#that reason tangerine allows it

[sebsbarnes]

lover girl || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: tangerine saves you from an awful date, cliche realizing feelings afterwards

warnings: mentions of killing, language, talks of insecurities

word count: 2k+ ; angst, comfort, fluff-ish

tangerine masterlist

"i have a date," you excitedly told the twins.

"ain't this the third one this month?" tangerine asked popping grapes in his mouth. lemon knocked him on the head in disapproval. tangerine whipped his head around, glaring at lemon as if he was the one in the wrong.

you simply rolled your eyes, "i feel good about this one."

lemon and tangerine both knew you wanted to be loved more than anything else. you constantly said that was the one thing missing in your life. you loved your job, your family, your friends, your hobbies but you just wanted someone to share all the good with. which is why you made it your mission in between jobs to go on as many dates as possible. the twins understood the desire to find someone, they wanted it too, but they held their hearts close to their chests whereas you did not.

tangerine often ranted, to a knowing lemon, how you needed to be more careful for a plethora of valid and invalid reasons. it was dangerous dating as an assassin, your cover could be blown easily, or it could be a set up. and then, there were the selfish reasons that tangerine didn't even realize were selfish. you sometimes would opt out of jobs to meet someone you were interested in or you would cancel premade plans with the twins to see someone. and this irked him. what do you mean tangerine didn't have his favorite sidekick with him on missions? what do you mean you skipped the weekly brunch you and the twins had? all lemon could do was console a jealous and unwilling to listen tangerine.

you lived in the apartment next to the twins and had made your way back over to get ready. the guy you were meeting was handsome and a total gentlemen over text and you were feeling giddy. you played dress up for hours. perfectly styling your hair, coating your skin, eyes, and lips with makeup. the dress was the showstopper. it was a fitted red satin dress that you paired with black heels. your date told you he made reservations for a steakhouse which truthfully you weren't too keen on, but it allowed you to dress up which you never did with your job.

lemon had offered to take you to the restaurant since you didn't want the man knowing where you lived. tangerine stayed back as lemon exited the front door but couldn't resist looking through the window. it was only a glimpse, but he saw the lowcut back of your dress and your shiny hair and he bubbled with jealousy.

your date was waiting outside the doors for you chatting away to the valet girl, a little too closely for your taste. his body leaned onto the podium, head cocked to the side as if he was mesmerized by her and that should've been the first red flag. he greeted you with a hug that you returned.

"i am starving," he basically yelled, "i wish you said you could do dinner earlier."

"oh i'm sorry," you said blinking rapidly feeling guilty.

"yeah it's chill, i'm ready for a beer," he waved off, opening the glass door but letting it fall on you. your eyebrows knotted together. did he just drop the door on me? you were baffled but chuckled awkwardly grabbing the glass door, smiling at the older couple who witness the whole thing.

the tension in your body made you rigid. you felt uneasy across from the man who was obnoxious and blatantly checking out the waitress. he had already finished his third pint and you hadn't even ordered entrees yet. you were poking absentmindedly at the salad, grimacing at him.

"so what's you job again?" all you could see was the food in his mouth and you dropped your fork.

"i work at a catering company," you lied. it was your go to fake profession as it could excuse your bizarre working hours and absence from town.

he patted his mouth with his napkin, "oh so you don't make such money don'ya?"

"excuse me?" you were completely and utterly flabbergasted at the remark. though, he seemed unfazed and gestured towards your salad you had now abandoned. you were disgusted by everything and pushed the plate towards him.

"i'm kind of a hot shot at work," he bragged and you were motionless. any further movement looked robotic meanwhile your douche of a date was leaned far back in the chair, his beer in his hand, and manspreading to the point his feet could trip someone.

the twitch of your eye was becoming more dramatic as he droned on. was it not obvious that you were paying zero attention to the man before you? the only thoughts circling your head besides how he's a douche is the fact you could easily take the knife out of your purse. with ease it would slip through the fabric and you'd lean forward dragging it across the man's adam's apple and watch the blood trickle down onto his ugly polo shirt.

"pretty impressive, right?" the dull man asked. he had been on a ten-minute rant on how he was promoted within a month of working at his company because he stole a coworkers idea but it was okay because 'well the boss hates her so i knew he would approve the idea if i brought it to him'.

"mmm, riveting," you mocked, swirling the red wine in the glass.

"i'm gunna go take a whizz," he pointed, throwing his napkin onto the table. your mouth slacked open at his actions.

'im begging you to pick me up' you texted frantically.

'you haven't even been there long what's wrong?'

'either you tell me yes or i slice this man's throat open'

'on my way.'

your fingers drummed on the white tablecloth, chin perched on your fist waiting for the clown of a man to return. his figure approached from the bathroom and just when you thought you couldn't be more turned off by this man he shoved his hand down his pants adjusting himself. in front of the whole restaurant.

when he sat down you slowly stood up placing your purse on your shoulder, "look, i'm feeling a bit unwell so i'm going to head home. and this was awful," you muttered the last part under your breath.

"well aren't you going to pay?" he asked dumbfounded.

you couldn't stop the guffaw that left your mouth, "good one, prick."

you sauntered outside waiting for tangerine. the cold air nipped at your skin and for some reason tears started to line your eyes. they closed and to calm yourself you let out a shaky breath through your nose, though this did nothing for your watery eyes. tangerine's head lights moved slowly beside you and you ripped the door open before the car came to a complete stop.

"well don't ya look fuckin' joyous," he joked, his eyebrow high on his face.

you huffed, finding your red dress constricting and pulling at it to let your skin breathe.

"not in the fuckin' mood for jokes tangerine," you hissed. you leaned back against the headrest eyes closed trying to calm yourself from the swirling thoughts on why you can't find someone good. tangerine went quiet, silently observing your resting state, throat bobbing up and down. he sighed before slowly pulling away. the ride was silent for a few minutes before you felt the rant bubbling up in your body and your lid was about to explode.

"he shut the door in my face!" you laughed incredulously, "he only talked about himself. god he wouldn't shut up! he works in tech so he thinks he is hot shit."

tangerine laughed, "definitely shit."

"then he had the audacity to say i make no money. me! tan, we make so much money that man would be ashamed of his check if he saw ours. he gawked at every single lady in the building and i know i shouldn't care about anything that prick thinks but he must think i'm ugly. i worked so hard to look pretty tonight! he ate my salad, granted i had two bites but he took my food? and then. then he touched himself! in the restaurant!"

tangerine's foot slammed on the break in shock causing your bodies to lurch forward and he immediately stuck his hand in front of your body to not fall into the dashboard, "sorry i didn't mean to do that."

"you're okay."

tangerine didn't really know how to respond. his brain was reeling of ways he could kill the man for hurting your feelings. if he could he'd kill every asshole you went on a date with. you don't deserve to be treated poorly and it ached at tangerine's soul every time you'd come to their apartment after a date sighing in disappointment when it didn't work out. lemon would be the one to comfort you as tangerine stayed quiet nodding as you ranted but silently raging.

tangerine turned off the main road, a destination in mind that wasn't the apartments. your head swiveled towards him in confusion and he glanced out of the corner of his eye, an amused smirk on his face. he paralleled parked and turn the engine off.

"what...?"

he smiled, "c'mon."

you slowly opened the door skeptically looking at tangerine.

"we can't waste a good outfit now can we love. plus, you need to eat." tangerine grinned sticking his elbow out for you. baffled, you wrapped your arm around his staring up at your favorite speakeasy.

arm in arm you two entered the building and he didn't drop the door on you. he pulled out the chair to the high top allowing you to sit. tangerine immediately ordered your usual drink and appetizer. he ran a hand through his curls giving you a smile.

"why are you doing this?"

he paused briefly, "i see you every week get treated like royal shit love. truly i don' know why any of these pricks, first of all, think they have a real shot with ya nor do i know why they'd treat someone like you so poorly. i know i don't do the mushy stuff, but i don't like seeing you upset. it's not a good feeling and i know it's not for you either. you think their actions are a reflection of yourself but it's not. their dicks okay? so you can't keep thinking you're the problem 'right? you're hardworking, you're smart, you're kind, caring, loyal, honest, funny, beautiful and these pricks deserve none of that. not from anyone and especially not from you. your heart is too good for most people."

to say you were shocked in this moment was an understatement. never in your years of knowing tangerine had he spoken so highly and with compassion about someone other than lemon. your heart ached at the sentiment and you knew every word was true. you were easy to give your heart away to be loved and you took the failures as your fault, a reflection of you like tangerine said. deep down you knew it not to be true but the insecurities loomed and swallowed your confidence like a storm. you also knew deep down that's why you do date shitty men sometimes because you think it's what you deserve. tangerine knew this too and he was here stepping up now to help you in stopping the cycle.

"tan, wow i-," you stumbled over your words, once again teary eyed, "you see right through me don't you." your hand snaked over to his, softly wrapping your hand around his palm.

"i care about you, i do. i want you to protect your heart just as much as i want to," he confessed placing a soft kiss to your hand.

a few beats had passed and the server walked over placing the dishes around your entangled hands, "you're a beautiful couple," the young girl spoke before leaving.

your's and tangerine's cheeks went pink. your eyes fluttered down to look at his hand in yours, "we would be, right?"

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Massage 1/3 (Buggy x Reader)

Art by Capitanpoops!

A/N: More love for our beloved fool! This one with a dash of idiots in love and a heaping scoop of yearning. The next half of this installment is mostly done as wel,l but I needed to get this out and I think it'll be digested better in these chunks. Gotta pace yourself on the clown content (Do as I say and not as I do 💀) I trimmed it down to the necessary events and the important (read: indulgent) interactions with Buggy and she still somehow got long whoopsy

Word Count: ~4.4k

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms), brief suggestive allusions, reader is oblivious and Buggy is delusional, Buggy continues his inner married life fantasy world, you feed him tangerines and he’s kind of a freak about it 💀

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~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

You weren’t there.

Why weren’t you there? 

Buggy found himself alone in sheets, which barely held the remnants of body heat. Your body heat; the only proof you left behind of your night together. Or was he imagining it? Wishing it into existence so hard that his brain took pity on him and let him feel warmth that wasn't truly there. He turned his face further into the hammock, deeper into the bedding, seeking more pieces of you. All he was able to get was some of your elegant smell from a lukewarm pillow and it ached. It ached that he was here begging for scraps of you and all he got were vestiges of your presence.

He tried to comfort himself with the memory of your cheek on his head and your hands in his hair and your skin under his lips. That sweet, blissful second of contact only made his chest feel tighter wherever it was leagues away. It may as well have joined him, burrowed in your hammock, with how potent the sensation felt. He felt bitter that you would be so kind and then leave him as an afterthought. Was it a trick after all? Buggy found himself switching back and forth between distrusting your intentions and accepting them as genuine. It would've taken a pro for all of that to be an act, but then again he didn’t really know you. You could’ve had a history in intel gathering. Or honeypotting. On top of that, what reason could you have to treat him so tenderly? Not only was he an enemy of your crew, he was already assisting you all. Beyond even that, you were, well, you.

Buggy hadn’t had much time to watch you in Orange Town, as he had simply put you away with the other two for Cabaji to handle. Now that he was diminished to a head, though, the only thing he could do was watch. And talk. He made sure to do both in abundance, half for boredom and half to piss off your crewmates. He especially liked messing with the skittish one. 

You, however, he would mostly watch. Yeah, he couldn’t keep his big trap shut, but it was more to fill silence if he felt uncomfortable or to prod you mildly to test your reaction and learn more about you. He had learned a lot. Your interests were broad but not without depth, and they spanned so many disconnected topics that it spoke to an inherent love of learning and engaging. You liked to play back with those around you, making them feel included. You were kind; understanding and nurturing were clearly in your nature with how you’d tend to others. You always noticed and cared for the details of a person - how they embody their feelings, how they like to be cared for, pieces of their tasks that could be eased, habits that kept them from caring for themselves, any act or item that made them smile. He saw it as so diametrically opposed to the destructive path he left behind him. Why would you bother yourself with tending to him and his messes?

His thoughts made the physical distance between you two feel even greater. Buggy allowed himself the comfort of snuggling fully into your pillow and breathing deep the scent of vanilla and spice from the cushion and his wild hair. He had begun to slip back into sleep when gentle fingers brushed his hair back across his temple, pulling a small gasp from him.

“Bugs?” you whispered, checking if he was awake or needed more prompting. You caught his eye and were distracted by the way his lashes brushed your pillowcase with each blink.

“Oh so you decided to come back,” Buggy grumbled into the bedding.

“Of course I did,” you soothed. You didn’t want him to start out the day on a bad note, but you had duties to take care of around the ship. “I wanted to let you get some rest. I doubt you were able to get much in a sack or a barrel.”

Buggy took in the way you grimaced at the thought and some of the ache in his chest lessened. You helped him turn over before placing your hands on his cheeks. Finally, the warmth on his skin was fresh.

“C’mon, let’s get you some breakfast,” you chirped. Buggy didn’t care if he imagined how fond the shine in your eyes was.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“You just had to poke the bear huh?” you admonished. You nudged the door to Nojiko’s hut closed with your foot and looked down at Buggy’s face in your hands. You didn’t think you’d be seeing him gagged and glaring again, especially so soon. At least this time he was more angry at the situation than being purely upset with you. Meeting his eyes with a sympathetic smile, you settled the both of you to sit on the edge of the deck. 

“Can’t say I blame you, though,” you said, pulling the tangerine out of Buggy’s mouth, placing it higher on your legs than where he rested. He chased it with some choice curses and moved his jaw around to rid himself of the stretched discomfort. You helped him by rubbing your thumbs into the muscles above the sharp angle of his jaw. With each circling motion, some of his bitterness followed the tension out of his face. “They barely let me give you anything for breakfast, no lunch, and now you can’t have dinner? I dont…” you trailed off, looking for the right words. Coming up short you sighed and finished, “I don’t like it.”

“Join the club,” Buggy spat.

Your eyes fell to your hands, which now fiddled with the tangerine. “Well, we do have a little food.”

“I guess it’s better than nothing,” he relented, and you began peeling. While he mostly just looked grumpy, there was a despondency in the glaze of his eyes and the twitch of his lip. Your heart ached for him despite the fact that you knew at least some of this was his own doing. It was definitely his own mistakes that led his path to being held captive and at the whims of others, but you were really stuck on things like the lack of food. You decided you were probably too soft for piracy with the way his head being thrown around made you wince. Maybe you’d have to find out how to be a different kind of pirate. Like Luffy. A smile began to soften your face at the comfort that idea brought you. It felt right.

Meanwhile, Buggy’s mood was sullen at best, fueled by his distant howling stomach. The pretty smile decorating your face, however, began distracting him enough to start calming down. Focusing on how beautiful you looked, wearing a tender smile in the moonlight, he began to feel distant from you. You looked natural - like you belonged right here amongst quiet air, sleeping sky, and things that grow. He was a naturally disruptive force; he belonged here as an observer, an audience member, and not a part of the scene.

Buggy was broken from his musings when you offered him a piece of tangerine. He truly did wish for something more substantial, but he couldn’t deny that at the first bite all other thoughts stopped except the pungent flavor refreshing him. On the second, he nearly took your finger off when he lunged for more.

“Easy, easy,” you soothed, “I can always pick another one.”

He didn’t apologize but he did take the next few pieces more delicately. You’d give the segments to him in two bites so that it would draw the process out and hopefully make him feel a bit more sated. The next time he bit into a piece of tangerine, the juice burst back onto your fingers. After pushing the other half into his mouth, you brought your hand up to your mouth and sucked off the juice. The refreshingly bright flavor distracted you from the way Buggy stared at the action. You presented him with another slice, which he bit hard to make sure it would splash again. He wanted a repeat showing.

“You’re so messy,” you chastised. Again, your fingers were cleaned by lips and tongue. Again, Buggy was absolutely enraptured. Again, you did not notice.

This time when you fed him a piece, you put the whole thing in his mouth to avoid splashing. A new problem replaced the old one; Buggy’s lips closed against the tips of your fingers. Those fingers felt so soft on his lips and he promised himself to move slowly next time. Your mind kicked into gear when the way his lips pressed at you felt more like a caress - like a kiss - than an accidental brush. Your eyes snapped to his face to see what he was thinking, but his eyes were closed and his face relaxed and gave you absolutely nothing to go on. You wrote it off as taking time to savor fresh food after having been mostly starved and fed scraps. Even so, your hand was more hesitant this time.

Buggy kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth at the feeling of tangerine prodding his lips. It only made it halfway into his mouth this time. He chomped down creating a spray. You huffed but he didn’t care when the second half was given to him and he pushed forward to take it all and to taste the juice on your fingertips. He didn’t linger for fear of rejection but he couldn’t deny himself the chance to lick juice from your skin. Your fingers were soft and the tangerine was sweet and he was giddy that you’d shared a transferred kiss.

You had a lot more trouble explaining away the swipe of his tongue than the purse of his lips. The urge to ask him what the hell he was doing almost overcame you, but you were stopped by how peaceful he looked. You didn’t want to take that from him. Besides, the touch didn’t bother you. It was quite the opposite actually; you were immediately addicted to the buzzing sensation it shot from your fingertips through to your chest and stomach, where it stayed to flutter.

Buggy didn’t venture to be so bold through the remainder of the fruit, though your fingers received an almost-kiss with each piece. Your yearning to feel his lips with your own grew each time, pressing at your heart until each beat kicked back strongly. You take a handkerchief from your back pocket to wipe your hands and dab at his lips. Buggy was placid through the whole thing. You wanted to bask in that a bit longer, so you tried to think up a reason to stay outside. Placing your hands on the sides of his face with care, you tilted his face up to look directly at you.

“I wanna stay out in the fresh air; the hut’s still hot from cooking. Wanna stay with?” you asked. Buggy didn’t respond. Instead, he was eyeing you like you’d asked a trick question. “Of course you could always go back to the bag.”

“Out here.” That was much quicker.

“Good!” You were already placing him to the side to stand up and set up. You grabbed a cushion from a chair on the porch and placed it on the large rim in front of the porch’s support beam. After carefully picking Buggy back up, you settled into the surprisingly comfortable cushion and leaned back on the beam. Buggy was placed in your lap, tilted and facing out so that he could take in the bucolic scene with you. Neither of you spoke for the remainder of the night, even when you settled in for bed. It felt unnecessary to say anything to add to the atmosphere that had fallen around the two of you. There was more than enough filling it between the patterns of endless stars, moonlight on waxy leaves, and crisp breeze over earthen ground. The main reason for the silence, though, was that you already felt connected from the way that your body warmed the back of his head, the way his weight settled in your lap, and the way your fingers never stopped stroking his jaw, cheeks, and temple.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

The whole Arlong thing was going to shit. You were separated out with Usopp, trying desperately to get back to your crew and help with any remaining fishmen. Each pounding stride sent vibrations up your legs, rattling your bones and joints. Your ragged breaths and pumping arms helped carry you further from the smoldering corpse and closer to more enemy bodies, these ones still able to snap their teeth at you. You could distantly recognize that you were afraid, but there was no room for it to exist inside you with your heart pumping in every spec of your body.

Breaking your tunnel vision was a call of your name from behind you.

It echoed through your body and made you freeze because you knew that voice. In front of you, Usopp was staring confused over your shoulder. You were too nervous to turn and look with him. Your every muscle was gripped tight with indecision. His eyes moved to meet your wild look and the scrunch of his brow asked the question.

“Tell everyone thank you and I’m sorry.” The words were simple but the quaver in your voice carried all the meaning you had no time to speak out.

You wrenched yourself around, not even waiting to see Usopp’s nod, and began sprinting away from the weight of your decision.

Buggy’s heart was in his throat. At first it was fear that had it jackhammering, but then you turned and happy disbelief kept it pumping. Holy shit, you’re really running to him - literally running to him - hitting him like a freight train and yanking him with you. Even though he had watched you for every second of your charge toward him, it was a surprise when you got to him, so much so that when you grabbed him, he separated from the waist up. His legs had to rev like a wind-up toy to try and catch up. Your hand fisting tight around his wrist was edging on painful but he loved it because it was real and you were real and you really chose him.

~ ~ ~••• ✦✦✦•••~ ~ ~

When you close yourselves off in the inn room you feel like you can relax for the first time in a long while. There’s warm food in your bellies and a roof over your heads. The room was a fair price and any of the shabby touches just added to the charm. It felt like being tucked into the guest room of a distant relative; there was an air of home even though you knew none of the stories this place has seen. While you were taking your time to look around the room, Buggy made a beeline for the bed and toppled onto it with a theatrical groan. You gave him a minute to breathe before you decided to touch base on the run in at dinner.

“She’s definitely trying to use us,” you cautioned.

“Well the feeling’s mutual,” Buggy responded, slowly getting himself upright. You snorted.

“I guess you’re right. Just gotta keep on our toes; there’s been enough bullshit recently,” you said, plopping next to him on the bed. He ate up the way your arm pressed into his. He sat stone still, hoping that if he didn’t move then you’d never realize you were touching him and move away. Fuck, having his body back was euphoric with how he got to experience more of you and your touch, but it was also overwhelming. Normally, he’d have no trouble asserting himself or stealing into someone's personal space but this felt so different. Every move closer to you felt like crossing an ancient rope and plank bridge; he was swaying and unsteady and every new piece of wood may give to let him plunge away into a rabid river, far away from the safety at the other side. You felt how he froze up like a rabbit before a wolf and worried you’d said something wrong.

“I’ll keep like the daintiest of my dancers, Toni Twinkle-Toes,” he promised, trying to appear normal by giving you a cheeky look.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed. “Better swap out your clunky ass boots for some slippers.” You nudged his boot with your own and kept your leg pressed tight to his. You were proud of yourself for finding a casual way to feel more of him. 

“Got any on hand?” he asked after pausing just a touch too long.

“Nah, left my ballet get up on the ship.” You waved a hand to gesture at the bag you’d overstuffed between your run from Usopp and escape from Conomi Island. It was easy to convince your companion to go with you to gather your things. It was much harder to convince him that, no, you would not help him steal the whole ship.

“That's too bad,” he sighed. “I would’ve loved to see you in a tiny leotard, sweetcheeks.”

Buggy happily received your shove, though he still fell to his side, holding it like you’d broken him. Through laughter you said, “Well when you get me one, you better make sure it’s over the top and flashy.”

Oh no, he’s a goner. 

You stand up and walk to your bag, missing the love-struck look set on you. A shame, really, because those eyes you loved so much had never looked shinier or softer.

“Okay, so since we’re sharing a bed, your ass is taking a bath.” Way to ruin the moment for him.

“But I’m tired and want to sleep,” he whined. A few moments passed where he fully registered your words and had to reboot. He popped back up to sit straight and rushed out, “We’re sharing a bed?”

His eagerness absolutely melted you and you turned to look at him with affectionate eyes. It felt nice to have someone so excited to be near you. You felt valuable. “Yes, we’ve done it before.”

“But I was just a head,” he pressed. You raised a brow.

“I mean we can figure something out if you don’t want to.”

Fuck, no, back track! Back track!

“It’s fine,” Buggy said, a little too loudly. “I mean - I don’t care. Well, it doesn’t bother me.” He took a breath and tried again, while you tried to stifle your laughter. “Since you want to be in my bed so bad, you’re more than welcome to it, toots.”

“How sweet,” you cooed sarcastically. Your walk over to him had a predatory sway. He stayed enraptured as you grabbed his scarf and leaned in close to his face. He shivered as the material pulled gently at the back of his neck. His rounded eyes did their best to take in every fleck of color in your own. “After you take a bath.” You let him go quickly and moved back to finish gathering your things.

“Fine,” Buggy groaned. He felt much too flustered so he compulsively added one more joke. “Sure is one way to get me naked.” He waggled his brows and winked when you gave him an unimpressed look. You wouldn’t let him see how much the thought got to you. The image of him spread out in a tub, skin pink through the steam and long hair sweeping down his shoulders to cling to his chest then float lazily in the water, had you blushing. You imagined him opening droopy eyes, darkened by those pretty lashes, to invite you in with a reaching hand and a devilish smirk. You had to make that a reality. But for now, whatever was happening between you two was too new and unstable.

“I’m sorry to say your nudity will be between you and the room; I’ve bartered with Alvida to use her room’s tub tonight,” you explained.

Buggy was torn evenly between relief and disappointment. On the one hand, he was hurt from what felt like a polite rejection, but on the other, he had more time to prepare before he tried presenting himself to you. When you see more of him, he wants to look his absolute best. He wanted to stand up to your looks and prove he was worth looking at. He needed you to feel he was worth touching and especially holding. He desperately needed it to be perfect so that if anyone was making a fool of themselves with nervousness and desire it would be you.

He refocused himself by continuing your banter. “Oh, sweets, what’d that cost ya?”

“A future favor to hold over my head,” you answered. A grimace tugged at your lips for a moment at the memory of Alvida’s predatory smile at the terms.

He let out a low whistle. “Sure is a high price for a tub.”

“You have no idea how desperate I am for a soak,” you moaned in a way that sounded exhausted to you but sinful to Buggy. You needed to get away from him before he said or did something stupid.

“Then go already and be quick; we paid for a nice bed and I’m getting my money’s worth,” he said, flicking his hands to shoo you. With a roll of your eyes, a shakedown of your bag, and a sarcastic salute, you left the room to give yourself the scrub down of a lifetime (and then that relaxation soak for your aching bones - Buggy will survive some waiting).

A very small piece of Buggy wished that he had asked you to share the tub, but a very large part of Buggy was a chicken. Besides, he wanted to see you on the ‘after’ side of clean; not ‘before’. He gathered his supplies, mostly shaved and siphoned from yours, while the tub filled. After the water reached high enough, Buggy stared at it with a sour frown. He was monologuing to himself about the tedious endeavor you’ve trapped him in, only to change his mind the moment he settled into the bath. Though he’d never admit it to you, the relief he felt at the warm water loosening him and washing the stale feeling off of his skin made the effort and delay of a bath well worth it. Before he moved to start however, Buggy closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling and release his imagination.

His mind was kind and supplied him with images of you sitting beside the tub, preparing your tools and tinctures to take care of him. The smile he gave you was the one he admired on the tangerine night, and even though it was conjured by his own mind, it made his heart stutter. He made his plight worse when he imagined overflowing love in your eyes and sweet words on your tongue. You were helping him after a long day at sea - no, no, after a successful raid for treasure. You sang his praises and called him things like “sweetheart” and “my love”. Your body was dripping with the priceless gems and precious metals that he’d placed on you the moment he had gotten back to his cabin, and he told you you looked like a queen. You blushed and smiled and hugged and kissed and pulled him over to the tub to show your gratitude with loving service.

The fact that he was able to use your shampoo and conditioner again made the illusion better but his fingers were no match for yours. They pulled no sighs nor tingles from him. They didn’t ease him into liquid contentment. Even though he was able to mostly replicate the soothing and intentional way you had worked the products into his scalp, he gave up the effort quickly. It wouldn’t feel nearly as good because it wasn’t you doing it. He instead set about going through the process as quickly as possible.

Buggy had hoped that moving on to washing his body would give him a reprieve from his yearning, but it simply continued on. Each swipe of the soaped cloth across his skin has him daydreaming of your hand behind it instead. He wondered what bliss you would be able to bring his aching muscles if he had turned to putty after only a scalp massage. He wondered what details you would notice and add to like you had when washing his hair. Which surfaces would you soften? Which senses would you guide? Which hidden knots would you free him of? Which pieces of himself would you have him learning new joys from?

He wrenched himself back into the present, realizing he had stood still in his thoughts for much too long. Setting back to his work, Buggy gave himself a painstakingly thorough washing and rinsing, finishing it off with a long brushing of his teeth. He felt very ridiculous going about the whole process, but the thought of being so close to you and having or doing anything that disgusts you. He’s positive it would crush him.

That very feeling had him washing every spec of sand, dirt, sweat, and makeup off of his face so he could build the whole look back up fresh. He gave his past self one drop of gratitude for keeping makeup in his coat. Though it was usually for touch-ups, there was plenty to make almost any of his looks. He was meticulous with his application, especially around his eyes. There was not a line or lash or spec of glitter out of place. He kept to the same crossbones and blue diamonds you had first seen him in, hoping that they’d continue to keep your attention. He remembered that you noticed his eyes only second to his hair, so he darkened the smudged liner around them in hopes you would stare longer. 

Next, the wild red smile was painted across his face. It made him feel more comfortable, like his nose stood out less, but something was missing. Buggy stared too long at his reflection, picking at every detail until all of it was ugly and distorted and unfixable. With a sigh, he settled on blending his painted smile to be a deeper blood red at his lips and turned away from the mirror. Though he was saved from seeing himself any longer, he didn’t feel any better. That was precisely when you knocked on the bedroom door.

~ ~ ~••• ✦✦✦•••~ ~ ~

<-Prev Next->

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @youreinthewind @snippychicke

[littlexdeaths]

sympathy for the devil - e.m.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Rec List 2023 #4

Hello! This is the last list of 2023! These are the wonderful fics I ended my year with! I hope you enjoy them! If anyone would like to be removed from this list; please let me know! As always each of these fics has its own content warnings, and most, if not all are 18+ so Minors Do Not Interact!

Seokjin

daydream @joonie-beanie

summary: Your literature professor has a bit of a…gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios…involving him.

pink panther @gimmesumsuga

summary: The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are

9 months to fall in love @floralseokjin

summary: It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in. Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it. Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

dream come true @sugaurora

summary: Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

whole @yoongiphoria

Yoongi

can't afford love @dollfaceksj

summary: Your childhood dream of having 2 children in a big house with a blooming marriage by this point in time has been eliminated the moment divorce came knocking at your door. With only one child and finding yourself back at square one, you ask your ex-husband—Min Yoongi—if he’d be down to fulfill 1 of these 3 things on your childhood’s bucket-list. And no, it’s not giving you a big house.

u suck !! @kithtaehyung

summary: Jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume.

three tangerines ^

summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

broken pt. 1 ^

summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell.

ghostface killers @gimmethatagustd

summary: You’ve had your eyes set on Yoongi for as long as you can remember. What you didn’t know is that he’s had his eyes on you, too.

red & white @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: you and yoongi have something to share this holiday

Hoseok

spookie coochie @gimmethatagustd

summary: The only monster Hoseok wishes you were interested in finding this Halloween season is his monster c–

drink champagne in my airplane @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Your friend Hoseok decided to use his excessive wealth for good and take the both of you on a much-needed vacation. The flight was meant to be relaxing until he broke out one of his most expensive bottles of champagne.

a holly, jolly crisis @kpopfanfictrash

summary: At this time last year, you thought you had it all. A kick-ass screenwriting job for the hottest TV show in LA, an actor boyfriend whose career was taking off and an affordable apartment with not one, but two bathrooms. Fast-forward to now and you’re single, soon-to-be jobless and searching for a way to scrape together January rent. Everything seems to be falling apart, which was why you told your family you weren’t coming home for the holidays. Enter your little sister, Sara, who recently became engaged to her boyfriend, Yoongi and needs you home to celebrate. The biggest problem? Returning home means you’ll be forced to face everything and everyone you left behind, including Yoongi’s best man – and your ex-best friend, Hoseok.

12 lays of christmas @minisugakoobies

summary: Your brother’s best friend Hoseok really likes your cookies 

it's a promise @sahmfanficbts

arranged marriage au

Namjoon

close, closer, closest @augustbutwinter

summary: you know your soulmate is close, but you haven’t met them yet. every day your counter goes up when you pass that one station. until one day it doesn’t.

make an effort @7ndipity

summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

a word from our sponsors @ugh-yoongi

summary: you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it.

Jimin

cloud nine @suga-kookiemonster

summary: “he’s here again,” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot--devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

menace @eoieopda

summary: Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Park Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Too bad you can’t keep your hands off him.

crescent bound @parkhabits

summary: One night you’re having the best hookup of your life and the next you’re being told that the little mark on your neck is more than just a hickey and that Park Jimin was more than you expected too.

the dark side of the moon @dovechim

summary: falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 

a remedy for mondays ^

summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

heavy petting @kittae

summary: Your boyfriend is not just a cat hybrid, he’s also very needy! When you come home from work and you expect him to be all over you, you’re fairly disappointed to find he prefers a nap over some well-deserved quality time. You’ll make sure to pay him back for that.

the devil in his details @johobi

summary: Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

me, you, and this thing we have between us @boymeetsweevil

summary: You’re pregnant and jimin is…happy about it

devil's advocate @7cypher

summary: You had met the devil on a hot summer day. He had shown up in a red polo, red cap, and white sneakers on his feet. That day, you had invited your devil into your home and he hasn’t left since.

no strings @kpopfanfictrash

summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

the ten days of ex-mas @kpopfanfictrash

summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling. Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Taehyung

midnight @sailoryooons

summary: Taehyung loves being your prince charming, even if it means trying to find where you’ve wandered off to in the middle of a Halloween party without your shoes. 

the holi-date @kpopfanfictrash

summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

of lace and lust @hobidreams

summary: friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

hush @suga-kookiemonster

summary: four seats, five bodies. “careful, sweetheart,” he breathes into the shell of your ear, hands tightening over your waist in warning. you lick your lips, pausing just long enough to ponder: what if you don’t want to be careful?

rotten angelcake @inkedtae

summary: she’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten. this is a series following the complicated relationship between a sugar baby, sugar daddy and his corruption kink.

sausade @kimvvantae

summary: no one is born to be alone and no one can be complete in oneself - that’s why, in this world, every person has a pair, someone that complements their soul in every aspect. you, however, are an exception to the rule, for the mark on your wrist indicates that your pair has passed away way before you were born.

kinda hot @kimnjss

summary: you’ve always been cute, soft, tiny in taehyung’s eyes. but that’s changing one night when you’re accidentally sending him a naughty picture. forcing him to realize, maybe his best friend is kinda… hot?

Jungkook

jungkook drabble @euphoricfilter

summary: obsessed gf m/c and equally as obsessed boyfriend jungkook. he’s the light of her life, and she’s the reason he smiles

blessed with a curse @sweetestofchaos

summary: When your company throws a mandatory Halloween party, you aren’t thrilled. You’re even less thrilled when a delusional coworker ruins the party and places a curse on everyone because her crush, the resident werewolf, Jeon Jungkook, rejected them.

seasons don't fear the reaper @augustbutwinter

summary: life is short, they say. one day everyone meets their death, they say. how often can you meet yours before he takes you with him?

because i love you ch. 13 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

a holiday snowdown @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The Inn on the Hill is in trouble. Or that's what your boss, Namjoon, says during the last-minute All Staff holiday meeting he calls. You need money, and you need money fast, or his parents are planning to sell the resort. When no one can think of an easy solution, Namjoon proposes his parents' idea: a weeklong social media blitz with a celebrity guest. The celebrity? None other than Jungkook Jeon himself: two-time Olympic gold medalist, world-class snowboarder and the nation's sweetheart. What's the problem? You happen to have met Jungkook Jeon before, and sincerely hoped you'd never see him again.

all grown up @btsgotjams27

summary: A family reunion brings back the young boy you grew up with. Though he wasn’t the doe-eyed boy you once knew, he stood in front of you all grown up.

this is us ^

summary: you start to fall hard for jungkook.

OT7/Multiple Members

carnival of terror ch. 2 @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

the gentlemen @honeymoonjin

summary: Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

of storms and vampires @wishesunderthestars

summary: During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn’t simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook’s sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago.

oh, little red @jincherie

summary: You knew they warned you about that path for a reason, you knew you shouldn’t take it as a shortcut. You knew, but you were running late, and you did it anyway. Oh, little red, just what have you gotten yourself into?

Ateez

Seonghwa

let me keep you warm @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: “Are you cold?” “A little bit but I’ll be okay.” “Come here, let’s get you all warmed up.”

[epiicaricacy-arts]

without the sour the sweet wouldn’t taste

why are you as a man eating another man’s ear after you failed to make him eat his ex girlfriend. 🤨🏳️‍🌈⁉️

im allowed a bit of toxic yaoi. as a treat

process discussion utc ⬇️

for those familiar with my work you’ll know that i like trying a lot of new styles and experimenting in order to achieve a certain vibe. usually those are heavy painterly styles such as the sunday art inspired by Yuming Li, which is what i’m familiar and comfortable with, both traditionally and digitally

what im NOT familiar with is watercolour. i’ve never had a good time with it 🥲 i just cant seem to wrap my head around the process since its requires me to work backwards (light to dark vs dark to light)

for this piece i just couldn’t imagine myself rendering it in my usual style. i needed to do something new so that i’d stay invested enough in the piece considering that it has two people, meaning double the work. for some reason i thought it’d be fun to do double the work with a style i am completely uncomfortable with but oh well!! i managed to do it 🤷‍♀️ i was specifically looking at the works of Ko Byung Jun, an artist i’ve seen all over my pinterest feed

while i didn’t end up really following the style super closely i still learned quite a lot just by looking at it while i drew. i tried my best to stick to watercolour brushes and an ink pen but as i was nearing the end i needed to make some alterations that i wasn’t bothered to try fixing with the watercolour brushes so i just went over it with my digital ones 🫡 i did my best that’s what matters!!!

i had to repaint rody a few times cause i just couldn’t get it right and the colours never ended up matching vincent. i painted them separately and i think i got possessed while painting vincent cause it happened in like. 40 minutes. and i couldn’t get it to happen again 😔 it didn’t really matter cause i ended up going ham with the curves tool as always but you know 🤷‍♀️

here’s the image without all the effects:

i find lately it’s been more and more common for me to be sketching several iterations of a concept for days, even weeks before i land on something i like. i have an entire separate canvas that i’ve spent 5 hours just doing thumbnails trying to figure out how i wanted to pose these two in a way that would showcase the characteristics that mattered in the story of this piece.

that’s my process for coming up with drawings: i find inspiration somewhere, i figure out the key concepts/characteristics/symbols etc i want highlighted, and i work around those. sometimes i have a composition in mind or just a general vibe i want to portray. for this one i wanted to make sure the towel, rody’s injured finger and vincent’s face could all be clearly seen, while also portraying the fight scene and the vibe i get from the reference song. almost all of my work revolves around a specific lyric from the song which drives the story of the piece. here i interpreted the line “without the sour the sweet wouldn’t taste” as a connection to all the little actions vince takes with rody that can be seen as “sweet.” drying rody’s hair, bandaging rody’s cut. i then asked myself how i could take those actions and make them “sour” or show them in a different light, in which vince is biting the finger he bandaged and pulling rody closer, preventing his escape with the towel he used to dry his hair. what im trying to communicate in this illustration is the idea of “if it weren’t for how i’m treating you now, you wouldn’t understand how kind i was to you then” in an attempt to illustrate the complexities of the way vincent acts towards rody.

i’m truly in love with the story telling of this game. it’s hard to really say anything about how the characters acted during the story because it’s so complex in how it’s done. it’s very hard to summarize their relationship because there’s so much about it i can’t explain without just quoting the game directly. i think it’s such a beautiful portrayal of obsession and just being fucking weird about someone. i wanted to ensure the elements i mentioned in the above paragraph because i didn’t want to be portraying vincent as solely a villain and rody as a victim. i wanted the storytelling of this one illustration to live up to my impression of this beautiful game and i hope i did it justice.

thank you for reading this if you’ve made it this far. i love rambling on all my art posts cause i think it’s so valuable for artists to expand on their work outside of the result alone. i hope what im saying is at most helpful to someone and at the very least a good read. i’m probably gonna take a bit of an art break after this since it took a lot out of me, plus im on the last days of my trip. thank you again for reading!

here’s my dog

[gojozaiacc]

TEMPTATION, buggy the clown.

la!!buggy the clown x fem!!marine!!reader summary: the daughter of Axe-Hand Morgan decided to go rogue finally, pairing up with the straw hat crew, only for them to get captured instantly by a wanted pirate captain. tw!! swearing, violence, weapon violence. notes: this is sort of a sneak peak to a full on book I'm writing on Buggy... ;)

A groan fell past y/n's lips as she was shaken awake by her captain in the straw hat. She was starting to wonder if this had been the right choice.

Then again she would rather stab herself in the eye than go back to her brute of a father. She squinted at the boy who grinned when seeing her starting to gain consciousness.

"Your awake!!"he exclaimed which had her groaning, pinching the bridge of her nose. She nodded and stood up, a few inches shorter than the box they were being held in.

"We need a plan."Nami tried to reason with Zoro who was banging against the walls angrily. That was when y/n noticed that her sword was gone from around her waist as well as her bag of throwing stars.

"I don't need a plan. I just need to beat the hell out of every marine I see."Zoro snapped. y/n shook her head. --"This isn't the Marines. My dad wouldn't lock us in a box."She informed them, her head still reeling from the gas she had inhaled earlier before losing consciousness.

Luffy nodded in response. --"Before I got knocked out I saw a Jolly Rogger."He informed the group, pausing for dramatic effect. --"We've been captured by pirates."He finished, almost excited by the prospect.

Nami seemed to freeze beside y/n earning herself a concerned look by the blonde. --"That's much better news..."She mumbled out sarcastically.

y/n only shook her head. --"I mean at least pirates don't have training like marines do."She tried to cheer the orange-haired girl up. Zoro nodded.

"They're right. Pirates are easier to kill."Zoro grumbled. y/n nodded in response and though she didn't have her usual weapons she was ready to fight with her fists.

"Shanks used to say not every situation can solved with violence," Luffy spoke in a wise tone. Zoro didn't seem to share the wise attitude as he squinted at his captain, --"Who the hell is Shanks?"He asked the boy who only grinned in response.

"we don't need to fight." he simply responded, still grinning. --"I can talk to them. Pirate to pirate." y/n couldn't help but smile at his optimism.

Though he was sometimes a little too optimistic for her liking, she still couldn't help but feel affection for the boy in the straw hat. Nami squinted at the boy.

"that won't work."She broke it to him harshly. y/n folded her arms but kept quiet. Luffy's facial expression doesn't change as he turned his gaze towards her. --"Why not?"

Nami gave him an obvious look. --"To start, you're not a pirate."She told him. y/n bit her tongue to disagree with her, figuring it not best to argue in their situation. --"Yes I am."Luffy responded.

Nami shook her head. --"No you're just some stretchy guy in a tattered hat.", Luffy didn't seem to be taking anything that Nami was saying to him to heart. --"I'm a different kind of pirate."He only responded.

A distant look appeared on Nami's face as she stared almost hatefully at Luffy. --"Pirates are pirates. There's only one kind."she spat. y/n eyed her, sympathy in her gaze despite knowing nothing about Nami's past. The tangerine-haired woman had obviously had a bad experience with pirates.

The roof of the box suddenly lifted and y/n tilted her head back, squinting at the bright lights beaming down on her. Seconds later one of the walls lifted allowing the group to step out from their temporary cage.

Folding her arms behind her back, she glanced around as numerous different performances happened around them. They were in a circus tent by the looks of things.

She eyed the performers with a sort of fascination. Growing up the daughter of Axe-Hand Morgan didn't allow her the opportunity to get out much so this level of excitement around her was a completely foreign feeling.

Her eyes drifted to where the sounds of clapping was from. There sat a crowd of people who appeared to be enjoying themselves but if you looked closer you could see fear in their eyes. y/n swallowed uneasily as the crowd laughed fakely, obviously fearful for their lives.

Luffy, who hadn't spotted the crowd yet, started to clap for the performers which had Nami whacking his hands.

y/n started glancing around the room, looking for any ways to escape or to attack. She couldn't find many and it didn't help much that they were completely surrounded.

"no, no, no, no..."A voice suddenly sounded through all of the excitement and the group all turned their attention to the source. Out walked the figure of a man. --"Stop!! it's all wrong."He called out, and the crowd instantly went silent which led y/n to believe this was the man in charge.

"The spotlight was late. You completely missed my entrance," he informed from the shadows, staring up at the spotlight man. y/n watched the dark figure gesture to the spotlight and then to himself.

And then the spotlight moved to land on him and y/n's heart stopped.

She knew him. Buggy the clown. He was one of the pirates who had been eluding her father for years. He was worth 15,000,000 berries. He was also not exactly her father's biggest fan for obvious reasons.

Now she knew what to expect. Not that, that was a good thing. Buggy walked closer to one of his crewmates. --"And where, oh where..."He trailed off as he got closer to a man who wore a funny-looking costume, --"Was the dancing...lion?", the man flinched back, shaking with fear.

y/n could feel a few of Buggy's crew members eyeing her and she shrank back a little under their gazes. She was aware that she had a bit of a reputation to her name among pirates so she had expected to encounter some trouble when she decided to go with Luffy, she just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

"Hey, I know you!!"Luffy suddenly called out and y/n snapped her head to him, begging him with her eyes to shut up. He nodded to y/n who stared bug-eyed at him. --"We saw you're wanted poster in Shells Town."He informed the clown.

Luffy kept a grin on his face, clearly impressed with Buggy's whole performance. --"You're the clown guy!!"He said more to himself as he tried to remember Buggy's actual name. --"Uhh, Binky, right?"He spoke, clicking his fingers as though he had gotten his name right.

y/n sighed into her palm, --"Buggy."She and the clown pirate corrected the young pirate at the same time. Buggy dropped down from where he stood, glancing towards y/n for a second before looking back to Luffy.

"Buggy...the flashy fool." he spoke as he got closer and closer to the group only adding to y/n's unease. --"Buggy the...genius jester."he finished, gesturing to himself with a flare of cockiness to him.

y/n almost rolled her eyes at the confidence.

Luffy looked even more impressed now, widening his eyes along with Buggy's words. --"Wow.."He drew out with no sarcasm. --"You have a lot of names." he finished with a nod.

He glanced around at Buggy's crew. --"I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." y/n cringed at his poor choice of words, scrunching her nose up as the crowd gasps in shock.

Though she had never met the clown in person, y/n was fully aware that he was incredibly sensitive about his nose due to it's unusual size.

Buggy continued to smile but it wavered a little between anger and annoyance. --"What did you just say?"He asked, his voice now having a dry tone to it.

y/n tried to shake Luffy's arm in a way that would tell him to not respond to the pirate's question. However, Luffy only glanced down at her, confused. --"Just that everybody knows who you are."He said again and she scrunched her face up.

Something switches in Buggy instantly as he runs at Luffy, grabbing the boy by his face out of anger, and squishing his cheeks together. --"NOSE?!"He exclaims in a shout.

A hand suddenly gripped y/n by her shoulder and her eyes widened as she was yanked backwards, something instantly being pressed to her neck.

She hissed a little as the sharp objects digs into her skin, another sharp object being pressed into her back just to be sure she didn't try something to retaliate. --"Are you making fun of my nose?"Buggy asked the boy.

Luffy denied the accusation, curious about the clone's nose. --"But now that you mention it...is that thing for real?"He asked, lifting a hand to poke the clown's nose. Buggy slapped the hand away with an irritated look on his face.

"They have a marine with them, captain." a voice spoke directly behind y/n leading her to believe they were the one with the sword pressed to her neck.

Buggy glanced towards her, his eyes lighting up as he clicks his gloved fingers together. --"Axe-hand's daughter!!"He exclaims with a wide grin. She pursed her lips together, her stomach dropping at the knowledge that Buggy knew who she was.

He flapped his hands almost excitedly to his crew member, moving away from Luffy. --"Bring her here."He instructed the pirate holding y/n hostage with his swords.

Deciding it was best to not try and fight the guy who had a sword pressed against her neck and another one against her neck, she didn't put up a fight as she is walked over to the pirate captain.

Buggy gestured for his crew member to release her and he did without hesitation. Buggy walked to her side and swung an arm around the back of her shoulders mockingly so her side was pressed into his.

"I gotta say, toots.."He trailed off, lifting one of his gloved hands to pat her cheek teasingly. --"Big fan of your work." he told her with a grin. His hand grazed her arm as he glanced down at her, leveling his face with hers as he grinned.

"I mean, you see my crew?"He asked her in a hushed voice, pointing a finger to some of his crew members. She followed his pointed finger, glancing to a few of the angry faces that stared back at her.

"did you know that you've murdered a few of their friends?"Buggy chuckled into her ear like the fact was funny, his breath fanning the side of her face. She went pale as Buggy patted her arm.

"Small world, right?"He laughs as he whispers in her ear. She swallowed but didn't move away from his grip. She didn't have any weapons so what would be the point?

She swallows and turns her head to look at him. Her gaze met his coldly. He challenged her gaze with a wide grin on his face.

She wasn't used to that. Every pirate she had ever stared down gave in easily. She had that dark look to her eyes, the look of inescapable doom. But not Buggy. He grinned in her face and that irritated her to another level.

Why isn't he scared of her like the others?

With one last grin, her slapped a hand to her shoulder and glanced to one of his crewmembers.

"You."He pointed to him and the associate flinches at the attention, clearly terrified of his captain. --"Take this one back to my cabin."he informs him.

y/n's eyes widen in fraction, surprise appearing on her face as the pirate walks over to grab ahold of her. --"Put her in the thing!!"Buggy called out as she is ripped from his grip and tugged away away.

She could hear Luffy start to speak up, asking what they were doing with her but his voice is soon drowned out as she was now alone with the pirate. He was gripping her arm tight enough she was sure there would be a big bruise on her forearm.

Soon enough, he pushed open a door and shoves her harshly inside. She stumbles inside, staggering to her knees as she collapses into the side of what she assumed was Buggy's desk.

She groans and lifts a hand to clutch her side as the pirate walks towards her, lifting his foot to kick her in the stomach. She grunted and staggered back as he clutched her by her hair.

"Don't recognise me?"He spat at her, levelling his face with hers. She groaned in distaste as he snapped her head back so she was looking at him.

"Not exactly."She mumbled. A look of anger passed the man's face as he swung his fist at her face. Her head bounced back as she groaned, blood trickling down her nostril.

The pirate got close to her face. --"If Captain Buggy didn't need you I would kill you."he hisses, his disgusting breath fanning her face. She crinkled her nose and glared at him.

His face got even closer to hers. --"You murdered my best friend."He spoke through clenched teeth and she raised an eyebrow. --"You're going to have to be more specific than that."She spoke in a mocking tone which only earned her another punch to the face.

With a grunt, she pulled herself up to lean against Buggy's desk, spitting out some blood. Her jaw is suddenly roughly grabbed again by the crook pirate.

"You cut him down where he stood, forced him to swallow broken glass."He hissed. Her eyes go distant for a moment as her eyebrows raised, the memory coming back.

"The teenager..."She trailed off. She could remember this, it had happened when she was 14 and training underneath her father.

Axe-Hand had forced his daughter to go after one of the pirates that had been staying at a local tavern. Her original plan was to just threaten him and arrest him but that wasn't good enough to her father.

He needed to know that she was loyal to the marines.

And so, he forced her to attack, using his influence over her. She was desperate to please her father, desperate for any sort of attention from him considering he had never given her or her brother any sort of attention.

And so she did as she was told. It disturbed her how naturally she fell into the role, forcing the boy who was maybe only 2 years older than her to do things such as swallow broken glass and cut out his own tongue because, in her father's words, pirates don't deserve the privilege to speak.

Her eyes flickered back to the man in front of her, recognition appearing in her eyes. She did remember him. The boy she had killed was a young upstarter, looking to become a pirate captain, the man had been his first mate. She could vaguely remember his name being mentioned to her when they first went to the tavern to arrest them.

Thorpe Cliffton.

Thorpe still had a grip on her face, tears sprouting his eyes as memories seemed to flush in. y/n felt bad, she really did, but she didn't take too kindly to the blood pooling in her mouth.

"He was only 16."Thorpe snapped at her, almost happy that y/n seemed to remember. He wanted her to go through that mental torture.

An almost dead look appears in y/n's face as she stared. --"Yeah? well, he was a stupid 16-year-old."She snapped at him. --"You both knew fine well that Shells Town was swarming with Marines at that time, if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else."She hissed.

Thorphe's eye twitched a little as he shoved her back to the ground and stalked off to the corner of the room. y/n took the opportunity to spit out some of the blood that had been pooling in her mouth.

The freak returned with a chain. With little regard for how this might hurt, he reached down and snatched her by her wrists. She didn't fight him as he dragged her over to a hook hanging down in the centre of the room.

She would have fought him had she had her sword.

He wrapped some of the long chain around the hook tightly before chaining her wrists together so she chained to the hook. With a murderous look at her, he walked over to the door and moved a piece of fabric to lift two buttons.

He pressed the top button and the hook started to lift, lifting her wrists with it. Soon enough she was hanging by her wrists, having to stand on her toes so she could still touch the ground.

The discomfort was begging to appear on her features but she didn't show any reaction to Thorpe. She didn't want to look weak. He stalked over to her and leaned in threateningly.

"The second Captain Buggy gives the word. You're dead."he informs her.

She didn't respond, watching him leave the room, locking the door behind him.

With him gone, she let the discomfort appear on her face as she hissed through her teeth. She was starting to feel the effects of some of the punches he had thrown at her.

Tilting her head back, she rattled her chained hands in an attempt to break free but it was no use. He had chained her up pretty well. She had no option but to just wait and hope that Luffy manages to find some way to get out of this creepy clown's tent.

With a sigh, she glanced around the captain's cabin. Buggy's cabin was exactly what you'd expect from someone like him. It was messy, papers were scattered across his desk, and drawers were ajar.

She also took notice of a dart board on his door, a cutout picture of her dad from a newspaper was in the centre with a colourful dagger stabbed through it.

That almost made her chuckle.

She took notice that he had his own wanted poster on the wall and almost scoffed at the obvious cockiness. Other than the wanted poster, the walls were covered in newspaper cutouts of his circus act- a newspaper article that she had no doubt the journalist was forced to write.

There were a few circus tricks scattered around the floor but nothing that she could pick up with her feet and help her escape. Everything was just messy in the cabbin.

Rolling her neck impatiently, she glanced to the side just as the lock in the door was turned and in walks the clown himself. He grins at the sight of her.

"I see you're past has already come back to bite you in the ass."He snickers, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him as he glanced in amusement at her bloodied nose.

She only eyed him, the discomfort instantly going from her face when she saw him. She was now about to look weak in front of this dumb fucking clown.

He reaches into the inside of his coat, pulling out a switchblade. Though he didn't appear to be trying to act threatening towards her.

"Alright, sweets."he started out, taking a few steps towards her. --"Huge fan, by the way. The way you forced that one loser pirate to slice off his own eyelids?"He kissed the tips of his gloved fingers mockingly, making a 'mwah' noise.

She remembered that one. When she was 17, a pirate tried to force himself onto her in the streets at night. So she went on the attack and forced him to slice off his own eyelids as punishment.

She didn't feel bad about that one.

Buggy grinned and pointed a finger at her. --"you're a real damaged soul."He chuckled, he eyes her up and down. --"And no longer working for daddy dearest?"He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

She didn't respond but gave him a look that said 'what do you think you stupid clown?'. He reached to the side into a fruit bowl sitting on a table, grabbing an apple, he tossed it up and down in his hand.

"And y'know, I collect damaged souls."He told her as he started to carve off some of the apple with his switchblade. --"I collect the deranged, the freaks of nature."He continued, raising his eyebrows as his blue eyes stare at hers. --"Make them part of my act."He hums.

"And you.."He points a finger to her with a giddy chuckle, throwing some of the carved apple between his red lips. --"belong in my act."He tells her, taking a step closer so his face was a mere two feet away from hers.

"How about I unchain you and you ditch these nobodies and join my crew, huh?"He questioned, lifting a hand to grip her chin. His grip was nowhere near as tight as Thorpe's had been, it was soft as he tried to sway her.

She continued to stare at him, her gaze sharp and unwavering. --"How about you unchain me and I'll cut your nose down to your liking?"She questioned innocently, remembering how he flipped off the handle earlier when Luffy brought up his nose.

An amused and forced grin appears on Buggy's face. He clicks his tongue and waggles his finger, stalking toward her so she had to look up at him. His hand still clutching her chin.

"Since I'm such a big fan of yours, I'm gonna take that response as a maybe."He grinned. She didn't understand this guy. Why hadn't the nose mention pissed him off?

He dropped her chin and took a step back to observe her. --"Where's my map?"He asked, folding his arms. She raised an eyebrow.

"Explain to me why i would tell you."She questioned. --"Because if you don't tell me I'll make sure the stretchy kid does."He simply replies, watching her face harden a little protectively.

"I don't know where it is."She told. It technically wasn't a lie, she hadn't been awake when Luffy had informed the group that he had swallowed the map. She was as clueless as Buggy was.

Buggy eyed her, irritation flashing in his blue eyes when not seeing any tells that she was lying. He popped another piece of the apple into his mouth, the muscles in his jaw flexing in annoyance.

They are silent for a moment, challenging the other's gaze. He then suddenly pointed at her with a grin. --"y'know we've actually met before."He announces, walking closer to her with that stupid fucking grin on his face.

A look appeared on y/n's face as she raised an eyebrow. --"I think I would remember you."She told him dryly and he shook his head. --"When we were both young pups..."He trailed off with a small grin, her continued to eat his apple.

"We met at the execution of good ol' Gold Rogers."He said, walking closer to her. --"You were 10."He spoke almost as though he was trying to remind himself. He started to wave the switchblade as he rambled.

"You were avoiding your dad in the crowd and wound up standing with me. Called my nose 'cool'."He grinned with his words, his gaze a little distant as he recalled the day.

And as he reminded her, she nodded, and the memory returned. Sure the interaction was 20 years ago but you'd think she would remember a kid with a round red nose and blue hair.

"huh..."She mumbled to herself, her wrists starting to ache. Buggy rested a hand on his chest, his crazed grin still spread across his lips. --"That comment stayed with me for a long time, blondie."

She almost snickered in response, raising a lazy eyebrow. --"Good to know I made such an impact."She mumbled sarcastically. Buggy laughed in response to her tone, lifting a hand to pat her cheek mockingly.

"Join my crew."He whispered to her, his face close to hers. Squinting, she tilted her head to the side against her raised forearm. --"No."She whispered back in a taunting tone.

She expected him to blow up but he didn't. Whether she wanted it or not, Buggy felt some sort of fucked up connection to her. He dropped his head in mock disappointment, his gaze on the floor as he sighed dramatically.

"What could those nobodies possibly have to offer you, anyway?"He questioned, lifting his head. His breath fanned against her face as he leaned in closer to her.

He raised a mocking eyebrow. --"A family?"He questioned sarcastically. Family is a touchy subject for her. She craned her neck back a little as his face got closer to hers.

"I could be your family."He tells her, his nose nearly touching hers. Her heart thudded a little louder against her ribcage at the closeness but she didn't back down. A hum rumbled up her throat as she eyed him, her brown eyes piercing.

"How about you unchain me and I consider it?"She tried and Buggy let out an amused laugh in response. --"Nice try, short stuff."He replied.

He took a step back, still peeling off some of his apple. --"Now I-"He paused to lift up a chunk of the apple he had cut off. --"-am going to go question our stretchy friend. I need my map back."He spoke, still grinning.

He then lifted the chunk of apple up to her lips, using his gloved fingers to pry open her mouth and slip the fruit between her lips. He clamped her jaw back shut, his eyes darting across her face mockingly.

The sweet taste of the fruit was welcomed against her tongue as she moved her jaw to chew on the apple, not breaking eye contact with the clown.

He continued to grin, his face still incredibly close to hers. --"I'll leave you alone to go over your options."He whispered, flashing a toothy grin.

Her eyes followed him as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. A near groan left her lips when she heard the sound of the door being locked again.

"shit."

She was going to be here for a while.

[eureka-its-zico]

I’m gonna need one of those short prompts of zoro just thirsting after doc. I wanna see heart eyes and bullying from Nami.

With that being said, something light would be nice. The series has been pretty dark for the last two chapters and it’d be nice to see them act relatively normal again

I took a small break from working on Ch. 10 to write this out. This chapter is a lot more fun and way less serious than the other two, and I feel like this little spin-off I wrote gives good insight into the chapter.

I hope you like it 💕

P.s. I wrote this on my phone and posting it from my phone so if it’s a little wonky, please forgive me.

——————————

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

If Nami called him out one more time he was going to need to hit something. And if aforementioned orange-haired friend asked how long he’d been watching you, Zoro was going to lie.

Just like what he was doing now.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The shit eating grin Nami wore at his response told him all he needed to know.

He was a terrible liar.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Nami quipped.

“I’m sorry is there a reason you’re here? Besides to annoy me.”

“Ouch!”

Zoro didn’t finish watching Nami pretend to cover up a wound or to see her finish the playful pout she’d been sending his way the past couple of weeks. It allowed his gaze to fall back on where you’d been the last half hour tending to the tangerine trees they’d taken with them for Nami. A piece of Nami’s old life - her old home - planted on the ship as a reminder of all she’d overcome and what she’d gained.

It had taken less than a day for you to talk Nami into showing you how much water to give them and how to carefully trim their branches. Zoro warned you not to overdue it. You were still healing - some of your stitches barely keeping the once open wounds an inch from reopening with one wrong move.

You quickly overruled his worries with a soft press of your lips against his. He refused to admit it had left him shellshocked as you walked away; rooted to the spot next to the island in the kitchen with that damn cook smirking at him while his brain tried to remember how to make words.

“Shut up, waiter.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Sanji replied, flabbergasted and yet, still smirking.

“Keep it that way.”

Zoro stormed out of that kitchen and wanted to storm away from Nami too, but this place on the upper terrace of the deck gave him the perfect spot to watch you. To make sure you were being careful and only a short distance away if you weren’t.

“I thought you guys were together.”

God, he really needed Nami to fuck off. Crossing his arms, Zoro leaned his forearms against the railing and hoped it would send the message he was done conversing. Unfortunately for him, Nami moved closer. Her back against the rail and her arms draped behind her. It gave Nami the perfect view of his face.

Zoro knew she wasn’t going to leave him alone until he answered.

“We are.”

“So, care to tell me why you are watching her like you’re still pining for her?”

“I’m not pining,” he grumbled back.

“This is the definition of pining.”

That’s it. He was going to toss Nami overboard.

“I’m not - “

He refused to admit defeat but damn it he couldn’t stop his forehead from pressing down into the wood of the bannister. He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed to anyone listening to give him strength.

You would be super pissed if he did throw Nami overboard.

“Is there a reason you’re still here bugging the shit out of me?”

“If you’re with her Zoro, go be with her. That’s all I’m saying. You shouldn’t have to creep around and be away from her when you clearly want to be next to her.”

Zoro did.

He couldn’t describe it. Fuck, he couldn’t deny it, either. Every atom of his being craved to be next to you. To bury his face in the crook of your neck and breathe you in. Memorize the smell of the sea on your skin and the different herbs you dried and for whatever concoctions you made that day. He loved it when he could smell Rosemary in your hair or the ginger that reminded him of home.

But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. It’d only been a couple of weeks since Luffy and crew had left the Conomi Islands. Only a few weeks when Zoro thought he would never…

“I’m just trying to give her space.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so soft? Now Nami was giving him that look and - fuck.

Zoro refused to glance up at Nami - the look that must be on her face. So, he kept his eyes on the safest place he could find.

You.

“Look, I know this relationship thing is kind of new for you, Zoro. It can be scary, at times.”

“I’m not afraid,” he cut in.

“-but,” she continued ignoring his sudden outburst. “I know for a fact the last thing she wants is space. Doc wants you, Zoro more than she’s going to want to be left alone.”

She clapped her hand against his shoulder, signaling she was departing, and left him brooding against the banner. His eyes no longer watching as you gently cut dying stems from the tangerine trees, but out into the endless blue and wondered if it was possible that Nami was right.

He was never going to hear the end of it if she was.

[dozing-marshmallow]

~VISITING CHRIS MCLEAN IN JAIL~

(Months in his sentence.)

It was quite scary, walking down the aisle of inmates. You made sure to stick close to the guard escorting you to Chris’ cell. The place reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies, flaming your nostrils, making you solely rely on your mouth for breathing. So much rubbish was thrown between floors, loud chattering from other prisoners bursted the air. Walking down, you heard too many lewd comments passing about you. 

Yikes...

Further down, you could recognise Chris’ laughter.

”How has he been doing?”

The guard thought it better to show you.

There he was. Your favourite man in tangerine.

Rather than metal bars, he was behind transparency. Isolation?...

God, he was meant to be a prisoner, not have his ravishing lifestyle still concur because he happened to have money. His wealth was as self absorbed as he was, needing to radiate everywhere, even in a time where it was simply not enough to save him. In comparison to the single bed and toilet most imprisoned busybodies were limited to, for starters, there on his wall was four portraits, two of them being of the island, one being himself, the other one being the wedding day. That may have been the most selfless act he’s done yet. We then have his toy statues of himself, you and Chef on his shelf, too self promoting to be part of the utilities of the prison...and two rolls of toilet paper. Some prisoners are lucky to even get one.

He was sitting at the edge of his flat bed, looking shallow, but when he saw you, oh man, did he get excited.

”(Y/N)!” He yelled, jumping up and onto the glass that separated you. His hands pressed onto the door and saliva already slipped out his mouth at the sight of you,”(Y/N)... You...You actually came...to see me!”

”Hey Chris...” it was so uncanny to see him without that necklace,“How are you? I have a present for you!” you marginally lift the sealed box to him... Well, half sealed since it had to be checked first. The look on those officers’ faces... You would never forget it. It was bizarre, yes, but it was allowed.

”Presents!” his excitement overflown,“You know I love presents, nothing without them! Give me, give me, give me!”

”Uh...” you saw the slot was too small for your box.

“What’s the matter? Can’t find the right pair?”

The guard that assisted you kindly took the gift and handed it to him via cautiously opening the door. Chris didn’t have any intention to assault anyone, for his mind was too preoccupied with glee as he hurriedly went to open it, only to be greeted by anarchy.

”Larry?”

”Yeah...” you beam sadly, catching sight of Larry’s green head, peering curiously out from the box,“They were able to make him shrink and I knew you were lonely in here. I would visit you everyday if I could, but the rules state that if I did, it could mean your sentence would have to double.”

“Bummer. Thooough I wouldn’t wanna stay in here any longer than I need to! For whatever stupid reason. Now that I have my best friend in the whole world! Even though I told you to take care of him...” there he goes with that glare.

Not even a damn thank you,”Sorry Chris... But it’s better I give him back to you before the environment protection crew cleansed him too much. And I don’t know how I could take care of Larry.... Besides, he would be more happy with you than with me.”

”You’re forgiven, my absolute darling!” He set Larry down on his table before returning back to the door,”Sooo, what’s new with you? It feels like it’s been ages since we had any quality time together!”

“Erm... I’ve been better...” doubt weighed your words; it was hard to keep eye contact with your husband when his eyes were endlessly wide. Not knowing what else to do, you stupidly return the question.

“Good, good...” he hums, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the glass,“How’s Chef? Dead or something?”

“Chris!” You exclaim. Your husband always had some sadism, but most of the time, it was out of humour. Disturbingly, it was almost like Chef’s death was something he wanted,”How could you suggest something so horrible so casually? Especially on your friend?”

He shrugged,”What can I say? He hasn’t come see me in a while. Or maybe he has, but I just can’t see him because he’s like a ghost. Do you reckon he could float through this glass like how they do in the movies?”

“No... Thankfully, not.” you decide to leave out Chef rejecting your offer to accompany you in visiting Chris that day,“Chef’s been...busy.”

“Busy? Busy dying?” you hysterically shake your head,“Huh...” his eyes trail off to the side, slightly relaxing,“Have you ever realised that we slowly die everyday?”

You shudder. Death was such a lighthouse for Chris to ingest. Here though? Where everyday was the same thing, with a mere minute feeling like an hour? You knew this couldn’t be good for him,“Stop talking like that... You know that’s not how you really feel.”

He raises an eyebrow,“Oh, but what if it is? I no longer fear the deaths of the people I supposedly care about.”

“Is that right?” Supposedly? You were heartbroken.

“Oh! But I still love you. A lotttttt. Trust me!” His sight quickly returns back to you, springing a large smile on his face. There was something strange about it, but you fought that thought by giving a reciprocal.

“I...love you too.” why was it so hard to say it back?

“Really? Really... Really!” He places his hands whole back on the glass, going completely quiet as he stared at you. Just staring. You would’ve thought he spaced out, but his eyes were well aware of your being, standing before him, patient. Eventually, he starts speaking again with a soft tone,”Ohh...I can’t wait...to sleep in my own cottage again with you...to touch your hair...to touch you...”

Don’t dream about it so soon...,“Me too Chris... I... The bed feels so empty without you.”

“I have a solution for that!” he chimes. Whenever Chris is this inspired, you know it’s not gonna be nice,“Why don’t you do something unreasonable and end up in here with me? After all, I did nothing wrong to be here! I blame all those people who can’t take a joke nor know how to mind their business! All my accusers were nothing but absurd! It’s not my fault the island ended up the way it did! Besides, it was totally worth the ratings! Genius, am I right?”

Still thinking like a host, are we Chris?,“I-I’m good... I don’t think they would let us be bunkmates anyway, especially if you’re in...solitary confinement.”

“Oh yeah? Even if I threw up a thousand big ones for them?“ he scoffs,“Suit yourself. I guess I’m gonna have to continue pretending that my pillow is you. Your fault too.”

“What...” he’s not joking as well. That struck a nerve,“How is it my fault you chose to sell the island to that toxic waste company?”

“Come on!” his face stretches like it’s common sense,“No one could have expected something like that to happen! It was a complete fluke! No one can be blamed for that, especially not me!”

Of course he was going to make himself the victim: he’s worn nothing but orange for the past few months, couldn’t live by his own agenda and was constantly surrounded by people. Poor little Christian, the tragedy king, hasn’t life been hard on him,“That’s the thing though, isn’t it, Chris? The island was your stewardship and it was your decision to sell it to them. The only person to blame is-“

With the slam of his hand, a wobbly echo of glass emits through your body, leaving your words untied,“Don’t you scold me! You‘re the one that came to visit me, and I know I didn’t sign up to hear you forcing the blame on me for something that was out of my hands! It was out of my estimations, okay? Ugh!”

It took a lot to keep it together. This is exactly why you could never communicate properly with him. Why couldn’t he just slim his ego and accept that jail was his fault for once?! No one else was going to serve jail for him, maybe Chef was right in avoiding Chris,“Fine whatever, have it your way.” you glance down at your wrist, where the watch Chris asked you to keep safe for him buckled,“It seems that my visiting time is up anyway.”

“Aw, seriously? You just got here!” he huffs, magically getting over the heat of the argument,“Could you promise to bring some chocolate next time you visit? It'd be a reaaaaaaally great birthday gift.”

That’s right, it is coming up soon. You nod,“I’ll have to make sure it’s fine with the police officers first, but I’m sure they’ll allow it.”

He’s certain of it,"Course it'll be! They'd allow me to keep portraits in here, but not chocolate? Barbaric!" Certainty. His hamartia.

“Hah, that’s true.” first time in ages you both found something to agree on,“Well... Take care, Chris. I’ll be on my way now.” You turn on your heel and would have accelerated, had it not been for the man in question’s interesting choice of parting words.

“No kiss? Boooooo.”

You twirl back around, trying to figure out the best way to break it down to him,“We... We can’t-“

A disgusted sigh of his plagues your sentence,“I’m not a bird, (Y/N). Tweet tweet! I can tell there’s glass here. Erm...” he was in the spotlight of improvising, which he’s lived through dozens of times,“Let's do this..." he puts his fingers up to his lips and on removal, he whistled an exhale.

On cue, you hold up a hand and clench it like you had caught it, and done the same. Chris shook from exultation on process, the orange clothing his body clothing his mind in that moment.

"Awesome! See, she still does love me! (Y/N) could never abandon me." for a minute, his voice swooned with profound romance that you founded with him once upon a time. He turns away to the side and smiles, the lovey dovey flying away,"What will happen when our hostess comes next? Will I still be behind bars? Will I get to eat chocolate bars? All the answers soon to be revealed, right here on Total...Drama...Island!”

You take that as your cue to leave. He had gone to another world. Man made. Chris had never done stuff like that before... 

"Hey kitty, what about my kiss? Big Randy over here would like one too." Randy or one of the other prisoners tried coaxing you a few steps in on your exit of the institution of criminals, lust painted all over his oily face.

"Eugh." you stick a finger to your gagging mouth to the stranger prisoner's distaste.

The inhale of the outside air was all the cure you needed from the red-blooded fumes of that place.

Talking to the wall... Would it really be okay to let Chris back on the streets like that? Was prison even a good place for rehabilitation? On one hand, yes, it was about time Chris had felt the weight of his crimes, but on the other hand, was forcing it down his throat the best way to get him to willingly amend?

You won’t be surprised if after his release, he went on to joyfully add onto his record, which was kind of unfortunate- he was your husband. 

And you want him to come home.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 20/? Word count: 2858 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 18. Statement

"Buongiorno," Charles greeted his colleagues when he entered the engineer's truck. His eyes scanned the people who had already sat on their spots. He missed one person, but she must be getting some tea or coffee.

His colleagues greeted him back. Charles sat down in his designated spot next to Matilde, who usually would sit at the head of the long table. It would give her an overview of the team. Charles noticed how her seat was untouched, her notebook and laptop weren't there, just like the tangerine she always ate every morning. It had only happened once that she was late and that was on her first day. It became normal to arrive and see Matilde already sitting there. She was the first to arrive and the last to leave.

Carlos entered the room. "Sorry for being late. There are so many fans out there," he apologised. He sat down across from Charles. He looked at Matilde's spot. "Where's Matilde?" He was surprised.

"Late," an engineer replied.

"Oh. Weird."

Even though the meeting had to begin when Carlos entered the room, people were still busy with preparations. Some didn't mind having a few extra minutes, but it was unusual.

Ten minutes had passed the designated starting time and Matilde was still nowhere to be seen. Members started to exchange puzzled glances. Even if Matildle was a minute late, she would tell someone about it. Her being ten minutes late already, was not right.

"Did someone try to call Matilde yet?" one of the engineers finally suggested.

"I already tried. No answer," someone else answered.

"And Galileo? Did someone try to contact him?"

"Shouldn't we just begin? We need to get this done before we run out of time."

"No, let's just wait for a bit longer. She must be on her way," another voice chimed in, hope lingering in the words.

"I texted Galileo," someone else mentioned.

Just seconds after that, Galileo and Silvia entered the room. Their presence alone was enough to signal that something was amiss. The usual smiles were absent, replaced by expressions of concern. They were never at a briefing like this.

"Can I get everyone's attention, please," Galileo's voice cut through the room, making sure everyone stopped with whatever they were doing. He took a moment to survey the room. "As you have noticed, we are missing the team principal today. Matilde will not be present today, tomorrow, and Sunday," he announced, causing eyebrows to raise in collective surprise. She had never missed one day of work.

A murmur of questions and confusion rippled through the room. Carlos, unable to contain his worry, spoke up first. "What? Why? What happened?"

"We are only allowed to share with the team that Matilde is hospitalised for a personal reason," Galileo responded somberly.

More questions were being asked about the situation.

"Her family has kindly requested that we not contact Matilde until she reaches out to us herself. We will not have a replacement for this weekend, so we must do it together."

Silvia nodded in agreement, her usual vibrant energy subdued. "We will publish a statement in a moment, written by Matilde's family. Charles and Carlos, when talking to the media or someone else who asks about it, you will say she will not be here at the track until further explanation. There will probably get some fuzz around it, let them be, but don't say anything about the hospital. Galileo and I are informed about the situation, but the media doesn't have to know it yet. They asked not to share it because they are still waiting on some results and do not want to share it yet. But do know that she is fine and not in a life-threatening situation. It is a private matter and for you, a team matter. For your further information, Christian Horner and Toto Wolff were there when it happened, but they have also been requested not to share anything with anyone. For now, that is all we know and all we can share. When we get an update, you will be the first to know about it. For questions about it, you know where to find me."

A sense of collective shock settled over the room, the usual camaraderie replaced by an atmosphere of uncertainty. The team members were left with more questions than answers, their concern for Matilde was palpable.

"May I ask why Matilde's family is in control of all the communications? Just curious to know..." one team member ventured, voicing the questions that echoed in the minds of many.

Silvia exchanged a glance with Galileo before responding. "Matilde's family is handling the situation because they value their privacy, and we respect that. Matilde's brother is a press officer and will be dealing with this for now. Let's focus on the tasks at hand and wish Matilde a swift recovery. Updates will follow when we have them."

"We do have a card, so if you would like to write something down, please, do it," Galileo mentioned and gave a massive 'Get Well Soon' card to Charles.

"Can it be stress?" Charles worriedly asked. He knew he had created a lot of fuzz and stress last week. He was worried this could be his fault.

"That's something we cannot share, Charles," Silvia weakly smiled.

He silently gasped for air; he had caused this. Fear flickered in his eyes. "Okay," Charles mumbled and opened the card. As he grabbed a pen, his mind became blank. He stared at the empty card, processing the situation.

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the unknown casting a shadow over what should have been a routine morning briefing. The Silverstone weekend had begun under a cloud of uncertainty, and the Scuderia Ferrari team found themselves navigating uncharted territory without their leader.

- press statement -

Official Statement from the Family of Matilde Jørgensen and Scuderia Ferrari

Dear Scuderia Ferrari and Formula 1 Fans,

We want to inform you that Matilde has been admitted to the hospital for a medical concern that requires some attention. We want to assure everyone that she is currently stable and receiving the necessary medical care. We understand the desire for more details, but we kindly request your understanding and respect for our family's privacy during this sensitive time.

At this time, Matilde needs some space for rest and recovery. Consequently, she will not be present for the upcoming weekend, and we appreciate your understanding regarding her absence. The medical team is taking good care of her, and we are hopeful for a swift and smooth recovery.

As always, we are grateful for Matilde's support and love from the Ferrari family, the Formula 1 community, and fans worldwide. We kindly request respect for our privacy during this period and will keep you updated as necessary.

Thank you for your understanding and warm wishes.

Sincerely,

The Jørgensen Family and Scuderia Ferrari

* * *

It didn't stay unnoticed that there was one team principal missing during the Friday at Silverstone. The news travelled fast through the paddock and beyond. As the morning unfolded, whispers of concern reverberated through the media centre, press rooms and social media platforms. The press release from the family and team confirmed some of the rumours, and photos and videos that were taken last evening - a few fans spotted the rushing ambulance leaving the paddock in the evening, causing so many rumours - but it was Matilde who was taken to the hospital.

Reports were exchanging speculative theories about Matilde's sudden absence. Twitter and other social media channels became flooded with questions and speculation because the statement provided minimal details. It confirmed her hospitalisation, but left the reason shrouded in mystery. Fans and media were craving information about the young team principal. The lack of information became a breeding ground for rumours and speculation.

The week began with all its focus on the huge sporting event in the weekend, but it quickly shifted to the missing and hospitalised team principal.

The whispers and speculations reached a crescendo when fans began piecing together the timeline of events. Fans witnessed the fallout back in Spielberg last weekend, could that be a reason for the absence? The realisation that Matilde was taken from the track to the hospital stirred a wave of anxiety among the Ferrari faithful. Concerned messages flooded the team's social media accounts, asking for updates and offering words of support.

The team was just as affected as the fans were. The first free practice was full of mistakes, especially by Charles. He was distracted and that was noticeable; messy mistakes in the corners, delayed reactions and the times were off. He blamed himself for Matilde's absence and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had been a pain in the arse to her, he gave her a hard time. What if he went too far?

Throughout the entire day, he kept reading the speculations on social media. He didn't know what kind of impact it had on the fans, but it was probably caused by the not-saying-much press release.

Tweets:

"MATILDE IS HOSPITALISED??? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER???"

"Just heard a theory about Matilde's absence at Silverstone - some say it might be stress-related burnout. Hoping for her speedy recovery!!!"

"Heard some dark whispers about Matilde leaving due to internal team clashes. It might be the reason why Matilde collapsed during the team principal's meeting. Hope it's just wild speculation!"

"Ferrari is no good to their team principles. Maybe Matilde collapsed due to all the fights within the team. Everyone does what they want to do in the team. What is going on?!"

Nobody in the team was aware of a sudden departure, but to Charles, it kinda wouldn't be a surprise after the way everyone treated her, including him. Gossip travelled fast through the paddock and over the internet, just like wild theories.

However, the day continued and Charles still had to see the media after the free practices.

"Charles, tough day out there on the track. Can you walk us through your day and the challenges you faced?" F1TV asked.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a tricky one today. We struggled a bit with the balance of the car during the first practice. We were trying some new setups, and it didn't go as smoothly as we hoped." Charles honestly replied and looked around while talking, he never looked the interviewer in the eyes during the interview. "The car felt a bit unpredictable, especially through the high-speed corners. But we have collected enough data, so we will work on it."

The interviewer nodded. "We saw during the second practice that you improved some runs. It seemed like you had it under control."

"Yes, we made some adjustments and it did feel better, but we're still not where we want to be," Charles replied. He was glad the man was only asking about the practices. It felt like he finally could answer properly and think about something else. "We are working hard to analyse the data and find some solutions for tomorrow, for qualifying, and of course, for Sunday." He showed a brief, but promising smile.

"The world is all thinking of Matilde's absence, did it have any impact on the team's performances today?"

Cheered too soon. "Well, it's certainly a bit different not having Matilde around. We all miss her, and I think it's been a bit of a challenge for everyone."

"Fans are speculating about Matilde's situation. Some say it's a reaction to your clash last week in Spielberg, that it caused her to be overstressed and perhaps even burnout. We've seen quite some moments that didn't go smoothly between her and the team. Do you have anything to say to that?"

Charles took a deep breath, recollecting his thoughts. "Uh... I wish I could provide more information, but honestly, I don't have my details. Matilde's family and the team have asked for privacy, and we respect that. All I can say is that we're sending our best wishes her way, and we hope to have her back with us soon," he replied. It was a scripted response, he had to learn that from Silvia and so far, it worked well. "But," he said before the reporter would ask his next question. Charles wanted to share that they made it up. He didn't have the chance to say it to anyone. "About the situation in Spielberg, we talked about it, and we're fine. I also spoke to Carlos and Max, we're all fine now. It was an unfortunate moment, and I'm not proud of it, but we have to look ahead of us, not behind us."

"Thank you for sharing this, Charles. We wish Matilde the best, and we hope to see her soon again."

"Thank you," Charles nodded and returned to the Ferrari hospitality.

"You didn't have to say the last part," the press officer mentioned.

"I wanted to."

The entire team made themselves ready for the debrief again. The engineers were already sharing some points with each other, others were enjoying an espresso, and some people were scrolling through special media.

"Guys," one of the engineers said. "There's a tweet going around that Matilde collapsed due to an addiction issue."

Silence fell in the room, and looks were shared. It was like someone pressed the pause button, no one was moving or saying anything.

"I heard a reporter say that the hospitalisation is linked to high blood pressure due to an unconfirmed pregnancy," someone else added.

Charles sat down on his chair, he was lost in the sea of rumours, the uncertainty gnawing at him.

One of the engineers noticed the unease in the room and took charge. "Alright, people, let's focus. For whatever reason Matilde is hospitalised, it still doesn't change the fact that we will support her. Whatever is circulating out there, is just speculation. We will hear from her once she is ready. But we have a job to do, and that's what we'll do now."

Everyone shifted their attention back to the technical details, the debriefing starting, but Charles remained distracted. The rumours circulating about Matilde's conduction were like a storm in his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. As the debrief continued, Charles had ups and downs regarding his concentration. When he needed to be focused, he was focused, but when it wasn't about him, his mind drifted away.

Luckily for Charles, the debrief came to an end quickly. He had to find Max, perhaps he knew something more about Matilde. He walked to the Red Bull's hospitality like he had one goal and one goal only.

"What are you doing here?" Max confusedly asked, he was walking around with his dinner, trying to find a spot to eat.

"Matilde... Do you know if she's okay?"

Max glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. He signed to Charles that he could enter the cafeteria. They sat down in the corner of the area, where they had some privacy. "I don't have all the details, mate. But from what I've heard, it's serious enough that they're keeping it all under wraps. Toto and Christian were there when it happened, but even they are tight-lipped."

"But you are close to her..."

"I tried to call her, but her brother picked up the phone, not giving much information."

Charles felt a lump in his throat. "What do you think happened?"

"No idea. But you know Matilde, she's tough. She'll pull through."

Charles nodded, trying to hide the worry etched on his face. "But all those rumours," he breathed. "Stress, burnout, depression, clashes in the team. Maybe I'm the cause, maybe I pushed her to the limit and now she collapsed because I am a dickhead. And the rumours about an addiction, or unconfirmed pregnancy. I even heard that she had a miscarriage because of the stress I give her." He looked and sounded hopeless, a side Max hadn't seen of him yet.

"Don't blame yourself for things you don't know," Max replied.

"I just can't shake off this feeling that I could've done something differently."

"We all have those moments. But right now, she needs our support. If there's anything you can do, it's to stay focused on the race, keep the team together, and give her the strength she needs when she comes back."

Charles looked at Max, making eye contact, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and distress. "I hope she comes back."

"She will." Max observed Charles' body language. Charles had a hard time hiding his emotions, and the situation was taking a personal toll on him. Max could see that Charles genuinely cared about Matilde, and the worry for her well-being weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was a stupid thought, but perhaps that was the reason why Charles couldn't get along with Matilde.

"You care about her, don't you?" Max asked, his tone gentle.

Charles sighed, not attempting to mask his emotions. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, running his hand through his hair. "More than I probably should, given our position. She's my team principal. The entire team is, was, shocked, but they can handle it. I...I just can't stop thinking about the things I've done to her."

"She'll be fine. And none of this is your fault."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

[writing--whore]

Holding Out for a Hero

Pairing: Tangerine x (mafia daughter) Reader

Summary: After your bodyguard dies, Tangerine is assigned to protect you. He's not too happy about it and neither are you. But you get date raped while at a club and Tangerine comes to your rescue.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, date rape, sexual assault, the aftermath of that

Contains: Enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slight blood kink??, fighting kink??

“My job is to kill people, yeah? I’m not a fucking babysitter. Find someone else.”

Tangerine’s voice filtered up towards the balcony that overlooked the foyer. The ridiculously large angel statue kept you hidden as you crouched down to eavesdrop on that strange Englishman and your father. 

Brogues squeaked furiously on the marble floor and you peaked around the statue to see Tangerine pacing. Your father, Louie, wore a blank, serene expression as he watched Tangerine, hands clasped behind his back. It was never possible to tell what your father was feeling. 

“Al is dead.” Louie stated.

The pacing halted. 

“Yeah… I heard. I’m sorry. He seemed like a great guy.” The last sentiment seemed forced. 

Even you wouldn’t have labelled Al as a ‘great’ guy. Al had been decent. In all his years of service to you, you’d never grown attached to him. There was nothing to become attached to, his personality had been blander than plain porridge. 

Louie spoke, “It will only be temporary. While I find a more suitable replacement, you are the only person I trust to protect my daughter.”

Tangerine’s mouth opened to protest. He wanted to say that his skills lied in impossible missions, in executing too many people to count when the stakes were piled against him. He was not a bodyguard. But as he looked into Louie’s eyes - usually a dark, impenetrable slate - he spied a faint glimmer of vulnerability, a crack in his stone. That man had a weak spot. You were his whole reason for living. And Tangerine knew he would have to protect it.

“Oh for bollocks sake, fine.” Tangerine accepted the job.

~~~

You couldn’t say you were much more excited about the prospect than he was. Al faded into the background and most of the time, you forgot he was even there. You’d grown comfortable with that, with knowing what to expect. But you didn’t know anything about Tangerine, you’d never even spoken to him before. All you knew about him was his loudmouth that sent foul exclamations echoing around your house. You were very sceptical of his ability to fade into the background as well as Al had. 

Today more than ever, you hoped he wouldn’t be a problem. You’d been planning on going shopping for a dress as you’d been invited to go clubbing with your friends later. You’d been looking forward to it for a while and hoped that Tangerine wouldn’t mess this up for you. 

The man in question was waiting for you outside your door, arms folded across his chest in visible distaste. 

He spoke no words as he fell into step besides you, following you down the staircase to the entrance way. On instinct, you waited for your bodyguard to open the door for you, as Al had always done.

Tangerine looked between you and the ornate double doors, his brows drawing down in incredulity. He pulled open the heavy door for himself and walked through, allowing it close behind himself. A draft shot through, ruffling up your hair, and you let loose an agitated groan.

You shoved the door open and kept your shoulders straight as you strode over to the car. 

“Good day, madam.” Your chauffeur, Rodger, greeted you.

“I wish I could say that it was.” You retorted as you and Tangerine climbed into the car.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, love.” Tangerine commented, strapping his seatbelt in.

“Look I’m just as unhappy about the situation as you are, and-”

“Oh I’m not sure about that.”

“And there’s no need to be a dick.” 

You stared pointedly at him as the car rumbled to life. 

Tangerine shifted in his seat to face you. He was about to make a retort but you spoke before he could.

“I’m aware that you would much rather be out there busting kneecaps or making a knife disappear into someone’s chest, or…” An image of Tangerine forced its way into your mind. You pictured him looming over a pile of dead bodies, blood splattered across his entirety. “Or… whatever else it is that you do.” You swallowed thickly, “But it seems like we’re stuck together for now, so we might as well try to be civil.”

“Me? I’m perfectly civil. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You rolled your eyes and found your arms crossing over your chest - a mirror of his own. 

Well having him around was certainly going to be fun… 

He said nothing further and the silence allowed a chance for your shoulders to unwind. Towering buildings flowed past the window and into the centre of your attention. In front of the tall windows, people strolled by, carrying coffees, or walking their dogs - providing you with a welcome distraction (which lasted you the sum of a few short minutes). 

For as much as you hadn’t cared for Al, it was difficult to not think about his death. A heart attack, supposedly. But from the way Louie had hardly let you out of his sight recently, and the way the housekeeper, who had found Al’s body, seemed to stutter every time she spoke, you questioned whether that was true. 

Your hairs stood on end when you realised your father’s choice in hiring a psychopath might have been deliberate. Had someone killed Al? And was that killer now after you?

The mechanical drone of the car window switch drew you away from your thoughts. Cool air wafted through the window, dancing across your skin and sifting through your hair. An earthy smell, like cinnamon and citrus, carried on the breeze. You took a deep breath to inhale more of that smell, it brought you comfort like the warmth of sunlight reaching through the gaps in between tree branches. You stopped breathing entirely once you realised it was Tangerine you were inhaling. 

You dared a panicked side eye glance at Tangerine to see if he’d noticed but he was too busy looking out the window to have any idea. 

You jumped when the car rolled to a stop. 

“We have arrived, madam.” Your chauffeur announced.

You forced a smile, “Thank you, Rodger.” 

He turned to smile back at you. 

Danger or not, you kind of wished you had someone like Rodger as your bodyguard instead of this murder machine. At least Roger was nice. 

As you joined Tangerine on the pavement, you knew you were lying to yourself. A part of you was scared and that part of you found comfort in this stocky man who’s suit jacket was unable to hide the thick biceps that lay beneath. If you were going to be safe with anyone, it was (begrudgingly) Tangerine. 

Although, that fact alone was unable to stop you from letting the shop door go to close on his face.

Twisting your head over your shoulder, your smirk faded upon seeing his hand stop the quickly-swinging glass door before it could close on him. 

His glacial eyes stared daggers as he pushed through into the shop, they pinned you to the spot and made you realise how damned blue his eyes were. 

“I thought we were being civil?” 

“I am being civil.” You repeated his previous words with an easy smile and turned your back to him.

The store seemed to welcome you with its vast familiarity. And you had the whole place to yourself, besides the old woman who stood behind the checkout desk. They always closed the shop down for their number one customer. And this was your number one store. The most stunning designer dresses were stocked here; it wasn’t rare that you found pieces straight off the runway.

This shop was your safe space, you thought as your fingers trailed across the varying soft fabrics hanging from the rails. You took a deep breath. No looming danger nor Tangerine could ruin this for you. 

Your fingers paused at a velvet dress. Humming in concentration, you assessed its suitability. It was a midnight black dress with a high leg slit. That could very well be the dress. 

“Hold this for me, wouldya?” You tossed the garment at Tangerine.

Acting on reflex, he caught the dress mid-air, and then scoffed at being treated like your servant. He stared incredulously at the shop keeper, with a gaze that said: can you believe this chick? 

The shopkeeper returned a beady glare that said: don’t you dare drop that dress. 

Shaking his head, Tangerine turned his back to the both of them. This was hell. He couldn’t believe he was being forced to do this, to stand around playing obedient to some young girl. His experience of being tortured in Siberia after a failed mission was honestly preferable to this. 

Tangerine’s foot started to tap impatiently like a bouncy ball let loose on a drum. You purposefully chose to ignore him, leafing through garments at your leisure. A short dress in two different colours caught your eye and you held them both out. Head cocking to one side, you tried to determine which would best suit you. 

“They’re the same fucking colour, love. Get on with it.” 

Your head whipped over your shoulder to deliver your scowl to Tangerine. 

You snapped back, “Says the man wearing a suit in the perfect shade of blue to match his eyes.”

Tangerine was too taken aback by the fact you’d noticed that detail to come up with a reply. 

Fuschia pink began to flush your cheeks after having exposed how much attention you’d paid towards his eyes. You held your breath, waiting to get bullied. But Tangerine said nothing. Your blush faded before it could become noticeable. 

“Just don’t take all day, yeah?” He finally said. 

You rolled your eyes and put the maroon dress back. You couldn’t figure this guy out. Did he ever stop being a dick? The urge to be a dick back overcame you. Giving into your desires, you flung the burgundy dress at Tangerine’s head. It hit him square in the head and the back of it flopped over his face. 

You stifled a laugh.

For a good few seconds, he was too frozen to even rip the dress away from his face. He just stood there, vibrating with rage.

He tore himself free as you returned to looking through the clothes. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him staring the sharpest daggers you’d ever seen at you. 

Not looking up from the clothes rail, you commented, “You know, you should really look into getting some anger management classes?”

“YoU ShOulD rEalLy gEt AnGeR manAgEMenT clAsSeS.” He retorted in a mocking accent 

He stared at you in such an exaggerated display of disbelief and anger. It was somehow comical. He would make for a great cartoon character, you realised.

“Case in point.”

“Unbelievable.” He replied.

As you continued your hunt for the perfect dress, he paced around the store like an agitated zoo animal. Each dress that you liked, you threw at Tangerine. You even sent some dresses his way that you didn’t like, just to weigh his arms down.

When you didn’t think he could possibly take anymore, you slid the changing room curtain open. 

“Fucking finally.” 

He hastily dumped the clothes onto the diamante wall hooks. 

He shook his head again as he brushed past you out of the changing room.

“Fucking princess.” He exclaimed under his breath, not caring that you might be able to hear it. 

Hearing Tangerine call you ‘princess’ did things to you that you were not ready to admit. You tugged the curtain closed with a swoosh, and you decided that you were not going to analyse your feelings. Not today at least. 

Tangerine slumped into a leather chair next to the changing room. God, he needed to smoke. But Louie would kill him if he found out that he’d left his little girl alone for even a second. He was tempted to light one up in the store, tell that wrinkly sultana behind the counter to shove it. But he eyed the fuckton of water sprinklers lining the ceiling, and he decided it wasn’t worth it. 

The shop must be haunted and a ghost must have possessed you. There is no other explanation for why you swung the curtain open to show Tangerine how you looked in the first dress, the black velvet dress you’d picked out earlier. 

Your heart definitely didn’t sink when Tangerine looked you over dismissively. 

“What do you think?” You prompted.

“It looks alright.”

Your face flushed for an entirely different reason; his anger was infectious. You tried not to slam the curtain closed, you didn’t want it to be obvious how much that pissed you off. God, you craved his approval. You hated that, and you hated how your hands now flicked through the clothes in an attempt to find a dress that impressed him. 

You pulled on the next dress that was among your favourites. A silver dress with a plunging neckline. Again, you were met with a bored glance over. 

Fewer and fewer clothes were left to try on and you were beginning to think that Tangerine was saying ‘no’ to every dress purely out of spite. There was only one dress left that was among your favourite picks, the burgundy dress. It was short and silky, from the Fall Dolce and Gabbana collection. You’d left it as one of the last dresses to try on because it looked difficult to get into, with the corset detailing at the back. It would be a struggle to get into it yourself. 

Tangerine.” You called. “Can you help me?”

You heard a sigh and then footsteps that faltered just before the curtain. 

“You’re decent right?”

You replied, not entirely sure if wearing a half-done up dress was considered ‘decent’. “Yeah?” 

At the sight of your exposed back, he exclaimed “Oh for christ sake.”

He caught a glimpse of your dark underwear from where the corset hadn’t been tied tight enough. 

If Louie found out he was seeing his daughter like this… He would be shot. No, his fingers would be chopped off one by one, along with his teeth, along other ‘appendages’. And then he would be shot. 

“I’m not doing this.” 

He backed away to get the shopkeeper to help but you grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“She gives me the creeps.” You whispered under your breath.

In fairness, that old woman creeped him out a bit too. 

He craned his head outside of the changing room and stared through the glass door just to calm his paranoia that no one was watching. When he was fairly certain he wasn’t being followed, he drew the curtain closed. 

He focused solely on the black ribbon as his fingers tugged each strand tight, careful not to touch your skin. His cautiousness made him slow and it was your turn to grow impatient, but in an entirely different way. The warmth of his fingers danced so close to your skin and you wished he would slip up and actually fucking touch you. But he had perfect precision. Of course he did.

“How tight do you want it?” He asked.

“Tight.” You replied.

You steadied your hands against the mirror as he gathered the ends of the ribbons. In the reflection, you could see his great hulking frame leaning over you. You started to imagine doing an entirely different activity that involved Tangerine behind you and a mirror in front of you. The corset suddenly pulled tight, constricting your movements and your breathing. You never knew a corset could feel this kinky. 

Oh God. You wanted to tear your brain out of your head, give it a little bath and pop it back in again. You couldn’t believe you were having these thoughts about Tangerine of all people. Nope. You would analyse this another day. For now, you would pretend that a wetness wasn’t starting to gather in your pants imagining Tangerine tying a bow made of rope instead of ribbon.

“Too tight?” He asked, snapping you from your thoughts.

“No, No, it’s perfect.” You smiled as if you had a full lung capacity. You didn’t want to wound your pride by admitting he had overestimated the strength of your ribcage. 

Your eyes flashes nervously across the dress once you remembered your goal to impress Tangerine. Ruched lines ran along the dress, emphasising your breasts, your waists, your hips. It moulded to your body perfectly, making you feel like the million dollars that you are. 

When you realised Tangerine hadn’t said a single thing, you spun around to face him. 

“Well?” 

His eyes grazed along your body, betraying absolutely no emotion. But you noticed that his eyes struggled to meet your own, they shifted to the carpet before finally finding the courage to look you in the eyes.

“You look…” He faltered. “It’s a nice dress.”

You made no attempt to hide the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. 

[A/N: This is what I based the dress on but if the corset bit was at the back hehe]

~~~

When you met up with your friends, they glanced Tangerine up and down and then gave you a glance that said: well isn’t he attractive? 

Very surprisingly, he actually did disappear into the background. He was just a blue-jacket blur in your periphery, albeit a slightly agitated blur. Blessedly, as you began to forget he was there, as too did you start to forget about your feelings towards him.

Finally, you made it to the club and the hours sped by in a drunken haze. You enjoyed seeing your friends and being able to forget about everything for a moment. To just let loose and dance. 

Tangerine was starting to get extremely done with this night. He pulled his tie loose. Being surrounded by drunken idiots in a hot, dark and smelly room was beyond unpleasant. He itched for a drink or a cigarette so he didn’t have to cope with being sober for this bullshit. But, begrudgingly, he needed to stay sharp to keep an eye on you. Something he was growing extremely bored of. His head was leaned against his hand on the armrest of a sticky sofa, suit jacket draped over his arm. 

He’d been there for hours. And as your friends started to drop like flies, going home one after the other, he really thought you’d want to go home soon. But no. You continued to dance, with a seemingly endless well of drunken energy. It was just you and two other friends now. 

He had to admit your dancing had been shockingly good to begin with. But your movements had become sloppy and you even stumbled over your feet a few times, which you laughed off with your friends. Tangerine rolled his eyes. You were incredibly fucked. And he didn’t even see you drink that much. Lightweight. 

His head slumped further against his hand as he watched you twirl and giggle. He didn’t want to admit that part of the reason he felt so miserable right now was because he longed to be over there dancing with you, even if he thought the music was shit. 

He checked his watch. Right, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was 3 fucking am and he needed a cigarette. 

He strode over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

Shouting over the music, he spoke, “I’m going out for a smoke, alright?”

“Okay, have fun!” You beamed at him. 

He turned to your friends. They seemed a lot more sober than you. He looked between the two of them with a grave stare. “I’m going out for a few minutes. Make sure she’s okay, yeah?”

They looked between each other awkwardly, unused to your bodyguard approaching them, but nodded.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he picked up his pace as he headed for the alleyway. 

~~~

Something didn't feel right. Not as your vision started to swim. The outline of those around you started to fade and pulse, colours bled into each other. You squinted, trying to force your eyes into focus. Unfamiliar faces turned to look at you. Where had your friends gone? 

You forced a smile and carried on dancing to the best of your ability. This was fine. You were fine. Your friends would be around here somewhere, they’d find you soon. You just focused on dancing to the music and on keeping your breathing even. 

Your heart felt strange. You thought it would be racing with the panic rising in your chest. But it seemed to be slowing, which was somehow even more terrifying. 

Your eyes covertly scanned the club, desperately seeking out a friendly face. The lights flashed in your eyes, dazzling you with an overwhelming blur of colour. It hurt your head. Your eyebrows knitted together and you clenched your eyes shut. Everything was spinning. It was hard to think. It was hard to stand. 

A hand snaked around your waist, holding you upright. 

"Mmmm, thank you." You said, relieved by this sudden support. 

You twisted around to face this stranger and were met with a pang of terror that you couldn't place the source of.

The man’s face was a dark blot. As the overhead lights flashed in changing colours, you struggled to put a single label to his face. Attractive? Kind? He was a mess of blue, fading into green, flashing into red. You didn't recognise him. Had you expected to? 

It was too much for your drowning brain to process. You felt like a tiny insect beneath the claws of a predator. You tried to back away but your legs started to disappear from your grasp. You couldn’t feel them anymore, couldn’t control them. One of your heels gave out from under you and you stumbled backwards.

The man's grip followed you. "Don't worry, I've got you."

Your back hit something. The wall? Pain spread throughout your skull and you realise you must have whacked it on the plasterboard. Dizziness pounded in your brain. Folding forwards, you groaned and tried to hold your head. But the stranger grabbed your hands and placed them on his shoulders. 

"You're alright." He reassured, placing a hand on either side of your face. 

His thumbs stroked your skin and his eyes, whose colour you couldn't place, roamed across your face like he was devouring you. When he was finished using his eyes, his mouth delved towards your own. No. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t what you wanted. You don’t think so at least? It was hard to tell what was going on. Had you made the first move? 

The stench of cheap booze closes in around you and you feel vomit rise in your throat but not far enough to spew. His lips finally hit and an unknown terror surges through you, which only intensifies when you try to push him away but your hand slides down his shirt. He catches your wrist and places it back uselessly on his shoulder. 

You try to will your muscles into action but they melt away from your grasp. So much so that it takes no effort for his tongue to slide between your lips, like a knife sliding into butter. You can’t believe your body would betray you, to allow this man access to all that he wants. 

Stop, stop. You need it to stop. His hands roam your body, fondling your waist, groping your breasts. It feels like his fingers are leaving dirt and grime in their wake. You fear you will never be able to feel clean again. Tears prick at your eyes. 

"Stop. Please." You mumble against his mouth, barely coherent.

He didn’t care enough to make sense of your murmurs. No, even in your delirious state, you were able to figure out that this man was scum. You were able to realise that you were trapped within every woman’s worst nightmare. You had become another statistic, another victim, with no means to fight back against whatever he wished to do to you. 

A tight string of despair wrapped around your heart at the thought of what else he might be planning to do with you. 

~~~

Tangerine stamped out the embers of his cigarette butt.

A rancid wall of heat smacked him in the face once he reentered the club and he cringed. Wiping some sweat from his forehead, he scanned the club. The crowd was starting to die out. Not many people were left on the outskirts, and only the very front of the dance floor was still crowded. On a quick glance, he couldn’t seem to see you. Or your friends. Panic started to settle in his chest. 

He shoved through the remaining sweaty bodies. The panic wound tighter when you weren’t at the same spot he’d left you. You weren’t at the front of the dance floor. Some guy was knocked off balance and fell to the floor as Tangerine bulldozed his way back out of the crowd. 

“What the hell, dickhead?” The guy exclaimed.

His words disappeared into the music as Tangerine found you in the middle of an intense makeout session. Great, he’d gotten worked up over nothing. He collapsed back down on a nearby sofa, somehow even more agitated than before.

His eyes roamed the crowd and he was still unable to find your friends. Did they really leave you on your own? He shook his head. You needed better friends. 

His eyes kept snagging on you and that random dude but he tore them away, not wanting to invade your privacy. A peculiar feeling of jealousy and disgust washed over him. Someone as grubby as that shouldn't be kissing you. You were much too good for him. He couldn’t stop watching. He wasn’t sure why. At first he thought it was some masochistic desire to hurt himself after a very long day. But it wasn’t masochism that buzzed at the back of his mind. It was a hunter’s instinct. His eyes narrowed. 

You tried to turn your head away from the man but his hand brought you back to him. 

A coil snapped inside of Tangerine. His vision darkened at the edges. Everything faded away until there was nothing but him and that vile piece of shit. 

~~~ 

[A/N: I recommend listening to Holding Out for a Hero here. Original version; Bullet Train version]

In one moment, your world was a whirl of panic and disgust. In the next, a cool breeze rushed over you as the stranger was ripped away from you. 

You blinked away your confusion to see Tangerine. How had you forgotten about Tangerine? 

You sagged against the wall, relief flooding your body as you braced your palms against the cold surface. 

"You disgusting fucking cunt." Tangerine spat.

His hands were clenched in the front of the man's shirt, keeping him in place as he reeled his other fist back and cracked it against his nose. 

Your world fell into a sharp focus. You could actually see the guy's nose dislodge from where it was supposed to be, and could hear the sickening snap reverberate in your ears. 

Tangerine immediately followed through with another punch. A powerful bundle of muscles tensed beneath Tangerine's shirt as he threw the full force of his weight into the next punch. It hit the nose square on again, breaking it in a second direction. It would take a very expensive and very painful surgery to get that nose looking anything like it used to. 

"Shit man I wasn't going to do anything." He defended, putting his hands up to protect his face. 

"Bloody bollocks, mate."

Tangerine sent a powerful knee into the man's stomach. Doubling over, the man let out a pained wheeze. 

Tangerine allowed him no respite. He sent an uppercut to the man's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. The man threw a wild punch to protect himself but Tangerine dodged it with ease. 

Tangerine's hand curled in the man's hair and kept him still to deliver punch after punch. He showed no sign of letting up, not as the man’s face transformed into a bruised pulp, not as blood streamed from his nose and mouth, coating Tangerine’s knuckles vermillion. No, he was frenzied. His pupils shook within their glacial irises. His slicked back hair had become an unruly mess of curls. Raw power rippled off his every muscle, it emanated from his very being. 

His fist froze mid-air, breaking from his murderous trance, as he remembered that you were watching. He whipped his head to look at you, breath catching in his throat at the thought that he would find fear in your wide eyes. Fear of him. 

You swallowed hard under his scrutinising gaze. You were discovering so many new things about yourself today when you found yourself completely enamoured with the way Tangerine’s face looked with blood splattered across it. His visage unsteadied you, causing you to sway against the wall ever so slightly. 

Tangerine's fingers released from the man’s hair. He thudded to the floor as Tangerine rushed over to you, placing a hand on either shoulder to steady you. 

"Are you okay?" His eyes darted across your face.

You weren’t sure how to answer that question but found your head slowly shaking from side to side. 

There was something so comforting about the way Tangerine looked at you. It felt like you were being held. Tears welled in your eyes. 

Another wave of rage overcame him at the sight of your tears. 

"You despicable bastard." He exclaimed, unable to stop himself from turning to deliver a barrage of kicks to the man’s stomach. 

His foot disappeared again and again into him. The man was too focused on trying to breathe through the pool of blood surrounding the lower half of his face to fight back. 

In-between spluttered breaths, he cried out. “Stop! I’m sorry! Please stop.”

You could hear his trembling lips in the way he spoke. The pure terror in his voice made you feel a little sympathetic. But not enough to ask Tangerine to stop. 

His pathetic grovelling inspired another surge of rage through him. With a quick swipe of his foot, he twisted the man face down onto the floor. Not missing a beat, his foot cracked down onto the square of his back. You heard crunch after crunch of Tangerine’s foot coming down hard. You wondered if he’d ever be able to walk again. 

Once he was sure he’d covered the entirety of the guy’s spine, Tangerine pulled away. Releasing a shaky breath, he wiped his bloody hands on his shirt and then tried to set his hair back to some semblance of collectedness. 

When he was done, he held his hand out to you. Butterflies burst in your abdomen to be offered the hand of someone capable of such precise yet barbarous acts of violence. You took his hand gladly, fingers curling around his warm, calloused skin. 

He pulled you away from the wall and you threw yourself at his chest. As you breathed in his scent, there was no stopping the tears from streaming down your cheeks, dampening his shirt. 

Ignoring the traumatised stares of the patrons around him, he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. He wondered how on earth anyone would want to hurt someone as small and as fragile as you. 

With a gentle hand, he stroked your hair and spoke, "Let's get you home." 

~~~

Objects faded in and out of your world, all of them jarring, and none of them providing you with enough to hold onto before you were slipping away again. The glare of a streetlight rushed over you, and then another. You were lying down in the back of a car. Roger’s car. Your mind went suddenly blank and your heavy eyelids started to shutter. The sound of the rumbling engine curled around you like a blanket. The roar of a motorbike cut through you and you twitched hard, startling yourself awake. 

“Shhh, you’re alright.” Tangerine stroked your hair and you realised you were lying down in his lap. 

It was so hard to process anything. Your body felt weird like you weren’t really there. At the same time, everything was still spinning, twisting and turning around you, making you feel like you were going to fall away from the carseat and disappear into nothingness. You wrapped your arms around Tangerine’s waist and pressed your face tight against the warmth of his body. 

You focused on the rhythm of his fingers carding through his hair. It gave you something to focus on. Your fear of falling into the void slipped away. There was nothing but Tangerine’s expert fingers soothing you. 

~~~

You must have fallen asleep because the next time you opened your eyes, you found that you were tucked into bed. You still felt like shit. Your limbs felt floppy, your head pounded, and it was still an effort to form a coherent thought. 

In the muted amber light of your bedside lamp, you spotted Tangerine slumped in a chair he’d pulled closer to your bed. You smiled when you noticed that he was a quarter of the way through one of your favourite books. He must have stolen it from your shelf. 

Your smile widened when you realised Tangerine must have carried you here from the car. You wished you’d been conscious during that experience, to feel fully supported by those strong arms. 

“You’re awake.” He noticed. 

His anxious eyes combed over to see if you were okay and one of his brows quirked upwards upon noticing your smile.

“Did you have a good dream?” He asked.

Averting your gaze, you replied, “I guess you could say that.”

“How are you feeling apart from that? Can I get you anything?”

Propping some pillows behind your back, you sat up in bed. You immediately regretted it when your head started to pound. 

“Maybe some water.” You replied.

“I got you a glass already.” He pointed towards the bedside table 

“Oh, thank you.” You said, reaching over to take a sip. 

You tried not to gush over how sweet it was he’d already thought to get you water. Instead, you concentrated on trying to come up with an answer to his question about how you were feeling. Memories of what happened came rushing back and the smile died on your face.  

“I’m- erm- I’m not feeling great.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

You didn’t think you could handle processing what happened right now. 

You replied, “maybe later.” 

He nodded. 

An uncomfortable silence settled over the two of you, both unsure of what to say in this situation. You drank some more water.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. “I can’t believe I fucking left you.”

He didn’t meet your eyes when he spoke. His gaze was fixed on a spot of carpet in the distance. Memories of what happened replayed in his head. He had been trusted to be your bodyguard and on his very first day, he’d let something horrific happen to you. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, despising himself. 

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.” You wished he was closer so you could offer some physical comfort, touch his shoulder or something, anything. 

“Nah, you’re too nice, love. I fucked up.”

The amber lamplight cast a soft shadow across one half of his face. In the gentle light, he seemed like an entirely different person. He seemed softer. 

He continued, “I promise it won’t happen again.” 

His eyes finally met your own. Sincerity turned his eyes a pale, watery blue. You wanted to swim in them.

“Oh and one more thing.” He interjected, his eyes darting away from you again. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out at the club. I know I went a little overboard with the-”

“No.” You interrupted. “No, not at all. Honestly I think he deserved worse than that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean that? Because I can have that arranged.”

People had joked about hurting people for you before, like when your friends offered to kill your shitty ex boyfriend. It was jarring to realise that Tangerine wasn’t joking. Picturing Tangerine hurt that man in such slow and sadistic ways stirred something within you. 

“Honestly… Yes.”

“Consider it done.” A frown dawned upon him. “I never pegged you as the murderous type.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. A lot of people in this house see me as nothing more than a spoiled mafia brat.”

Tangerine looked down at his hands. He may or may not have assumed that of you. 

You continued, “and I’m willing to bet you’re more than just a mafia thug.”

All people ever saw in him was a killer. Letting people believe that kept people at a distance from him. Distance was safe. 

Distance was lonely.

He met your eyes, truly met your eyes. While you were beginning to see this other side to him, he too was truly seeing you for the first time. You felt so thoroughly seen by him too. 

An agonising throb of pain spread throughout your skull. With a small groan of pain, you reached up to soothe your headache. 

“Y/N.” He exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep.”

“Oh, erm, yeah. I should leave and let you rest.”

He lifted from the chair and panic stung your nerves. 

“Actually” you stammered, “can you stay?”

“Of course.”

He settled back in his chair as you got comfy in bed. Now that you were left in silence, your feelings started to seep into you. It was an indescribable feeling, some Frankenstein’s monster made of the body parts from dread, loathing and grief. Your heart somehow physically hurt. 

“Tan…” You found yourself mumbling before you’d even thought about it.

“Hmmm?”

“Can you… come here.”

He crouched at the side of your bed. “What do you need?”

“I erm… I know it's a lot to ask. But could you lie in bed with me? Sorry, I just, erm…” 

You didn’t know how to explain your sadness and how you didn’t think you could face it alone. 

“I understand.” He gave a small smile of reassurance. “Of course I can lie next to you.”

You released the breath you realised you’d been holding. “Thank you.”

You shuffled over and he climbed awkwardly into bed next to you. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable so he lay down as close to the edge as possible. 

You craved his warmth and silently begged that he was closer. But you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. So you turned your back to him, in the hopes that he would feel more at ease without your face turned his way with the potential to watch him, to see him. 

A slight warmth tickled your back. At least you could still feel that he was there, that you had someone watching over you. It was enough to quiet the pain. It was enough to sleep. 

“Goodnight.” You spoke.

“Goodnight.” He replied, straining to turn out the light.

~~~

You found yourself waking up again a few hours later. Only this time your head was on Tangerine’s chest and his arm was wrapped around you. You lifted your head and found him sound asleep, mouth slightly ajar, releasing breaths that ruffled the ends of his moustache hair. A smile warmed your lips at the sight of him. 

You knew you would have to process what happened at the club soon. That a seemingly unbearable amount of pain lay in wait for you. But for now, you chose to close your eyes and listen to Tangerine’s steady heartbeat. And finally, you fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Those who may be interested: @tangerinesgf @poetic-fiasco @earth-elemental18 @addie0ffset @peachyspaceslvt @amyg1509 @whiskykisses

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 2 (episodes 1-5)

Episode 1 - Monsters and Chimeras

I didn't mention it in the liveblog of season 1, but I think it is probably common for a person in a group of adventurers to be a scribe/quest journal keeper.

(putting on a crepinjurgenite tinfoil hat) We know that Kerubim keeps one canonically, and that as a child Joris liked scrap booking, so my headcanon is as follows:

While travelling alone, Joris keeps a private travel journal nobody is allowed to read (it has: drawings and photos of views he found beautiful + quick sketches of maps and notes on environment to refine at home (HE'S CANONICALLY INTO CARTOGRAPHY, BESIDES PHOTOGRAPHY) + he gets sappy&mentally ill about it all, so it's cringe to him.) (Unsurprisingly, it never contains any sensitive political data or his objectives, and if he does need to write something like that down, he tears that page out asap)

Atcham doesn't keep journals as a rule (having a literal paper trail might reveal to the investigators the location where he hid the bodies)

While travelling as a group, Kerubim keeps the journal, and it's a pretty pragmatic one (for him. He writes down the most random things, from important info, to actual fucking recipies he learned and personal notes à la "NOTE! next morning after we exit the tavern i should buy tangerines. i think Joris is beginning to suffer vitamin C deficiency but is keeping silent about it as usual"). Unlike Joris, he isn't into photography or doodling, HOWEVER, he will purposefully ask Joris to take photos and draw maps/landmarks in that journal. Because Joris is good at it. (And because he has had a folder of Joris's art through ages 4-600 in a hidden room in the house, all framed and sorted alphabetically, and he NEEDS more items in the collection.)

Episode 2 - Rubilaxia

It was mentioned at the end of the previous episode that Eva would be making her way through the Cania plains, and I am glad the series shows us at least one of the unique rocks found in Cania.

I don't know why, but it feels nice when the games and the cartoons represent the same place the same way. That's why I'm pointing that out.

Episode 3 - Remington Smisse

(coughs) This sword appears in episode 1 of the critically acclaimed (and worldwide-beloved) show under the name "Dofus: Aux Tresors de Kerubim"

Once again, the show has been planting seeds for Adamai's joker arc for its entire run, and still managed to squander it during season 3.

I have never seen a show fumble the bag that bad, I'm sorry.

Episode 4 - The Return of Percedal

Big believer in rubitristeva. A family can be a dad and swdad (sword dad) and a mom.

Episode 5 - The Dragon Pig

Wakfu Cannibalism Counter: 1

The reason I point this out is that, with every instance of inter-adventurer cannibalism in canon, the chance that Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham have tasted human flesh (outside of Waven) grows.

On the topic of Waven Cannibalism Lore, strangely, porkassess, AKA the pig people who are stuck in a mutual cannibalism war with Bonta under Joris's rule (technically not cannibalism because they are a different sentient species from twelvians, similar to goblins and bworks, but I doubt it's much better...) worship the minor god Ougah (who is a mushroom)

It is unknown (at least, to me) what the hell the Dragon Pig is.

But he is definitely tasty.

While they were busy grinding their professions and doing pizzlarva quests, he was dungeon crawling with his guild.

Also, let me be real, the whole conflict of "boo-hoo, nobody respects Tristepin" is random, mean-spirited, and out of character, inserted into the show simply to create conflict. Tristepin got resurrected after weeks of them thinking he was dead. They should not, logically, treat him this way (at least yet).

Reasons I think Dragon Pig might be an immortal, perpetually reincarnating/perpetually killed porkass: Does this to a person who lives in areas surrounding Bonta.

[sebsbarnes]

13 weeks || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: it was a quiet night when the walls of your apartment learned that the two of you had fallen for the other

warnings: none

word count: 800

masterlist

a/n; this ached at my heart bc this is actually something that happened to me but in the end the guy was a horrible person! lol!

"it's stupid but, i wanted to give you this," you said handing him a letter and a small box. the letter was scrawled with words you wrote with a tender heart confessing how you will miss him dearly in the three months he will be away and that you can only hope that the deep connection you've made as friends will not change with the lack of communication in the months he is gone. and though unwritten, you knew he was observant enough to understand the underlying meaning of your words. the two of you knew you had feelings for the other no matter how hard you played it off as being friends. you left the note with a small 'p.s' and instructed that in the small box was a film camera that he needed to use to document his travels since he opted to remain offline and not take pictures. you pleaded that when he returns he must show you all the places he has been to.

tangerine raised an eyebrow at you, grabbing the items from your hand and sitting down at the kitchen table. your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you watched his eyes run across the page reading the cursive ink. you saw as his lips twitched into small smiles throughout the note before putting it down and examining the box. he went silent, no trace of emotion on his face. without saying a word he stood up and walked in front of your now sitting figure and forced you up into a hug.

your heart was beating so hard and fast that you could feel yourself getting light-headed. the drumming in your ears made his voice sound muffled. you were nervous, beyond nervous, and for what reason? was it because you two were finally hidden behind the walls of your apartment away from the world and the lingering eyes? or was it because after all this time you finally let your walls crumble down and allowed yourself to fall for the man who had now pulled you into the tightest yet most comforting hug you had ever experienced? his arms were wrapped securely around your shoulders with his head resting gently on top of yours.

"i can feel your heart beating," he whispered.

you let out a slight laugh, embarrassed at the way your heart pounded for him, "i know."

he pulled away from the hug but his hands rested at your waist. he looked at you briefly, his eyes looking into your own, before he leaned forward and kissed you. it was gentle at first, lips moving softly against each other. it was everything you had imagined for the last few months. the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands gripped at your skin, the feeling of your heart seeming to burst. but all at the same time you couldn't believe it. it felt too good to be true and that when you woke up from your daydream, his skin would no longer be on yours and the smell of his cologne vanished.

you came back to reality when his hands abandoned your waist and moved to cup your face. he was kissing you with fervor now, teeth accidentally clashing every so often. you would bite his bottom lip and teasingly pull away causing him to moan lightly. it made you dizzy. you two stumbled backward towards the staircase, giggling between kisses as you tripped up the stairs since you refused to stop kissing. you would make it to your bed with loving smiles flashing at the other because it all felt right and you two finally decided to let your walls down.

despite not knowing where the next few months will take you both, you didn't regret any decisions that night. you knew in the long run you would've regretted not giving him the letter, not hugging him back, not kissing him, and not wandering upstairs with him, which is why you did all of that. each day since he left you would wish for your phone to buzz and see his name grace your screen, though it never came.

it would be 13 weeks later when he showed back up in your life unannounced. when you saw him from across the room you felt sick. the color vanished from your face and it was as though a ghost took your place. the walls of your chest constricted in on your heart only allowing it to pump up and down in the smallest of spaces. the feeling of your stomach twisting itself into a knot was as if you feasted on spoiled food. it was overwhelming. but much like that night 13 weeks ago you knew how you felt and the distance did nothing to change it.

[qvrcll]

college melodrama — V.

summary: ellie survives with a bruised lip and a throbbing pain that keeps her awake in her own bed. abby is elsewhere and of little care to you — you are beside ellie and nursing her wounds. tender touches lead to tenderer tellings and something worth recalling, perhaps.

warnings: injuries mentioned, food / medicine mentioned, just fluff, some angst but let’s be honest, it will be drowned out by the fluff 🫶🏽

a/n: part five and can i just say… THE POLL RESULTS ARE MAKING ME CREASEEEE. we love to see it! i love ya abby but you went too far… also my old divider stopped working for some odd reason :( + sorry for the slow updates, life has been brutally interruptive. anyhow, hope you enjoy this :-]

You’re tapping your feet anxiously beside the cotton of Ellie’s comforter the next time Dina checks in. Some part of you jumps from the familiar sound of the notification, but you put your good faith in Dina. You’re still shaken from the party’s brutal givings — besides Ellie’s bruised lip and cruddy looking jaw, the fight had taken flame amongst the entire college. From videos to whispers, you can feel the tension tenfold when you enter a room. People are nice enough to ask how Ellie is, but not nice enough to keep their eyes from telling.

You’d left her room when the messages rolled in, so it was safe to say that Ellie couldn’t hear the squelch of your heart playing in your throat right now. She couldn’t hear the deafening plea in your lungs drying the substance there, robbing it of the air that was. But she’s quick to realise, quick to ease you of your worries. You feel stupid, feel bad for even being upset but seeing her this battered and bruised hurt the world beneath your eyelids.

She knows all the right things to say and you’re really too hopeless to stay this way. You realise you’re unknowingly blaming Ellie for what’s transpired and make quick work of assuring her that no, it’s not her. It’s you and your dumb, full, thudding heart that is tipping over depravity. For her. But Ellie’s message makes you stop, makes you think. Makes your fingers shake as she loses her mind over her own recklessness with her feelings.

This is tipping close into uncharted territory. Into something of a ruse or something… warm and blanketed. Into something you’ve both hidden. But you’re not sure and Ellie is second guessing every bit of your letters, words, sentences. She’d rather have a shockwave plummet her to death than to lose you to her feelings. But if you were to be the same, she’d only dare to fall, no?

It’s an easy route to her dorm room. With her injury, prone to Abby, it had been a frequent endeavour and now, you were quite literally soaring through different altitudes. Savouring sweeter tastes. Hoping for something you’re sure you haven’t lost your mind to gain.

“Ellie?” your hand is on the door knob and the creaky, old thing flits back to allow you some space inside.

I’ve done this before, so many times. Why is it so much harder now?

“Y/N?” her voice comes softer, like the feel of peeled tangerines, in the commodity of her humble dorm. As you glance up, she’s standing in her flannel jacket, comfortable and so much like the reason as to why your heart is unrelenting in this very moment. But you can’t do this without surety — can’t do this without reason and lose half your mind with it too.

You step forward. It’s the right thing to do. You convince yourself that much, and whatever truth there is in that, is only helping you steer clear of what’s… meant to be yours, “You feel any better?”

“Y… Yeah. Totally. See,” she points ardently to the flesh that has begin to heal against her lip, “Already good. On the way… to be good, I hope.”

This is endearing, you think.

“And good, you will be, Ellie,” you reply, feet lambent against her floors, as you take her hands in yours in a complete show of camaraderie. But underneath the flesh and bone of it all, there’s something raw and pulsing there. Something alive and aware of consequences. Aware of a few of things. Curious of a lot more.

Curious of her hands.

Curious of her lips.

Curious of the row of hairs above her neck.

And of so, so much more.

“Is there… something else… you wanna say?” she suddenly asks. Rips the breath out of your lungs as her hands work to shield yours in some tight grip. Certainly not camaraderie. It’s something sacred in a nuanced sense; a telling? Or maybe one of her hidden shows of affections? But you need to try. Have to.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“When have I, Ellie, ever been wrong?”

“Dickhead. I won’t tell you now.”

“No, wait, hey! I’m sorry!”

You purse your lips, bite and swallow and throw away the smile that burdens them. But a ghost of it remains anyhow and she’s teeming with hope too, you see now. Something illusive made seen with her curiosity. She’s twice as nervous and holding you tighter and… leaning in.

Fuck.

Your lips meet slower than expected. Your nose budges against her cheek. Her teeth taste like oranges and medicine and raw, hot, scary love. Her hands are in your hair and you push the speed of them to match her—

“Ow. Ouch,” she bites her groans of pain, still holding you close. You shudder, afraid suddenly of the truth that she’s still not fully healed, “My lip… it’s just…”

“I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t be. Please?” she whines and her eyes are pouring into yours and you see her past the line you’ve always drawn between the two of you. It disappears till you can no longer smell it in the air anymore. Nothing to stop you anymore. Nothing to be afraid of anymore.

“Okay. Okay,” you laugh against the flannel of her shirt and she coughs out a laugh, the light in her smile, “but you’re going back to bed! Heal, first. Kiss me later?”

“Mmm. Promise you won’t leave?”

“When have I ever?”

“Right” her spit of auburn hair seeps against her ears and despite your words, her lips cut the skin of your cheek anyways. Light, airy, yet leaving with the air of your lungs. You curse comically as she laughs, exits to her room, and you’re doing your best to follow when suddenly…

You hadn’t blocked her. Everything is redrawn and spilt in red. Anger, confusion and curiosity is alive in you when suddenly you become aware. Aware of your buzzing phone. Aware of the back of Ellie’s figure as she retreats to bed. Aware that whatever has started has yet to be resolved.

THE DECISION IS UP TO YOU: YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[taglist: @theganymedes @nil-eena @ximtiredx @inf3ct3dd @oceanparadox @cjrights @eveshyper @sosobaker @hsangel64 @zombie-catz @twsmalie @badbye666]

[chenelle-solily]

Today was a Bad Day (Sanji/Zoro WIP)

A/N: Here's a sneak peek to a Sanji/Zoro one shot I'm working on! It'll be done sometime this week.

CW: Mild angst and references to PTSD

Summary: Even after Whole Cake Island and finally scorning his Vinsmoke name, Sanji still has bad days. Today was one of them. Unluckily, Zoro appears at the worst moment.

Most days were good days. Today was a good day. Sanji slept all night, not being woken up by Usopp’s snores and Luffy didn’t sneak into his bed. He didn’t have any nightmares, which was rare. Breakfast was especially delicious, the fish grilled perfectly and the mangos gathered from a deserted island made a sauce that was both tangy and sweet, neither flavor overwhelming the other. Nami was as stunning as always, and Robin was just as beautiful. Even the weather was good as if God wanted Sanji to have a perfect day. He deserved it too, Sanji selfishly thought. After so many endless terrible days, he thought one or two good ones wouldn’t hurt. 

But maybe it was because today was such a good day that when things became bad, it really became bad. It was like dropping straight from heaven to hell. One minute, everything was amazing, then the next, nothing was okay. There was no particular reason either. Most of the time, Sanji could point out the moment his mood shifts. Sometimes he would be in a dark room that felt a little bit too close to a prison, or maybe he would see a man that looked like Judge. But there was nothing like that today. 

Sanji was preparing dinner in the kitchen, a cigarette sitting in his mouth, excited about Nami and Robin’s reactions to his new creation of fried octopus soaked in mango and tangerine juice when an avalanche hit him. Everything turned dark and suffocating. His body went cold, but sweat swelled on his hands. He couldn’t move, the knife hovering over a tentacle, as if time stopped. Any happy thought smothered away, allowing all those memories to rise and swell until they filled his body to the brim, searching for a way to burst out. 

Most days were good days. Today wasn’t a good day. 

Because Sanji was the crew’s chef, and because didn’t want anyone to know that he was one bad moment away from breaking down, he finished the meal, told the crew it was ready, and then made a probable excuse to hide himself away in the men’s quarters. He didn’t want to be alone, especially not in a small, cramped room, dimly lit by overhanging lights. It was far too close to the prison he grew up in. Even the horizontal wooden boards on the wall were starting to look like metal bars, and the ocean smell seeping in could’ve been mistaken for damp stone. But it was better than the alternative: the crew being burdened by him. 

Sanji sat on the sofa, head in hands, fingers running through his hair. He bit his lip and tried to calm himself down. He took deep breaths, pushing the memories further into the back of his mind, but that only seemed to make him sink further into the darkness. Soon, he was left alone with no light, and nothing but the memories of when he was a kid. Those days in that prison, forced to wear that itchy, cold mask stretched endlessly across his eyes. They consumed any other memory. His mom, those times Reiju would visit him, Zeff, and the crew: all of it was toppled by years of sitting on cold, hard stone. 

The door creaked open and a sliver of light rushed into the dim room, making it seem much more alive. “Oh, it’s you,” Zoro said. He stood in the doorway, his strong silhouette outlined by the light, the green of his coat like the leaves of a ginkgo tree. 

Sanji glanced up, irritation growing in him. A bad day could only become even worse with such an annoying presence.

“What’s that mean?” Sanji said, trying to pretend as if everything was normal and that he wasn’t being drowned by his past.

Zoro took a step forward, his boot heavy against the wood. “Nothing.”

“What are you doing here?” Sanji wanted Zoro to leave, and fast. Zoro would only mock him for still not getting over his past even though it had been years.  He would make fun of Sanji’s weakness. 

“It’s the men’s quarters, not Sanji’s quarters, last I checked.” Zoro walked to his locker and dug through it, pulling out a bottle of sake.

“Why aren’t you at dinner?” Sanji could feel irritation build up in him. There was no reason for it, but it still grew nonetheless, only worsened by Zoro’s presence.

“I wasn’t that hungry.”

“So you just left your food to waste?” Everything was suffocating again, and Sanji couldn’t breathe. He inhaled, felt the oxygen rush up his nose and inflate his lungs, then just as quickly deflate as carbon dioxide rushed out, but he wasn’t breathing.

Zoro glanced at him. “Don’t worry, I gave my portion to Luffy.”

“That’s not the point!” Sanji jumped to his feet. “Do you know how many people would’ve killed for a meal like that, and you just left it!”

It hurt. It so fucking much that Sanji didn’t know what else to do but yell and hope his pain would be carried out by his voice.  

“Relax,” Zoro said, though his voice was oddly quiet.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell me to relax! I—” Sanji’s voice choked as tears burned his eyes. He turned around, hoping Zoro didn’t see, trying his best to keep them from bursting out.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Sanji didn’t respond. He closed his eyes, hoping they’d seal away his tears forever, and he hoped that if he closed them hard enough, those memories would, too, forever be locked away. But when he opened them, tears fell down his face and those memories became all he could think of.

“Didn’t you hear what I—Shit, are… are you crying?” Zoro walked in front of Sanji, staring at him with a face that Sanji had never seen before. He looked almost concerned.

Sanji wiped his face and looked away. “No! I—” But he couldn’t get any further with his throat being blocked off by his tears.

“Fuck. Look. I’m sorry, okay?” Zoro said, panicked. “I’ll go back upstairs right now and eat dinner, so… so don’t cry.”

Sanji was so shocked that the tears stopped. “Are you an idiot?” Sanji rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. “You know what, I already know the answer. Just go upstairs and eat.”

But Zoro didn’t move. He stared at Sanji with that same, concerned look, which made him suddenly aware that he just cried in front of Zoro, of all people. Embarrassment rose inside of him, and shame quickly mixed in with all of the other negative emotions like the most fucked up smoothie ever. 

Sanji took a deep breath, hoping he could keep his voice steady. “Get out of here already.” Zoro made no attempt to move. “What’s wrong?” The moment of shock was washing away, allowing the memories to flood in again, this time much louder. It was as if Sanji was back in the prison again, his tears irritating his face just as the metal mask did, the distant sound of the ocean just like the one he’d used to hear as the Germa Kingdom moved from one ocean to the next.

“Nothing.”

“You’re shaking.”

Sanji gripped his arm, not even aware he was trembling. “It’s nothing, really.”

Zoro stared at Sanji for a second longer, before plopping himself onto the couch. “Fine. It’s nothing.” Zoro unscrewed the cap to the sake, took a long sip, then held it out for Sanji. “Want a drink?”

Sanji wanted to say, “I’d rather be alone,” but it was a lie, and at that moment, he couldn’t muster the power to lie, so he grabbed the bottle from Zoro, drank the burning, gross liquid, and sat. Neither of them spoke as they passed the bottle between each other. In the distance, they could hear the rest of the crew during their rambunctious dinner, Luffy’s laughter floating above the rest of the voices. It was comforting, far from the silence of the prison.

“They’re loud,” Zoro said, then took a drink of sake.

“It’s not too bad. I don’t mind it.”

“I never said it was bad. Just that they’re loud.” Zoro handed the bottle to Sanji. He grabbed it, his hand accidentally wrapping around Zoro’s. It was surprisingly warm, far different from the cold air. Far different from the cold stone of his prison.

Sanji quickly yanked his hand back. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling strangely embarrassed. 

Zoro stared at Sanji, a gray eye locking onto blue ones. Sanji prepared for him to yell at him or say something about touching him, and Sanji tried to quickly think or a retort, maybe something about not wanting to touch such rough, calloused hands, or that he was too warm, like a fire, but none was needed, because what Zoro said was so completely unexpected that Sanji couldn’t even comprehend a response.

“Your eyes are really pretty when you cry,” Zoro said. Sanji stared at him blankly, which caused red to sprout on Zoro’s cheekbones, the color of autumn leaves. It was cute, or it would’ve been if it was on a woman, and not Zoro. “I just, I mean, the red made your eyes really pop, is all. Nothing but an observation.”

His sudden fluster made Sanji nervous. “I-I know what you mean.”

And that's all I have for now ;-; I plan to post sometime this week, hopefully Friday (1/5). It is a planned smut, and ofc, a bottom Zoro fic.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HEY HEY HEY so I’ve never requested anything before bc I’m new to tumblr and idk if this is even where I’m supposed to request thing so if i’m wrong then I sincerely apologise.

BUT, if I am then slay I have a funky idea for a tangerine fic that I think you would write so well :)

So I saw you said you’re British but idk if you ever went to a youth club? Like where they have 5-12 year olds come for group games in a sports hall and they do arts and crafts and play with the big rainbow parachute thing on the ground?? Well anyhoo I’ve been stuck on this non hitmen au where I can see reader being one of the leaders who takes the club and usually lemon is the other one, but for whatever reason, maybe like a recreational injury, he needs tangerine to fill in for a few weeks. So this is reader and tan meeting for the first time other than Lemon mentioning him and obviously Tan isn’t used to being around kids and is a grumpy dude and doesn’t know how to talk to them while playing the games but reader finds it funny because she knows them all well. Some funny Tangerine and kiddio interactions results in him catching her attention and the two become better friends while the group are away with the arts and crafts leader. Maybe they get up to some interesting stuff after a few weeks in the sports supply store room?? I just think it’s a fun little thing and the idea gives me nostalgia because if my old youth club lol

HI HI HII!! don’t worry you did it right! okay so, for this I had too many ideas (as it felt so nostalgic to write) I kinda added too much but not enough and feel as though it may not make any sense (like I waffled) I really loved this idea and don’t know if I did as well as I could’ve. but thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

uncle lemon’s brother

tangerine x f reader

wc || 1.2k

warnings || none

masterlist + rules

taglist

Most days, you worked at the local youth club, where you'd lead all sorts of fun activities for the kids. Whether that be arts and crafts, sports in the indoor hall or nature walks, whatever it was that kept the kids entertained, you did it. 

Luckily you have a work partner that helps lighten the weight of the kids' intense energy. He's much like a child himself, so he fits in perfectly. When he first joined several months back, the kids gave him a nickname before he could even introduce himself, naming him Lemon, well, Uncle Lemon. There was no reason behind the nickname other than it was 'funny'.

You and Lemon were quite a pair when handling the kids. You had worked out a system that allowed the children to do as much as possible in the short time you had available. You'd lead the artsy sessions, and Lemon managed the sporty activities. 

Last week, during one of the after-school sessions, Lemon ironically injured his wrist on one of the climbing apparatuses while on lookout duty. So for his temporary replacement, he asked his brother to fill in. You've never met his brother before, only hearing bits of him when Lemon would share stories or memories. You were a little uncertain if he would be a good substitute considering how much of a grump he was described as. 

-

Today is his brother's first day, so you were patiently waiting by the front desk to give him a quick tour before the kids arrived. Hearing a car pull up out front, you hastily organise the schedule for this afternoon, flicking through the papers as you make your way to the entrance.

"Hey, 'lright?" the man greets, extending a hand.

"Hi," you reply, shaking his hand as you hold his intense eye contact. "You're Lemon's brother, right?"

"Yeah-- Lemon?" he questions, his head slightly cocking.

Snickering. "Yeah, the uh- kids gave him that nickname when he joined. Clearly, it's stuck. How is he doing, by the way?"

"So dramatic," he scoffs. "Acting like he broke his whole body. Can't believe the knob-- sorry, the idiot broke his wrist on a climbing frame," he snickers, following after you. 

"Yeah, that sounds about right," chuckling. 

-

It took a little time for Lemon's brother to settle into his new role. It was quite clear that he was not used to being around kids, but as the afternoon went on, he grew more comfortable, and his demeanour began to change. Soften, even.

He was 'coaching' a game of dodgeball while you entertained the eliminated kids, telling them stories until the next round. 

"Bob..." a little boy asks, lightly tugging on your hand.

"We're still calling me 'Bob'?" you question, your features playful as you act displeased. "But, yes, munchkin. What's up?" you ask, ruffling his hair.

"What should we call him?" he asks, blatantly pointing across the hall.

"I think something funny," someone else adds, giggling.

"I think we should call him turd man,"

"Turd man?" you entertain, pretending to be disgusted. "That's so disgusting."

"I like turd man,"

"Me too," another adds.

"Mr Grump,"

"Don't forget he's Lemon's brother, so we should call him something similar?" you prompt, trying to ease them into a less disgusting name. 

"BANANA," a young boy calls out, practically jumping in excitement.

"Apple,"

"Orange,"

"Lemon number two,"

"Oh, how about something citrus-like. Something sour, maybe?" you chuckle, occasionally catching eyes with the new replacement across the way.

"Satsuma," a little girl calls out, pulling the small orange from her shoe.

"Sweetie, that's a tangerine," you smile.

"That's a good name,"

"We should call him that,"

"Please can we call him that, Bob?"

"Please..."

"Hm, I don't see why not," you laugh, ushering the kids along to join in the new game.

"Tangerine," a young girl calls out, rushing over.

"Tangerine!" another screams. 

"Why the calling me that?" he whispers, his head hung low as he leans towards you. 

"Ask them," you snicker, talking close to his ear. "Could be worse. They call me Bob,"

"Okay, yeah, you're right. That's much worse," he chuckles. "'lright," he claps, gathering the kids together. "We got time for one more game, ain't we, Bob?"

Grinning. "Yeah, I think so, Tangerine."

After one quick game of dodgeball later, you, Tangerine and the kids walked back to the main rec room to wind down before hometime. All sat in a circle as you all took turns to share your favourite part of the day.

"Where are you from, Tangerine?" a little boy asks, picking his nose as he poked him with his free hand.

He turns to look at you, his features begging for help as he leans away from the bogey picker. "Um... from my house,"

"Me too,"

"And me,"

"I'm from Poland,"

"Me too,"

"My daddy is from Ireland,"

"Where is that?"

"Near Spain,"

"No, that's an island,"

"You're wrong,"

Listening to all the kids blabber on, you face Tangerine, masking a snicker when you see his exasperated expression. "Hang in there," you mouth, a smile pulling on the corners of your lips. 

Playing along, he checks the time on his watch. "Almost there," he whispers. 

As the days went on, Tangerine grew a lot more comfortable with the kids, and he looked as though he was starting to enjoy his time with them. There was something so endearing about seeing a burly, attractive man acting so juvenile while entertaining kids, how soft and gentle he could be while speaking to them. 

-

The two of you had spent lots of time together over the last couple of weeks, hanging out and chatting whenever there was a moment free. Tangerine was very slow to warm up, very reserved, but once you got past the first layer, you realised just how decent a person he is. 

The kids had just left for the day, so you and Tangerine had to pack away the equipment in the sports cupboard that was left out.

"Hey, pass us that, would ya?" he asks, nodding to the bag of balls behind you. 

"The ballbag?" you grin, reaching over the messily organised area. "You gotta say it. That's the rule round here," you joke.

"Ballbag," he says flatly, extending a hand. "Now give it," 

"Yeah, one min, my legs stuck,"

"Stuck?"

"Yeah," you sigh.

"Don't move. I'll come help," grinning.

"You're a funny man,"

He parts the boxes to the side as he makes his way over to you, moving the equipment out of the way so he can crouch to the floor beside you. His hand is warm and firm as he grips your ankle, slowly guiding it from the crack, looking up at you. 

He coughs in his fist, clearing his throat. "There we go," he says, glancing away from your admiration-filled gaze.

Clearing your own throat, awkwardly looking away. "Thanks,"

"Yeah," he nods, meeting your eyes once more. 

He slowly stands up, keeping his eyes glued to yours. His head hangs low as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes darting over you. "No problem," he whispers. 

"We should get going," you whisper back, practically pulling away.

"Don't worry. I weren't gonna kiss ya," Tan chuckles, lacing his hands into yours. Smirking. "Not yet, anyway."

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @v1ntage-daydr3am @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan @landryslove

[zuuzuuberry]

Initial D Headcanons - What's their random/useless talent?

Project D!

Keisuke - He can solve a rubix cube. He used to never understand how people did it, but one of his friends in high school made fun of him because he couldn’t solve it. It then became his obsession for the next two weeks, and he’s now able to solve it in record time. 

Ryosuke - He can write with both his right and left hand, both separately and simultaneously,. Also really good at drawing organs, skeletons and different kinds of medical-related diagrams. They're always extremely accurate, and he can sketch the human skeleton in under 2 minutes. 

Takumi - He’s able to do the flower tongue fold. When he got bored, or zoned out as a kid he tended to fold his tongue differently subconsciously. Itsuki thinks it's both super cool and super gross. He can also wiggle his ears. He is also super good at crane games and has won Itsuki almost everything he’s wanted. 

Tomiguchi - Is an expert pen spinner. He learned how to spin pens a bunch of different ways, and you can often tell how he feels from how he’s spinning them. If he’s spinning them really fast or doing the endless spin, he’s nervous. If he's pushing it back and forth between his thumb and forefingers, he’s thinking really hard about something. He is also a GOD at dance dance revolution.

Kenta - He can burp the alphabet. He saw somebody do it in elementary school once and spent weeks learning how. Kenta also has pretty flexible fingers and can bend them back to touch his wrist. He used to have a habit of bending his fingers all the way to the back of his wrist, then hooking them underneath his bracelet and just leaving it there. It never bothered him but it freaked Keisuke so he stopped doing it. 

Matsumoto - He’s really good at untangling jewelry. Even the smallest knots he finds someway to undo. He’s also really good at juggling. His best is four things at once, but if you have him hold any two (nonfragile) objects, like a fruit or a water bottle, you’d likely come back and find him juggling with them. 

Fumihiro - SUPER good at shadow puppeting. Like he can make a bunch of different animals and objects, almost anything you give him. He’s also really good at catching flies for some reason. Like if he sees one buzzing nearby he can swipe it with startling accuracy, and he kills them on the first try every single time. 

Gas Station Gang!

Kenji - Really good at making balloon animals. He can make the most random animals in just a few seconds. He can also jump rope really well, and can do tricks with it, such as crossing his arms back and forth and hopping on one foot. Kenji is also super good at baton twirling. Catching it between his fingers, spinning it over his shoulders, everything. He never officially learned how, he just saw somebody do it once. Now whenever he has a somewhat long and cylindrical object in his hand, he will do small spins with it. 

Iketani - I can imagine him being able to make really good impressions of people. He used to practice the voices of people from his favorite TV show when he was younger, so it became a habit. He’s also REALLY good at whistling and can do a cartwheel. He has a pretty decent memory, which allows him to recognize the makes and models of so many different cars, as well as have a small fun fact about almost all of them. It also means he tends to memorize people's license plates when he gets bored at the gas station. Also he can moonwalk. 

Itsuki - He can hula hoop almost practically forever. Found out during a middle school PE class where he spent the entire time trying to teach Takumi how (he still doesn’t understand). He can peel oranges/tangerines with the peel still in one piece. He’s also really good with chopsticks, as his mom made him practice a lot when he was younger. He can replace them with almost anything (crayons, pencils, ex) and use them just fine. 

Bonus:

Bunta - He can make smoke rings. He used to show them to baby Takumi and it blew him AWAY. This kid was amazed. Bunta also has amazing hearing, despite his age. He complains about crickets and dripping faucets while he’s trying to sleep.