I do not know.

Seonghwa punched the man right in the face, making him cough up blood as he groaned in pain.

Seonghwa : I will not ask again, you bastard. Where, is my princess?

_____________________

Serena : are you seriously going to hold me ransom?

??? : you're crown princess, I'm sure your parents will pay quite the big price for you.

Serena : are you stupid? I left my parents, and the court. My brother, is crown prince now. No one's going to give anything for me after I disgraced my entire family.

??? : really. Wanna test that out, my lady?

Serena sighed and sat back against the chair, the ropes around her already starting to cut through her skin. She had no idea where she was, she's been in this room since forever and the only person she's seen is this man in front of her, who was also the one who kidnapped her that night in the market.

At least she was fed regularly.

Serena : please. If it's money you want-

??? : you can give it to me?

Serena : just let me go.

??? : or what? You'll kill me.

Serena : no. but someone else will and that is not going to be pretty at all.

??? : who, park seonghwa?

Serena paused, confusion filling her as she asked

??? : you know him?

The man chuckled, leaning back against his chair as he said

??? : you think I kidnapped you only because you're a princess, then? I know you're his, and I know the things he could do to save you.

Serena : really. So if my parents disagree to give you the ransom, you're just going to blackmail seonghwa instead?

??? : you're quite smart for a lady.

Serena : don't sputter bullshit, sir. I've met many ladies who have much more thinking capabilities than you do and ever will.

The man stood up, walking up to serena before grabbing her by the hair as he said

??? : one more word, and they'll have to pay ransom for your dead body.

Serena : try me.

??? : are you threatening me?

Serena : aren't you going to kill me anyway?

??? : such a mouth for some princess. If anything, I expected you to already have started crying by now.

Except serena knew seonghwa would find her, it was only a matter of time. And she needed to stall this man, crying wasn't going to help her in there.

??? : well-

The man cut himself off as a scream was heard from outside, followed by footsteps. Serena smiled, looking up at the man as she whispered

Serena : oops.

The door to the room was kicked open, the door breaking apart as it fell on the ground with a thud. Seonghwa entered the room, the severed head of the shopkeeper held by his hair in seonghwa's hand. Seonghwa lifted the head up to his face with raised eyebrows, looking at the man next to serena as he said

Seonghwa : guess whose head is also going to be added to my treasury.

________________________

Serena : is this how you treat your wounded lady, hwa?

Seonghwa didn’t seem to be playing along with serena's jokes. He was just dragging her further into his ship, a cold look on his face. The fight had been quite brutal, serena had seen it for herself. She had a few wounds herself, but seonghwa's and his crew's were worse. And it was all because of her. The man was right, seonghwa could do anything for her.

Serena : has it been more than a day since I…left?

Seonghwa : it's been four.

Serena's eyes widened at that, not having realized it. She had been asleep for a long time, she supposed.

Serena : were you worried for me?

Seonghwa pushed her into their room in the ship, shutting the door behind him as he said

Seonghwa : no. I was not.

Serena's lips turned into a small pout, trying to come closer to seonghwa as she said

Serena : but you came to save me.

Serena was about to touch seonghwa's hair when he pushed her away, confusing serena. Why wasn't he happy to see her?

Seonghwa : are you kidding me, serena? If you wanted to make money by selling yourself, you should've just told me. I could've sold you to someone myself.

Serena : seonghwa.

Seonghwa : what? What is it? What more do you want from me, serena!

Serena looked away, muttering under her breath

Serena : you're angry with me.

Seonghwa : do you know what you've done? Do you have any idea, the troubles you've caused?

Serena opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by seonghwa tearing his shirt apart, his wounds coming to her sight. Serena gasped, her eyes running along the bandages that were wrapped around a few day-old wounds and fresh ones left open all over his upper body.

Serena : no. you're hurt.

Serena was about to come closer to seonghwa when he said

Seonghwa : DO NOT COME CLOSER TO ME!

Serena flinched at that, stepping back in part fear. Seonghwa let out a breath, looking away as he said

Seonghwa : do you know the amount of wounds that you have caused to my other crew, serena? Within the span of 4 fucking days, we have had to run around this entire kingdom of yours, threatening and begging people to tell us where you might have been.

Serena : I'm sorry.

Seonghwa : NO YOUR SORRY DOESN'T FUCKING CUT IT! Because if it weren't for you, if I hadn't fucking taken you in, none of this would've been required.

Serena stared at seonghwa with teary eyes as he scoffed and said

Seonghwa : I've wasted so much on you. So much time, money, love. You've just become a burden to my crew and I now, serena.

Serena looked away from seonghwa, tears falling down her eyes as she whispered

Serena : a burden.

Seonghwa looked up at that, his eyes softening at the sight of her tears.

Serena : then let me go.

Seonghwa : what?

Seonghwa blinked his eyes as serena walked past him towards the door, throwing it open as she stepped out of the room. Seonghwa quickly followed her as he asked

Seonghwa : what the hell are you doing?

Serena : leaving. Letting you go of your burdens.

Seonghwa stepped forward, holding serena's arm as he said

Seonghwa : serena what the fuck? You can't just step out like that.

Serena : why! If I want to leave then just let me go!

Seonghwa : and? Where the hell are you going to go, huh?

Serena : to…to the palace.

Seonghwa : so you can get yourself executed? Serena, you aren't crown princess anymore. You ran away from that palace, you think they will accept you back with open arms now?

Serena : THEN JUST LET ME GET EXECUTED!

Serena shook seonghwa's hand off her, moving past him in order to step towards the exit. But seonghwa stepped in front of her again, shaking his head.

Seonghwa : after all that I had to do to get you back? You're just going to put yourself in danger again?

Serena : well you don’t have to save me this time, seonghwa. This isn't on you, it's on me.

Seonghwa : EXCEPT IT ISN'T! EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS ON ME BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

Serena froze, staring at seonghwa as he let out an exasperated breath, cupping serena's cheek in his hand.

Seonghwa : what is wrong with you! Do you not understand? Yes, you are a burden. Yes, you bring me and my crew trouble but you also…you also give us happiness. You give us all a meaning, you give me a life, serena.

Serena : I-

Seonghwa : no! you cannot leave now. It will shatter me, princess. Please, don't leave me.

Serena stared at seonghwa who was now breathing heavily, tears in his eyes. Seonghwa connected his forehead with hers, closing his eyes as he whispered

Seonghwa : I'm yours, my life, my money, my everything…it's all yours. If you die, I die with you.

Serena sniffled, holding seonghwa's arm as she whispered

Serena : I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, hwa.

Seonghwa shook his head.

Seonghwa : I don't care anymore, please just don't leave me. You can have all the money that you want-

Serena : no, no no. I don't…I don't care about any of that, seonghwa. I just, I want to be able to make you happy. And I've been taught that if…if I wear pretty dresses and shoes, and make myself beautiful, that would be the only way to make a man happy. So I thought-

Seonghwa : no. no princess, you're beautiful even if you're wearing a farmer's dress. I don't care if you're covered in mud, or drenched in water, or…or whatever. You're beautiful however you are, I love you. You do not have to be doing anything else except being healthy and happy for me.

Serena smiled, opening her eyes as she looked at the wounds on seonghwa's chest

Serena : can I touch you?

Seonghwa : god, you don't even have to ask, princess. You can do whatever you want to me.

Serena chuckled, running her hand along his wounds lightly as she whispered

Serena : does it hurt a lot?

Seonghwa : I've had worse.

Serena : and…the rest of the crew?

Seonghwa : they'll be fine too, as long as you stay.

Serena : I'll stay. I'll stay as long as you like because you mean the world to me too, hwa. I love you more than you could imagine.

Seonghwa pulled back, taking the bracelet out of his pocket as serena gasped

Serena : you took it back.

Seonghwa : it's yours, as it always will be.

Seonghwa took serena's hand and put the bracelet around it before kissing her hand.

Serena : thank you.

Seonghwa smiled, leaning forward and capturing her lips in his. Serena's arms wrapped itself around his neck, pulling him closer to her as she smiled into the kiss.

Seonghwa : my princess.

Serena : all yours.

Jongho : YAH! CAN YOU JUST NOT DO THAT IN FRONT OF OUR EYES, GOD!

Serena pulled back with a laugh, making seonghwa smile. Serena looked up at the floor just above them, the entire crew watching seonghwa and serena with a smile.

Serena : have you been watching us the entire time?

Yunho : we need our drama too.

Serena smiled, motioning them to come down. And they all did, a smile on their faces as they crushed seonghwa and serena into a hug.

Seonghwa : oh god, ya'all need to bath sometime.

Hongjoong : shut the fuck up, captain, we're having a moment.

Seonghwa smiled as he patted their heads, feeling complete. This was all he had ever wanted, and now he had it. His family.

Serena : thank you, for having rescued me with all that trouble.

Wooyoung : what thank you. We would've done that any day, any time.

San : you're our captain's entire world, and a part of our family, we can't let that fall away. And! You make nice apple pies.

Yeosang : aish! What's wrong with this kid.

San : kid?! I'm 23 years old!

Serena smiled at all of them, feeling much happier than she ever did in any palace of hers.

Serena : I'll make all the apple pies in the world for all of you.

___________________________

#ateez angst #ateez fluff #kpop angst #kpop ff #kpop fluff #ateez ff #angst #ateez #fluff #ff #park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines

86 notes · View notes