#I’m about to pass out just from my own imagination ugh

[angelfemmequeer]

the way I want to kiss my butch so gently before bed, feel their fingers slide down my side while I kiss their cheeks, their jawline, their neck

the way I need to trail my fingers down to their waistline and smile into their collarbone when their breathe hitches and grip tightens

the way I ask permission, go gently when they nod and say yes please, and do everything in my power to draw out all those sexy sweet noises they make for me

[cameronspecial]

Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases. 

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.” 

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.” 

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.” 

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall. 

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it. 

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity. 

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[morikosa]

Jerking off with your thoughts

Warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! student reader, slightly yandere Gojo reader’s age is 18, teacher x student

His chest heaving with desire as he thought about your small, delicate body.

He could already imagine your petite frame beneath him, your tiny hands trembling as he took your virginity. His cock is getting more challenging, the veins throbbing with lust as he continued to stroke himself off, his mind consumed by you

“Ugh, I need to be inside you, Y/N-chan, to feel your tight, small pussy wrapped around my cock,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. His breathing ragged, he quickened the pace of his hand on his shaft, the pleasure almost overwhelming as he thought about taking her innocence.

“But I shouldn’t think about this, right?” he growled, his hand moving faster, his cock growing harder with each passing second. his cum was oozing out of his cock’s tip. “You are my student, and I am your sensei. yet, I can’t help but want you more and more with each fucking passing day.”

His eyes locked onto the image of you in his mind, your delicate features twisted in pleasure and pain. It only turned him on more, his cock throbbing with the need to be inside you.

“Fuck morals- I want to make you moan, Y/N-chan, to feel your sweet pussy clench around my cock as I thrust into you,” he groaned, the words spilling from his lips like a prayer. His cock was hard as steel now, his balls drawing up as he teetered on the edge of climax.

“I don’t care what those old geezers or the others will say, I’m going to have you and I’m not going to let anyone but me touch you or even look at you-!”

he growled, the words fueling his pleasure as he pictured your cute moans. His hand moved faster, the pleasure building inside him like a storm.

he wishes you were here right now.

“I’ll make you mine, Y/N, even if it’s the last thing I do. Whether you want or not,” he promised, his voice raw with desire. His cock throbbed in his hand, the pleasure almost unbearable as he thought about fucking you in every way possible

his eyes flickered, his body convulsing as his chest heaved with the force of his orgasm. his hot semen shot out, coating his stomach

His cock throbbing with the intensity of his release. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts of you still dancing in his mind as he rode the wave of pleasure.

“Fuck, I wish it was your tight pussy wrapped around my cock instead of my hand,” he groaned, the words thick with lust. His cock softened slightly, but the desire in his eyes remained, burning with intensity and longing

He took a deep breath, and just then, the door to his room swung open; his eyes widened in shock when he saw you...

Damn it! Didn’t you know you’re not supposed to enter someone’s room without knocking-!?

“Gojo-Sensei! Yaga-Sensei is calling you, you’re late for the meeting again-KYA! I-I’M SO SORRY, SENSEİ- I-I’M LEAVİNG-!”

When you saw him like that, after a short shock, you covered your face with your hands in shame and immediately left the room; you were so embarrassed.

Gojo’s surprise was replaced by amusement, a mischievous grin formed on his face and he chuckled under his breath at your hasty escape. God, you were too cute for your own good.

“hehe~”

[jade-jini]

I’m sorry for not posting in like forever but I’m having insane thoughts rn (thanks to the gay writers. I’m looking at you ugar.) about Giselle and her boobs and and -

Giselle who knows you have an oral fixation so always lets you suck on her nipples. Sometimes it’s not even sexual sometimes you just wanna cuddle and sleep with them in your mouth <3 most of the time tho-

It’s supposed to be a way to relax you and it does but 😭 it also can make you go insane and lightheaded because the sensation and taste of her chest in your hands and mouth is just so good UGH. You always make a wet mess on her chest ‘cause you get so needy about them.

“Jesus y/n, Wtf baby?” She says in a scolding tone but not really.

“I’m sorry, they’re too pretty, can’t help it. Can I keep going please?” You just can’t get enough of them, and of course she lets you. Whether you have small or big hands, it doesn’t matter they are BIG and just so perfect.

Giselle who knows she can turn you into her personal little fucktoy, a human-size sex toy as long as she has her boobs in your mouth ‘cause your brain turns into nothing 🤤. She fucks herself on your strap or rides your pussy for hours without you getting tired, having her coming multiple times and of course leaving her chest almost numb ‘cause you didn’t stop giving them attention at all.

For g!p reader listen to me I can’t not talk about this… but fucking her tits broooo. You’re on your desk trying to get some work done and she either noticed you were stressed or simply felt like it because cmon, this woman knows she’s hot and sexy and (I need to write about how much she can turn herself on). Anyways, she gets on her knees in front of you and you’re like ?? But your cock has a mind of its own and it’s already getting hard just by that image. She giggles at how easily she can get you horny and ready. Aeri loves knowing the effect she has on you. So she starts unbuttoning her shirt and surprise! Of course she wasn’t using a bra (imagine using one at home😨). Aeri took your member out of your pants and in her hands to start working on it with her mouth as well until you were painfully hard and wet (which didn’t take too long). Once she thought you were ready, she put your cock in between her tits, and squeezed them together creating a perfect friction.

“Fuck baby…” you sighed as she moved them up and down your length. This was one of your favorite things fr. You wanted to kiss her but she lightly pushed you to your chair.

“Nope.” She simply said with that teasing smirk of hers and she started going faster, your hips matching her speed as you fuck her tits. “Relax, baby. Just focus on making a mess on them yes? Come on them, enjoy the view of your cum on my body.” You ended up doing a complete mess on her chest and face, and Aeri made sure to lick you clean and to collect some of it with her finger and taste it, moaning at the taste that she so much enjoyed, and there you were, hard af again and ready to keep going.

Giselle who lowkey bribes you and makes you do whatever she wants with the promise of letting you suck on her titties nfixncknd from behaving at the mall after spending hours in there when you just wanna go home to running errands for her 😭 (you’d do it either way but the extra motivation ain’t bad-)

Going back to a more fluffy side tho- Giselle who knows when you had a rough day and the only thing you want is to cuddle and watch a movie with her, movie that you never finish ‘cause you pass out in her arms as you suck on her tits and she plays with your hair, making you have the best sleep and dreams with your gf and her perfect body <3.

(A little thing I needed to get outta my system but I’m working on the asks I promise 😭)

[bellewintersroe]

I DO HAVE A BOB REQ👀 it's heavy angst mixed with a comforting ending, but how would they react (whenever u want but in my faves are Liebgott and Roe) to them thinking their s/o (nurse maybe?) somehow died while saving someone or similar, but actually she managed to escape and run and she reconnects with the battalion a few days later? all battered and bruised but still alive EVEN BETTER IF SHE TAKES TO SAFETY THE PERSON SHE WAS HELPING because imagining them seeing their girl that they thought was dead coming back quite literally from hell alive is AGH💘

I LOVEEEE THIS!!! Thank you Anon I’m excited to write this <3 <3

Warning: mentions of death, grief, war, wounds, etc.

Easy Boys x EasyNurse! Reader - How They React To You Going MIA.

Gene Roe:

- Gene knew (thinks) you were in the church as soon as he watched the bomb explode.

- He kinda freezes and he literally feels his insides running cold and a sickness go through him.

- Can’t be real, I can’t express the level of trauma, pure horror and devastation he feels in that moment. It doesn’t end, the whole time he fully thinks you’re gone. It doesn’t help that the rest of the company are questioning him and going through their own grief for your loss.

- He wants to escape it as much as possible but he knows he can’t. He feels like a statue, completely glued to his foxhole, he runs on autopilot and Winters is about to send him off the line.

- I feel like Gene would have a pretty bad breakdown (understandable) when he’s by himself so he’s not showing the full affects of what he believes is your loss.

- doesn’t help he has absolutely NO answers. He plays the moment over and over again, torturing himself by picturing your last moments, imagining himself being just an hour earlier and getting you out of that church.

- Gene even wished he was with you when that damn bomb went off.

- 3 days pass and Gene’s sat in his foxhole, alone, staring at the enemy line. He’s near enough given up, no gloves, no blanket, he can’t eat, cant sleep.

- “Doc, Captain Winters needs you, pronto.”

- He literally feels like a zombie walking to where he’s needed. All he can think of is you, it’s painful, he can literally feel his chest yearning and breaking and his grief is too much.

- “Yeah we found her running around with the I-company boys, got a little lost, didn’t ya’ nurse?” A man’s words cause Gene’s ears to prick. He can’t see anything but a taller man facing Winters and Nixon with a smaller figure, blanket huddled over- you.

- Ugh- feels like his hearts about to explode. Literally freezes and thinks he’s going to be sick. His heart accelerates and when he hears your voice he quite literally feels faint. 

- “got caught up with a patient there!” You turn around, sending a presence and both of you feel the intense hit of shock to be confronted with one another again. “Excuse me a minute…”

- All of a sudden you’re limping towards Gene. Your forehead is covered with 2 butterfly plasters and you have a nasty bruise under your right eye. Gene thinks he’s seen a ghost.

- Probably hesitates for a moment before you pull him aside, away from where the other men can see. “Gene.” You’d soothe and he’d let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

- Crashes into you. Literally grips you so tightly, he feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes are teary and it’s not until you let out a small yelp that he pulls back.

- “It’s okay, it’s fine Gene, it’s just a bruise.” Hearing your voice sends him into a spiral and he’s even more careful now to pull you close.

- Holds a hand to the back of your head, practically cradles you with wide eyes.

- “I thought- I thought you was dead.” He admitted.

- “No, I got caught up with a patient. After the church got bombed I managed to pull a patient out, Billy from I company- got lost on their lines for a few days, they took me in.”

- Soon enough he’s stammering with quivering hands, checking over you, asking if you’re okay. Winters had called a medic after all.

- Can’t stop looking at you, questioning if it’s all a dream, you’d catch him pinching himself. “Don’t do that Gene, I’m right here.” With a small hand on his cheek he can breathe again.

- Holds your hands tightly, the most affection he can show you in front of all the superiors. He’s still extremely tense, in shock from the close call, but he promises to keep an extra close eye on you, and he keeps that promise.

- Kisses your cuts and bruises when nobody’s looking, probably runs his hand over his face in surprise quite a few times, but honestly he’s sooo fucking relieved, like he actually cried when he saw you.

- “I love you so much, ya can’t do that to me again, evuh’.” With his little accent and a serious tone, ugh he’s a sweetie pie.

Joseph Liebgott:

- It happens in Eindhoven out of all the places.

- One minute you’re both celebrating together, with the rest of the company and the whole town and the next you’re not stationed with the rest of the nurses?

- The town gets bombed and barraged by the Germans that evening and he’s watching in pure horror. Recounts of nurses being KIA during the bombing spread real fast, and he refuses to believe what Battalion HQ are telling him.

- He’s shaking his head real fucking fast, denying and denying to all of them and himself.

- Throws a fucking riot- until he has to practically run off to be alone, wrenching and shaking at the idea that have could’ve happened to you.

- His anger and violence stems out of control, Winters removes him off the line real fucking fast, like he becomes a runner or something just for a break.

- Fraternisation is banned under all conditions, but relationships and affairs still take place, even the most superior of officers know that. So sometimes eyes are averted and now is one of those times that people choose to do that and help Liebgott through his grief.

- But 2 days have passed and it’s so raw, everybody’s in shock and disbelief at your lack of presence, for Joe he’s bottling up a painfully bitter feeling and he’s ready to explode.

- He never thought it would happen to you, you’re a nurse for Christ sake! Genuinely has to pause sometimes to just stop- like he can’t take it. Becomes so close to being sent to the aid station until one today he’s attempting to run a letter back to Battallion HQ when he see’s the back of a young woman wrapped in a blazer, overalls looking very familiar to your own.

- His heart genuinely gets shooting pains and he has to swallow the urge to cry as he watches this woman who painfully resembles you. Her khaki headscarf is bloody and he watches as another officer (he assumed from Dog) guides you inside the building.

- In fact he’s about to look away, until this girls head tilt to the side. He only catches a brief glimpse of her profile, Joe has to squint real hard when he feels his stomach drop.

- His mind has to be playing tricks on him so he turns away as the nurse rushes to aid a man on a stretcher.

- Slams the jeep door, literally kicks a dint into it as he storms his way through town. He just wants to deliver these fucking letters as fast as possible.

- “No, no, he’s German. He helped me out of Eindhoven, you must take care of him!”

- Joe’s head snaps just as he’s shoving the letters into some poor guys arms. He freezes, head lifting at the sound of your voice.

- “What the fuck?” He mutters, stepping a little closer. His breathing and heart speeds when he hears your voice again.

- “Sister. Make sure he gets to the infirmary, please… thank you.”

- He’d recognise that voice from anywhere.

- Literally feels like he’s choking when he stomps over, lost for words and breath and grabs hold of your arm.

- With a gasp, you stand there, bloody and bruised and protecting some Kraut soldier.

- You’re about to protest again until you come face to face with Joe, and suddenly your voice gets hitched in your throat, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

- “Joe!” It’s you that jumps into hug him first.

- Joe grips you tightly, “what the hell are you- what the hell are you doin’ here? Baby- y/n, I thought you were dead.”

- He has to pull back and hold your face to take a look at you and make sure it’s actually you.

- You can feel him shaking, and suddenly your attention is just on Joe and Joe only. He’s practically smothering you, not sure where to put his hands as he lets out a shaky breath.

- “Holy fuck I thought I lost you. They said you were gone. I knew you wouldn’t, I knew you wouldn’t leave me.” He gets super emotional so you two have to take a break somewhere real quick.

- By that I mean in the aid station where you’re supposed to be being patched up but Joe does that for the medic.

- “God dammit you are so stupid, you idiot, I thought I lost you.”

- “The German officer saved me Joe, he pulled me outta the rubble.”

- “he what?! Did he touch you, are you ok?”

- “He’s a nice man, Joe. I wouldn’t be here without him. He’s hurt so I got a little lost taking him back to the infirmary.”

- “nice guy? Baby d’ya got a concussion?”

- you scold him a little and soon he’s back to stroking your face and pulling you onto his lap, taking in as much as you as he possibly can.

- “Never leave me baby. Never leave me like that again.”

[darshy]

pretty, pt. 2

some of the formatting on this is screwed, i know, it’s just a struggle adjusting things on a phone ):

n e way, enjoy!!

Megumi Fushiguro didn’t hate Satoru Gojo—at first. It was more of a simmering annoyance, something bubbling under his skin, threatening to slip out and crash. Nothing too dramatic. Tsumiki liked the man enough so it caused Megumi to tolerate him. 

“After all, he saved us. Imagine where we’d be now without him!”

Before his sister said that, Megumi uttered his first curse word in relation to Gojo.

And, after living with the man for about two months, an anomaly occurred. Typically, Gojo would be absent for about a week. He’d say, “I’m just checking on something!” or “I’ve got a long mission—I’ll be back before you know it!”

Now, he’s been gone for a month.

Not that it really matters; the two siblings have a roof over their head and a surplus of food. It’s not their business to be in Gojo’s business.

It’s not Megumi’s business to be in Gojo’s business. 

There’s a creak in the house at two AM. The only creak in this house is located in the kitchen, right in front of the refrigerator. Megumi only knows this because he was tasked—by Gojo—to find every creak in a building as a survival tactic. Just in case he was kidnapped.

Or, if he wanted to sneak some food in the middle of the night. Doesn’t really matter the situation.

Megumi blinks and attempts to wipe the sleep from his eyes. The sound was minor, could easily pass as a tree scratching a window, but Megumi’s gut is twisting. It couldn’t be Tsumiki, she never gets up at night, and it couldn’t be Gojo because he always arrives back in the mornings.

So who is it?

He waddles to his bedroom door, toes twitching against the cold, wood floors. He presses on the lock, satisfied to hear a gentle click. Then, he pushes the door open. It reveals a dark hallway with several other doors in its walls. Tsumiki is just a few doors down to the left and Gojo’s room is the last room on the right. Megumi’s stomach churns as he looks to Gojo’s door.

‘Ugh, it’s so ominous…’

He pushes through anyway. The floor is smooth against his feet as he slowly makes his way down the house. Just as he reaches the middle of the staircase leading downstairs, he hears a murmur. Alarm rings through his mind and his hands shake.

What should he do? Is this an intruder? Should he leave and take Tsumiki with him? Call Gojo? Fight? His technique isn’t very refined—Gojo has been so busy lately that he wasn’t any help—and he’s never actually fought before. He could call for 911 too…

What should he do?

The murmuring gets louder, more audible. Megumi strains to hear from his spot, frozen, too scared to go up but still too scared to go down.

”M’gon’ kill that—- —watch him choke— -“

Megumi leans closer by holding onto the handrail of the staircase while praying that it doesn’t create a creak of its own.

”..she’s…mine. Mine.

“—Megumi, ah, why are you awake?”

Megumi holds his breath as he stumbles down the stairs. He, surprisingly, doesn’t feel the harsh impact of the ground against his bones. Instead, there’s a feeling of warmth and the smell of a girl. Megumi pulls away immediately. He’s quick to mask his face of fear, and instead, replaces it with a glare and a sneer. “Gojo? Why are you here?”

”Am I not allowed in my own house?” His smile is slow going, just a bit wobbly, and rather empty-looking. 

Megumi jerks back even further. “Are you drunk?”

“A question answered by three other questions,” Gojo says with the bark of a laugh. His breath smells weird. Obviously there’s the stench of alcohol but there’s something else there. Lingering. 

Stinking.

”You smell,” Megumi mutters. Gojo blinks down at him. “You’re stinking up the air,” he says a bit louder while conscious of Tsumiki’s gentle snoring. Gojo grins again.

”And you’re drunk. Why are you drunk? I’ve never seen you drink.”

”Awh! Am I worrying you, Megumi-chan? But don’t worry—I’m an adult, so I can do adult things like this.” Megumi cringes at the honorific and cringes even more so at Gojo’s use of ‘adult.’

”There’s no kind of adult in you.”

”..okay! Time for bed!”

Gojo swipes up Megumi and quickly warps the two into the boy’s bedroom. Megumi’s stomach churns and he wants to puke.

But underneath all the smells of alcohol, there’s a twinge of floral essence. It smells like the shampoo and perfume that Tsumiki uses. It smells like a girl.

Megumi opens his mouth to ask another question but then Gojo is gone.

“Why were you awake last night?” Gojo asks as Megumi pours cereal into a bowl. Tsumiki blinks between the two of them, her mouth full.

”I was thirsty,” Megumi says lowly and glances up to his adopted father. Gojo has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a bit messy.

“I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” His breath permeates the air; now the aroma of mint and toothpaste. His eyes twinkle and Megumi knows that he saw through the lie.

Change is a constant in life. It’s so much of a constant that Megumi is accustomed to it. A new school, a new bed, a new life…

It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hate change, because he hates change. 

He hates coming home to tiny little curses wriggling about. He hates the new craze in Gojo’s eyes. He hates how the hallways are dark at night. He hates the muffled noise coming from Gojo’s room.

He doesn’t necessarily mind the new smell that tangles with Gojo’s cologne.

He still hates change.

Megumi wakes up at five in the morning. His stomach is killing him. It’s twisting and knotting and spinning.

He moves to the hallway bathroom and is surprised to see the light on, shining beneath the door. Gojo is gone again and Tsumiki never wakes up at night.

”Tsumiki,” he calls gently, holding his stomach. She doesn’t reply.

”Tsumiki, please let me in.”

Silence.

”…Tsumiki?”

There’s a shift of a shadow, a disturbance to the light. Megumi recoils quickly and nearly smacks his head against the picture frame behind him. His stomach rolls.

He decides to use the bathroom downstairs, unnerved.

Tsumiki closes the front door behind them. The heat is nearly unbearable so the siblings scramble to remove their socks and shoes. Soon, they lay against the cool tile floors of the kitchen. Tsumiki is looking at Megumi and Megumi is looking at the ceiling.

”It’s hot,” she groans. Megumi nods in agreement. Both of their faces are flushed feverishly. Megumi wants to take a nap against the tiles so he slowly closes his eyes.

”Hey, wanna get some popsicles?”

Megumi opens his eyes. “Yeah.”

The two stand up. Just as Megumi reaches for his sandals, Tsumiki stops him, “I’ll go—I have the money.” For proof, she takes her pocket in hand and shakes it. Change jingles loudly.

”Huh?”

”I’m gonna go. By myself. Just tell me what you want.”

Megumi’s eyebrow twitches. “But I wanna go too.”

”Just tell me what you want.”

”…fine.” Megumi proceeds to babble about a specific ice cream before Tsumiki takes off. The last words to leave her lips are: “Don’t forget to lock the door!” He dutifully follows—turning three locks until they click—but is then faced by another obstacle: boredom. He doesn’t have homework assigned and he doesn’t really have any chores that needed to be done.

Megumi lays against the tiles again. He sweats, heating the cold surface up, so he slides to another section of the floor. He repeats this three times until there’s dirt and mini pebbles sticking to his cheeks. Tsumiki is not back yet.

The boy makes his way up the stairs and into his room. He can probably find something remotely interesting inside but—oh.

Megumi pauses. His hand that was raised to open the door falls to his side.

Gojo’s room is making noises. It’s scratching and crying, almost like a sound for help. Megumi eyes the door with a tilted head. He takes a step forward and then he hears it.

Pleading.

Megumi’s guts twist and his fingers flex. He’s struggling to breathe and he’s reminded of Tsumiki’s words of “In through your nose and out through your mouth.” It’s not enough.

He staggers backwards. The noises get that much louder with a few more scratches and a few more sobs. Megumi is torn between investigating and leaving.

He chooses to depart. He moves back to the top of the stairs, grasping the handrails so tight they’ll leave marks in his palms.

—but what if this is urgent?

Megumi blinks and squeezes the handrail again and doesn’t take any further steps.

What if they need help?

He turns back to the door. His mind is full of slush and he’s hot and sticky and he just wants Tsumiki to come back with a bag full of popsicles and ice creams.

What if Gojo is hiding something?

He places his hand on the doorknob. He’s shaking. The scratches have subsided but Megumi can clearly hear a sniffle every few seconds.

The knob doesn’t turn. The door is locked.

What is Gojo hiding?

Megumi squats. He presses his face against the floor and peers into the thin crack under Gojo’s door. A single eye and bloodied finger tips stare back at him.

He screams and screams and screams and runs to the bathroom to puke.

Who is Gojo hiding?

”Megumi! I’m back!” Tsumiki calls from the front door. “And guess who I found!” She doesn’t explicitly say who and, unfortunately, the response she receives is silence.

Then, there’s loud crying.

”Ah—Megumi!” Tsumiki hurries up the stairs with Gojo right behind her. The two find Megumi hunched over the toilet, heaving and hacking. Gojo approaches with open arms, a frown on his face. 

“Megumi? What happened?”

Gojo barely grazes Megumi’s shoulder before he’s shoved away. Megumi’s glaring and sobbing. Tsumiki parts her mouth in shock—Gojo tenses up right beside her.

As Tsumiki leans in to coddle her brother, Gojo stands, watching, eyes wide and fists clenching.

What did he see?

Megumi gasps for air as he’s slammed into the fighting mattress. Gojo stands above him, a simple smile on his face. It doesn’t look real.

”I told you to bend your knees more,” Gojo says with a patronizing tone, “If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have fallen.”

That’s a lie. Gojo would have pushed him down anyway, it doesn’t matter how much force he would of had to use.

“I just… I want to learn my technique more,” Megumi says lowly. He claws at a rip in the mattress. Slowly, fluff crawls out of it. Gojo wipes it away with his foot. Megumi huffs.

”To master a technique, you need to learn basic fighting. How else did you think I became this great?” Gojo laughs obnoxiously and Megumi doesn’t feel a tug of his lips or a happy beat of his heart or anything. It’s all been stowed away since he discovered the person trapped in Gojo’s room. If that’s even a person.

Obviously, Megumi has attempted to open Gojo’s room for a while yet. The time windows have been small, unfortunately. Gojo has stayed home for a while now—the scheduling of his missions have gotten more and more bleak. As if the higher ups don’t need him. As if there are less and less curses.

That will never be true.

And besides, Megumi shouldn’t be so worried about it anyway. He could just be seeing things, or it’s some kind a curse that Gojo just wants to specifically torture. (And, even at that, Megumi’s not sure if the thing is being tortured. He’s not even sure as to what happens in that room.)

”—despite the challenges, which you’ll go through by the way, you’ll always come out on top because you have me, Megumi! Oh, and… Hey! Are you listening?”

”No,” Megumi replies before he spots a fist coming right for his forehead.

Megumi watches the two dogs zip around each other. They nip and preen and jump and yap. Their furs brush and mix and it’s pretty to look at.

Tsumiki watches too. She sits next to Megumi, playing in the grass with her toes. Leaves are falling and snow will be arriving soon, but Tsumiki is comfortable going around barefoot and wearing shorts and a tank top.

“Is it a lot of work?” she asks, “To make them play, I mean.”

Megumi shrugs. The dogs freeze for a second, a moment of stillness, but then they’re back to enjoying life.

“Well—at least it’s nice to see.”

Megumi agrees. He doesn’t say that aloud.

Gojo has a girlfriend. She smells a little like Tsumiki.

She’s sitting next to him at the table, hands in her lap, head swirled in his direction. Tsumiki admires her a lot. Megumi shifts uncomfortably in his seat as Gojo spoon feeds her. Under the blindfold, Megumi can imagine the heart eyes.

Later, the couple settle onto the couch, deciding to watch a movie. Tsumiki and Megumi are instructed to go to bed.

”Megumi…!” Tsumiki hisses when Megumi stops at the top of the stairs. “Gojo told us to go to sleep. I don’t want to be in trouble because you’re caught watching TV!”

”She’s wearing gloves, Tsumiki.”

”Huh?”

”She’s wearing gloves inside.”

”Well it’s fall and maybe she runs cold,” Tsumiki says, leaning against a nearby wall. “Or, maybe, she doesn’t have her nails done.” Tsumiki sighs dreamily. “She really is perfect.”

Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Ew.” He turns back to look down the staircase. 

Gojo’s standing there, hands on his hips. His lips are puckered in a pouting way. “I said go to bed!!”

Tsumiki laughs.

Megumi’s up in the dead of night.

He makes his way to Gojo’s room with expectations of the sounds of creaking and moaning and crying.

There’s nothing—even as he crouches to peer under the crack of the door, whispering back, promising to help this time.

There’s nothing but faint scratch marks on the floor.

The girlfriend—you—has been around more often. Sometimes it’s babysitting while Gojo is gone (which, by the way, the siblings have never had a babysitter before, as per Gojo’s terrible parenting skills), but most of the time it’s while Gojo is around. The two of you stay in the bedroom for a majority of the visit, so Tsumiki clings to Megumi until you come out.

Currently, this is a babysitting scenario. Gojo’s been gone for two weeks and you’ve been doing your due diligence for the kids. Cooking, cleaning, and playing house seem to be your specialty.

”You’d be a great mom,” Tsumiki says. Megumi physically flinches and you pause your mindless surfing on the TV. You’re still wearing gloves.

“Oh, you think?” you ask rather awkwardly. Tsumiki nods.

”I’m just waiting for the day Gojo proposes.”

Megumi pops his mouth open, to tell Tsumiki to knock it off or something but then she stands up and announces that she will grab some snacks.

Megumi’s eyes immediately find yours after that. “I’m sorry. I…don’t know why she said that.” He feels miffed.

”It’s okay,” you smile gently. It appears that you want to say more but then stop. You curl into the side of the couch, on the complete opposite side of Megumi. You look almost sad, like something is missing in your eyes.

”You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Megumi says and you blink up at him. “I know that Gojo can be a bit pushy—“ he’s under exaggerating— “but he can’t boss you around or anything. You guys haven’t known each other for that long, right?”

Your lips part and just like before, you stop. It’s frustrating watching you pause and struggle by simply not saying what you want to say. Then it’s awkward when your eyes dart up to the clock, waiting for your cue to shout I should head home now!

And just as Megumi gives up, slinking into his side of the couch, face pressed against the armrest, you talk.

”Satoru told me what you guys have been through—so don’t think I’m upset about Tsumiki. I honestly thought it was kinda funny.” You grin a little and Megumi pouts back.

”She still shouldn’t have said that.”

”It’s whatever.” You shrug but still grin and there’s a sparkle in your eyes that is similar to Tsumiki’s. Oh. That’s what was missing in you. That’s probably what made Gojo fall for you.

You’re really nice looking.

Megumi’s face warms. He distracts himself by looking at your gloved hands. Like clockwork, you hide them in your lap, with an uncomfortable look on your face.

”I’ve, um, known Satoru my whole life,” you blurt. Megumi realizes that you don’t want him to question the gloves. “He would visit the US during his holidays and he would find me.”

Megumi leans in and curiously questions, “Find you?”

”Because he wanted me—us—to live here, in Japan, together,” you say and the sparkle leaves your eyes. You’re not so pretty anymore. “And guess what happened.”

You and Gojo must have broken up. The teacher has been disturbed lately. He screams and breaks everything in his sight and he almost appears to lose control. (Of course, this is while the kids are—supposedly—sleeping. He wouldn’t dare show unruly behavior to growing and easily-influenced children!)

Thankfully, he doesn’t lose control, less Megumi be six feet underground.

And Megumi isn’t sad. Your absence doesn’t make his heart heavy. Doesn’t make him want to cry and throw things too because that’s how Gojo does it and Megumi isn’t him. Megumi is simply Megumi. He doesn’t want you back like Gojo does. He’d just appreciate it if you visited once in a while. It would help the broken plates. It would help with the increased amount of curses.

“Sensei.”

”Sensei.”

”No Megumi! Sensei.” Gojo corrects.

”That’s what I’m saying!” Megumi groans. “It’s not like I’ve never said this before. I literally go to school, Gojo.”

”You mean sensei,” Gojo says with a sly smile. Megumi groans again.

He’s growing up. It feels slow, like each day is dragging by. It doesn’t help that Tsumiki has fallen ill, even to the point of bedriddenness. But it’s okay. Because Megumi is growing and he’s going to fix her.

He’s going to fix everything.

“Geto Suguru.” Megumi looks up to his soon-to-be teacher. “You knew him?”

Gojo shifts uncomfortably. “He was my best friend! And now I have to kill him.”

”Oh,” Megumi utters because there’s nothing else to say. He looks back down to the sheet. He squints at a near familiar name. Shoko Ieiri. Megumi taps the small picture of her. Gojo grins.

”Another friend. I don’t have to kill her.”

”Oh,” he utters again, because there’s still nothing to say.

Just before school starts, just before Gojo officially becomes Megumi’s teacher, you’re back. Standing in a pretty outfit, beaming at the two from inside Gojo’s home. Megumi stiffens and attempts to meet Gojo’s eyes. His attempts are ignored in favor of you, however.

The two make it inside. They’re sweating, at least Megumi is, from the relentless practice. And he wants to ask what you’re doing here. Why you’ve shown up out of the blue in a pretty outfit, smelling a bit like Tsumiki and not wearing gloves at all. 

He’s going to ask but then you place food in front of the two and Megumi can’t say no to this.

So he eats. 

There’s comfortable conversation for you and Gojo. It’s weird not having Tsumiki sitting next to him, whispering, prying. She would be waiting for you to finish. She’d wait and wait and wait.

Megumi keeps eating. His mind feels like it’s running a little slow.

”Of course I would, Satoru… Why do you think I’m here?” You say while smiling. It looks weird.

”For me.” Gojo’s smiling too. His is easier to decode than yours. It’s a simple cypher: right corner of his mouth is a bit down and his front teeth are gnawing into the flesh. He’s not upset but maybe a bit annoyed at… something. Megumi’s not so sure. The teacher always carries a look like that when Megumi misplaces his foot. Or when the teen is up at night, creeping into the halls.

Just as Megumi’s head droops, his forehead hovering right above the countertop, he hears you gasp. Blearily, he looks to his two elders. Gojo’s hand is clutched around a wrist you’re attempting to tug back. The teacher’s face is bright red with his glasses slipping down his nose sloppily. “Satoru…!” you whine and pull back.

It’s terrifying how quickly Gojo leaps across the counter to get to you.

Megumi closes his eyes.

Itadori is a mess. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even be alive.

He shouldn’t be in Megumi’s dorm room, but he is, and he’s poking and prodding around. He says things like: “Woah Fushiguro!! What is this?!” and it’s a book about psychology. When Itadori began to open Megumi’s drawers, a pillow was thrown to his head.

“Ahhh Fushiguro, your room is so clean… Where’s all the posters?” Itadori asks. He’s peering over Megumi’s shoulder. Math homework peer right back at him.

”What posters?” Megumi attempts to shrug the other away. Itadori stays and gestures around the room. “You know, like, really hot girls in bikinis! And big butts! Like Jennifer Lawrence.”

Megumi’s face turns red. “Hell no!” And he finally swats Itadori away.

Megumi resumes his work for a few minutes longer before looking over to Itadori. He’s, again, snooping around. Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Put that down.” Itadori’s holding a picture frame before flipping it to green eyes. ”Who is this? Your mom or something?”

Soon-to-be. Right. Gojo and you are engaged. Have been for about a month. The wedding will happen in about three weeks from now.

Feigning boredom, Megumi looks back to his papers. “Gojo-sensei hasn’t told you about her yet? I figured he would blab about her every second he could,” he mutters. Itadori appears a bit skittish after hearing that.

”I mean, he talks about his fiancée…”

”Yeah.”

”Oh… OH!” Itadori jumps up and Megumi can practically see the cogwheels turning in his head. “So she will be your mom! Wow, okay!” Itadori turns back to the picture frame. Suddenly, a mouth manifests out of Itadori’s cheek and laughs.

”I’m sure she’ll make a great meal!”

Megumi barely suppresses the punch heading for Itadori’s face.

A runaway bride is what you are. Fleeing the night before the wedding.

Gojo has held a stifling quiet for the past 32 hours. His eyes are dull. Megumi wants to reach out and offer some sort of comfort. Instead, he says simply, “It’s probably just some misunderstanding.”

Gojo doesn’t look up. Doesn’t react, doesn’t move, and Megumi would think that he were dead if not for the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

”I’m tired of her running away,” Gojo says after a pregnant pause. “I know what she wants and she knows what I want. It’s not like I’m going to kill her.”

Megumi’s stomach rolls and it reminds him of being a kid, sneaking around and trying to get into Gojo’s room because he thinks someone’s trapped in there. It’s silly, looking back on it, but his stomach is rolling all the same again.

He makes his way back to the school. He dreams of his warm bed and warm shower and warm clothes. He’s tired of the fighting. He’s tired of Tsumiki not waking up and nagging him. He’s tired of the looks of his friends, each exhausted and on the brink of death after each mission. He’s tired of it all.

As Megumi passes a local store, he smells something like Tsumiki. Floral-ish, like flowers, like how most girls smell. It smells nice and comforting and like you.

He turns to the store. His heart seems to stop in his chest and his mouth dries.

You notice him back. Your eyes lock with wide green ones.

Megumi is right in front of you in half a second. His arms are stretched wide, a hugging gesture, but you don’t take it. You shuffle, holding a wrinkled bag in your hands. Megumi drops his arms.

”Hi,” he whispers. He doesn’t know if you’re real or if it’s just the hysteria creeping into him. He wants to touch and feel, maybe poke and prod while he’s at it. You look like you, but are you really? You smell like you, but is this fake lying?

”Hi Megumi,” you whisper back and Megumi hugs you. You’re stiff (and you shouldn’t be) but you manage to wrap your arms around his middle. Your hair tickles his mouth and he just hugs you closer.

”I missed you so much,” he says into the top of your head. He pauses for a moment to inhale. You tense up like you’re waiting for bad news—and for good reason. Gojo-sensei has been in his quiet, anger mood for far too long. Megumi can’t wait for it to end.

“We want you back home.” He inhales your scent again. Sweet. Comforting. Home.

”I know,” you say into his jacket. (Despair.)

[libraryofgage]

Scream AU

I've been possessed recently by a Steddie and Buckingham Scream AU, which means I haven't written much for my Tumblr fics hfjkds

Anyway, to make up for it, here's a little snippet of the Scream AU ;)

This snippet is clean, but the fic itself is, uh, very Dead Dove hfjsdk

Still, this snippet does include discussion of murder with vague descriptions and cursing

-------

“Have you heard about Tommy and Carol?”

Chrissy presses her lips together in a thin line, focusing more on the breeze passing over her than Jason’s friend, David, sitting a foot away from her. Jason’s arm is around her waist, encouraging her to lean against his shoulder for the twenty minute free period. 

On Jason’s right side, Steve Harrington is sitting with one leg on the bench and the other on the ground. It creates a space perfect for Robin Buckley to fit in. And she does. She slid into the spot like she owned it, and she’s now leaning back against Steve’s chest, a book in her hands that Steve reads over her shoulder. He never stops her when she turns the page, and Chrissy wonders if he’s actually even reading along.

Robin and Steve look good together. They fit as naturally as the sun that shines down on them, making Robin’s hair glint in a way Chrissy finds difficult to look away from.

“Yeah,” Jason says, shaking his head as he rubs circles on Chrissy’s waist with his thumb. “Fucking brutal, huh?”

“Dingus used to know them,” Robin says, her voice distracted as she turns the page. 

“Used to,” Steve stresses, frowning slightly as he looks away from the book. “Haven’t talked to them much lately. Jason’s the one who's been hanging out with them recently.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, getting the feeling she doesn’t actually want to know. Still, she hates the idea of being left out even more.

David grins at her and leans closer, ignoring the way Jason tugs Chrissy closer and glares. “They were both found dead this morning,” he says, his eyes wide and gleeful. “Tommy was floating in the pool, Carol hung from a tree, and both of them were gutted.”

“Gutted?” Chrissy asks.

“Ugh, spare us the details,” Robin says, putting the book down and looking at David with a bored expression. 

David doesn’t listen to her. “Yeah, gutted. Intestines and organs all falling out. Tommy’s were floating in the pool, though, made the water red and everything.”

A sick feeling stirs in Chrissy’s stomach, making her grimace as she looks away from David. She can’t help imagining the sight, nausea sweeping over her uncontrollably. “Dude!” Jason says, his loud voice making her wince. “Have some fucking class, yeah?”

“Sorry,” David says, raising his hands up and keeping his mouth shut for all of two seconds before saying, “I bet they were fucking.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at David like he’s stupid.

“You know,” David replies, “fucking. Everyone knows you shouldn’t fuck in a horror movie if you wanna live.”

“This isn’t a movie, dumbass,” Jason says, leaning even further into Chrissy’s space to flick David’s forehead.

“I’m just saying!” David says, rubbing at his forehead. “Everyone knows you shouldn’t have sex unless you wanna die. Look at Friday the 13th! Those counselors getting it on started the whole massacre.”

“So, what, some guy passed by Carol’s place, saw them fucking in the living room, and decided to get stab-happy?” Steve asks, his tone heavily implying David is, in fact, stupid beyond reason.

“Maybe he’s a horror movie aficionado.”

“Do you even know how to spell that word?” Steve asks.

“Do you?”

“How’d they even gut them?” Robin asks, her head falling back on Steve’s shoulder as she moves the subject along. Her neck stretches, and Chrissy focuses on following the line of it down to Robin’s shoulders to ride out the nausea. “Seems like overkill.”

“You cut them from the navel,” Steve says, his finger tapping against Robin’s knee as he looks across the courtyard. When Chrissy follows his gaze, she finds Eddie Munson sitting on a table, grinning at something one of his friends has said. “And I guess you’d go, like, side to side or something.”

Before he can say more, he grunts in pain, and Chrissy looks back to see Robin has roughly elbowed him in the ribs. “I said spare us the details, dingus,” she says, looking at him over her shoulder with a frown. Steve grins and raises his hands in surrender, shrugging once. Robin rolls her eyes and looks away. 

Her gaze lands on Chrissy and she gets up, brushing non-existent dust from her clothes before standing in front of Chrissy. “C’mon, let’s leave the boys to their gross talk,” she says, holding her hand out.

Without thinking, Chrissy accepts it, allowing herself to be pulled off the bench. Robin grins as she drops her hand, unaware that Chrissy is inexplicably missing the gentle warmth of her palm. “I’ll see you in class, Jason,” she says, waving before following Robin.

They’re half-way to the building when Robin says, “You should just tell them to shut up next time.”

Chrissy shrugs. “I don’t know. It was gross but easy to ignore,” she says. A few beats of silence pass before she adds, “You shouldn’t be so rough with Steve. He might think you don’t like him anymore.”

Robin falters, whipping her head around to look at Chrissy. “What?” she asks, her voice high and slightly strained.

It makes Chrissy think she’s stuck her nose where it doesn’t belong. She bites her bottom lip, watching as Robin’s eyes drop to the action before quickly rising again. “I just mean, well, he’s your boyfriend, right? You shouldn’t hurt him.”

Another beat of silence passes before Robin starts laughing so hard that she doubles over. She wheezes, holding her stomach and nearly losing strength in her legs before she calms down enough to stand up straight again. “We aren’t dating,” she says breathlessly, her cheeks flushed as she looks at Chrissy. “First of all, he’s way too high maintenance. Second of all, he’s only my platonic soulmate. We’re destined to be best friends. Nothing more. Third of all, I’m a gold star lesbian, Chrissy. I’m not exactly looking for dick.”

Oh. 

That’s…a lot to process. Chrissy blinks, letting everything run through her brain before she slowly nods. “Oh,” she says, her voice soft as she ducks through the door that Robin holds open for her. She waits just inside the school hall as Robin follows her in. “Sorry, I guess.”

“You’re okay with me being a lesbian?” Robin asks.

“Well, uh, are you gonna hit on me?” Chrissy asks back, making sure her tone is light and playful enough that Robin knows she’s joking.

Robin stares at her for a few seconds. “Only if you wanted me to,” she finally says, her tone surprisingly serious. Before Chrissy can respond, Robin smiles at her and easily changes the subject by saying, “Anyway, I’m kinda nervous after hearing the guys talk about Tommy and Carol.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little scary,” Chrissy says, her brain barely able to keep up with the change. “I’m not looking forward to being home alone tonight.”

“Want me to come over? I can bring a pizza and we can watch a movie,” Robin offers, her genuine smile telling Chrissy this isn’t a joke or some play on her comment about flirting.

It’s reassuring, actually. She wouldn’t want to invite Jason, since he’d look for reasons to have sex, and Robin is plenty nice. They’ve been hanging out more since she and Jason started dating. It was inevitable, really. Jason and Steve hang out because they’re on the basketball team together, so Robin and Chrissy would naturally cross paths.

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, her shoulders relaxing some as she smiles. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Totally,” Robin says, nodding once as her grin widens. “I’ll come over after work. I should be there around eight.”

Before Chrissy can say anything else, the bell rings, and she parts ways with Robin so she isn’t late to class.

[hughiecampbelle]

Press Pass (Hughie Campbell/Homelander Oneshot)

Character/s: Hughie, Homelander, Annie, Butcher

Word Count: 1,761

Warning/s: gore, sort of all the basic warnings The Boys typically has

Requested: ive reading some of your works and im in the love! the way you write for characters each distinctly is amazing. i would like to request a fic with the following prompts for hughie: 55) opaque, 17) crime scene & 11) “you say that like it’s a bad thing” :) - anon

Requested: Hii again!! I’m the anon who requested the Homelander fic with prompts Fury, Shooting Stars and “Get away from me” and lemme just say I loveee loveee it!!! The shooting stars part, I did not see that coming and you got Homelander to a tee. Could clearly imagine him looking hurt when reader said get away from me, the desperation in his voice to gain reader’s approval, and then his relief that reader liked what he did. Ugh. I really love it!!! Thank you!!! If it’s not a bother, may I request another? Still platonic Homelander x reader but this time with prompts: Desperate, Wildflowers, “Say something” Again, thank youuu!!! - anon

A/N: I hope you don't mind my loves, I combined your requests! I just got this one idea and it fits so well as one consecutive story. I'm really happy with the way it turned out :D My loves, it makes me so happy that you like my writing! Thank you for the lovely feedback, it means the world! I go back and read it so often it's pathetic lol. I really hope you like it!!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Hughie. . . His name falls from your mouth, dripping down your chin like vomit. Your hands are shaking by your side. You ball them up, nails digging into palms, attempting to steady them. Bile rises in your throat. It takes everything in you to breathe through it, swallow it. Hughie, you say again, louder, before you lose your courage, he knows. They heard you this time, all of them on their feet, collectively staring at what stood before them. The closer they get, the worse it looks. His hands find their way to your skin, turning over your palms and wrists, counting every finger, up you arms. The blood, it’s all yours. Dirt, too. You resembled a crime scene, covered head to toe in red. It was matted in your hair, stuck between your teeth, sticky across your body. As if you had bathed in it. There is no scar tissue, no stitches. That’s the thing about being a Supe: you could be tortured and still, there would be no evidence. Your body had it’s way of pulling itself together seamlessly. Effortlessly. It was dying that was the challenge. Your clothes, what was left of them, were full of holes, burned at the edges. Singed. Scorched. The air felt cold around you, nipping and biting at your skin. He follows the excess of blood from your neck, your head, his lips moving, but the ringing in your ears prevents you from hearing. When he finds no open wounds, no active bleeds, he stops, looking you in the face, speaking slowly. Who, y/n? Who knows? You can’t say his name. You shake your head. It all comes up. I don’t know how he figured it out, I, I was so careful. He was so angry. You were, weren’t you? He holds your shoulders, steadying you, asking you to calm down. Take a deep breath. You do as instructed, gasping for air. They’re all watching you, waiting. He asks again. This time, your voice comes out small, beaten and defeated. Homelander. Homelander knows. 

He made you dig your own grave. The soil was rich and muddy. He’d taken you somewhere secluded, outside of the city. Wildflowers sat at the edges of the woods. In another life, another situation, they would have been pretty. Beautiful, even. So would the trees. Fresh, rainy, it had the potential to be nice. But it wasn’t. He hands you a shovel and tells you to start digging. Your shoulder had been broken. Your jaw dislocated. One of your eyes had been swollen shut, bruised and sore. Your lip busted. Your tongue poked at all the empty sockets, instinctively, childishly. Somewhere in Vought Tower your teeth sat scattered across the floor. Would he keep them? You’re not sure how long it took, only that he was growing impatient, bored, sour. The sun was setting. He’d go back and forth, yelling and screaming and berating to complete silence. You’re not sure which unsettled you more. You did the best you could given the circumstances, using your non-dominant hand. The other had been crushed, placed protectively at your side. This would only end one way, you both knew this. You betrayed him. He trusted you and you decimated that relationship. Now you would pay for it. Broken bones, broken blood vessels, that was nothing. He wanted your life. He wanted to rid the world of someone who didn’t deserve to take another breath. You wondered if he knew what would happen next. You wondered if he’d known all along or if it would be another sick, twisted surprise. What would he do then? 

You’d used your press pass all those years ago. You were fresh out of school and just starting out. You were excited, elated, a rookie. It had been Starlight you’d intended to interview, one of a million reporters at the time of her debut. She picked you, and a few others, out of the crowd. Annie admitted later she liked you instantly. You were nervous and young, and it made her feel better about also being nervous and young. You weren’t arrogant or jaded, you were genuinely interested in her story, her upbringing, in her. You asked questions the others never would have thought of. They were so used to writing the same stories, the same angles. You had a new perspective. You’d laughed, called it inexperience, but she disagreed. You were good at your job from the start. Homelander took notice of you instantly. He’d grown tiresome of his team of yes men. They were old, and boring, and lost their flare. You made Starlight look good: cute, innocent, hopeful, yet powerful. Everything anyone could have wanted from a new member of The Seven. He requested your presence not long after at a meeting. Truth be told, he liked you for more than just your writing. You were attractive, intelligent, had working. All American. Working your way up the ladder, the ranks. There was something enticing about that. You were ecstatic. Homelander asking for you, requesting you personally? Annie had been wary, wanting to warn you, unsure of how to say it without giving away too much. In the end she said nothing and regretted it instantly. 

Say something. There was something desperate in his voice, a kind of begging. Look at me, he spat. You had to turn your head to look at him, your bad eye completely shut. Say. Something. He says again through grit teeth. I’m sorry, John. You hadn’t expected it, an apology, and neither had he. He takes a step back, reacting as if you’d slapped him. Struck him. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you follow up, and you meant every word. You joined his team not long after. You were writing most of the pieces about him. He liked the pictures you painted, made him heroic, self-sacrificing, patriotic. You were insightful, smart but not arrogant, driven. You wouldn’t publish anything until it was perfect, until you were satisfied. You and him, you’d become friends. Or, at least, as close to friends as he could get. He made sure never to show you the other sides of him, instead he played a particular role quite well. He’d fooled you. He’d fool everyone. His intentions opaque, impenetrable. You never could have known, could you? And then Starlight left. That was the beginning of the end. She asked you to meet with her one night, sent you coordinates. You’d grown close to her, too. But she’d never let you in on what was really happening. If she did, she'd have been putting you in danger. Too late, you think to yourself now, half-laughing, half-mocking. That’s when you met them, The Boys. that’s when they told you everything. You were horrified, sick to your stomach, angry. Annie was so sorry, so incredibly sorry, but it was better that you didn’t know. Why would you tell me now? What, what am I supposed to do with all this? Your tone was accusing, hysterical. Butcher was straightforward, calm, collected. You’re going to help us take him down. 

You wanted to do your job and be good at it. That was all. You think back. Anything could have prevented this moment. Annie could have chosen someone else. You could have declined Homelander's offer. Perhaps it was earlier than that. You could have never been given Compound V in the first place. You’d never disclosed that you were a Super. Your abilities weren’t flashy, they were self-serving. One dimensional. You could come back from the dead. Sometimes it was instant. Other times, it took a little longer. All depended on the damage. Your injuries were extensive, bringing tears to your eyes with every breath, every move. You could still get hurt. You could still die. You just came back as if nothing had happened. No one at Vought, or work, or school had ever known. You’d only told The Boys out of necessity: you couldn’t let them think you were one and done. You’d come back eventually. It would save you, yes, but it would make things so much worse. If Homelander ever found out, if he didn’t know already, he’d make sure you suffered far worse than you already were. You’d have to go into hiding. Play dead. At least, for a little while. He had you stop, standing before him. He looked you up and down, his features contorting. You disgust me. And with that, the final bow, his eyes lit up red. Severed you in half, hip to hip. Then again, through your neck, decapitating you instantly.  You’re okay, Hughie says again. The first time you must not have heard him. You say that like it’s a bad thing. You’re only slightly amused. Mostly though, you were tired. There are no marks, no sign of a fight. It’s as if the night never even happened. And yet, you couldn’t get the feeling out of your head: the blinding sensation, it severed through your skin, your muscles and bones. Coming apart like that so easily, like you meant nothing, like your body was putty, malleable. His play thing. You’re not sure how you could shake it. He’d kicked your severed body into the hole, piling dirt on top. Hours passed. It was getting dark, and then, suddenly, it was morning. As if you’d gone to sleep. You clawed your way out, choking up dirt and blood. Your teeth had grown back. You were in one piece. Hughie brought you home, ran a bath. He helped you undress. You explained the best you could, but your words fell fragmented, in half-sentences. He didn’t push the subject. You faced Homelander and you lived to tell the tale. That was enough. You were sure the others were coming up with a plan, some sort of act of protection, but you didn’t really care. It was too much to think about, too much to care. Coming back was always a big feat. You’d sleep for days if you could. The water was losing its warmth. It was pink, gory and humane and smelling like metal. It mixed with your coconut soap. Homelander knew who you were involved with. He knew you had enough dirt and secrets on him to ruin him. He’d find you again. He’d torture you again, and kill, and kill, and kill again. You wanted to talk to him, even now. He hated you, but he was also your friend. Instead you let yourself sink deeper, listening to Hughie's promises, trying not to flinch.

[romerona]

All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: Harassment, canon violence. Word count: 8K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

Shells Town, 153 Marine Branch.

Y/N, huffing and puffing, speeds walk through the townspeople, she was late for her shift at Food Foo and all because of that absolute idiot.

That little fucking weasel, he is. Ugh!!! just thinking about it makes her blood boil even more. Whatever, it’s her own fault, she should have known better than to get close to Cygnus or any man really.

She scoffs to herself. ‘She’s no good’ As if he was any better. Both of them had their own things, their own faults, Y/Nthought that was part of why they connected in the first place but it seems she was mistaken. And Y/N would have believed that was his reason for 'dumping' her but she has heard the rumours. She has heard the whispers of him charming up the daughter of one of the lieutenants...

It doesn’t matter anyway, she has been in Shells town for about 6 months now, and she should probably leave soon.

When she finally arrives at Food Fo, Y/N sends Ayana a guilty look when the owner of the restaurant sends her the ‘warning’ look.

Y/N didn’t wait for her to start scolding her, she quickly walked behind the counter, left her guitar there and grabbed her apron, wrapping it around herself and muttering as she did. “I know I know. I’m sorry, Ayana,”

“At least you're here. It seems today is going to be a busy day,” the woman said from the bar, nodding at the plenty of marines, most already falling in their cups.

“Lovely,” Said Y/N with no enthusiasm.

The Marines are the worst. The very fucking worst, they are vile and foul.

Ayana hums in agreement as a cook passes a platter of dumplings, she takes it and then passes it to Y/N before pointing at the table on the back. “Table 5, then take these drinks to 11.”

“Got it,” Y/N nods and quickly makes her way to it, smiling at the customers, a couple, charmingly. “A plate of dumplings for you, a couple of peanuts. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

With that, she left to take the drinks to table 11 whilst greeting her coworkers with a smile as she walked past them. Hours pass and Y/N continues her shift, ignoring the shameless flirting and other hiccups…

“Here are your pork chops and Oden Soup, and not to be biased but our Oden Soup is the best in the whole town,” Y/N said as she softly laid the plate on the table before smiling at the couple and parroting, “Okay, let me know if there’s anything else I can help with, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” said the guy.

“I wasn’t aware they hire about any skank from the streets,” the girl says under her breath before glaring up at Y/N.

“Bree!!” The boyfriend looks at his girlfriend With exasperation.

The girl, scoffs crossing her arms, “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way she’s parading herself around? Everyone here notices it,”

“Bree, please can you not?”

“Can I not what, Laurent? Can I not call her out for her attitude, huh? Why are you defending her?”

Y/N purses her lips, holding back the words that want to escape her lips and takes a couple of steps back, “I’m going to go now…”

“Yeah, you do that,” sharply said the girl, once again her narrow eyes on Y/N.

The girl simply turns and makes her way back to the bar. She leans against the bar and closes her eyes, a tired sigh leaves her.

“Bad table?” Asks Asimi, one of her many coworkers and friends.

Y/N shrugs turning to her, “Nothing unusual, but today has not been my day…”

“I’ll switch mine with yours,” said Rei, another waitress, as she passed a new order to the cook. “I have the most entitled Marines right now, they had me return their meals 3 times already because it's just 'not like what they’re used to' like one would think they got their swords stuck up their ass or something,”

Y/N and Asimi laugh.

“I’m being serious, Y/N, switch tables with me. They’ll be less dickheads to you thanks to that pretty face of yours.” Rei said pinching Y/N's cheek.

Y/N shakes her head, moving away from the girl's fingers, “Thanks for the compliment babes but I’ll take my chances with the match made in heaven,”

“Worth a shot,”

Ayana places two cups in front of Y/N and points at the group in the back, “Table 3, please Y/NN,”

Y/N takes the cups and walks to the table of Marines. She once again smiles at the men as she sets the drinks down. “Here you are! Two beers for the gentleman’s.”

“Hey sweetheart, can I get another round of sake?” Said an older Marine from the next table to them.

Y/N nods, “Sure thing, sweets, anything else you want?”

“Is a kiss from you on the menu?” Laughs the old Marine earning chuckles from others.

Ugh! Disgusting!

“Not on this one, fortunately for me!” Y/N said as he picked up a few empty cups. “However, If you read the menu closer there’s your captain's number in there somewhere maybe you can call it so he can give you that kiss you want? Hope you don’t mind steel, though,”

The Marines around them laughed and so did the older man, Y/N was slightly relief because there had been instances where the Marines did not enjoy her… sense of humor.

Y/N didn’t wait for a response she simply took the last empty cups and made her way back to the bar. She turns to Ayana “A bottle of sake for table 4”

Ayana nods as she looks for the bottle, and Y/N lets her head fall back. She pressed her hands on her shoulders.

Gods, she hates working. Why does she continue working in this job?

Then, as if on cue, Y/N felt two tiny arms wrapping themselves around her middle. Ah, yes, because she’s a softy…. And money.

“Y/NN!!” Rika, Ayana’s daughter, looks up at her.

“I was wondering when you’ll show up,” Y/N laughed as she leaned down to return the hug. “How was school, Rikis?”

“It was alright,” Rika shrugs stepping back, she grins. “I practised the cup trick you showed me,”

“Did you? Well, in that case, you have no choice but to show me, little miss,” Y/N smiles at the girl, she nudges the girl with her elbow teasingly as Ayana places the bottle of sake on the bar.

“Nooo…” Rika chuckles hiding her face under her hands.

“Rika, go change,” Ayana tells her daughter motioning the door that leads to the kitchens.

“We’ll talk about it,” Y/N takes the green bottle and winks at Rika as she moves to take the sake to the Marines.

A couple of more hours pass and the bar thankfully the customers flow in and out with ease. Y/N was glad that her shift would soon be over so she could finally play with the band.

“Take the orders from 16, Y/NN, then you're off,” Ayana says with a nod at the two boys who had just sat down at a table.

“Right on,”

Y/N makes her way to the two boys, one of them has pinkish hair, and round glasses and the other a dark curls under a straw hat and a red vest.

“Hello guys, welcome to Food Foo!” Y/N smiles at them like she does with all her customers. “Can I get you, handsome gentlemen, some drinks to start before deciding what to order?”

The boy with pink hair turned a shade of deep red, a shade Y/N had never seen very little in her life, it was kind of funny. “Uh… I- I…”

“No need, I want one of everything and a milk, please.” Said the boy with the straw hat, smiling back at Y/N.

Y/N was slightly surprised but nodded nonetheless, “A big appetite you’ve got there sweets.”

“Ah, I just love food,” the boy said, tapping his stomach with a grin.

“Who doesn’t?” Y/N nods, writing on her pad, “Food is the best part of life, I’ll say.”

“Right?!! It’s just amazing,”

Y/N laughed at his excitement, he was like a puppy. He was cute. She then turns to the boy in round glasses, “What can I get you to drink, pretty boy?”

“Uh… a- a water would be nice, thank you,” the bright red was still displaying itself on the boy's cheeks.

“Alright, everything will be ready in a few minutes, boys,” She told them, “If you want anything else, please don’t hesitate to call for me,”

With a last smile she left them. She then went to do a few more rounds, cleaning away the dishes and cups, collecting money and such before she was called to pick up the food for the two boys.

“Alright, here you are!” Y/N places the plates on the table. “One of everything,”

Before she even finished putting the plates on the table the boy in a straw hat was already almost finishing his first plate.

“Thank you,” the boy said, his muffled by the food in his mouth.

The boy with pink hair sends her a small grin, “Thank you, miss.”

“No problem boys, call if you need anything else,”

As she left, she glanced at the clock and let out a sigh of relief. Her shift is over, thank the gods. She walked behind the counter took off her apron and took her guitar before walking through the kitchens, where she greeted the cooks.

“You playing today, Y/NN?” asks Gunny, one of the cooks, offering her a plate of chips.

She grins at him as she takes one chip, “Yeap, and I better see you at least once, dumpling. Even if it's peaking.”

“Y’know I never miss your performances,” said the man returning her grin.

Y/N walks to the back of the bar where there is a small room for employees, to change into her clothes. She put in a bit of makeup, some light colour over her eyes, a bit of pink in her cheeks and painted her lips a soft red shade.

“You look so pretty, Y/NN… can you paint me too?” asks Rika, she had slithered her way into the small room a few minutes ago and was watching her do her makeup.

“Last I did, your Ma wasn't happy about it, Rikis,” Y/N told her looking at the girl through the mirror as she twisted her silver locks in a loose braid. “And considering she's the one I'm renting my room to and my boss, I’d rather not risk it.”

Rika huffs in disappointment, leaning against the wall. “You think one day I'll be as pretty as you?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N smiles at her and pulls Rika to look at herself in the mirror next to her. “You are the prettiest girl I know, Rikis.”

“Really?” asks the young girl.

Y/N stands from the old vanity table and sits the girl on the chair. “You so are, sweet girl,” She takes the girl's hair to pull it on a half-up style. “See? You have the prettiest face, and a pretty smile and pretty eyes… and most importantly a pretty heart."

Rika smiles at herself in the mirror, and a giggle escapes her. Rika was such a good child, so very kind. As she stares, Y/N wonders with longing if she has grown to be kind and nice, she should be a couple of years older than Rika if Y/N recalls correctly…

“Are you going to play a love song?” asks Rika, snapping Y/N out of her train of thought.

Y/N wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, “Don’t think so, Rikis.”

“Why?”

“I’m just not feeling it,”

“How come? Did something happened with Cygnus? Did you broke up with him?” The young girl inquires, her eyes twinkling with intrigued.

Y/N let’s out a chuckle, “You are very noisy, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m just informative,” Rika shrugs innocently.

“Of course, you are.” Y/N scoffs a laugh, she nudges Rika’s shoulder. “Come, let’s go out.”

“Oh, please Y/NN,”

“Nope. How about you go make me something sweet for after the show?”

They walk outside, Rika complaining about Y/N not telling her but the older girl simply ignores her and leaves her near the counter before walking to the bar band.

“Hello, dears, ready for tonight?” Y/N said as she approached the three older gentlemen, they had been letting her play a few songs a night with them since she arrived, always practising new songs on the slow days and late nights.

Duke, the violinist, nods as he takes a large gulp of his beer. “As always, lovey.”

“Never expect any less,” Y/N grins, she moves to the small wooden stage, guitar on hand and her charm full on.

As soon as she did, a few cheers echoed around the bar.

Using a Den Den Mushi, Y/N’s voice rings out through the room, with a charisma and ease that speaks of years of practice. "Why, hello everybody!" she exclaims, gazing at the growing crowd of Marines and civilians. "How’s the day been treating ya lot? Better than me I hope.”

The audience cheers, and Y/N’s smile grows wider and lets out a laugh. “Very good, very good.. but how about a song to better it, aye?”

She launches into her first ballad, her voice rising with the rhythm of her guitar.

“I've been sleepin' in my mind

But now my heart is risin'

Risin' with the tide

Floating on a wave

Buoyed by the sea

Carry me away 'cause the world is not for me”

The crowd claps along, lost in the music and the charm of the girl on stage. It's a moment of pure joy, as Y/N’s voice fills the room with sweet melody and a spirit of celebration.

As she continues her song, Y/N noticed someone in between the crowd, a blonde pain in the ass. It took everything in her not to roll her eyes at the sight of Helmeppo.

Out of everyone, the son of the captain (as he always likes to remind everyone about) was the most spoiled, disrespectful, persistent and annoying guy she had come across in her short years of freedom and best believe she had met some annoying people but no one can compare to the blonde with the bad hair.

No matter how many times Y/N has asked him to fuck off, he simply refuses to. It’s as if he couldn't understand the words that come out of her mouth… honestly, she’s never one for violence but she’s getting to a limit.

“No matter where you land or how far you may fall

You have heart, you have hands

And the highest calling of our lives

Is to find the grace at the very place we stand”

With the final chords of her song, she finishes with a flourish and a cheerful smile. The crowd erupts in applause and cheers, ready for more of Y/N’s enchanting performances.

“How’s that for starters, eh?” Y/N’s chuckles at the cheers.

She gives the crowd a cheeky grin and strums her guitar with an extra dose of gusto. She launches into another lively tune, her fingers dancing across the strings as she belts out the words. The crowd is absolutely hypnotized, swinging their heads and tapping their feet to the beat. Y/N’s energy is contagious, and it's not long before the whole bar is rocking with cheer.

The vibe is electric, and it's clear that Y/N is the star of the show. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long because just as she was making her way to the second verse there was the loud distinguish sound of a sword being drawn and the loud pompous voice of Helmeppo ran through the bar.

“Oh, come on, tough guy. Three swords?”Y/N saw him pointing his sword at a green-headed guy who didn’t seem to care as the spoiled blonde teased. “I only need one.”

Y/N tried to keep going but it was almost impossible when the guy with green hair deflected Helmeppo's attack and easily pushed him down, and soon after, a brawl between five or so marines and the one green-haired guy with… what looked like three swords. The guy fought them with ease, he never even drew any of his swords only using his hands as a defence.

It would have been impressive… if he hadn’t thrown one Marine towards her drummer, knocking him back onto the floor.

“Holy- Stu!!” the band gathered around the man who was under a groaning Marine officer.

When Stu is being helped by the other meme era of the band, Y/N turns to glare at the green-headed guy only to see him grab Helmeppos from the floor and pin him against the bar.

“Don’t kill me, please.” Helmeppos pleads with the guy, showing his true colours. “My father will give you anything you want.”

The green-haired guy asks “Who’s your father?”

“Captain Morgan. He’s in charge of the Marine base.” Whimpers Helmeppos.

“Then he owes me money.”

And with that, the green-haired guy dragged Helmeppos and a sack… of something out of the bar followed by a few other Marines.

“Fuck, am I bleeding?” The voice of the Marine woman. She wasn’t bleeding but there was a big red spot in her head.

Y/N helps the woman up and sits her on a near by stall. “No, you're alright.”

“Hey, Y/NN bring some ice for Stu, looks like he got a bump.” Said Duke.

“Yeah,”

As she made her way to the kitchen, she came across something more interesting… an orange-haired girl taking the uniform off a knocked-out Marine and hiding it under her clothes, nothing subtle about that.

The girl didn’t seem to have noticed Y/N, much to her surprise, until she spoke. “Y’know if you walk out of here with that uniform you’ll get arrested, right?”

The girl jumps up and turns to Y/N. “My boyfriend, he got hurt fighting off the drunk guy, I'm just taking it off to prevent it from getting dirtier.”

Y/N looked down at the middle-aged man with receding hairline and then at the orange-haired girl who was definitely too pretty to be the fallen Marine anything but… she’ll play along.

“Right, well, in that case, let me bring you a bag so you can put it there instead,” Y/N said, she turned to leave but was stopped by the girl. She grabbed her arm and turned her back around.

“I don’t need—“

“Believe me, pumpkin, you do!” Y/N motions to the bar exit which is surrounded by other Marines who seem to have already forgotten about the fight. “And unless you don’t want to get dragged to the cells I’ll recommend you wait for me here and let me bring you a bag, I promise it’s not a trap or anything.”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s planning a trap would say,” the girl with bright blue eyes said, still not letting go of her arm.

Y/N shrugs, “Maybe so, but I don’t have any reason to do that.”

“And you don’t have any reasons to help me either,” the girl replies instantly.

“Ah, but I do,” Y/N got closer to the girl and whispered without breaking eye contact, “Fuck the Marines,”

With that Y/N backs away from the girl's hold and moves to the kitchens. She swiftly takes some ice from the freezer and wraps it around a napkin and then a paper bag. She only hopes the girl actually listens to her.

Why are you helping, you might ask well, Y/N has a history with them beyond her interactions with them in the bar and knows their lack of morals. They are good for nothing and always abuse their power… so, fuck them.

Thankfully, the girl did listen to her. When Y/N went back to her she was met by the sight of a pant-less Marine. “Oh, no honey. You do not want to use his pants.”

“Can’t you just give me the bag and move on?” Said the girl, clearly annoyed.

Y/N sighs as she passes her the paper bag. “Sure but I’ll just say that if you wear his pants you’ll look like a clown.”

“Why do you care what I look?” The girl says ripping the bag out of her hand.

“I’m just helping a girl out, that’s all.” Y/N shrugs glancing at the girl's legs. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business—“

“— you’re right, it’s not.”

“— but whatever is it that you’re planning will be ruined because of a pair of pants. So, if you need some pants that go with that shirt, I might have something that could work for you.”

The girls look at Y/N suspiciously “What do you—“

“Y/N, what’s taking you so long?” Duke shouts earning the girl's attention.

“Yeah, coming,” Y/N turns to the girl with the orange hair, “I’ll be out in about an hour, if you want you can meet me in the fountain just a few houses from here,”

With that Y/N makes her way to the stage and gives the napkin to Stu. “Here! Press it firmly because it seems like you're growing a horn, dear.”

“Quit messing with me, girl!”

After a few more minutes of helping Stu out, it was more than decided he couldn’t play anymore so, they cut the show short. Unfortunately.

So, to kill time, she ordered herself water (Which she dumped a large amount of salt when no one was looking) while listening to Rika theatrically replay what happened with Helmeppos and the guy with green hair, a pirate hunter. It seems Helmeppos finally meet the ass-beating he’s been looking for…. Good.

She should give the guy in green her gratitude.

“And he also said my chocolate cover rice balls were delicious,” Rika blushes.

Y/N chuckles, placing a hand on her head, “Don’t tell me little Rikis has a crush on the pirate hunter,”

Rika blushes even further, she swaps Y/N’s hands off her head. “Stooopppp, Y/NN, it’s not funny,”

“Right, sorry.” Y/N chuckles, and she takes a sip of her salty water. “So, are you going to let me taste those delicious chocolate rice balls or those are only for the hunter?”

“Mom said I can’t do that anymore,” Rika said with a huff of dissatisfaction.

“Shame, I really wanted to try it.” Y/NN pouts.

“I can make you something—“

“You should go home and get ready for school tomorrow,” said Ayana from behind the bar.

“But mom-“

“No, go home, Rika. It’s getting late.”

“Fine,” Rika huffs as she stood up from her seat and turns to Y/N, “Night, Y/NN.”

“Nighty sweet girl,” She said back, waving as the young girl leave.

Y/N sighed taking a sip of her water and looking around the bar, it wasn't her first time working as a waitress but this one bar, she had become accustomed to. It was a nice place, she’s never really appreciated it but it was, people here were friendly, caring, kind… Y/N almost does not wish to leave but she has to, she has to keep moving otherwise the past will soon come knocking banging her door down.

“Y/NN,” calls Ayana, making the girl turn to her. The older woman places an envelope in front of her. “This month's pay plus tips for the performances.”

“Thanks,” Y/N takes the envelope and looks in it. A happy amount of berry…. This should be enough. “Hey, Ayana,”

The woman hums in response as she passes a bottle of rum at a Marine before moving to wipe something off the bar.

“I think it’s time for me to go,”

That made the woman stop and turn to her with a frown. “What? Why?”

“It seems now the time,” Y/N smiles at the woman, “I did tell you I’ll be here temporarily,”

“Yeah but… I thought you’d stay a bit longer, it’s been what two-three months?” Ayana moves to face Y/N.

“Six but y’know what they say, time flies by when you’re having fun,” Y/N grins at the woman who in return rolls her eyes. “But, I do need to leave, Ayana. I’m sorry.”

She regards Y/N for a moment she purses her lips before nodding, “If it can’t be helped, I suppose I let you go.”

“You’ve helped me immensely, I really don’t know how to thank you for all that,” Y/N tells the woman honestly.

“Don’t,” said the woman as another waitress came to give her something, “You’ve been a delight to— what do you mean they won’t pay?”

“I reckon the boy with the straw hat said he’ll come back to pay you once he’s king of the pirates.” Said the waitress.

Ayana huffs, and she shakes her head. “Bring him here because I swear to the all four blue seas today it’s not the day to fuck with me.”

The waitress leaves to bring the poor soul who’s about to get their ass handed today. Ayana scoffs crossing her arms, waiting which she hadn’t had to do for long because the waitress returned not seconds after with two familiar boys in tow. One looking oblivious and the other nervous.

“Hello!” Said the straw hat guy.

Ayana narrows her eyes, “Don’t hello me, you little punk, where’s my money?”

“You see, I don’t have it yet but I promise I’ll come back once I find the one piece to pay you. With interest.”

“The one piece?” Scoffs Ayana, “Who do you think you are, boy?”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy and I will be king of the pirates.” The boy, Luffy, said with pride and too much conviction that if Y/N didn’t know any better she’d actually believe him.

Ayana shakes her head in disbelief, “Well, Mr future King of the Pirates, unfortunately, I can’t let you leave without paying so either give me the money you practically inhale in food or I’ll have to call the Marines to take you, your Highness.”

“I do need to get inside the base—“ Luffy was cut off by the pink-haired boy.

“No, please, listen is there something we can do to make up for it?” He asks, fidgeting where he stands, obviously nervous under the woman’s gaze.

As Y/N watched the two boys she couldn’t help but chuckle. There was something about this Monkey D. Luffy… he is so unique. So, she decided.

“No need to do anything, pretty boy,” Y/N said earning everyone's attention. She puts a few berry bills on the table. “That must cover it, right?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to pay for them,”

Y/N smiles at Ayana who was frowning back at her. “Call it my last good deed on this bar,”

Ayana huffs, she stares at the Berry before shaking her head. “Keep it, kid, for your travel.”

“No, honestly, Ayana—“

“I won’t hear anything else,” Ayana sighs, massaging he sides of her head as she walks Into the kitchen. “I need a drink,”.

After a moment of silence, as Y/N was reluctantly pulling the Berry back into the envelope Luffy speaks.

“Hey, thanks for that,” he said causing Y/N to turn her head to him.

“No problem, Monkey D. Luffy.” She grins at him.

The pink haired boy walks forward cheeks comically still red, “W-why did you offered to pay for us? It was quite a lot.”

Y/N shrugs, “I’ll scratch your back you’ll scratch mine, right?”

“You want us to scratch your back?” Luffy tilts his head making Y/N laugh.

“No, stud,” Y/N shakes her head as she moves to her feet, she smirks at Luffy placing a hand forward. “However, I do hope you remember my name when you become the King of pirates,”

Luffy takes her hand in his and shakes, “Why don’t you join my crew? We’ll need a musician on board to keep the spirits high, you’ll be perfect.”

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “I’ll swallow my own guitar before becoming a pirate,”

“What? Why? Being a pirate is awesome,” asks Luffy, the boy was still shaking her hand.

“Because I have had bad experiences with them, so, I’ll much rather not be part of that life,” Y/N said, looking down at the hands that still shake. “You can let go of me now, stud.”

“Oh, right!” Luffy let’s go of her, “But just because you’ve had bad experience with Pirates doesn’t mean they are all like that, we can be different.”

Y/N smiles and looks behind the boy at the clock in the wall. “Maybe but I’ll rather not find out the bad way again. I’ve to go now, Monkey D. Luffy, it was nice meeting you.”

She turns to the pink hair boy with round glasses “You too…”

“Koby,” the boy informs.

“Koby. It was nice meeting you lot,” Y/N says before moving to the exit, ignoring the cat calls from drunk Marines.

As she walks to the fountain, she can’t helped but scoffs at the thought of her being a pirate out of all things. Pirates took everything from her, in what world would she ever become in the thing that almost destroys her?

“Took you long enough,” The familiar voice makes her head snap up.

Y/N grins as she approaches the girl, “I know, sorry. Would you believe me if I told you I just met the future king of the pirates?

The orange-haired girl scoffs, "Another fool who believes they can find the one piece? Right."

"Ha!" Y/N chuckles, shaking her head. She does share the sentiment. "He seems very determined, perhaps he’ll actually do it, though I doubt it,"

"I'll belive it when I see it," The girl scoffs again, she then seems to sober up to ask Y/N, "So, the pants you mention?"

"Right, they're in my room, it's not ar from here just a few houses down," Y/N tells the girl who narrow her eyes.

"Convenient,"

"You can stay here if you want?" Y/N offers, with a tilt of her head, "I have no problem in getting them for you, pumpkin,"

The girl stares at Y/N for a moment, trying to figure out if she's lying or not. "... Fine, I'll wait."

"I won't be long," Y/N calls as she continues her walk to the space just in between a shoe shop and a gardening store.

As soon as was inside her room, Y/N lit up a few candles to light the small room. She puts her guitar down and goes to the dresser to search for a pair of pants, she did own quite a bit of clothes so it would take her a minute. Ever so often, Y/N comes across the few vials of poison she stacks in her clothed for safety and a few of her modified hand fans reminding her that she has to buy a few more vials just before leaving Shells town.

After another minute she finally found the black pants and was on her way back to the girl with orange hair.

"Here! They should fit,” Y/N said, leaning against the fountain and watching as the girl unfolded the pants and placed them over her legs.

When she was satisfied she nodded before folding it back again, narrowing her eyes at Y/N "Why are you helping me? And don't bullshit me with that fuck the Marines excuse. Even as someone who hates the Marines, you're going out of your way to help, why is that?"

"Is it too hard to belive some people just like to see them burn?" Y/N chuckles, she sighs, stiffing a little as she speaks. “The Marines fucked me over, more than once… I just want to make their life miserable even if just a little,”

“And what do you want? Nothing ever is for free in this life, so tell me. I’ve got berry-“The girl huffs crossing her arms.

“I don’t need Berry,” Y/N interrupts, she shrugged thinking for a moment, “Unless you have a boat I don’t think there’s anything you can give me,”

“Say I do, what do you need a boat for?”

Y/N gazes at her, “A ride to the next town,”

“Fine, be at the docks by 12, and not a minute late or I’ll leave you,” the Orange-haired girl said sternly.

“Deal,” Y/N holds her hand out, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nami,” she shook her hand once.

Y/N nods with a wink and starts to walk away, “Right, well, good luck tomorrow, Nami. I’ll be thinking about you,”

Y/N thought she saw a smile on Nami but it was gone as soon as it came.

When morning rolled around, Y/N, with her one bag packed and guitar in hand made her last errands, which included saying her goodbyes to Riki and the employees of Food Foo, it was a teary one but it was better than leaving without saying goodbye. She then needed to get some poison…

There is where everything went to shit.

She needed poison and to get it she had to buy it from Cygnus, unfortunately. Cygnus owns a fish shop in the market street but it was a cover for other more illicit sells.

When she got there Y/N was met with her ex-fling and his new and very hostile victim. Y/N knew who she was, the girl was the daughter of an influential lieutenant of the base, and she like Helmeppos made sure to use it as a threat.

The girl was known for getting people she didn't like in jail for the stupidest things and out of fear most people rather stay out of her way or let her walk all over them.

Y/N, in all honestly, didn't care about her but it seems she should have at least been a bit careful because it wasn't even 10 minutes into the awkward and tense negotiation when she was being dragged to the marine base because the girl started screaming that Y/N was trying to rob them. And for what? Because she told the girl to mind her business after being spoken over once again.

Foolish on her part, because now, she's in Captain Morgan's/Axe hand Morgan’s office when she ought to be waiting for Nami in the docks.

"Trying to rob someone, I heard?" Said Morgan, a large man with a steel jaw. "Didn't think a pretty girl like yourself would commit that petty crime."

Y/N purses her lips, "Because I didn't. Either way, I didn't think the Captain of this entire Marine base would oversee the case of a petty crime, which once again, I didn't commit."

"Only on special circumstances. Take a seat,Y/N," Axe's hand told her, and he motioned with his head to the chair in front of his desk.

Y/N didn't move her gaze from the man with the steel jaw, "I'm okay standing,"

Morgan laughs, "How stubborn of you but I respect it."

His eyes shone with something Y/N had seen many times before and didn't like at all. Desire. Shit, she should’ve known when she was allowed to keep her belongings.

“So, care to tell me why were you attempting to rob the fish shop?” The man asks.

Y/N jaw clutch as she held back an eye roll, “I wasn’t.”

“Then why Kaori accused you of it?” Morgan inquires, his eyebrows shooting up in expectation though, to Y/N it felt as if he was mocking.

“Because she’s insane and a spoiled brat,” snaps Y/N, narrowing her eyes at the older man.

“We’ll, she does has the tendency to exaggerate,” Morgan said as he slowly got up from his seat and made his way around it, “Buy still, it’s her word against yours, a girl that’s been in Shells town for around what? Six months? You see how I can’t simply ignore the statements of my lieutenant’s daughter. However…”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t falter as the man stood in front of her or flinched when his axe hand moved a piece of hair away from her face. It was all very familiar, unfortunately.

“It would be a shame to string you up in the yard… good thing for you I’m willing to come to an agreement that can benefit us… that is if you manage to convince me, pretty girl,”

Y/N glared up at him, her eyes hardening as she prepared to send him away but thankfully for her, before she could, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m busy.” Scowls Axe hand Morgan.

The door opened and a meek Marine girl peeked through. “I-I’m sorry, Captain Morgan but this situation needs your immediate attention.”

Morgan sighs tiredly, he nods at the girl waving his normal hand dismissively. “I’ll be there,”

The Marine girl nods and closes the door, leaving Axe hand to look down at Y/N, “I’ll be back in a minute so we continue where we left off, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Y/N didn’t respond she simply watched him leave and of course, he locked it behind him.

“Shit,”Y/N sighs, still stiff feeling her heart pound in her chest.

She takes a deep breath, not knowing how much time she has until Morgan comes back, she quickly looks around the very… ugly, self-centred office. No wonder why Helmeppos is the way he is.

Y/Ntried opening the windows with all her might but the damned thing didn’t bulge. She tried the door, despite knowing it was futile. She tried and tried but there was no way out.

When she heard the sound of the keys unlocking the door, Y/N tensed as she reached for her War fans that were hidden into her waistband and waited. It wasn’t until she saw the familiar Orange hair and straw did she let herself calm.

“Nami?”

The girl's eyes widen as she enters the office, “Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Calls Luffy a smile gracing his face as he follows Nami inside the office. “Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Nami asks, locking the door behind her. “You know him?”

Y/N looks between them, and sighs. “Long story. What are you doing here. Is it part of your plan?”

“We’re here for the map,” Luffy exclaimed excitedly as he looks around the office mumbling “woah, this guy really likes himself.”

“No, I’m going to find the map.” Nami said as she moves near Y/N, where Captain Morgan desk is. “Let’s pretend he’s not here.”

“But I am here.” Luffy says.

“Wait, what map?” Y/N asks looking at Luffy and at Nami who was scooping through Morgan’s things.

“The map to the grand line,” Luffy said, a grin on his face.

Y/N blinks, ignoring the bickering of the two as the information processing. The grand line? They’re going to steal the map to the grand line… her hearts starts to pound again but for a different reason.

"Every idiot dreams of finding the One Piece." Nami's voice snapped her out to another piece of important information.

Looking at Luffy, Y/N asks, "You're planning to travel to the Grand Line?"

"Yeah!" Exclaims Luffy with his usual grin, "To find the one piece,"

"People like you believe in something and you don’t even know what it is." Nami huffs as she continues to scoop through Morgans's belongings.

"Well, yeah. Don’t you?" Luffy fiddles with the telescope, pointing at Nami, "So why did you decide to become a thief?

Nami spares him a glance, "I didn’t decide. I needed to eat. You do what you have to, to survive."

"Ain't that the truth," Y/N mumbles as she as well gazes over Axe-hand Morgan things.

"You’re right. Nothing more important than food." Luffy moves around, touching just about everything in his way before he turns to Y/N. "And why did you decide to become a singer?"

"I've always enjoyed singing," Y/N shrugs as she decides to help Nami and opens a drawer. "There was a time when I couldn't, so, I made it my mission to sing all I wish anywhere the sea takes me,"

"Is that your dream? To sing around the world?" Asks Luffy.

Y/N shrugs, opening another drawer, "For the most part, I suppose,"

"Can you all just shut up and find the map?" Nami scowls looking through the pages of a book.

"Where you reckon he has it-"

Y/N was cut off by the desk suddenly sliding out of place, displaying a large hidden safe. They all looked at each other before Nami dropped beside it and placed her head near the lock.

Suddenly, an alarm started to blast, echoing all around the base.

"Shit," Breaths out Y/N, she moves to the window again, trying to pull it open.

"Uh… Do you think they know we’re here?" Luffy asks as he lowers himself next to Nami.

"No, I think they’re after the other thief and idiot pirate trying to steal a map." Nami scowls sarcastically.

Luffy grins, "What are the odds of that?"

Both Y/N and Nami, stop their doing to stare at the boy in a straw hat.

Luffy looks between the girls before uttering with an innocent chuckle "Kidding."

"Nami, not to stress you or anything but can you work a little faster?"

As soon as those words left her there was a banging on the door making the three of them jump.

"Open up!" Morgan's voice rang through the door along with the bangs "By the authority of the 153rd Marines!"

"You need to hurry," Luffy stresses.

Nami grunts, her ear still near the lock, "I can’t rush this!"

Morgan was now using his axe hand to get inside the office.

Y/N moved next to Nami, "There's no time for that,"

"I have an idea," Luffy tells the girl forcing Nami to move as the straw-hat boy grabs into the safe and starts to pull.

"Are- are you trying to pull the safe out?" Y/N asks in disbelief, trying her best to ignore the growing hole Axe-hand Morgan was creating on the door.

"Yeah," Luffy grunts as he continues to pull and pull and much to her surprise his arms were starting to... stretch?

Y/N tilts her head in confusion and amazement. She and Nami shared a look when the safe actually seemed to bulge.

The door bangs again and Y/N doesn't waste a second, she grabs Luffy's waist, Nami following her after her. Before Y/N is aware of what is happening, she feels her stomach rise to her throat. They were falling out the freaking window.

"Fucking..." Y/N grunted when they reached the ground, she felt her side hurting from where she had landed but there was no time for that. She quickly dropped the annoying bags off her shoulders and stood up, shaking off the pain.

"How did you do that?" Asks Nami as she rips the Marine's shirt off.

However, before Luffy could answer, they were surrounded by Marines. Y/N quickly pulled out her two war fans and took a defensive stand next to Nami who was holding onto her staff.

She used her quick reflexes and agile movements to evade their attacks while landing swift blows with her fans. With a quick flick of her wrist, she knocks one Marine to the ground and uses the momentum to twist her body, dodging another. Her movements are as graceful as they are deadly, and she slips through the chaos of battle with remarkable ease.

Meanwhile, Luffy and Nami are in their own battles, each utilizing their unique skills to take down the Marines. Luffy, with his fists and legs, dodges and attacks at will, while Nami wields her staff with expert precision, taking in multiple Marines at once.

However, more and more Marines kept coming. It was starting to get overwhelming. Y/N suddenly felt a sharp pain in her back making her stumble, she turned to fight off the Marine but to her surprise, someone else had joined the fight and sliced the Marine off of her.

With a final fierce strike of her fans, Y/N takes down the remaining Marines and is quick to meet with Nami, Luffy and-- "Hey, aren't you the guy from the bar?"

"The drunk?" Nami added to the question.

"Glad I made an impression." The guy said, sparing the girls a glance.

They turned their attention to the man who had just entered the yard. Axe-hand Morgan.

"The imposter, the pirate hunter, the thief and the prisoner." Called the Captain as he approached them, looking between each of them. "Fancy that. The four of you working together."

"Yeah. We’re a crew!" Luffy declared to which the three others were quick to deny.

"Nope, not a crew."

"Nah-uh,"

"Not together."

"No enemy has ever escaped my wrath. I alone defeated the Black Cat Pirates." As he brags, Morgan begins to take off his Marine vest, displaying his scars from past battles, "I alone captured Kuro of the Thousand Plans. And I alone keep Shells Town safe from the scum of the East Blue."

He takes a fighting stan and so do the four others.

Y/N held into her sharp war fans, hoping some of the paralyzing poison she had covered the blades with hadn't all worn off.

Morgan's first strick was met with the guy with green hair swords but was thrown off, then Luffy tried to strike him but was unsuccessful. Y/N was going to slice his face off but a grunt from Nami stopped her, noting she was fighting the upcoming Marines off herself Y/N decided to help because even if all her impulses were yelling at her to cut Morgan's dick off she wasn't about to leave Nami to fend for herself.

Nami uses her staff to block the Marines' attacks, while Y/N uses her fans to deflect and dodge their strikes. The two work in unison, their teamwork making them a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Nami strikes out with her staff, taking down one Marine after another. Her strikes are powerful and precise. Y/N uses her fans to take down the others, she strikes with precision, her movements fluid and graceful and when all of the Marines are down, Y/N turns to Nami, both girls sharing a look of respect for one another.

"Gum Gum Whip!" Luffy's voice rang through the yards forcing them all to turn to watch as his leg stretched inhumanly before kicking Axe-hand Morgan, knocking him off.

"Whoo!" Luffy celebrates his victory.

Y/N shares yet another look with Nami as both girls put their weapons away.

"Gum Gum Whip?" Asks the green-haired boy.

Luffy nods excitedly as he approaches the other guy, "Yeah! All the great fighters call out their finishing moves."

"No, they don’t."

"Some do," Y/N breathes out, turning to him, "What's your name, Hot Shot?"

"I'm Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter," The guy, Zoro, said as he put his three swords away.

"And the future greatest swordsman in the world," Luffy added with conviction.

"Well, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet ya,"

Nami interrupted, looking over at the safe, "Hate to break up this beautiful moment, but we need to get this safe out of here."

"Some rope might be useful." Y/N hums, looking about while taking back her disregarded things.

But then, as if it were nothing, Zoro grabbed the safe and hauled it up into his shoulders.

"Or we can do that." Y/N mumbles, gazing at Zoro, impressed. It was kind of hot.

Soon, the four of them were jumping into Nami's small boat. She gave Y/N instructions to pull up the anchor as she unfolded the sails

"Careful with that!" Nami scowls Zoro when the guy all but throws the safe down.

"Whatever you say." Zoro tells her as he continues to roughly move the safe into the small boat, "Oh, wait. I don’t work for you."

Nami glares at Zoro prompting Luffy to speak. "I’m sensing a little bit of tension amongst the crew."

"Not a crew!" They all rebottle.

Ignoring them, Luffy stands on the dock looking around, "I can’t leave without my friend."

"Koby?" Y/N asks as she finishes pulling the anchor up.

Luffy nods, "He should be around somewhere,"

"Can’t wait,” Zoro tells him, "The Marines will be here."

"The Marines are here already." The annoyingly familiar voice of Helmeppos made the four of them turn to him, he was holding two guns up, "You’re under arrest."

"What happened to you?" Y/N, unfazed by the guns, laughs.

Luffy nods, laughing with her. "Yeah, what’s wrong with his hair?"

"Yeah, I might’ve done that," Zoro informs them, proudly.

"Nice work, Hot Shot" Y/N chuckles approvingly.

Helmeppos fires a shot near Zoro forcing a shriek out of Y/N, however it seems that she was the only one to have a reaction to a gun being fired because not even that fazed the pirate hunter, Nami or Luffy.

"I won’t let you make a joke of me. I’m taking you in and handing you over to my father." Helmeppos said, an air of superiority oozing out of him. "I’ll be the hero. I might even get a medal or something--"

Helmeppo's rant was cut short by Koby, who had satisfyingly punched the blonde down.

"Koby?" Luffy exclaims, impressed by his friend's actions.

"God, that hurt!" Koby looks down at his fist but then he smiles, "It also felt really good too."

Luffy swiftly urges Koby near the boat, "No time to explain, but we gotta go. This whole island is trying to kill us."

"I’m not coming with you," Koby said causing Luffy to halt his steps.

"You sure?" Luffy asks.

"Before we met, every choice was made for me. But now I’m gonna do what I want to do." Koby said with determination making all the others stare at him, "I’m gonna be a Marine. I want to help people that can’t help themselves."

Y/N smiles at him. She can tell he has a kind heart which is more than what half the Marines will ever have. She can only hope that he protects it.

"Next time we meet, we might be enemies," Koby tells Luffy but the straw hat boy didn't seem bothered by that.

"But for now… we’re friends."

Luffy nudges Koby in a friendly manner before getting into the boat where Y/N, Nami and Zoro are working to unravel the remaining sail to begin their travel.

And the boat finally starts to sail, leaving the decks and island behind. Y/N looks back at Shells Town, what was her home for six months, half a year, is now a memory. Usually, leaving a town leaves her with a bittersweet feeling until she gets to the next one to do it all over again but now, knowing that the Map of the Grand Line is within reach, she has a new plan in mind.

Find her sister.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love, be safe.

Divider by @cafekitsune 3

[highhhfiveee]

smoke break

here ye here ye i'm having satoru gojo thots o_0

pairing: line!cook satoru gojo x blackfem!reader summary: workplace relations were always a no, yet, that doesn’t stop satoru gojo from falling for the new waitress.  wc: 2k tags: fluff [nothing suggestive, no smut, just pure CUTENESS]! non-curse au, line cook!satoru gojo, BOH shift lead!ryomen sukuna [LMAO], f!reader. cigarette smoking occurs. also i've seen the bear but all of my kitchen knowledge comes from my own work in kitchens and restaurants. this is slightly [highly] self-in[dulgent]sert lmao. a/n: y'all, okay. i’ve been writing part five of safety net but i CANNOT get this fucking thought out of my head cause i’ve been watching jujutsu kaisen and i am obsessed 😭 not only with the show, but the world, characters and everything [the big three is my family fr i don’t play ab them]. IN SAYING THAT, i was at work one day and boop! in my head pops a non-curse au of line cook!gojo. when i told my roommate this, they looked at me like i was certifiably insane because “there is nothing attractive about line cooks” [see exhibit A] but please please PLEASE Y’ALL HEAR ME OUT! Y’ALL ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO WILL UNDERSTAND!

like imagine being the new girl at your job, a diner-style restaurant parked dead center in a high traffic plaza on the outskirts of the city, and even though you swore you’d never work in food service again after leaving your previous hellhole of employment, of course you find yourself walking up to the employee entrance rehearsing your script.

“hi! my name is y/n, i’ll be your server today….hi! my name is y/n, i’ll be taking care of you today…howdy, i’m y/n…ugh, really? fucking howdy?”

you’re so caught up in your perfect waitress greetings, staring down at your non-slippable feet when you crash into someone [a tree] wearing all black exiting the bathroom corridor.

he’s so tall that only his torso knocks into your shoulders, jolting your step and causing you to lose your footing.

you’re squealing out a million things; gibberish because you’re falling, “i’m so sorry!” for not paying attention, and…”thank you,” rather quietly as you feel a strong arm keeping you from crumbling onto yourself.

the movement is quick, so light that you’re not sure if he actually helped you up or if you’d just levitated back to your feet; either way, you’re silent as he stares down at you with the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen, a glint in them that matches the small smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth.

“careful now,” he playfully chastises, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair as he walks away from your frozen frame, his stride as confident as ever as he turns the corner to the kitchen.

you shake your head softly, knowing that you shouldn't think too much into the interaction. it was short, one, and two, if your years of work in this industry taught you anything, it was not to get involved with anyone that worked in the kitchen. front of house and back of house didn't mix, not that way.

you're grateful that you're not even able to think about it after you clock in, your brain unable to process your racing thoughts of gojo’s touch and the millions of tables that you’ve had to take; order after order after order stacks up against the feeling of his arm around your waist and a few hours into your shift, it becomes a passing memory.

while you’re not able to see gojo with the amount of back and forth you’re doing, he’s able to take you in in all your beautiful glory.

you’re wearing the usual all black: a button down that shows off a mole on your collarbone and well-fitting black slacks. your hair is thrown back into a slick ponytail, your black and white scrunchie nearly concealed by the sheer amount of dark brown curls it contained. little flyway ringlets frame your eyes, wide, brown pools that gojo knows will be impossible not to melt into; though he’s observed you for most of his shift, top to bottom, your lips captivate him the most.

full, bow-shaped and painted powdery red, he nearly burns himself on the grill watching you take someone’s order, a tinge jealous of the warm, genuine smile you give them.

“yo, ‘jo. focus! we got, like, eight cheesesteaks all day and you’re over there gawkin’ like a dumbass. look, the meats’ burnt!” he remembers where he is and what he's doing, senses prickling at the calls of "corner!" and "hot!" and the sound and smell of food cooking all around him.

“shut the fuck up, ryo….and it’s not burnt!” gojo sharply retaliates, looking down to the profoundly browned shaved steak. he grabs for his spatula, ignoring ryomen’s dickish chuckles behind him. “shit.”

he manages to focus somewhat, knocking out a few more hours of his shift without letting his eyes wander over to your slim frame as you shimmy between tables, or his ears catch the soft lilt of your voice as you ask someone what they'd like their side to be.

he tucks you into the back of his mind, keeping your presence within as small as he possibly can.

you’re still in residence up there when he takes his first [third] smoke break, stepping out back. he can still hear the plain muzak from inside reverberating against the insulation, the open and closing of car doors all over the plaza, and the rattle of the wind through the chain link fence that keeps him separated from the world 10 hours a day.

all he can do is sigh at the monotony of it all, leaning against the bricks while he fishes his cigarette carton from his back pocket.

deep down, he knows he should quit. he could count the number of people that have asked him to quit on both hands, but always waved off their concerns. there was nothing better to calm his nerves, or help relieve the agitation he felt from working with ryomen, friend or not.

he’d always said that a cigarette or four a day wouldn’t kill him, though he wasn’t sure why he always chose to tell such a boldfaced lie.

he snakes a cig between his lips, grabbing for his lighter and closing his eyes before that crackle he knows all too well fills the void around him.

not seeing the end of the cigarette flame red is another lie on gojo’s part; if he can’t see the chemical reaction working to activate the toxic substances, there’s no damage he can do to himself.

it’s illogical, once again, though it’s his own logic, and to him, it makes sense.

“my dad used to do the same thing,” gojo’s eyes fly open, his breath catching in his throat as he glances at you, your hand pressed against the cracked door. you give him a little smile before fully stepping out into the breezy summer air, taking a deep breath. “you light the cigarette with your eyes closed so you can fool yourself into thinking that you’re not actually harming yourself.”

gojo exhales smoke, watching with careful eyes as you pace before him. you catch his stare, blinking slowly before saying, “he lived by that until he didn’t.”

if he didn't know any better, he would've thought you were a completely different girl from the one he'd bumped into this morning; then, you'd seemed so reserved, so meek, but now, he realizes that he'd like to get to know the real you. he was sure you didn’t even know his name, but here you were, condemning his MO like it was your place.

he hated anyone telling him off, even slightly, but he found himself more than willing to hear you out; more than willing to let you do it again and again and again.

“you come out here jus' to scold me?”

“no,” you answer plainly, coming to a stop just a few inches from him. “i came to smoke too, but my pack was empty. i asked someone in the kitchen for one….who was it…oh! ryo said he didn’t have any, and that i should come out here and ask satoru."

gojo’s heart skips a small beat at you using his first name instead of his last; he forbade anyone he didn’t know from using it, ryomen knew that, but of course he’d play these juvenile games. gojo could see the shit-eating grin plastered over his face now, his full laugh radiating throughout the kitchen at his scheme.

“i assume you're satoru, unless he was just messing with me.”

"don't mind him. he's a dickhead," gojo swears, deliberating on how he's gonna make ryo pay for this as he begins to reach for his pack again. he's not expecting you to stop him with a gentle touch to the wrist, though.

“oh no, i don’t need a full one….is it okay if we share yours?”

gojo nods, silent and alert as your fingers glide against his in order to slip the cigarette to your grasp. he nearly closes his hand around yours, embarrassingly.

you take your first drag with a hum, your eyelashes fluttering as you turn to the sunset and exhale with no effort, no cough.

“i don’t usually smoke whole cigarettes. i go through maybe…two in a day? a couple hits here and there is usually enough to get me through."

“this must be your first food service job then.”

“try sixth,” you respond jadedly. you take another hit, and another, and another, and gojo doesn’t even mind that you’ve seemingly forgotten to pass the cigarette back to him. he can tell that you're lost in the tale you're telling, and he wants to keep you there with him. “i’ve been through my chain smoking days, trust me. seeing what happened to my dad definitely made me assess whether a pack a day was really worth it.”

with the mention of your nicotine journey, he begins to hear the scratch in your voice, noticeable more when you’re talking in this low, casual tone. as unfortunate as it is, its method of fruition, gojo can’t help but think about how sexy you sound and how he'd listen to you talk about anything if it always came out like that.

“why not quit then?”

you giggle, throwing gojo a pointed look that makes him want to swallow you whole. you purse your lips, ready to challenge him with your response.

“we all have our vices, don’t we?”

gojo returns your laugh, standing to his full height. he crosses his arms across his chest as he stares down at you staring up at him. your height difference is almost laughable, with your head barely even reaching his shoulders.

his mind begins to wander to X-rated places as you take your spot on the wall beside him, allowing the wind to graze your skin and create a conversation between the two of you that requires no words.

“shit!” you snap after a while, looking to the now small cigarette between your index and middle finger. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to smoke so much of it.”

“’s all good. maybe...you’ve convinced me to smoke in moderation.”

you give him that smile, warm and genuine, and his heart flips again as you slip the remnant of his cig back into his palm, letting your fingertips linger for just a moment longer than you should.

“maybe…i’ll have to hold you to that, satoru.” you dust your hands off on your pants before poising yourself to return to the hustle and bustle of the dinner rush. “i’m y/n, by the way. it’s nice to meet you. thanks for the smoke, andcatching me earlier, as embarrassing as that was."

“i’ve seen worse,” he reassures, but while he'd seen much, much worse, he was positive that he had never witnessed anything better than you. even in the small, nearly six hour window that he’d known you, he's unwaveringly sure that you’re his heaven personified.

“i’d hate to know what’s worse, but then again…if that means i get to talk to you, maybe i don’t.” you give him a wink, an actual good one, and he nearly drops to his knees, uncharacteristically ready to wholly give himself over to you.

you give him one more smile and a wave before leaving him alone, his brain alternating between reeling and shutting down.

he looks down to the filter in his palm, chuckling at the negligible amount of tobacco you left for him. he’s about to toss it into the stack of other disregarded butts as routine calls for when he notices the red marks smeared all over it.

he holds it a bit closer to his face, examining the soft, messy lipstick stains you’ve left behind. it’s art, something he thinks should be showcased in the MoMA or The Louvre, titled how satoru gojo fell in love.

while he wouldn't be able to get it to either of those places anytime soon, he decides that behind his ear works as a close third, and finishes the rest of his shift with that reminder of you close to him.

LIKE ISNT THIS SO CUTE????? I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS, PLEASE OMG! I PLAN TO CONTINUE THIS AU BUT PLEASE SEND ME YOUR JJK REQS! 

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

*exhibit A

i love you all 🫶

[bisexualdawnsummers]

trick or treat 🎃

Thank you! I hope you enjoy these treats <3 🍬🍫 🍬

Ray winced, flipping the channel to cut off a young woman’s blood curdling scream. His lip curled, finding nothing but gruesome scenes one after the other displayed on the tv. “Ugh.” He clicked the tv off and tossed the remote aside. He plunged his hand into the candy bowl in his lap and dug around. He frowned and looked down to see nothing but empty wrappers. His stomach roiled suddenly with the realization of how much candy he’d eaten. Maybe volunteering for hand out duty had been a bad idea, but everyone else had better things to do, and Ray hadn't felt like going out anyway. He wasn’t really in the festive spirit this year. It was his first Halloween since Vegas, and Ray felt that he’d had enough of wearing a costume to last him a lifetime. He rubbed a hand over his belly as he shoved the bowl away. He stood up and headed for the door. Might as well turn off the porch light and call it a night.  He’d flicked the light off and was halfway up the stairs when the bell sounded. He paused for a few seconds, seeing if they would give up. When the bell chimed again, he sighed and trudged back down the stairs. There wasn’t anything left in the bowl, so they’d have to settle for a few pieces of the butterscotch things his Ma kept in a dish on the foyer table.  Ray’s breath caught as he swung open the door. He blinked, mouth hanging open. Either it was the best costume he’d ever seen or… “Benny?”  Fraser's hands fiddled with his hat, slowly rotating the brim of the Stetson between his fingers. The corners of his mouth wavered with an almost grin.  Ray’s eyes were wide as they swept over him from head to toe. It had been months since he had last seen Fraser. He'd been afraid that all he had left was that final glimpse of Fraser standing by his hospital bed that was half-lost in a haze of painkillers. “What are you…?” Fraser tipped his hat, top down, and held it out. His grin broke free fully, brows arching. “Trick or Treat?”  Ray huffed a surprised laugh. “Sorry, Benny, I’m all out of candy.”  Fraser’s lips turned down, a crease forming between his eyes. “Oh dear. That’s too bad.” He took a step forward, grin flickering back to life. “Well, Ray, I’m sure that you have something sweet that you can offer me as a substitute.” He lifted a hand to cup Ray’s cheek, eyes glinting with a warmth that Ray could feel ignite in his own chest.  Ray’s hand covered Fraser’s as he leaned into the touch. He shuffled closer to Fraser. “Yeah, Benny. I’m sure I can think of something.”

fic writer's trick or treat

Bonus treat under the cut (warning for mature content): A rough excerpt from my rayv/leather!mountie fic

The costume really was meant to be a joke; the idea of a leather clad Mountie was just too absurd, Ray couldn’t pass it up. He never could have imagined that the real Mountie would end up in a place like that. Seeing Fraser there had shaken Ray’s foundation. Ray had worked very hard to keep himself from thinking about Fraser and sex in the same context. As far as Ray was concerned, Fraser was like a life-sized action figure under the uniform. He had to think of him like that, it was the only way that Ray could keep working with him, keep being his friend, without losing his mind. Seeing Fraser in that place, surrounded by sin, by people who had no shame about giving in to what they wanted, no fear of what people might think, had broken something open in Ray. The sight of Fraser there, Mr. Prim and Proper, always untouched, no matter how much dirt he was standing in; It just made Ray want to mess him up even more, to see the Mountie clothes ripped open, get them filthy. Ray had barely been able to look at him; the man who blushed and stammered when a pretty woman batted eyes at him, looking for all the world like he belonged with people like that. Like he was one of them. The idea that Fraser might– Ray squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. His fingers curled, nails biting into the flesh of his palms. When he opened his eyes again after a long moment, Jameson was staring at him, narrowed eyes, shrewd and intent. His head was angled slightly to the side and the tip of his tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth. His arms were folded over his broad chest that that damned leather Serge was stretched across. God, he was like the perfect perversion of Benny.

[discotitsposts]

true genius-

my actual favorite episode ever ever ever I’m SO INSANE FOR THIS EPIDODE

this is like the first one o watched on my own ITS SO GOOD

reid centered so yayy

this is how i fell in love w him

spoilers ahead

YAYYYYY NOSTALGIA!!!!!!!

lol typical making out in a car

DID I MENTION THISBIS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE EPISODE

FINN WITTROCK IS IN THIS TOO

the zodiac killer case is so interesting like wym dude never got caught

A FETISH FOR TREES

POOR BABY IS SO NERVOUS

ITS HIS BJRTBDAY IN THIS EP TOO

the cOUGHING

“yes a fetish for trees” HES SO AWKWARD I LOVE YOU REID

no he LEAVES NOOO

lol this guy runs a company

The way if reid was at a conference i’d run and be listening to every word

awww reid’s sad :(

rossi lol “no way” yes way

this is so interesting like how did bro get the original artifacts from the real case (i know how he did it)

reid reid reid!!!!

imagine if spencer knew how many people love him and write fanfic about him LMAO

he’d be a little terrified let’s be honest

but just a little

UGH EVERYONES SO HOT

“three can keep a secret if two are dead” i thought this was criminal minds not pretty little liars

i can’t even tell you how many times i’ve seen this episode

like this is MY episode i claim this one lol

CHESS YOUNKNOW WHO ELSE LIKES CHESS

SPENCER

bros playing chess on break

SPENCERRRRRR

lol enlightening

he wants the printed out version of the paper 💞💞

the way spencer just knew this wasn’t the real zodiac killer is why i was like this guys great 💞💞💞 my heart

AHHHHHHAHEJDJWBEWJWIROSOWBDBEKENFNF

IM SO EXCITED TI BE WATCHING THIS ONE

it’s so funny because i’ll be watching this show and this is my view

the barbie’s r like wtf

THIS GUY LYING ABOUT HIS COUISN

lol reid ended this guy

LOL

LUCKILY I GUESS ITS NOT YOUR COUSIN AHAHAH ATE

FINN WITTROCK💞💞

LOL his presentation

“your soulmate is standing before you now” is he talking about the lady or himself

i remember originally watching this because finn wittrock but fell for spencer/matthew instead lol

i like this detective from the local pd

“where do people find the time” lol reid

dr spencer reid i love your mind

“youre not as smart as you think you are” 😫😫😫💞💞💞SIR IM STUPID FOR YOU 💞💞💞

REID IN PURPLEEEEEE

OMG HES STANDING IN THE SUNLUGHT

y’all have to see this

UGHHHH💞🕳️🕳️🕳️💞💞💞

profile!!

REID AT THE COFFE SHOP STOEOEJDWH

dude has a detective board

lol he thinks she wants to call off the wedding

bro she doesn’t want you

REID NO YOUVE PASSED EXPECTSTIONS YOURE PERFECT I LOVE YOU

“How old are you 29,”

“I’m 30” NOOOOOOOOOOO

nikola tesla my beloved

emily lol

doesn’t he accidentally see a pattern lol dudes so smart

emily’s little smile lol

for he

god he’s so smart

the problem is i think i could understand the code and idk my iq but it’s prob not 160 or above

how do u even calculate that shit

reid’s face is perfect

the taxi driver, didn’t he kidnap the best friends wife from the back of the cab

i don’t think i made this very clear but this is my favorite episode EVER

i’m gonna fucking bite spencer if he keeps being so adorable

finn ain’t no angel in this

vegas!! matthew’s hometown

REID IN THE BACKGROUND

heTALKSK SO FAST I LOVENIT SM

mY leg itcjes

i also would like to catch the zodiac

REID ON THE FHAIR

staring at nothing

HAHAH

best friend activities

REIDS HANDS MOVE SO FAST

i need him now

aDmiT iT yOure HaVing FuUuN

i literally can’t get cozy

A CHESS SWUARE

listening to him💞 💋

no matches

doesn’t he plant a piece of evidence

yep

they found him

o love when reid comes up behind him

bro kidnapped his future wife

UEAH THEY KILLED SOMEONE OMG

it’s spencer reid’s world we’re just living in it

bro said “sanctimonious” wtf does that mean

“not really” 💞💞💞💞💞

the vest 😫😫💞💞

i don’t think harvey here is going to shanghai anymore he going to jail

SULPHURIC ACID dude that’s insane

LOL REID “i’m sure he’ll send you a postcard”

AWWW REID AND HIS COFFEE

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

spencer reid you’ve made the biggest difference in my life 💘💘💘

AWWWWWW HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPENCER

lol morgan the way he’s in his 40s now😭

awww him blowing out the candles he looks so happy

the end

MY FAVORITE EPISODE MWAH MY BELOVED 💋💋💋💋

[teaandransacking]

Hey, i was wondering if I might request a little something? I hoped you might be able to write something about Lockwood x reader, where the reader is from fittes and there is like a enemy to lovers kind of arch. Thank you very much I adore your writing!

Thankyou SO much <3

I couldn't quite get them to the lovers stage but I hope you enjoy this.

They don’t even wear a uniform, for God’s sake.

How is anyone meant to know who agents work for without some sort of uniform?

It’s what you thought that day in the library, when Anthony Lockwood showed off some annoyingly impressive rapier skills and launched Kipps’ own sword into the ceiling. 

He had, in fact, needed a ladder.

You’d thought about Lockwood’s face a lot after that - the smug little smirk.

And you hated that you didn’t always think about him with irritation. Sometimes you thought about kissing that smug little smile off his face.

Ugh.

The next time was at the party., under lights that flattered his - okay, fantastic - bone structure way too much. He was with Lucy (who looked fabulous in that electric blue dress), while you stuck with Bobby and Kipps, taking advantage of the little coq au vents.

Lockwood caught your eye as you passed through the crowd, close enough to speak.

“Lucy not around to protect you?” you asked, keeping your tone saccharine sweet.

He just raised a brow. “Unlike Fittes’ crew, I don’t feel the need to hide behind someone, or something, else.” He shrugged. “What you see is what you get.”

“Which is fine, if you want a two-bit agency run by a teenage boy.”

If the words bristled, he didn’t show it, just aimed that megawatt smile at you. You curled your hand into a fist, letting the bite of your nails distract you from how diverting he was. 

“A boutique agency well used to pivoting to accommodate bespoke requests. If you’ll excuse me.”

And off he went, slipping into the crowd, leaving you vibrating with frustration, but also, already missing him.

The next time you see him, it’s nowhere near as glamorous a setting. The local supermarket, in fact. He’s standing by a display of fruit, and his arm is in a sling. You do a double take for a second - he isn’t wearing his suit, but instead a pair of jeans - jeans? - and a t-shirt, to, you assume, make room for the sling.

He fumbles the paper bag and it slips out of his hands, dancing through the air towards the floor. “Dammit,” you hear him mumble.

You nip forward and catch it, and you look up when he looks down, and your eyes meet.

“I might’ve known,” he says softly as you offer him the bag. “Kipps send you to gloat over my invalid state?”

“No, actually. I’m just here buying apples, like you,” you scoff. “And Kipps asks after you, you know? He isn’t all bad. It’s just his way. He’s a great agent.”

Something passes over Lockwood’s face, but he doesn’t disagree. You wish he would make some snippy comment, but apparently, he’s too much of a gentleman for that. 

You respect that, and it annoys you. 

“Can I help?” you ask instead, gesturing to the paper bag. “You can’t hold that and pick apples.”

Why you’ve offered, you don’t know. But you do know that he smells of earl grey tea and magazine pages and citrus, and it’s heady, intoxicating, and when he says, “Thankyou, I appreciate it,” his accent is as crisp as the first bite into a Braeburn on an autumn day.

He asks for three Pink Lady apples - George’s favourite - three Jazz, and three Red Delicious. You inhale greedily as you select the last three, they smell fresh and naturally sweet.

“These are divine. So tempting.”

“On that, we agree,” he responds, and is it your imagination, or do you feel his gaze linger on your mouth?

You are obviously going insane. Lockwood isn’t interested in you. Your main activity when together is trading barbs.

Which is kind of fun-

You help him take the apples to the checkout. He aims that blinding smile at the cashier and gets his fruit bagged for him, and then you head out the door together.

“Well, it was nice to see you in a situation where neither of us wants to use our rapiers on the other,” he begins.

You laugh. “Speak for yourself.”

“Well, then. Until next time.” And he turns toward Portland Row.

“Wait!” You call to his back. His legs go on for days in those jeans. It should be illegal. 

He stops, and then slowly turns. The breeze tugs at one loose lock of his dark hair. He could be on magazine covers. You love that and you hate it. 

“What is it?”

You cast around for the reason you’ve asked him to stop. There isn’t one, other than the fact you feel drawn to him. He gives off a sort of comforting energy; you want that. “Do you like apple pie?”

His eyes narrow for a second. “Of course. Who doesn’t like apple pie?”

“Well, I have a great recipe, if you’ve got flour and butter and sugar for pastry.”

“Considering George would rather fall on his sword than be found without a well stocked larder, I’m confident that we have those things. Both he and Lucy are out, though - at the Archives, and after, Lucy’s off for a few days, to visit a friend.” His gaze stays trained on yours. “So you’d be stuck with just me.”

Your stomach twists with anticipation - both of the pie, and being alone with him. “Well, that depends. How do you take instruction?”

A smile tugs up the corner of his mouth. “I can’t say it’ll all be smooth sailing.”

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Three hours and one almost perfect apple pie later, you find out that he takes instructions on kissing way better than baking.

But that’s perfect. Because it wouldn’t be fun not to trade barbs some of the time.

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // eighteen

| @maladi777 | @poisonedsimmer | @mangopysims

next / previous / beginning

COURTESANS: Bye, bye! Thanks for coming! ASTER: Even when I’m not paying, they get all my money… TALILA: You were robbed? ASTER: Robbed? Yes, let’s go with that. Anyways, I’m sure not up to snuff, perhaps milady will escort me back to my room? TALILA: No, no, I think you’re better off with a different sort of escort. ASTER: Eh? TALILA: Tada! ASTER: Pass. TALILA: Oh go on. I’ll see you both tomorrow! ASTER: Little devil… who taught her this? THERION: I have an idea. ASTER: Ugh, on second thought, I’m not that drunk. I’ll head back on my own. THERION: You’re still avoiding me, then? ASTER: I told you I— ASTER: sighs Oh, alright, fine. Let’s go. THERION: I admit, I didn’t expect you’d be so bothered. I always thought you were type not to get hung up on anything. ASTER: I’m not hung up. Look, I don’t like to let things get to me. But sometimes, things get to me. THERION: It’s just a game— ASTER: I’ve played those kinds of games before. Not willingly, and it was never my turn. It’s always the ones laughing who write the rules, and those on the receiving end of a poorly dealt hand, well, it’s not that fun. THERION: I just… ASTER: If you want to go around mucking people up in trials, I can’t tell you not to. THERION: I don’t want to upset you, Aster. ASTER: Why should you care? THERION: Well, you’re my friend. ASTER: Friend? That’s… interesting. THERION: At least, I thought we were. I guess maybe I was wrong. ASTER: I don’t know if you are. Honestly, I’ve never stayed long in anyone’s lives, and they’ve never stayed long in mine. I’m sure once we all leave here, we’ll go our separate ways. Are we “friends”? Maybe, for a time. While it’s convenient. I don’t know. I’ve never had one before. THERION: Never? ASTER: Are friends people you see from time to time? People you’re familiar with that probably wouldn’t bat an eye if they saw you in a spot of trouble? I’ve got people I’d drink with. Hells, maybe even people I’d lend a silverpence, if the timing was right. But beyond that, beats me. THERION: I would say… a friend is some you can rely on. Someone who wouldn’t go out of their way to hurt you, because even if they might not say so, they care about your happiness, and they want to see you well. Maybe your ideals don’t always align, but you enjoy each other’s company, and you’d hate to see them go. ASTER: Can’t imagine anyone feeling that way about me. THERION: Well, I do. ASTER: Hm. THERION: I’m sorry… about what happened during the trial. I… it’s not the first time I’ve gotten carried away. I could make excuses and say I’ve got a knack for following bad orders; It wouldn’t be the first time “playing along” with someone’s ideas got me in trouble. At the end of the day, I was the one who agreed. And I didn’t stop them. Though, this time… I should have drawn my line in the sand. ASTER: And the Witcher? You apologize to her? She’s the one you really hurt, after all. THERION: Eira seems to take things less personally. Though, that’s probably another can of worms entirely. I’ll still talk to her. Drive the point home. ASTER: Good. Probably best. THERION: I can still walk you back to your room, if you’d like. Might not have the same, uh, flare as the Nymph and probably won’t end as excitingly but… ASTER: Ah, might as well. You never know in this city, a poor bard alone and defenseless? My gods, there’s monsters out there!

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (10/31/2024) Episode: In Loving Memory

Luigi had been happy to see his step-mom at New Years but was devastated when he found out he had missed his last chance to hug her goodbye. 

"Thanks for letting me know" he said, his voice breaking "you're right, she was really something special." Ending the call with his step-brother he turned to Noemi, who was sitting next to him at the computer, looking concerned. "That was Scott" he told her "Mom passed away this morning…" 

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry" Noemi replied, rising to wrap him in a hug "She was such an amazing sim. I can't begin to imagine how hard this must be for you. Let me know if there’s anything special we can do today in her memory."

Luigi was still deep into processing his own feelings that afternoon when Noemi came to gently remind him that Skye would be home soon. "He was so close to his grandmother, and he feels things so deeply. I'm really worried about how he’ll handle the news." 

"Ugh, I'm such a plumhole!" Luigi swore “I was so wrapped up in myself I hadn’t even considered that, and I have no idea how to help him with this… no wait! Maybe a special drink to soften the blow?“

 Noemi didn’t dispute his plan, such as it was. "It couldn’t hurt to show him we care in small ways. Bringing him to Orange’s place for the memorial tonight should help him come to terms as well“. She frowned. “As long as we aren’t interrupted by fans or those paparazzi vultures.”

Skye's reaction was pretty much exactly what his parents had expected. As soon as they told him he started to sob, quickly pushing back his chair and running from the room. The sound of his bedroom door closing followed shortly thereafter. "Should we go after him?" Luigi asked his wife, unsure. 

"Let's give him some time" she said "This is really his first time dealing with the death of a loved one. He was so little when your dad passed. Why don't we get dressed for dinner first and then check on him? He’ll be able to catch his breath, and we’ll still have time to answer his questions before we go."

It turned out Skye was less blindsided by the news than his father. "Grandma told me she'd be going to the ever after soon" he explained when they came to see him a few minutes later. "She said she was looking forward to being with Grandpa again… but I’m still really going to miss her.” 

“Me too, buddy." Luigi agreed "She moved in with my dads and me when I was just a toddler and was as much a parent to me as they were.”

Noemi put an arm around her son. We're going to her dad's house to see your Uncle Scott and Aunt Kelsie for dinner tonight; and we can all share the ways she made us feel loved. You don’t have to share if you don't want too though, it's up to you. Are you ready to get dressed so we can go?"

Skye nodded solemnly and went to get ready. Settling outside his door to wait Luigi turned to Noemi, a question in his eyes. 

"I never even considered, dad and mom and papa… how's that going to work!? Dad and mom weren't together romantically until after papa passed." He paused then, his eyes widening with fear and concern. "Noemi… what about us, and Kiana…??

Noemi was quick to put him at ease about their own relationship "Honey, you know as well as anyone that my marriage to Kiana had been one of convenience for ages before her death. I’ll be happy to see her, but I was never more than a poor stand-in for her previous partner, who she’s reunited with now.”

I’m only interested in a relationship with YOU." She leaned in to demonstrate the depth of her romantic interest in him, and him alone. 

"Your parents" she continued after breaking away from her husband's relieved kiss "are a different story. They’ll need to come to some sort of arrangement, I imagine" she chuckled "but I suspect they’ll figure it out. Like you told Skye, the three of them lived together for years."

That evening Valentina's family gathered at her father Orange's ancestral home in the Del Sol Valley Hills to celebrate her life. 

"Thanks for hosting this privately." Luigi said as his famous step-grandfather greeted them at the door and led them to the front patio where everything was setup for their meal. “I mostly enjoy interacting with my fans, but I don’t think I could bear paparazzi and the public bothering me right now. I don't know how you’ve managed all these centuries without building a moat around this place!“

Orange stared at him, bewildered "Luigi… hasn't anyone told you about the celebrity disguise!?" Now it was Luigi's turn to stare. Shaking his head in disbelief Orange continued “you must REALLY love the attention to have gotten this far without knowing about THAT. I’ll fill you in during dinner.”

The family spent a pleasant evening reminiscing about the dearly departed sim that had touched all their lives so deeply. Before they left for the night Orange was even kind enough to let young Skye post a picture of him and Luigi together for his ever-growing simstagram account.

They all felt better following the meal, and after helping with his homework Noemi introduced Skye to one more way to center his emotions.

“These are yoga mats” she began. “Yoga is an exercise that helps me relax, and I’ve read it can also help with your asthma. It's been a long stressful day, and I think we could all enjoy a little time here under the stars together. You up to following along with your father and I?”

Skye nodded, and their little family began a tradition that night that would serve them well as they dealt with life’s many ups and downs.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[aidansplaguewind]

Riding Out the Storm

So, I previously posted this on AO3 but I went through it and fixed it up quite a bit. Made it more descriptive and what not. Trust me when I say I improved it BIG TIME. I haven't updated it on AO3 yet though. Figured I'd post it in case anyone wanted to check it out. (Sansa is 18 in this one in case anyone has an underage issue.)

I dunno man, I think I made it pretty hot and I usually don't feel that way about my own smut. You tell me.

RATED - E (as in Explicit, not for Everyone)

WORD COUNT - 6385

Sansa has gone to stay with her Aunt Lysa and Uncle Petyr over summer vacation at their beach house. But, instead of fun in the sun, a hurricane hits. Lysa decided to ride out the storm by popping pills and sleeping through it, leaving Petyr and Sansa alone to ride it out their own way. (I literally wrote this during a hurricane.)

"This is so boring, I can't stand it. I’m literally about to lose my mind.”

Petyr looked at his eighteen-year-old niece over the top of his book. She was sitting in the arm chair across from his, squirming in her seat, and checking her phone every five minutes. “If you keep using that phone without charging it you’re gonna get a hell of a lot more bored once the power goes out. Read a book, I have plenty.”

“Who reads anymore?”

“Beg my pardon, you're right, I imagine your generation wouldn't bother to even learn to read if not for texting.” She snarled her nose at him but he didn't mind. Didn't care at all if he offended her delicate sensibilities. “I don't care what you do, just stop complaining.”

Outside the wind was picking up, the rain coming down harder, and they could see it all through the clear plastic shutters that were covering all of the windows. There was a pretty massive hurricane sitting in the Atlantic, on the way straight toward them, the current conditions being brought in from the outer bands. Petyr imagined his wife's niece, Sansa, had never dreamed coming to stay with her aunt for a few weeks would result in their current situation. No, she likely had fantasies of fun in the sun, beach days, and relaxing in the hammock. Her boyfriend had even planned to come visit her for a few days but that wasn't going to happen, at least not until after the storm had passed. All flights in and out had been canceled.

He said nothing as she got up and plugged her phone into the charger, his eyes following her across the room. She was wearing white cotton shorts that barely covered her bottom and a blue spaghetti strap top and he wondered why she wore clothing like that in front of him if she didn't want him looking. And she didn't want him looking, or at least that's what she had told him. What was it that she had said? Pervert. Yeah, that's what she had called him when she noticed him glance at her ass. He hadn't meant for his eyes to linger but her skirt had been so short and she had bent over right in front of him, her ass almost in full view. He was only a man, how could he not look?

“When are Robin and Lysa getting up?” she asked, plopping back down onto the chair.

“No time soon, I imagine. She wants to sleep through it and I don't intend to stop her.” Lysa had taken enough Xanax to sleep through their house blowing away, and Robin, the spoiled mommy’s boy that he was, would stay in bed with her.

“What do you wanna do?”

“I want to keep reading my book.”

“Ugh...come on. Amuse me.”

What a little cunt. As if it were his responsibility to keep her occupied. “What would you have me do, Miss Stark?”

She shrugged, tucking a stray strand of perfect, red hair behind her ear. “I dunno. You wanna play a game or something?”

Petyr sighed, closed his book and placed it on the coffee table in front of them, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be getting any reading done if Sansa Stark had anything to say about it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Fine. What sort of game did you have in mind?”

“Um...naked twister?” she laughed, obviously finding herself hilarious. She'd caught him looking at her ass once and now she figured he wanted her and meant to taunt him for it.

It was true, he did want her, but he would not be bested by an eighteen-year-old girl. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't have the game,” he answered, unfazed.

She shook her head, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I was kidding.”

“I'm well aware.”

“Ooook." Her eyes widened as though he were being ridiculous. "So what do you wanna play?”

“You tell me, it was your idea, Sweetling.”

“How about Truth or Dare?”

Truth or Dare. There was a game he hadn't played in years. In truth the only games he played any more were those of the mind. Fuck it. Why not? What could she possibly ask him that would be too revealing? Even so, he was a very good liar. “Fine.”

“Okay.” She got up from the chair and moved to sit on the sofa. “Come sit by me.”

He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I wanna be able to see your eyes, so I can tell if you're lying or not.”

Petyr fought against laughter that threatened to erupt. Little fool, I'm a master fucking manipulator. But she didn't need to know that, so he moved from his own chair and sat down beside her on the sofa. She pulled her legs up so that her knees were bent and she was facing him. “Is that better?” he asked.

“Sure. Now who should go first?”

He gave a small shrug. “I'll be the guinea pig I suppose, why not?”

“Okay, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Wimp.”

“Why?”

“Truth is the safe way to go.”

“Is it?” He stared into her blue eyes, challenging her to disagree. For he knew that truths could be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands.

She looked away quickly. “Fine...lemme think.” She fiddled with her necklace for a moment, running the little golden heart back and forth across the chain, before an idea dawned on her and her attention snapped back to his face. “I heard you got into a bad fight with my uncle over my mother when you guys were around my age and he totally kicked your ass. Is it true?”

“It's true,” Petyr admitted but ‘kicked his ass’ wasn't the phrase he'd use to describe it. “He nearly killed me.” She hadn't asked that but he offered the knowledge anyway. Let her hear how brutal her own family can be, let her empathize with me. Whatever it took to get her where he wanted her.

“Yeah...I heard you have a huge scar across your chest. Is that true?”

Petyr grinned and shook his head. “It's your turn now, not mine. Truth or Dare?”

"You suck," she pouted and Petyr couldn't stop his gaze from traveling from her eyes down to her luscious bottom lip. Reflexively he ran his tongue across his own bottom lip and then bit down on it. He was well aware that women found him adorable when he bit his bottom lip. When his eyes returned to hers they were wide and a rosy pink had colored her cheeks and he flashed her a devilish grin. He would use everything in his arsenal, every trick in the book.

She swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Um...truth, I guess.”

“Is it true that you're only dating Joffrey Baratheon because his family is famous and he's the most desired boy in the world?” Petyr asked.

Her chin dropped and her mouth hung open in feigned shock. “No. No, never. Joffrey’s... he's…”

“He's what?” Everyone knew the kid was a prick and he watched her stumble to find something nice to say about him. She couldn't. Sansa was the girl who wanted to date the cutest and most popular boy in school, even if that boy was an asshole. She would imagine he'd fall hopelessly in love with her and change his ways just for her. She was young, naive, and selfish. Unrealistically idealistic. He knew exactly who she was because he had once been the same person, mistaking infatuation for love. “You're a bad liar, Sansa.”

She was about to object when all of the lights went out and they were left in complete darkness. They had been so busy with their little game that neither of them had noticed that the winds outside were howling, the rain beating against the windows. If Petyr had bothered to keep a television on he would have known where the storm was but had decided early on that he wasn't going to get wrapped up into the hysteria. It was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Do you think the lights will come back on?” Sansa asked. As if in answer to her question, a gust of wind slammed against the front door and the pressure of it could be felt physically.

“I don't think so. Stay here, I'll go get some candles.”

Petyr left her alone on the sofa, using the light from his cellphone to guide him to the kitchen. He grabbed a few candles from the cabinet above the stove, a flashlight, and a bottle of wine. Fuck it. There was nothing else to do. He found the corkscrew in a drawer and returned to the living room to sit the candles on the coffee table. In this case it was a lucky thing he smoked because it meant he always had a lighter in his pocket. Once they were lit a soft glow enveloped him and Sansa, and he noticed an uneasiness in her eyes as he sat back down beside her.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah. The wind...it's so loud. The whistling is kinda creepy.”

How cute, she was frightened of the storm. “I don't mind it but I grew up in a rainy, windy area. I actually find it rather comforting.”

“Really?”

“Mmm.” He popped the cork on the bottle of wine and drank straight from the bottle, passing it to Sansa after.

She reached for it but hesitated. “But...I’m not old enough.”

“Close enough. Don't pretend you’ve never drank before, I'm not stupid and I may look old but I used to be a teenager too. Besides, it might help you relax.” She smiled, a sweet, innocent smile and Petyr felt the corner of his mouth twitch to match. Her fingers brushed his as she took the bottle and that small touch made his skin tingle and burn.

“So...do you wanna finish playing the game?” she asked after a hearty swig.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, it was your turn. Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” He was suddenly feeling a bit adventurous. What could she possibly dare him to do in their current circumstances anyway?

“I dare you to take off your shirt...and undershirt! If you're wearing one.”

Petyr wasn't sure what to say for a moment. It definitely wasn't the dare he saw coming. “Why?”

“Does it matter why? I dared you to.”

He grabbed the wine bottle from her and took a long draught before sitting it on the table. He wasn't particularly shy, no it wasn't that, he just didn't really want to show her the long scar that ran the length of his torso, from his collar bone to his navel, and he was almost certain that's why she wanted him bare.

“Just remember,” he said as he began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. “Paybacks are a bitch.” She raised her eyebrows at him challengingly. Little girl, don't get in over your head. Surely she didn't understand the dangers and implications of undressing a fully grown man. If she did she may have rethought her dare. Too late now, little one. He finished with the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off, then pulled the white t-shirt he wore under it over his head and watched as her eyes widened in shock.

“Oh my God...I had- I didn't know-”

“It's fine!" He cut her off. Her words sounded a lot like pity and he hadn't the stomach for pity. "It's been healed for many, many years.”

She reached towards him and instinctively he grabbed her wrist before her fingers made contact with the raised pink flesh, causing her to flinch. He hadn't meant to grab her too roughly or hurt her, it was just a reflex. Nevertheless, he held onto her. In truth he very much liked the idea of her tiny fingers roaming his bare chest. “I believe it's your turn.”

Her blue eyes locked onto his in surprise. Has she already forgotten we were playing a game?

“Um...yeah. I pick truth.”

Petyr released his grip on her wrist and she pulled her arm back against her chest. For a moment he just looked at her, noting that all her usual cockiness had seemed to fade after realizing that he could hurt her if he wished to. Sansa was a tall girl, exactly the same height as Petyr, and she sauntered around in front him as though she was untouchable and unattainable, but now she surely realized that though he was not a big man in stature, he was still a man, and he was lean and strong and he could pin her down if he so desired. But Petyr wasn't interested in taking her by force for it would be much more satisfying to make her desire him. To want him. Before the night was over, she would be begging for his cock.

What truth could he ask her to break her down? To put her in her place? A sinful grin spread across his face. Sex. She clearly loved the attention her beautiful, young body got her but if he knew anything about teenagers, it was that they hated being reminded of their sexual inexperience and inferiority. They had the bodies of adults but were still children and tended to get quite defensive when one reminded them of that. “Alright, I have a question for you. Are you still a virgin?”

In the dim light of the candles he could just barely make out the blush spreading across her cheeks. “No! No way, I have a boyfriend.”

Petyr couldn't contain a soft chuckle. “You're lying.”

“No. I'm not. I've done it tons of times.”

“Oh? What's your favorite position?”

She shook her head. “It's not my turn anymore.”

“I wasn't asking a Truth, I was just asking. Do you like it rough or soft and slow?"

Her cheeks flushed crimson, matching her hair. “It's your turn,” she insisted, still avoiding the question.

It didn't matter. He could always tell when people were lying, he had learned to note the signs. Or tells. Lack of eye contact, fidgeting, a twitch of their lips. She was exhibiting all of these. “Fine. Truth.”

Sansa took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. “Do you...did you...um…”

“Come on, out with it.”

“Do you like looking at me?” she asked, avoiding his gaze. “I've seen you look at me.”

And just like that, a jolt of arousal burned through his stomach and down through his groin. “I recall. And you called me a pervert.”

“I didn't mean it,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Not really. It's just what everyone else says when an old- I mean...older guy looks at a teenage girl.”

“You meant old.”

“No! I didn't... I mean that's what other people say but I don't think you're old.” This was certainly a turn of events. For once, not at all what he was expecting. “If I told my friends they would think it was creepy and gross because you're so much older and you're my uncle but...I kind of like it when you look at me.”

Another jolt of arousal, this time shooting straight to his cock. Such a sweet, delicious little confession. “I'm not your uncle through blood,” he quickly reminded her. She finally looked into his eyes and hers looked so innocent and vulnerable that he physically ached.

“So...you still haven't answered. Do you like to? Ya know...look at me?”

If he said no he would be lying and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her, not about this, not with the fear of rejection written all over her face. Not when the truth could possibly allow him a taste of her supple, young fruit. He softened his tone and spoke barely above a whisper, “Yes, sweetheart, I do. Very much.”

A sweet smile played on her lips, followed by another blush. “It's my turn now.” She was embarrassed and trying to move away from the topic now but Petyr's curiosity was piqued and he was getting her exactly where he wanted her. If she liked him looking at her, what else might she like?

“Truth or Dare?” he asked, his heart racing in anticipation.

“Truth.”

“Do you ever look at me?”

“I'm looking at you right now.”

“You know what I mean, Sweetling.” He was taking a gamble, he knew, just because she enjoyed the attention of him lusting after her did not mean the feeling was mutual but there was only one way to find out. “Do you find me attractive, Sansa?” He was a good looking man, he knew, slender and lean with dark hair greying at his temples, but teenagers were usually attracted to other teenagers.

“Yeah...I guess I do," she admitted, her eyes cast downward, no doubt afraid to look into his.

Her confession sent another jolt through Petyr and his cock was beginning to throb. Every sane part of him screamed to end their little game immediately before he completely sexually frustrated himself but the part of him that didn't care said keep going. “Truth,” he answered before she even had time to ask the question.

She lifted her head, finding the courage to make eye contact. “Have you ever thought about...like...doing things to me?”

Was he imagining it or had she scooted closer to him? There was hardly room to breathe between them, with her knees still bent, her shins just barely grazed his thigh. “Yes.”

“What kinds of things?”

His heart was hammering against his ribs now, his every nerve tingling in anticipation. He wanted to jump on her like a fucking wild animal in heat and just take her but that wouldn't do. He had to tread carefully. Slowly he inhaled a breadth of air, calming himself, and slowly exhaled. “Things you’re too young to hear about.”

“I'm not too young. I think about things too.”

“Oh?" So much for calm. "What kinds of things?” Had she too imagined her legs over his shoulders as he pumped into her? Had she slid her digits through her silken, wet slit and imagined it was his tongue instead?

“You were supposed to answer first, it's your turn.”

Petyr turned his body more, to face hers, and whilst doing so took the opportunity to place his hand on her bare leg. She wiggled a bit but didn't shake him off. Her skin was so very soft and supple and he couldn't stop himself from gently rubbing his fingers over her. “Do you want to know if I've thought about kissing you?” he asked.

Her eyes had snapped to where his hand now rested on her bare skin, fixated. It looked as though she struggled to lift them to meet his own. “Yes... and anything else.”

“You wanna know if I've imagined fucking you?” She nodded, biting that kissable bottom lip of hers. “Yes...and yes.” His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, moving around her leg and up to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was even softer there. His cock, now hard and throbbing, was straining against his pants. “What have you imagined, sweetheart?”

“I- I um…” Her face was flushed and her voice sounded strained as he continued running his fingers along the inside of her thigh.

“Don't be shy.”

“I...imagined kissing you.”

“What else?” His fingers now toyed with the edge of her shorts and he was hyper-aware of every change in her demeanor. Her breathing, while barely audible, was more shallow and quick and her perky tits were rising and falling in rapid succession. The conversation, the sound of his voice mixed with his touch, was turning her on and he was inwardly delighted at this victory.

“I've imagined you touching me.”

“Where, Sweetling?” he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Um…” Her eyelids fluttered and her voice came out as a soft sigh. The evidence of her arousal made his cock ache with longing.

“Truth or Dare, Sansa?”

“Dare,” she whispered and Petyr almost burst with excitement.

“I dare you to let me kiss you.”

Her eyes met his, looking both uncertain and curious. “What about Aunt Lysa?”

“She's taken enough Xanax to knock out a bull. She's not going to wake up.”

“No, I mean...don't you love her?”

He brought his hands to her face then, gently cupping and caressing the line of her jaw. “Not the way I love you.” In truth he didn't love Lysa at all. Did he love Sansa? Perhaps, but more than anything he wanted to taste her and bury himself inside her and he would say whatever he needed to achieve that. “May I kiss you?”

She barely had time to utter consent before Petyr leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own and her immediate sigh was music to his ears. He forced himself to move slowly, even though his body was alight with need, longing to take her fast and hard. Longing for relief. Her lips moved against his innocently,  clumsy and inexperienced as they were, but he didn't care. He would teach her, he would mold her to fit him. Carefully, he ran his tongue across the seam of her lips, willing her to open for him. When her lips parted he took his chance and slipped his tongue between them, softly stroking her own.

She was all softness and warmth and tasted of the wine they had just shared. She was delicious and he couldn't contain the moan that escaped him. His fingers traced down the line of her neck and she whimpered into his mouth and her own hands found their way to his bare chest. Petyr was losing all sense of reason as he devoured her, his heart pounded wildly against his chest, and his cock had become an insistent, aching reminder of how badly he wanted her. When her thumb brushed across his nipple he hissed in a breath and broke their kiss, pulling just far away enough to search the deep blue pools of her eyes.

“Uncle Petyr…”

“Yes?”

“I dare you to touch me.”

Oh fuck. “I didn't choose dare, Sweetling.” He was teasing her, of course, he would gladly touch her.

Her hands went to his hips, urging him closer. “Uncle Petyr, please.”

Please was all it took for him to slip his hands under the hem of her shirt. He reclaimed her lips as his deft fingers found the clasp of her bra and had it loose in seconds. She moaned into his mouth when his hands cupped her breasts, a soft cry of ecstasy, and it took every ounce of Petyr's self control to go slowly. All of her little moans and sighs were going straight to his cock. When he found her nipples and began gently tweaking them between his fingers, she arched into him reflexively, her thighs spreading. He took the opportunity to get between them and push her back onto the sofa, pressing himself against her. He could feel the warmth radiating from her core, even through their layers of clothing, and was unable to stop himself from grinding his erection against her, relishing in the friction.

Sansa broke their kiss and looked at him and Petyr felt stunned, as if being awakened from a trance. Her eyes were glazed and the blue even darker than before, although behind them was a tinge of worry. “What's wrong, Sweetling?”

“I lied earlier.” Her voice was a whisper. “About having done it before. I've never….never really done anything.”

He had known. Of course he had known but a part of him was hoping she would try to maintain the lie until the very end, until he was already buried deep inside her and felt how tight she was. What sort of monster would he be now, with it out in the open, to take this little girl's virginity on the sofa as his wife slept upstairs? “I know and we don't have to do anything, we can stop right now,” but even as he said it, he rocked his hips into her and began tracing her jaw with soft kisses, down until he reached that sweet spot just below. A sharp intake of breath from her and a thrust back against him was enough to spur him on.

A monster indeed.

One of his hands left her breasts and snaked down between them where he slowly eased his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and panties. “Mmhmm,” he moaned into her neck as he found her slit already slick with need. “So wet.” When he slipped a finger through her folds she whimpered and her hands went to his chest, her fingers gripped his chest hair tightly and the pull stung but he didn't mind.

He moved his finger up and down her folds slowly, torturously, making sure to circle her little nub rhythmically. Even without direct pressure she was already moaning and wiggling beneath him, her breaths quick and shallow. Fuck, she's so wet. He wanted nothing more than to yank her bottoms off and sink into her balls deep, to take her fast and rough. But waiting was a sweet kind of torture.

“Do you want me to stop, Sansa?” He would, if she insisted, but he was going to persuade her. He was very good at persuasion.

“No. No please, don't.” Her reply was strained, he couldn't believe how responsive she was to the slightest touch from him.

“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?” he asked, as he began to fully rub her clit, applying real pressure.

She bucked her hips against his hand as a breathy “No” escaped her lips.

He continued to play with her breasts with one hand as his other worked her below and when he finally slipped his finger into her entrance he covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cry. She was so tight, more than one finger was going to hurt her a little but he was going to try to make it as painless as possible. Perhaps he wasn't a complete monster.

He fucked her with the one finger, making sure the bottom of his palm continuously rubbed on her nub, and she came undone beneath him. Writhing and bucking, one of her hands clawed at his bare side the other tangled in his hair. Petyr was enjoying every minute of it, even though he was sure his cock was about to burst out of his pants. He could almost cum from just watching her lose control.

“Mm...p-p..” she was trying to say something against his mouth. He eased up a bit to allow it. “Please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please...fas-faster.”

He grinned against her lips as he shifted his hand to slide another finger inside. He went slowly at first, stretching her open, getting her used to the feel of something bigger, and she winced but didn't tell him to stop. After a few moments she began moaning again, soft whimpers of pleasure, so he picked up the pace.

“Do you like that?” he whispered into her ear.

“Mmhmm.”

“Do you like the way your Uncle Petyr fucks you?” She bucked wildly against him and he felt her walls beginning to contract. She was close. “Cum for me, Sweetling. Cum for Uncle Petyr.” As if his words alone willed it, and maybe they did, she moaned loudly. Her back arched and her inner walls gripped his fingers, pulling them even deeper as she came around them. Petyr gently nipped at her neck and massaged her breasts as she peaked and then began to come down from her high, praying she wouldn't change her mind now that her initial need was sated.

He decided he wouldn't give her time to. He pushed her shirt and bra up to reveal her naked breasts, beautiful pale mounds ripe for a feast and he dipped his head, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn. Her skin tasted like heaven, sweet and musty and entirely her own; he could have stayed between them forever but he had a more pressing matter at hand. She was already responding again, soft little mews and pants that were driving him mad with lust. He pulled up from her and hooked his fingers under the waistband of her bottoms, stilling for a moment to see if she would object. She didn't. She looked up at him with those innocent blue eyes, waiting, and closed her knees to make it easier for him to get them down.

Without hesitation he pulled them down, tossing them carelessly across the room. Just as quickly he kicked off his shoes and pulled his own pants and boxers off, his cock springing forth, finally free of its constraints. He got back onto the sofa on his knees, placing a hand on each of her own and spreading them back open.

“Jesus…” Her little cunt was so perfect and glistening in the light of the candles from her juices. Just a taste. Petyr watched her face, her cheeks were burning with embarrassment and her eyes darted away from his own. Clearly no one had ever looked at her this way before but she had nothing to be ashamed of. She was perfect. He quickly dipped his head and ran his tongue up the length of her slit, resulting in a surprise gasp from her. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He wanted to devour her for hours, make her exhausted with pleasure until her legs shook and she had to fight for air but he also desperately wanted to be inside her. He settled for a few laps with his tongue and a suckle at her clit before getting up and leaning over her, his cock nestling itself between her folds. Her wet heat caused him to buck against her.

“Ooh,” she whimpered.

“Are you okay?” he asked, bringing his face to her own.

She nodded. “It looks big.”

It? His cock. He hadn't even noticed her looking at it but surely she had, it was likely the only one she had ever seen in person. “Thank you for stroking my ego, Sweetling.”

“Can I...can I get a better look at it? Can I touch it?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He lifted his body off her so she could look down between them where his member lay snug against her sex. He was rigidly hard and his head an angry red. Would she find it ugly? He watched as her tiny hand reached down and she ran her fingers along his length. “Mmm,” he moaned at the contact.

“Does it feel good?”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I might now,” she replied with a sweet smile. “It's so soft but...so hard.”

"Do you like my cock, baby?" he asked, biting that bottom lip of his again in that adorable way that he did.

She blushed an even deeper shade of crimson and smiled. "Yes."

He hummed proudly. "Hmmm, good girl." Very slowly he began rocking his hips, allowing himself to slide through her slit, and she watched with apt fascination until her head fell back and she whimpered from the friction. Petyr himself felt every nerve alighting in his body and he wasn't even inside her yet. “Are you ready?” he asked.

She could only nod, her breathing heavy and loud, lost to the sensation of his manhood stroking her most sensitive spot.

Petyr inwardly rejoiced as he pressed his chest down against hers and kissed her heartily and hungrily. She met his kiss with equal fervor as he took his cock in hand and aligned himself with her entrance. He gave a slight push and he felt her entire body tense beneath him. “Try to relax, Sweetling. It will hurt less if you do.” He truly had no desire to hurt her and didn't understand how any man could enjoy such a thing. It was far more pleasurable to give pleasure.

She nodded but as he began pushing further in, stretching her all the way out, tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. She was so tight, her body instinctively pushed back against the foreign intrusion, and Petyr had to give a few deep, hard thrusts to fully stretch her open for him, until he was all the way inside.

His hips stilled for a moment. "Oooh, holy fuck!" He groaned at the sensation of finally being fully sheathed, his cock twitched within her and he knew if he wasn't careful he would cum far more quickly than he wanted to. Fuck she's so fucking tight, fuck! He wouldn't normally have to worry about that sort of thing but she was so fucking tight and the anticipation had been building inside him for far longer than that night.

She was shaking, crying, and he cupped her face gently kissing away the tears. “Relax, the hard part is over now.”

He captured her lips with his own as he began to slowly pull out and push back in, a gentle, rhythmic rocking of his hips. As he did so, he placed one hand on her breast and the other he placed over where their bodies joined and began working at that tender, little nub. His body wanted so much more, his breathing laboured, fighting the natural urge to start pounding into her.

“Fuck...you feel so good, sweetheart.” She whimpered at his words. “So wet...so tight around my cock.”

“Oooh.” Her cheeks were flushed with arousal, her eyes heavy. His words were fueling her desire. The sound of his voice relaxing her muscles and opening her up beneath him.

"That's it, sweetheart, open up." He could feel her walls relaxing around him as he pushed in and out of her, could feel her getting wetter as he worked her clit. “Do you like the way my cock feels, Sweetling?”

“Oh my God," she panted. So responsive to the sound of his voice. "F-fuck...yes.”

He moved his hand from her breast and used it to prop himself up, allowing a new angle, allowing him to go deeper. “Does my voice turn you on?”

“Yes...don't stop.” Her breaths were becoming quicker, her head rolled back against the arm of the sofa, her own hands replaced his and kneaded at her breasts.

Petyr began to pick up the pace with each thrust. “Does my little girl like the way I fuck her?” She grinded against him at his words. “Ooh fuck...that's it. Such a good girl.”

Sweat broke out on his brow as he pumped into her. The sounds of their joining was intoxicating, the gush of her juices every time he thrust back in, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass. He wanted to keep talking to her but he was losing it. “Mmm...fuuuuck...so good.”

Finally she said it. “Faster.”

He wasted no time, his hips responding to her demand immediately and she began bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts. He wanted her to cum again so desperately but he wasn't going to last much longer at the new frantic pace. His body collapsed on top of her and he hooked his arms underneath hers as he continuously moved his hips, deep and hard. “Your pussy feels so good,” he purred, his lips now at her ear. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

“Oh...oooh, Petyr don't stop.” Her hands went to his head, pulling and yanking his hair but he didn't mind.

“Mmm...oh fuuuck baby I’m gonna cum.”

And he did, he couldn't stop it. Every nerve in his body lit up, his veins sung with pleasure, as he went over the edge, lighting up every limb down to his toes. His vision went white. He tried to pull out, he really did, but as soon as he came, she came too, and her walls gripped him, pulling him back in and milking him for every drop.

“Oooh...oh fuuuuck,” he cried as his cock twitched and jerked inside her.

For a few moments they laid there, their breaths evening out, minds clearing. When Petyr could think clearly again the dread of what had just happened ebbed its way into his mind. “Sansa...I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice muffled against her skin where his head was nestled in the crook of her neck.

“Sorry for what?”

“I meant to pull out.”

“No, Petyr...it's okay. My mom put me on the pill cuz I have really bad periods. It helps.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I promise. There's nothing to worry about.”

Relief spread through his body and he smiled into her neck. Finally he pusehd himself up to where he could look at her and she blushed from the eye contact, biting her bottom lip. “You're beautiful.”

“No I'm not.”

“Stop. You know you are.” She shook her head, looking a bit sad and Petyr was taken aback. For someone who always acted so confident she surely didn't seem so now. “By the time I'm done with you you're going to believe me.”

“You're not done with me?”

“Only if you want me to be.” She smiled and shook her head again, all innocence and vulnerability.

“Well,” he said, moving a strand of hair away from her face and tucking it gingerly behind her ear. “This isn't at all how I expected this evening to go.”

“Me neither.”

For the first time in a while Petyr noticed the wind howling outside. “I completely forgot there was a hurricane going on outside.”

“What hurricane?”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. Neither of them had moved yet and she didn't seem to mind.

“I think this is definitely the way to ride out a storm,” she giggled against his lips.

“Ride? I can show you how to ride out the storm.”

She laughed and ruffled his hair with her fingers and he was lost.