#out of bucket; ooc tag

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

-

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

[runnning-outof-time]

Change His Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy falls for a woman out of his reach and does whatever it takes to get closer to her.

Warnings: Tommy’s certainly not canon here, language, smoking, religious themes (Tommy goes to church)

Word Count: 4025

A/N: I dusted this WIP off because I was itching to keep writing after I finished my celebration blurbs. The idea has Tommy ooc, but it was one that I just had to write down while reading a book - I’ll share a bit more about it down below for those who are interested (it’s based on a true story). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

Tommy's world stopped the second he saw her. She was in Polly's main room, gathering her cleaning supplies as he stepped into the home. He watched from the doorway as she tried, but failed, to take them all into her arms, the bucket and broom falling to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Gray," she quickly apologized to the woman standing next to the fireplace for the commotion, crouching down to - try and - gather it once more. Polly didn't say anything, only watching on as the younger woman struggled.

"Let me help you, miss," Tommy spoke up, balancing the cigarette he was smoking between his lips before he stepped over to her, leaning down to grab the stick of the broom before she could.

"Oh, thank you, mister," she smiled over at him, her (y/e/c) eyes instantly mesmerizing Tommy. He almost forgot what he was doing.

"Where do these need to go?" he asked after clearing his throat and pulling himself from his thoughts.

"Just outside. My father's picking me up," she responded, smiling over at him gratefully. He felt like she had knocked the wind out of him.

"Alright then," he nodded, standing in time with her and taking a bucket from her full hands so that she'd have less to carry. He then let her lead him out to where an older looking farm-typed truck was waiting. The man sitting in the driver's seat just glared at Tommy, who ignored his presence altogether. "Should be it," he remarked as he sat the broom and bucket into the back of the truck.

"Thank you, really," the woman smiled at him.

"You're welcome," Tommy nodded politely before she got in the truck and he walked back up the path to his aunt's house. Polly was standing in the entryway with her arms crossed when Tommy re-entered the house. "What, Pol?" he questioned, brushing past her into the main room.

"She's a good woman, Thomas," she heeded a warning. A warning that Tommy disregarded completely.

Tommy showed up at Polly's every day for a week until he figured out what times the unnamed, beautiful woman was present at the house. And each time she was, he would help her with the things that she needed to carry out to her father's truck.

He didn't quite get to his destination today because the very person he was looking forward to seeing was walking along the sidewalk about three blocks from his aunt's house. He slowed down his car with his brow furrowed, and bent his head down to look at her. "All ok?" he asked after he watched her take a few more struggled steps. "Your father coming to pick you up?"

"Not today," she shook her head, the tone of her voice showing how much she was struggling to keep everything in her arms. "He's been held up at the farm."

Tommy was out of his car the second he heard her answer. He walked around the side of it with a quickened pace before he took the bigger cleaning supplies from her arms. "I can take you home," he offered, already opening the back door of his car before she gave him an answer to set the supplies he'd taken inside.

"Oh I can't bother you like that," she tried to decline his offer politely, but Tommy didn't want to hear it.

"I insist," he stressed, his eyebrows raised slightly to show his seriousness. He held his eyes on her and saw her weary expression form into a smile. She nodded her head in agreement before he opened the passenger's side door for her to get into the car. Once she was in, he shut the door and walked back around to the driver's side.

"Do you have a name, sir?" she asked him almost immediately after he'd sat in the front seat, "because I feel like I should know the name of the man that has so kindly offered me a ride."

"It's Thomas Shelby," he said, clearing his throat before adding: "you can call me Tommy though."

The woman smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, Tommy. Thank you for driving me home," she spoke politely. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she added, her cheeks heating up slightly when she realized that she hadn't formally introduced herself to him.

"It's nice to officially meet you as well, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but smile as he tried her name out for himself, "and there's no need to thank me...the pleasure's all mine here," he concluded his sentence by turning his car back on and pulling away from the sidewalk so that he could take her home.

There was an older man leaning up against the side of a rusted farm truck as Tommy pulled into the driveway that (Y/N) said was hers. He looked rather intimidating standing there, and if Tommy wasn't in the line of work that he was, he definitely would have been put off by him.

"Hi, daddy," (Y/N) smiled as she got out of the car so that she could grab her supplies from the back. She was too slow, however, because Tommy already had it in his hands.

"Where do you want this?" he asked her.

"Just by the shed over there," she answered as she motioned to said shed, "I can place them where they need to go later." Tommy nodded and then walked the short distance so that he could rest the supplies against the wall of the shed. "Thank you, Tommy," she sent him a bright smile once he'd finished.

"You're welcome," he nodded, deciding that being paid in her smiles would be better than any lump sum of money he could ever receive.

"You Thomas Shelby?" (Y/N)'s father then came into the situation, his voice making Tommy's expression go serious as he turned to face the older man.

"I am," he nodded, extending his hand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" her father got right to the point, glancing at the hand but not shaking it.

Tommy found himself feeling like a young boy again, and it made him wonder just how interested he was in (Y/N) for him to be feeling like this. "I brought her home. She was struggling with carrying the supplies," he explained himself.

The older man looked Tommy up and down before nodding slightly. "Ok," was all he said before he turned and started to walk over to one of the barns on the property.

"Thank you, Tommy," (Y/N) sent him another smile, pulling him out of the confused stupor that was brought on by the previous conversation. "I hope you make it home safely."

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he responded, loving how her name sounded coming from his mouth. He then returned her wave before he walked to his car and got into it, backing down the driveway and away from the beautiful woman who was standing and watching him leave.

"I think you're a bloody idiot for coming up with that idea," Polly spoke her mind after Tommy had finished explaining to her where he'd gone a few days ago.

"That's why I'm doing it properly," Tommy tried to work a different angle.

"Properly or not, the (Y/L/N)'s are a God-fearing family, and I can't remember the last time you stepped into a church with the intent of speaking to the Maker," she remarked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. Tommy sighed in response, shaking his head as he brought the cigarette back up to his mouth. He and Polly then stared at each other for a few moments before the woman sighed and hung her head, "but you'll still give it a try anyway," she stated in defeat, knowing just by his glance alone that her nephew's mind was made up.

Tommy cleared his throat as he stood from the chair in Polly's living room. He grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders so that he was ready to leave the house. Polly tried to call after him, but he wasn't listening to her words as he opened the door and exited the dwelling. After getting in the car and starting its engine, he began driving to (Y/N)'s house with the full intention of winning her father over.

"You cannot court my daughter," (Y/N)'s father spoke firmly from where he sat across from Tommy in the front room.

"She's a very lovely woman, and I will be a gentleman to her," he tried to sway the older man, laying on the Shelby charm in full force, "all I am asking is for a date with her." If only his family could hear him now.

"If you want to see my daughter, you'll see her at church," her father decided, nodding his head once to show his decision was final.

"Mr. (Y/L/N)..."

"Save it, Shelby," the older man cut Tommy off, standing to leave the conversation. Tommy watched him walk, knowing there was nothing more that could be done. He also stood, showing himself out. He looked to the farmhouse after opening the door to his car and saw (Y/N) standing in one of the second floor windows. A sigh escaped his lips. He knew what to do.

Tommy met the (Y/L/N)'s at their church that Sunday. No one bothered to question how he knew where they worshiped, and he was thankful that he didn't need to explain.

They all sat in the same pew, Tommy to the right of (Y/N), of course, while her father sat on her left. He didn't listen much to the sermons, or participate in singing along with the choir.

He did, however, try to get even closer to (Y/N). After a few glances down, he slowly inched his hand closer to her lap. At first he attempted to take hold of her hand. She moved it away the second she felt his fingers brush hers. But she didn't look his way though, still focused on what the preacher was saying. So he let his hand stay there. Instead of holding hers, he flipped his palm down and draped his fingers over the curve of her thigh.

His hand had just started to warm from her body heat when he felt a sharp, but silent, smack land on the back of it. It made him remove his hand and quickly look her way. She was still looking straight ahead. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his brows furrowed. He was sure that he hadn't imagined that; she'd just smacked him.

The feeling of his eyes on her made (Y/N) glance to her right. She knew he wouldn't look away until he addressed her. But her father would instantly know that her attention had been taken off of the message being told. Ever-so-slowly, she leaned closer to Tommy, getting close enough so that he could hear her whisper. "There should be no touching in the Lord's house. It's considered blasphemy."

Tommy couldn't respond because she sat straight again the second she finished speaking. He took one last look at her before looking straight again, his hand resting on his thigh once again.

Tommy continued going to church with (Y/N) and her family every Sunday, and eventually they got into a routine of him walking her back home.

Every Sunday, they'd stop at the beginning of her dirt driveway, and she'd thank him with a kiss on his cheek. They'd then say their goodbyes and she'd begin walking to her house. Tommy would stay and watch, waiting until she was on her porch before he left.

This Sunday was different. (Y/N) was unusually quiet on the way home. The walk that was normally filled with her sweet laughter and entertaining stories was now overruled by silence.

They stopped at the end of her driveway, and (Y/N) turned so that she could face him. Tommy's eyes were immediately on her, and he noticed that she was looking at the ground. "I won't be in church next Sunday," she finally spoke, playing with her fingers in hopes it'd give her something to focus on. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes then, seeing that he was looking out at the fields for a moment. Thinking now'd be the best time to say goodbye, she lifted her head and leaned in to press her lips to his cheek.

Tommy turned to talk to her at that same moment, and he was met with the most rewarding accident he'd ever been given in his life when his lips met hers. The kiss was soft, quick, and innocent. Too quick for his liking.

(Y/N) pulled back with a gasp the second she realized what was happening. She looked at him then, her eyes now opened wide; looking as if she'd just seen a ghost, or a horrible crime be committed. I've fucked this up, Tommy thought to himself, the breath caught in his throat. The worst part about it was that he didn't quite know what to say that could make the situation better.

So he just stared at (Y/N), watching as her eyes searched his for what seemed like eternity. Then, after what felt like forever, (Y/N) leaned in and pressed her lips to his again. She kissed him more soundly this time, and he took hold of her waist to make sure that she wouldn't leave him too soon. When she eventually moved to pull back, he let her, keeping his eyes closed when she stayed close and rested her forehead against his.

"Why?" he asked once their breathing had returned to normal.

"Huh?" she was clearly confused by his sudden question, and she finally pulled back to look at him once more, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why won't you be there, love?" he asked with a soft laugh, squeezing her waist softly as he remembered that he was still holding onto her.

Realization struck her and her confusion melted into a sheepish smile, remembering what they were talking about before the kiss happened. "My family and I are traveling to see my grandparents. We'll go to the service at their church since we'll be staying through the weekend," she explained the reason behind her initial statement.

"Should I find you there?" he asked her then, wondering if he could still make things work. He'd been seeing her every Sunday for a month and a half now, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't look forward to it every week.

"There's no need for that, Tommy," she giggled, her stomach filling with butterflies at the sweetness of his voice. "I'll be home before you know it."

"Then I'll be waiting," he nodded, showing his sincerity as he squeezed her waist once more, his actions making her smile. His eyes flitted down to her lips then, their closeness and inviting nature becoming paramount in his mind again. "Can I?" he asked permission before doing anything, something he never could have imagined himself doing weeks ago.

"Please do," she smiled at him, her hands finding his collar as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers once more.

"Fuck," Tommy huffed, pressing his fingers to his eyes in frustration.

"So what do we do, Tom?" Arthur asked his brother, clasping his peaked cap in his hands. "He's there. He's for the taking. We could just..."

"No," Tommy cut him off abruptly, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands, "no, there'll be problems if we do that."

"Then what?" John chimed in, a bit of an incredulous look present on his face. "We know he did it. He shouldn't get to even think he got away with it."

"We do it another way," Tommy insisted.

"What way?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know yet," Tommy huffed, finally looking at his brothers before he continued, "but you fuckers better not try anything." He accented his direction by pointing at each of the two men as he spoke, his eyes wide to convey his seriousness.

Silence fell in the room then. John and Arthur shared a look before focusing back on their brother. They were both thinking the same thing...but who was going to be the one to say it?

Arthur looked to John again. "Seems like our brother's gotten himself a new perspective," he commented aloud, seeing Tommy's eyes snap to him from the corner of his.

A grin formed on John's face as he heard his older brother speak. Arthur was the one to cast the first stone. Now the floor was wide open. "I think it's because he's been going to that bloody church each weekend," he shared his thoughts on the situation.

Arthur shook his head. "Nah. The only reason he's going there is so he can give that girl a quick shag. You think it'll be worth it, Tom?"

Tommy was now seeing red. "What the fuck are you two going on about? Eh?!"

"That girl from Pol's place. (Y/N), was it?" John answered, even though the previous question was meant to be rhetorical.

"Yeah, yeah. That's her name. She's real pretty," Arthur commented, a smug grin now present.

Tommy couldn't take the comments anymore. He slammed his hand down on the desk, commanding their attention immediately. "Enough!" he bellowed, his eyes wide with anger. "You're not going to talk about her like that. In fact, you're not going fucking to talk about her at all. Understood?" He let out a heavy breath then, looking between the two of them before he swiped at his hair, returning the strands that had fallen over his forehead back to their resting place.

Neither John nor Arthur responded verbally to their brother's statement. Arthur let out a grunt of agreement and John merely nodded, both surprised by the show of emotion they'd just witnessed.

Tommy nodded in response to the silence. "Good. Now go out and figure out how we can get this guy. We need to do it cleanly," he gave them an order, one that made the two of them nod before turning and heading to the door.

John exited without another word, but Arthur stopped with his hand on the door's handle. He looked back to his brother, who had both of his palms placed flat on the desk as he finished recollecting himself.

"She really means something to you, doesn't she?" he broke the silence hanging in the room. His question made Tommy look up. They held eye contact for a few moments. Not a word was said. Arthur got his answer though; he could see it in Tommy's eyes. So instead of prolonging the staring contest, he nodded and exited the office.

Tommy let out a huff as the door shut, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the chair. (Y/N) came to mind then, and he relished in the thought of her as it made his stresses wash away.

Tommy just happened to be sitting out on the floor of the betting shop when the most out of place looking person entered the building. He clocked the man speaking to Scudboat and continued working on the papers in front of him as he tried to listen into the conversation.

"Is Mr. Shelby in?"

"He's busy. You'll need an appointment. That can be arranged with his..."

"I just need to speak to him for a moment."

"You'll need to arrange an..."

"He's fine to speak with me, Scudboat," Tommy cut into the conversation, coming over to where he and (Y/N)'s father were standing by the door.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby," Scudboat bowed his head as he left the conversation, knowing he was no longer needed.

"What can I do for you, Mr. (Y/L/N)?" Tommy asked (Y/N)'s father then, his eyes trained on the man who still looked so out of place.

"I'm not here to spend any money," the older man quickly replied, a rather sour look present on his face.

"I never thought you were," Tommy responded, hoping that his level voice would ease the other man's inhibitions. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked then, his brows furrowing as a feeling of worry washed over him.

Mr. (Y/L/N) looked around the room for a moment before his eyes found Tommy's again. "Can we speak somewhere more private?" he requested, the inflection of his voice not giving Tommy any concrete answer to his question. He hated that.

"We can," the gangster nodded, then moving towards one of the private offices - a little too quickly for his liking. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked again once the two men were behind the closed door.

(Y/N)'s father sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head every so slightly before he began speaking, "I know what you do...and I know that it's not right, nor good..." he started, his eyes darting around the room so he wouldn't have to hold Tommy's stare. "But I've seen you with my daughter, how you've tried to open up and let God into your life..." he paused again, taking another deep breath. Tommy wished he'd say what he needed to already. "She sees something in you that I can not, Mr. Shelby, and I hope that you see something in her that goes beyond physical desire."

"Way beyond, Mr. (Y/L/N)," Tommy was quick to tell him, "she's...she's changed me in ways I'd not thought possible."

"Good," the older man nodded, looking pleased with the response he'd gotten. Silence hung in the air then, and both men stared at each other. It was almost like one was waiting for the other to crack; for the other shoe to fall. Mr. (Y/L/N) was the one to speak first. "You have my blessing. You can court my daughter."

Tommy exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding upon hearing the other man's statement. He immediately extended his hand. "Thank you, Mr. (Y/L/N)."

"Treat her well, Thomas," her father sternly said, accepting the handshake Tommy had offered.

"I will."

Tommy and (Y/N) arrived at the road to (Y/N)'s home, and (Y/N) turned to face him like she always did. She smiled at him, sweetly thanking him for walking her home from church. Tommy smiled at her, tipping his hat and making her giggle - like he usually did. (Y/N) then leaned in and pressed her lips to his, giving him the quick kiss that she'd always leave him with. This time, however, Tommy's hands found her waist and he held her close to him when she pulled away.

"Be mine," he whispered against her lips, pulling back slightly so that his eyes could find hers.

"Tommy," (Y/N) breathed in response to his statement, "my father..."

"He gave me his blessing," he assured her, "will you be mine, (Y/N)?" he asked this time.

A smile spread across (Y/N)'s lips as butterflies erupted in her stomach. This is what she'd been waiting for. Everyone had told her that Tommy Shelby was a man who was to be feared, but that was not the Tommy Shelby that she had the pleasure to know; to get close to. And now he was asking her the question she'd hoped he'd ask ever since the first kiss they shared.

"Yes, Tommy," she answered with a slight nod, excitement bubbling up inside of her, "yes, I'll be yours."

Her words made a smile form on Tommy's face, and instead of saying anything in response, he leaned in and kissed her, showing her how happy he was to hear her answer through the passion he put into the kiss. She was the only person who'd get him to change his ways...and now she was his.

**a little bit about the background: this was based off of a vignette that I read in a book about America in WWI — a man, who was rather rowdy, into no good things, took interest in a woman, and the woman’s father told him that the only way he’d get to court her is if he came to church. The man essentially changed his lifestyle around for her because he was so interested in her and they eventually got married — so just like Tommy, he got the girl.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[halfvalid]

Hey! Since your requests are open, may I request opla!Zoro x reader (established relationship) where the reader has a lot of self doubt (not only in their looks, but their abilities and their place in the crew) since it’s, unfortunately, been shoved done their throat by pretty much eveyone they knew, even their parents, that they would never be good enough? Maybe Zoro figures out that they have sort of been spiralling lately and they have a talk about the readers past and the problems they’re facing and he comforts them? Maybe it ends sort of spicy or turns out full on spicy, if you’re comfortable with that!

daybreak

ABOUT

alternate title: some fluffy established relationship hurt/comfort to save my soul

rating: teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k (short; sorry!)

description: zoro notices you've been seeming off recently, and you confide in him your insecure feelings of self-worth. he comforts you.

tags: strawhat!reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, no use of ‘y/n’, soft zoro, ridiculously stupidly absolutely horrifyingly fluffy. 

author’s note: thank you so much for the very lovely request! i hope i did your prompt justice; i ended up not writing any spice at the end (just slightly suggestive) since i didn't think it fit the story but i hope you like it anyway ^^

it feels slightly ooc, but i also wrote it in the span of two hours at 1:00 am so can you really blame me. 

It was morning on the Going Merry, and you were cleaning up the wreckage that had been scattered along the deck in your last battle. The crew had gone up against some other pirates; it’d been late at night, and the attack had come suddenly, what you’d thought would be a peaceful docking turning combative quickly. 

You barely remembered the fight. One moment, the warning bell had sounded, and the next Zoro was rolling out of bed beside you, grabbing his swords and darting out of your bedroom before you could even register what was happening. The fight had gone in the Straw Hats’ favor, thankfully; Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji had fended off most of the threat, and you were back on the open sea, safe from enemies for at least a little while now. 

You let out a sigh as you swept shattered glass into a dustpan, shaking out the collected trash into a nearby empty barrel. None of the men usually bothered to start cleaning up—typical—so you’d pulled yourself out of bed as early as possible to get the ship looking a little more like normal. 

Zoro had left some corpses on the deck for you to deal with, and you’d had to toss them overboard, a grimace tugging at your lips as blood stained the white of your blouse. No matter. You’d finished sweeping, at least; all you had left to do was mop, right as everyone else was waking up. 

You filled a bucket with warm water and soap, and were just grabbing the mop from the closet when you heard footsteps. You glanced up, surprised to see Zoro heading towards you, one hand grasped loosely around his sword handle as always. “You’re up early,” he said, casual as ever. “Woke up and you were gone.” 

“Figured I should get a head start on cleaning,” you answered quickly, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you dunked the mop into the bucket. His brows creased as he watched you start mopping, pushing the handle along the deck to wipe it clear of bloodstains. 

“How long have you been doing this?” Zoro asked, after a few seconds of delayed silence. You shrugged, dunking your mop again before going for another few swipes. “We can help clean too, you know.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” you protested. You moved past him, trying very hard not to meet his eyes—but Zoro didn’t let you pass, one hand going out to grab the mop rod and stopping you in your tracks. “What?” 

“What do you mean, least you could do?” Zoro asked blankly. 

“I mean—” you shrugged, muscles limp like your entire body was sagging you down. “You and the others were the ones to deal with the pirates, so I figured I could at least—”

Zoro still looked confused, brows pulled together, forehead taut with a frown. “I distinctly recall you throwing a pirate twice your size overboard. Unless I was imagining things.” 

You sighed. “Not what I meant.” You tried to push past Zoro again, but he didn’t let you, hand still tightly grasped around your mop handle. 

“Okay, what did you mean, then?” 

“Nothing. Will you just let me finish cleaning so there aren't blood stains all over Luffy’s ship?” You sighed again, even as you attempted to keep the sound inside—but you couldn’t help it. It was like there was an anchor stuck inside of you, pulling everything from your feelings to your body down, the weight of gravity tugging at your features. 

“Luffy’s ship?” 

You shrugged. “The Straw Hats’ ship. Whatever.” 

“Our ship,” Zoro said. There was a certain twinge of something in his words; still blankness, but laced with a dawning realization that you weren’t sure you liked. “You’re upset.” 

“Nope.” This time you really did manage to get free of Zoro’s grasp, yanking your mop out of his grip and starting back on cleaning the deck. The acrid smell of iron hit your nose as you scrubbed the dried blood off—you’d have to go back in later with a sponge to get all the cracks and crevices, but for now this would be okay. 

Zoro followed you, unceasing with his interrogation. “Yes, you are. I know when you’re upset, and you’re upset. What happened.” It was more of a statement than a question—Zoro didn’t often doubt himself, really, which was one of the many things that’d helped make you stumble into falling for him. “Was it about last night? You know the cook's just making fun when he keeps a counter, right? It doesn’t matter if he brought two or five more men down than you.” 

“It’s not about that,” you insisted. 

“So you admit you are upset.” 

You groaned, finally turning to look Zoro in the eye. He’d stopped walking, the dawning sun glinting hazey gold onto his skin in the early hour. There was still an overcast of blue from the night in the sky, and it made the heavens look ethereal, watery and glittering. 

“Come on,” he urged. “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“It’s really nothing you need to be concerned about,” you attempted, but your voice was weak now. Zoro stepped closer to you, gently pulling the mop out of your hands. Your fingers let go easily. “It’s silly.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “Out with it.” 

“I don’t know, I just—” your fingers clenched, like your hand was trying to find something to do now that Zoro had rid you of your mop. “Comparatively I just don’t do much. So I want to help out as much as possible.” 

“Who said you don’t do much?” 

“What?” 

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself,” Zoro said. He let the mop fall to the ground, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Who said you don’t do much?”

“I mean, nobody. It’s just true.” You shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the way Zoro was looking at you—all attentive, like he was trying to strip you raw with his eyes, uncover whatever secrets might be hiding in the pores of your skin and the gaps of your teeth. “Luffy’s the captain, we wouldn’t be able to do anything without Nami, you and Sanji are the fighters, and Usopp’s everyone’s favorite. I’m just kind of… filler?” 

The more you spoke, the worse your words got, your tone turning more desperate as the sentences fumbled out of your mouth. Zoro’s eyebrows raised higher as you went on, and you flushed, red prickling all over your skin. 

“First of all,” he started, “Usopp is not my favorite. That’d be you. And—where are you getting this from?” 

You shook your head, trying to backtrack. “Nothing. Nowhere. It’s not that import—”

“Yes, it is, and we’re talking about it.” Zoro pulled a nearby barrel by the side of the ship, plopping himself down atop it and gesturing for you to sit. You didn’t, but you did move over to the railing, hands curling around the painted wood. “Speak.” 

“I have nothing to say,” you tried. Zoro just shot you an unimpressed look, and you squirmed. “Fine. I don’t know. I joined last, so I just figured… you were all kind of already set without me, right?” 

Zoro shook his head. “We’re a crew,” he said, voice strong but somehow still gentle. “You’re part of us for a reason. What, this entire time did you think you were—expendable?” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “No.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Last night—I only got, like what, two guys? And you reacted way faster to the situation than I did,” you started, words flailing around on your tongue as they rushed out. It was indelicate, for certain, and you yourself couldn’t make sense of most of the words—but once you started, you couldn’t stop, even as they slurred together. “I was still getting out of bed and grabbing my weapon when you’d already dealt with half the enemy crew.” 

“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Zoro said with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair. I’ve been training since I was eight. It’s different.” 

You huffed out an exasperated breath, trying not to let your frustration get the best of you. “I can't help it sometimes. It’s a bad habit.” You loosened your grip on the ship railing, staring out at the golden clouds hovering over the sky.  “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Zoro answered. He didn’t say anything after that—giving you a space to talk, you supposed, in case you wanted to. But his hand did reach up to press against yours, pinky brushing against your finger as he held onto the railing beside you. 

“I guess I just always had these standards back at the village,” you managed out eventually. Your island had always been one of the more traditional places in the East Blue, and there were plenty rules and guidelines abound. One of the many reasons you’d left the place in favor for Luffy and the Going Merry, really. “So I just… always want to do more. It’s not that bad.” 

“Right.” Zoro’s pinky looped around your finger, now, holding it close in a soft kiss of the hands. You sighed. 

“My parents were kind of rough on me, I guess,” you tried, sneaking a glance over at Zoro’s face to see if it satiated his curiosity at all. His expression remained as steel as ever, so you just continued. “They wanted me to be the best I could. But their standards were too high, even when I was little.” You found yourself rubbing circles into the back of Zoro’s hand with your finger, more so to comfort yourself than for any other reason. “Just normal stuff, like being upset about my school grades or my combat training levels being too low. Nothing that terrible.” 

“But…?” Zoro asked, tilting his head up to look at you. You smiled, but the action didn’t reach your eyes—it was all mouth and jaw, cheeks lifting but eyes glinting with the same glazed stare. 

“It just affected me a lot, I suppose,” you answered. “Always trying to get better. Never satisfied. And I guess now—I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough.” 

“For?” Zoro asked. His voice was low, soft, all hollow and empty inside. There was a tinge of roughness lacing it, like he’d forgotten to clear his throat, and the scratch of his vocal chords had surfaced up along with the words. 

“Myself. My parents. Luffy. You.” Your lips tightened into a line. Vaguely, you could feel the warm pinpricks of tears starting at your waterline, and you tried to will them back, letting out a little laugh. “Everyone, I guess.” 

Zoro’s hand had come to hold yours fully, fingers woven in between yours, thumb pressed firmly against the joint of your thumb. Somehow, that one motion managed to force the last of the words out of you—all wet and soft, eyes glued fiercely to the horizon in fear of seeing what was etched on Zoro’s face. 

“We do arranged marriages back at home,” you started, trying very hard to keep your voice from trembling. it worked only marginally—there was a tiny quaver in your tone, but it was soft, not noticeable unless you were really listening hard. “And my mom used to tell me I’d die alone. Because I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough for any of the boys there.” 

“Oh,” Zoro said. It was quiet; barely a whisper. You tried for a wry smile. 

“I like helping, though. I don’t mind cleaning up or whatever. It makes me feel more useful.” You tried to tug your hand out of Zoro’s grip, but his fingers tightened, keeping you in place. A nervous laugh escaped your throat. “And I know I’m part of the crew and all of this is just silly. So it’s really fine—”

Zoro tugged your intertwined hands to his chest, causing you to stumble and glance down at him in surprise. His expression was nearly unreadable. It’d darkened, and there was a contemplative gaze in his eyes, lips parted with invisible words perched on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, and your stomach dropped, the nervousness that had gathered inside during the conversation tightening up into a hall. “Don’t say it’s okay or that it’s not important. If it’s making you upset, then it matters.” 

“I guess,” you tried, and Zoro’s gaze lifted to fix you with a glare. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, I just…” Zoro shook his head. “Look, whatever your parents used to tell you, whatever you have ingrained in your head—it’s not true. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more, but… you don’t have to do it. You’re enough already.” 

Your gaze softened, lips falling open to say something, but Zoro wasn’t finished yet. “You shouldn’t come out here and force yourself to clean up just to make up for your—waste of space, or something. You’re not a servant. And you’re not wasting up any space. I think everyone would agree that you’re a very important and vital part of the crew.” 

“Thanks,” you whispered. Zoro’s hand was warm around yours, and you felt the threatening droplets of tears start to rise up at your waterline, ready to fall at any moment now. Zoro just nodded. 

“You’re a great fighter, and way smarter than what you give yourself credit for,” he said firmly. He raised your hand to his mouth, then, leaning over to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. “And the boys on your island have to be blind, because you’re pretty enough. You’re more than pretty enough.”

He whispered the last words, all soft and sacred on his tongue. “You’re beautiful.” 

That was enough to drive your tears over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flow as the warm sensation of liquid streaking down your cheeks began. Droplets caught in the crevice of your lips, and at the hinge of your jaw—Zoro brought a hand up to wipe them away. “Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“Yeah, I just, um.” You shook your head, sniffing. “Thank you. That… helped. I think.” 

Zoro bummed out his response. “Of course,” he said easily. “You’re my girl. It’s my job to cheer you up.” He kissed your knuckles again. “And you can talk to any of us. I’m not really the best at this, but everyone else…” he shrugged. 

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him. Zoro nodded, tugging you down until you finally took a seat on a crate beside him. “I think it’s just been worse lately.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re better than the waiter,” Zoro said. You just laughed. 

“I think you’re biased, but thank you,” you said. “Here, I, um, I promise I’ll let you know if I’m feeling down, I guess. If you don’t mind.” 

“Definitely don’t mind,” Zoro answered. This time he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, somewhere at the bottom near the back. “Leave the mopping for someone else. You’ve already done a lot.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as Zoro kissed the rest of the way up the back of your neck. He placed a final one right below your earlobe. With that, Zoro stood up, sweeping one arm under your legs and hoisting you up. You cracked open an eye to regard him with a blank look. “What are you doing?” 

“Bringing you back to my room,” Zoro answered. “You didn’t get much sleep tonight. And I doubt anyone wants to watch me kissing you on the main deck anyway.” 

That was fair enough reasoning, so you didn’t complain, letting him carry you all the way to his cabin and gently lay you down onto his bed. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your lips—you could still taste the saltwater from your tears from before. “Want me to stay?” Zoro asked. 

“You don’t have to,” you said automatically, and Zoro raised both his eyebrows. You let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Please stay.” 

“All you had to say,” Zoro said, shedding himself of his shoes and swords before leaning over the bed to watch you. He didn’t slip under the covers or anything, just propped an arm up on the mattress, kneeling beside the bed. There was tender silence for a few moments before Zoro spoke again. 

“I love you,” he said abruptly, voice rough but somehow still soft. Your heart beat too fast in your chest, ribcage squeezing in on the organ and making it skip. His hand slid along the mattress to find yours, and you took the offer, fingers clasping around his palm. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back. Zoe leaned over, then, the hand not intertwined with yours tilting your jaw over just so to allow him better access to your mouth. He kissed you full-on, tender but firm, mouth working against yours in a way that unraveled you entirely. Your grip on his hand tightened as he deepened the kiss, a soft sound emitting from low in your throat. Finally you broke apart, heaving for breath, exhales mixing together midair. An exchange of souls, you’d heard once, somewhere. 

“Come on,” you murmured, tugging Zoro closer to the bed so he got the hint. He slipped beside you onto it, turning your head again to meet you in another kiss. His hand drifted down to your waist, holding you securely in place.  

“I don’t think anyone should need us for a few more hours, right?” Zoro asked, and you laughed. He swallowed up the sounds with his mouth, tongue licking languidly into you as he rubbed delicate circles into the skin of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and then he was kissing you again. 

You let him siphon the soul out of your lungs, knowing you were getting his right back. 

© halfvalid 2023

[grimmsbride]

USELESS FUCKING JANITOR [ daisuke / reader ]

after a small incident with jimmy, you’re left feeling miserable and a little bad for yourself. luckily a certain useless ray of sunshine pops in just to comfort you

tags / jimmy mentions & him being a dick | ooc characters | reader is a janitor | this fic is kind of messy i apologize | fluff | kissing | two young idiots and their feelings | daisuke can’t stand jimmy | reader lowkey needs to stand up for herself | just fluff nothing more | minor hurt w/ comfort

notes / this originally was gonna be smut but i decided to go a different direction, whilst the next daisuke fic will def be smut. please enjoy and please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

You hadn’t know the co-captain for long. You didn’t know much about his background, values, or morals. You didn’t know a thing about him, yet you knew enough to steer clear of his path. Something about him was unnerving, and sometimes downright odd. One such being the way he loved to pick people apart. Metaphorically digging his fingers into a person, pulling each little insecurity as if perfect bullets for his emotional ammo. You’ve seen Jimmy do this to Anya, reminding her of her flaws and lack of accomplishments. You wondered how exactly she continued the day as if his words had no effect. Like water off a duck’s back.

Other times it was his captain and even friend Curly. Though far in between. While few times it was Daisuke, the only bundle of optimism left tracking around the ship. You couldn’t deny the affection you were slowly developing for the other. Was it simply you being a hormonal young woman in close capacity with another hormonal young man surrounded by grumpy older people? Or was it something else? Either way you couldn’t deny the way your stomach fluttered each time he would smile at you, wave, or even blink in your direction.

Let alone how he met Jimmy’s usually harsh words with a bright beam of a smile, declaring he’ll do better. Only for the co-captain to sigh and mumble something under his breath, truly bothered by the intern’s existence.

If only you were capable of taking a piece of his personality in times like this.

The day had started off simple, you walking around; earbuds shoved in whilst cleaning up. From dusting, scrubbing, to wiping down surfaces; you were nearly done with your daily duties. Unless of course someone made a mess later, but the others were luckily nice enough to clean up after themselves like the grown people they were.

The last task was to mop, one you dreaded quite a bit. While the clean smell the chemicals left behind were a nice touch, you truly hated how heavy the mop got or how bulky that ugly yellow bucket was. Regardless of your opinion you had a job to do, and fulfill it you would.

The wheels squeaked against the floors as you dragged the large bucket, the chemical-water swishing against the walls of the plastic container. You slowed your dragging as you came across the hallway, humming softly along to the music currently blasting in your ears.

You silently thanked your past self for the taking the time to pack your i-pod, knowing you wouldn’t be able to survive a second on this place without it. And despite Curly’s slight reservations about it — safety and all that — he didn’t bother you much since you got your work done efficiently.

Plunging the long stringed mop into the water, you slowly lifted the heavy weight up and between the unholy yellow contraption. Grabbing the black bar, you pushed, wringing out the excess water for a moment before releasing the mop from the tension. Once satisfied you lifted the mop out, slowly dragging it against the floor in careful strides, assuring each space was throughly cleaned.

In the midst of your focus, and between songs; you couldn’t help but hear a voice you came to enjoy. Your eyes flicked to the side, spotting Daisuke standing in the main lobby, wearing a nervous smile whilst his mentor stood over him.

You couldn’t make out everything they were saying but you got the gist from the expressions plastered across their faces. One of irritation and the other of nervousness. Nine times out of ten Daisuke accidentally messed something up with his overzealous nature once again.

You rose the mop blindly, plunging it into the water just when the man glanced over at you. You spotted a little crinkle of his lips, his once nervous smile growing just a bit cheeky. You could only chuckle softly, lip quickly being bit to silence your laughter. The last thing you wanted to do was get on Swansea’s bad side as well.

Unfortunately, however, with your focus elsewhere you hadn’t even realized how rough you were being with the mop. Attempting to pull it out suddenly grew difficult the moment it got caught on the edge of the bucket, tipping it forward and soon falling.

Just in time for a certain co-captain to be walking by.

All color drained from your face as a loud swear fell from his lips. Your eyes settled onto the man, spotting the darker colored fabric of his uniform. Luckily there was no bleach in the bucket.

Jimmy glared down at his clothes before turning the harsh stare to you.

“Are you incapable of mopping or something?”

You swallowed harshly, gripping the handle of your mop nervously. “I—i’m sorry Jimmy, I..”

“You have the easiest job in this entire place and you still manage to find a way to fuck it up.”

You clammed shut instantly, watching his lips continue to move yet not hearing a thing. You felt raw and open under the harmful speech he uttered, forcing yourself to breathe as not to shed tears. You had done so well before keeping your head down near this man, escaping his radar as not to cause tension.

But of course, your luck ran out in this exact second.

“Useless fucking janitor..” Jimmy finished, walking off, shoes noticeably squeaking with each step. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your rapid heartbeat slow the moment he was out of earshot. Still, his words rung through your mind, clouding it and soon your vision.

You blinked rapidly, quickly moving to lift the bucket and clean up the mess you created.

All under the watchful eye of a certain someone.

“Hey, what are you listening to?”

Your eyes slowly rose from the floor of your room, drifting over to the young man currently occupying space in the doorway. His lips were curled into a little smile, tapping his fingers against the entryway for a moment before stepping inside fully— the door sliding behind him.

You shrugged a little, waving your i-pod lazily. “Some random song.” You mumbled back, attention going back to the floor as drums and singing filled your ears. Usually you were up for conversation, loving to go on tangents about the music blasting in your ears. Through your talks, it felt as if you were still connecting to your home back on Earth.

Earth.. oh how you wished to go home. Away from that god forsaken co-captain that just loved to ruin another’s day. It’s not like it’s your fault his life is so shitty. He shouldn’t take it out on you or anyone else for that matter.

Stewing in your anger, you hadn’t notice Daisuke come even closer until he was standing right beside you. In a split moment he was dropping to sit beside you, knee grazing your own as he crossed his legs.

“Mind if I listen?”

You thumbed the circle button of the little device, lips pursed stubbornly. No, you can’t listen. I rather stew and rewind that complete embarrassment of a lecture I received hours ago. Was your first thought, ready to leave your tongue as your eyes darted over to the other.

Except you couldn’t. Not when he was smiling like that, so sweetly; eyes crinkled and pretty lips curled. You swallowed silently, a shaky hand lifting to the earbud closest to him and extending it towards the other. His fingers grazed your own as he grabbed the bud gently, coming just a bit closer to you as he tucked the bud into his ear.

Daisuke’s head went slack, hands falling to his lap as the music ran through his ear. It’s been a while since he heard good music like this. Not the typical instrumentals Swansea played — albeit rarely — when they were working. No, this was perfect. A nice reminder to what he has back home.

“Let me ask, do you listen to this music when you’re cleaning up?”

You nodded slowly, moving a bit uncomfortably whilst leaning back into your bed. “Yeah.. I can clean without music but ya know, I prefer it.”

“I get what you mean. Helps you stay focused doesn’t it?”

Daisuke peeked at you, causing your mouth to run dry; deciding just to nod. A silence entered the room shortly after, the two of you simply listening to your music; your lips slowly moving to mouth the lyrics. Within the second chorus of the song, was when Daisuke spoke again.

“What Jimmy said earlier..”

You shook your head, “Daisuke, you don’t have to say anything. I’m not a child, I don’t need to be consoled after being lectured.” You said cynically, eyebrows furrowing just a little as you glanced at anything but him.

But, the young man didn’t let up. Daisuke gently begun again;

“I’m not consoling you. Just.. reminding you how cool you are.”

You snorted at his words, eyes finally stealing away from the floor to glance at him. “You being funny?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. You watched, in a rather annoyed manner, as the man shook his head— with enough force his earbud slid a bit, causing him to quickly adjust it.

Despite his assurance, you weren’t convinced.. at all.

“I’m a janitor, Daisuke. I highly doubt that’s cool.”

You watched as his eyes rolled, furthering your minor irritation and confusion.

“You’re a janitor.. yeah— but think about it!” Daisuke hummed, flashing another one of his perfect smiles. “Without you this ship would be filthy, smell bad, and maybe even dusty. Terrible conditions for someone to work or live in.”

You glanced away, struggling to keep your lips in a neutral position. “Anyone can clean, Daisuke.”

“Yeah but you’re the one doing it. Not me, Curly, Anya, Swansea— or Jimmy. You are..”

You shivered as you felt gentle fingers on the back of your hand, causing your eyes to blink back to the other occupying the space beside you. Drifting from that sweet smile down to your hand, you noticed his fingers gently tracing your knuckles for a moment. The feeling was.. pleasant, intimate— enough that a heat of warmth flushed from your chest all the way to your cheeks.

“—You’re just as important as anyone else on this ship.” Daisuke hummed, stealing your attention back to his words. With ease the man was curling his fingers around your hand, turning it over to then link his digits with your own.

“At least I think so. And..”

This time Daisuke leaned close, lips just a breath’s away from your ear. “Whatever you splashed on Jimmy just made him smell.. wayyy better.”

You snorted, now all smiles and teeth as laughter escaped you. Your own pleasant sounds mixed with his, the two of you bumping into each other in the midst of your joy. You hadn’t even noticed the squeeze he was giving to your hand, nor the way your head was practically leaning onto his shoulder.

Moments of this bliss passed before you two could slowly settle down, realization of your current positions quickly dawning on you. Your eyes drifted to the hold resting on your lap, the cool sliver ring he wore rubbing against your heated skin. Your eyes rose from the hold and over to the man beside you, spotting him already looking at you.

Again, that same warmth overtook you— the same warmth that has been doing so for months; every time you looked at this bundle of sunshine. Your lips curled in onto themself, struggling to keep eye contact as nothing seemed to swirl in the eyes staring back at you.

Only when they suddenly flicked to your lips did you get even an inkling of what he wanted. Luckily, the feeling was definitely mutual.

Squeezing his hand, you moved closer— Daisuke meeting your advance and pressing his lips to your own. The kiss was slow, full of uncertainty yet passionate enough that same bliss trickled throughout your entire body. His thumb circled your skin, whilst his other hand reached over to gently grab your arm.

Moments passed before the two of you were satisfied, or more like out of breath; pulling away as your chests rose and fell in tandem. Your head lowered to rest against his shoulder, smiling to yourself as his warmth and your music consumed you.

“So uh.. does this mean we’re… together?”

You chuckled softly, turning to stamp a kiss against his neck, feeling him shiver.

“Yes Daisuke.”

[localkiss]

MY DADDY'S LOLLIPOP ♡

pairings: james sunderland x fem!reader

synopsis: You've been acting up ever since he got home, snuggling against him in the wrong way, watching a scary movie. And he decides that enough is enough, beginning to put you in your place. Teach you how to be a good girl again.

cw: MDNI, INCEST, DEAD DOVE, SLIGHT OOC JAMES, nipple play, unprotected p in v, creampies, oral (m receiving), guilt, mentions of mary, dirty talk, spanking, daddy kink, desperation, virginity loss, slight body worship, slight somno, pet names, manhandling, pregnancy kink, praise/degradation kink. lmk if i missed anything.

wc: 4.8k

masterlist & my ao3

thank you @bunnyclaire for proof reading <3! tags: @gettingsilly @withonly-sweetheart not sure who else 2 tag... also forgive me if there are some errors, fixing it in ao3 and then pasting it here is ass. </3

You hum your way around the house, clad in a nightgown and your underwear. It's too bad your dad couldn't make it back in time to start a binge fest of scary movies. It's not fun when you watch them alone, but you decide to do so anyway. 

  Picking out Scream, you push play. Snuggling up into your warm and thick blankets on the couch. With your snacks on your lap and your drink on the coffee table, you are all set! 

  Since you rewatch the same movies every year, you know the plot like the back of your hand. Even though you know it so well, you still jump at the scary parts and your heart thumps wildly. If your dad was here, he wouldn't stop teasing you for every little jump. 

  As the night goes on, you begin to nod off. With your hand in your bucket of candy and your head tipped back a fluffy pillow. You made it through at least three movies before getting too tired to continue the binge of movies. Groaning, you shift in your sleep. 

  The loud buzzing of your cell phone on the coffee table immediately wakes you up. Your heart leaps out of your chest as you frantically locate the source of the noise. The house is quiet and dark, except for the few noises from the fridge in the kitchen. Picking up your phone, you see it's your dad. 

  ���Mm.. dad!” You croak out, rubbing your eyes. 

  “Hey honey. Just wanted to let you know I'll be home soon, okay? Make sure the front door is locked. Are you having fun watching the movies?” 

  Humming, you set the bowl of candy down on the table as you pad your way to the door. Double checking if you locked it or not. “I already locked it dad. I fell asleep watching one of them, it's just not the same without you. Hurry back,” you whine into the phone. 

  James sighs deeply, “Okay. See you soon.” He hangs up and you turn to flip the switch so there's light in the living room. Making you squint your eyes to see for a few moments. 

  Cozying back up in your spot, you put on The Nightmare Before Christmas. Perfect movie to fall asleep to. Pulling your blankets up over your shoulders, you begin to munch on your candy. 

  This time, you set down the candy as you feel yourself getting tired. Yawning, you snuggle your face into your pillow. Allowing your eyelids to droop and get heavy. The TV slowly begins to muffle out into background noise. 

  It doesn't even wake you up when your dad finally gets home thirty minutes later. Opening the door and finding you curled up, with the movie playing at a low volume. James sets down his bag on the table after locking the door and kicking his shoes off.

  Humming as he shuts the TV off, picking your body up carefully, with your blanket still wrapped around you. He pushes your door open and sets you down on your soft mattress. Adorned with the few stuffed animals he bought you or won for you. 

  Grunting, he begins to tuck you in. Quickly going back to grab your pillow and place it under your head. As soon as he deems you comfortable enough, he begins to walk away. 

  “Daddy…” 

  But you sleepily grab onto his arm, tugging him back to lay with you. You know, you're getting too old for your dad to hold you until you fall asleep, but that doesn't mean James won't not do it. Especially when you are trying to keep yourself awake for his sake. 

  “Sweetheart,” he starts, climbing into your bed behind you with a grunt. “I'm sorry for not being here with you on time. Forgive me, okay?” He presses a chaste kiss to your hairline and you nod a few times. 

  “Good.” James wraps his arms around you loosely. 

  Feeling the warmth of his chest press against your back just makes you melt. Nobody will ever top your dad. He's always going to be the best. 

  And you immediately knock out. He doesn't leave just yet, knowing that sometimes when he leaves, you wake back up. So, a lot of the times he ends up falling asleep next to you too. Resting his forehead against your shoulder. The rise and fall of your breaths and the soft mumbles lulls him to bed. 

  His arms instinctively flex and tighten around your middle, drawing you closer to him. It's the days like these where your mom's death gets to him. That damn disease taking her away from you both. Your dad pretends he's alright, that her death didn't take away from his life. Didn't take away the little joy of simply being there, alive, and able-bodied. 

  It doesn't help that you have the same sad eyes as your mother. Oh, no. Not one bit. Does it bother him? A little, but deep inside it festers into something else. Enjoying the fact you are becoming more like his late wife than a different person. Your own person. He just pushes those thoughts away because you are his baby girl. Not his dead wife. 

  Really gets him going sometimes when he sees you dress up all pretty in those skirts. Showing off your legs with your pantyhose and thigh high socks. Sometimes those skirts are a bit too short for him to feel comfortable with you being out and about in them. 

  He can't police you on what to wear and not to wear. What does he know about fashion? Nothing. Has worn the same MG65 Field Jacket for years. As long as it doesn't have holes in ‘em, he'll wear them to death. 

  Especially when you ask nicely for him to take you out to the mall or to simply go on a walk with you. Who goes on walks dressed like that? You do. 

  It doesn't click in his mind on why you choose those shoes when you know you've gotta walk a lot. Thinks they're cute anyways, blisters aside when you start bawling about your feet hurting. So, yes , daddy does carry his little girl around when she needs him to. And yes, you are spoiled. Probably a bit too much if you ask anyone else. 

  Hours later, you groan, stretching your body. Feeling your dad's body right up against you. Blinking, you squint, looking around the room. It's still dark out, drawing a large exhale out of you. Maybe you can start up the movie marathon with him again. 

  Turning around, you begin to shake your dad awake. “Dad, wake up. Wake up…” you grumble, hearing him breathe heavily like he's about to wake up.

  “Daddy, wake up!” Raising your voice and pushing him to lie down on his back. Climbing over his lap and sitting down, beginning to shake him with more force. All of that motion causes you to sort of bounce against his lap. 

  James's eyes open slightly, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “Hmm.. baby? What's wrong?” Blinking and furrowing his eyebrows to see you. Breathing heavily as his body fully wakes up. 

  “Let's go watch our movies, please?” Holding yourself up by placing your hands on his chest. 

  His hands squeeze your hips as he opens and closes his mouth, thinking of what to say. All he can think about is how this sight of you sitting on his lap like this, makes his cock start to harden. The weight of your body, the feeling of your shapely ass and your flesh, it's all so stimulating. 

  Groaning, he closes his eyes. The fat of your hips and the way his fingers sink into you, makes him imagine you bouncing on his cock. Him holding and helping you keep steady as you work yourself on him. Crying out for daddy as you cream around his girth. 

  “Okay.. okay.” He nods quickly. 

  Leaning down, you kiss his cheek with a giggle. “Let's go!” Getting off of him and running out of your room, into the living room. The sound of your bare feet hitting the hardwood echoes throughout the house. 

  James gets up, “I'll be right there honey. Let me change into something more comfortable.” Walking over to his room, closing the door and stripping down. Throwing his clothes into the laundry basket, he opens the door to his walk-in closet. Stepping into his plaid pajama pants and tugging on a random shirt. 

  Sighing, he looks down at his little friend. “Oh for god's sake,” shifting it around so it isn't visible anymore. Praying it goes away soon. It would be so embarrassing for you to notice it and put two and two together. 

  He isn't ready to tackle that kind of stuff yet. James walks out of his room and makes his way to where you are at. Finding you all curled up and putting another classic movie on. 

  “Are you cold honey? I can go and get your blanket and we can share it, if you want.” 

  “I'm okay. I can just cuddle up to you,” giggling, patting the cushion behind you. “Come sit here.” 

  James slips behind you, trying to keep some distance between your ass and his naughty not-so-little friend down there. While watching the movie, his arms swoop around you as you slouch against his chest. Feeling you jump at the sudden noises, he has to stifle his laugh. So cute, he thinks. 

  Towards the end of the movie, you wiggle to be snug against his chest. The warmth transferring to your back. Sitting up and repositioning your head to be comfy. Holding onto his left arm, feeling the bit of muscle he has. 

  He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. And the movie ends, you scramble to switch to a different movie. Feeling your ass touching his groin, so.. so.. sooo snugly. Looking down, he watches the way his cock kicks against the confines of his pajama pants, begging to be freed. Sweat begins to form on his scalp, beading soft droplets around his hairline. It's okay, it's okay James.. just—just relax. He sighs, placing his hand on your knee, the other one still wrapped around your waist. 

  Your skin runs hot and tingly as soon as your dad’s hand is on your knee. Wanting to squeeze your legs shut, feeling your cunt throb and ache. Remembering the times you have accidentally seen him touching himself. How he spat on it, just to tug it faster. The soft moans and groans he let out, being careful not to draw your attention with the volume. At that point, you started to tiptoe back to your room to finger yourself. Covering your mouth with your free hand, as humiliation flooded your veins. 

  But, you keep still, knowing and feeling his hard-on against your back. Wanting to appear as innocent as possible, as you make him horny. You push back, wiggling like you are resituating yourself. Grinding, catching the way his hands and arms flex, inciting a smirk out of you. Halting your movements, you turn your head, pressing your lips against his cheek, near the corner of  his lips. 

  And he dips down and kisses your temple. You titter and lower your chin to your collarbones, feeling his fingers start creeping their way towards your side. Knowing he’s about to start tickling you. 

  The movie is simple background noise, drowning out the creaks of the house. He laughs behind you, warm breath tickling your ear. Then, his hands start attacking your ribs and armpit, erupting a guffaw. 

  “Dad, stopp!” Squirming, you push down, trying to get away from his hands and eventually your head lays right next to his bulge. Kicking your feet, you fail to get his hands off of you. Laughing so hard, your cheeks are stained a cherry tomato red, and you're beginning to sweat. 

  Without even thinking about it, you turn and press your face just a few centimeters away from his no-no zone. Just wanting to hide yourself away from his tickling fingers. His hips jumped up a centimeter or two. A puff of warm air exhales from your mouth has James hissing faintly. 

  Hearing him react to where your face is located, you smile mischievously. Deciding to take it up a notch, see how he acts. Relocating yourself on his stiff member, nuzzling into it.

  “What is this, dad?” Your voice is muffled, vibrating against him. “Is it candy?” Soft and innocent as you can be. 

  “Oh,” he twitches against you, “uh… it-it’s nothing special, honey.”

  “You're lying, I know you're hiding candy away from me dad! I want to see what kind it is,” you shift onto your haunches, furrowing your eyebrows and pursing your lips. Grabbing the waistband of his pants and boxers, tugging it down impatiently. Cunt throbbing and leaking slick into the gussets of your panties. 

  And his dick springs out, standing straight to your attention. Before you could do anything, James grabs your hands and yanks you over his leg as he situates himself to sit up properly. Feet laying flat against the floor. 

  Without a warning, he hikes up your nightgown and gropes your backside. Pulling a cheek and spreading you open, just to let it go and smack your ass. Squealing, you writhe on his lap, feeling tears start to flood your eyesight. 

  “Bad girl,” he scolds you, “I don't remember teaching you how to be a slut. But since you want to see it so bad, I'll teach you how to be a good girl again. Spank you over and over again until you've learned your lesson.” His rough hands hit against each cheek until you are full on sobbing. 

  “Got that, baby?” James rubs his hands across, soothing your sensitive and raw skin. Welts of his hand prints are all across them, making him bite his lip at the sight. “Say, ‘yes daddy' .”

  “Mm.. y-yes daddy,” you whimper out. 

  “Good girl, now get on your knees and take that nightgown off, sweetheart.” Patting the back of your thighs as a signal. 

  You pry yourself off of him, legs wobbly as you stand between his legs, sliding off your nightgown, leaving you in your red cotton panties. Holding onto him as you get on your knees. Looking up at your dad, with a pink tear stained face. 

  Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Such a good girl,” he hums, stroking your hair. “Now open that filthy mouth for me.” 

  Opening your mouth, staring into his clouded eyes, waiting for your next command. Hands on his thighs, trying not to look down at his lap. 

  “Now, baby, daddy's going to feed you what you thought was candy. Okay?” His right hand pulling away from your head and giving his cock a few strokes. Watching you nod and blink slowly at him. Slowly, he guides his tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth on him. 

  “Suck on it like a lollipop,” James’s left hand gently holds your hair back. “Yeah.. just like that, princess. Just like that.” Loving the way you suckle on the tip, going down with a slow pace. 

  You close your eyes, the weight of his fat dick is heavy on your tongue. Heavy, but perfect. The taste is salty and bitter, with a hint of sourness. Moaning around his girth at the praise, you decide to try and take him deeper. Wanting—no—needing to hear your dad praise you in that sweet tone. Nails digging into his plaid pajama pants, you gag loudly, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jerking your head back to cough and catch your breath.

  “Good job baby, daddy's so proud of you. Who knew you could take it like a champ?” Tugging your hair back to make you look at him, he ravages your lips, sliding his tongue into your wet cavern. Kissing you until your lips are swollen. With each and every whine, his manhood twitches. 

  He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about Mary at a time like this, but god, your lips felt the exact same as his wife’s. Shouldn’t even be comparing you to your mom. If anything, it makes the dark, fucked up part of his mind have the need to ruin you in a way a daddy mustn't do to his offspring. You are his daughter, he knows he would treat you better than any other guy would. You are his princess, the apple of his eye, his whole world that he is clutching onto with every fiber of his being. 

  Your hands grab onto his shoulders, arching your back and pressing yourself towards him and the cushions. “Dad,” you swallow down his spit, heaving after an intense make out session. “Please touch me daddy, please.” Saliva dripping down to your chin, mixed in with his precum, and blown out “fuck me” eyes are currently being ingrained into James’s psyche. 

  Groaning, his hands being to traverse over your chest, taking his time to truly admire you. Eyeing you up and down, he mumbles praises, as his eyebrows pinch upwards slightly. “Stand up for me,” giving your tit a squeeze, his eyes following the movements of your body. Resting at your waist, he plants kisses across your sternum. Teasing you into thinking that he’s going to immediately latch onto your nipples. 

  “Where do you want my hands honey? Show daddy where you need him the most.” Making his way to your breast, deliberately avoiding your areolas. Worrying your skin as he flickers his gaze from your face, down to your chest. 

  Grasping him, leading them towards your underwear. “Right here daddy,” your voice is soft and airy, giving the illusion that you are innocent. When in fact, you are the complete opposite of it. It's sort of like a roleplaying thing for you.

  James finally starts to lick and suckle on your stiff peak, switching between the two until they are puffy and red. Dancing around the waistband, groaning when you tug on his hair. “So impatient, baby,” he grips the fat of your hips, moving you closer to him. “Sit on daddy's lap.” 

  You do as he says. The wet, lukewarm saliva and cum mixture paints an inch or two of your skin. Shivering as his breath fans over your sensitive and wet nipples. Perching like a pretty princess on his lap, holding onto daddy to seek comfort. To retain all of his love, care, and attention. 

  Swiveling your hips down, wanting so badly to reach in-between the space of your bodies, and lay his cock down. “Dad,” you gulped, “touch me please. Please, please, please—” Trailing off into a mewl. Eyes fluttering into his tired green eyes. 

  Your dad's thumb presses against your mound, before cupping it. Letting out a low moan at how wet you are. Just for him. Because of him. And that inflates his ego and makes his heart swell up with pride. Mary never let him do anything like this to her. Only wanting to make love, slow and soft. 

  His middle finger presses against your slit, spreading your lips with the fabric. Taking in how chubby your pussy is. Pulling the waistband up, forming an exaggerated camel toe. “You like how I'm touching you, hm?” 

  Whining, you rock your hips down once his hand returns to it's spot. Looking down at what he's doing to your cunt, makes you clench down on nothing. James's tired, glossed over eyes flicker back and forth from your face and to his hand. His other one is holding you up, splayed across your lower back. 

  “So pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, leaving kisses where your ribcage is splitting into two. Sighing, he slips the damp fabric to the side and leans back. Biting his lip once he sees the clear strings of slick connecting you to the garment. The sight of your naked body over his lap, wet for him, is what really snaps this into reality for him. 

  Bashfulness is painted all over you as your thighs quiver against your dad's. Making yourself smaller and begin to cover up from instinct. James doesn't stop you as he presses his thumb to your wet folds, groaning and bucking up, drawing a gasp from you. Rubbing circles into your clit with ease, adding pressure with each swipe. 

  “Mmph, dad, daddy, daddy, dad! Oh please…” 

  Hearing your whines and moans bouncing off the walls and into his ears, makes it feel like it's a song. A song only he can hear and play. With the instrument being your body. 

  “You ready?” James pats your glistening lips softly. The squelching fills the silence as you reel your mind back into place. 

  “Yes, yes, yes, ‘m ready,” you dip down and press your lips frantically upon his own. Slipping your tongue in and basking in the fuzzy, warm feeling. Letting go of your embarrassment, you tangle your fingers into his hair. Hips twitching forward as he notches the blushing head against your opening. Easing you into the feeling of something bigger than your fingers entering you. 

  Suckling on your tongue, he gently pushes you down on him. Not wanting to hurt you and make you cry out like that. If you're going to be crying, it better be because daddy's making you feel real good. “You okay? Does it hurt, baby?” He's massaging your hips, trembling with desperation. Absolutely needing to pound that tight hole into the ground. 

  Your mouth is open in a silent moan, tugging on the strands that  are in his scalp. “Mhm.. hurts a little bit,” grinding down, taking more in at your pace. Until he's nestled deep into your wet pussy, grazing the womb. Jumping at the sensitivity. 

  Shallowly, James thrusts up into you. Placing his forehead on your collarbones. Groaning out sweet little praises, telling you how brave you are for taking his dick. Anything and everything coming out of his mouth, with the thought of what sounds the dirtiest and loving things to say. The need of fulfilling your expectations of how good and how sexy it all is. 

  He hasn't had sex in awhile, the only thing he remembers is his fist. But that doesn't even compare to you, at all. And you begin to chase the fullness he provides you. Humping down into his thighs, pussy so wet it's running down to his balls. 

  “Such a good girl,” he moans, all breathy. Leaving your hips to play with your chest. Tweaking your puffy nipples and squeezing the fat of them, before he puts his mouth into play. “Taking daddy so deep, making a whole mess out of yourself. Right?”

  Keening, you push your chest further into his face. His other hand that isn't preoccupied goes down to the swell of your ass and slaps it. Pulling away and pressing his thumb down on your clit. Feeling you flutter around his girth and watching your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

  “Dad, please—more!” Bumping your nose into his forehead, breath all hot and fanning across his skin. Adding more sweat and tension to the palpitating air. Your panties sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Creating an absolute puddle on his lap. Drenching his pajama pants with your arousal. 

  Being greedy in the way he is treating you with such care and love, digging your nails deep into his shirt. Bouncing up and down like you own his cock. Like a slutty little porn star making incest videos. If you were to post it on there, nobody would bat an eye, thinking you are lovers or co-stars. 

  “Shit, baby,” he grunts, pulling you down and making you take it. Keeping the pace he wants to go at. Sloppy and irregular, threatening to spill deep inside of you. “Can I cum inside of you please? Let daddy fill you up, please honey.” Whining at how sensitive he is becoming. He isn’t as energetic as he used to be. Can’t last too long.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Opening your eyes straight away, you gape into his eyes. Moaning into his mouth, squeezing him tighter than ever before. The stuttering of his thrusts and his thumb rubbing your clit so diligently, pulls you over the edge. Soon after, James follows suit, pumping you to the brim as you ride out your orgasm. 

  “Daddy!” You scream out, holding onto him for dear life. Creaming all around him, squeezing his fat dick for all he's worth.

  “So beautiful,” groping your thighs as you tremble atop. Clinging to daddy as always. “Sweetheart, hold on. If you give me a few minutes, we… we can keep going.” Pressing soft kisses on your cheekbones, dragging his tongue down to that soft spot. The one where you squeal and get extremely ticklish. Adoring how your heartbeat rises up dramatically when he sucks on it like a Werther’s Original.

  And you stay nestled on his softening cock, rope after rope of his spend shooting up into your womb. Feeling so stuffed, you're sure your belly is protruding just a bit. The milky liquid bubbling out of you and pooling on his pelvis.

  “Dad,” you whimper, rolling your hips down. “Are you going to marry me when I get pregnant?” Tucking your face underneath his jaw. The jumps of his manhood and his hips as you ask that question, forces soft noises to exhale from your throat. 

  Petting your hips, he groans lowly into your ear. “I- I don’t know, hun.” Digging his nails harder into your skin, too pussy whipped to even be in the correct state of mind. “Would you want me to?” Whispering against your neck, sucking small hickeys to ease the sensitivity of you wiggling around on his length. 

  “Uhuh, want to stay with daddy forever,” mindlessly bouncing, ignoring the whimpers coming out of his puffy kissed bruised lips. “Please? Want you s’bad dad, pump me so full that I can’t walk.” And it’s flooding his mind of you swollen with his babies, being the perfect mommy as he spoils you with love and attention. Taking care of your every need, carrying you around because his baby girl deserves it. He deserves to have a proper wife, proper family. A wife who won’t catch a damn disease. 

  The squeezing of your gummy walls, is wringing another orgasm out of him. In a flash, he pounces on you, pushing you flat on the cushions. Folding you in half as he begins to fuck you harder and faster than before. Plap, plap, plap, his balls hitting your ass as you begin to claw at him. 

  Ignoring your cries, he humps you with the intention of fulfilling his fantasy. One that Mary could never begin to achieve. Breath coming out fast, gusting across you. Keeping his hands underneath your knees, pinning you down with his weight. Eyes trained on the faces you’re making, his pelvis making contact with your clit, so perfectly. “Y’gonna take all of dad’s cum? Yeah?” Edging you on, moaning into the kiss he drives. All teeth and spit. 

  Messy enough to coerce another toe curling orgasm, but this time it’s slow and syrupy. Leaving you cockdrunk and pliable to his every need and want. Your thighs squish against his neck, creaming so much it’s forming a ring at the base of his cock. Cunt too tight, about to cut the blood flow, causing him to feel lightheaded. 

  Being a babbly cutie beneath him, he whispers out some “Yeah?”, “You like that?”, “That right, baby?”. Watching you come to tears, sobbing for daddy. Head dangling around identical to the way a lasso whips around, no thought behind those eyes. Closing his eyes tightly to hold onto the pleasure he is receiving from your wet pussy. Already addicted to it, deciding he’s going to make some father-daughter time happen every single day. Take you out shopping, just to pound you in the dressing room. Buying all the clothes that he humped you in. 

  “Ohh… I’m going to cum,” he growls, his hips faltering. “Mhmm… god, I’m cumming in my daughter’s wet hole. Fuck, Mary forgive me, please.” Trailing off into a high pitched mewl, dropping down on you. Gently fucking his cum deeper into that womb, painting your insides white. 

  As it starts drooling out, he stays put. All that exercise really winded him out. “Honey, dad really loves you.” Planting sweaty kisses across your cheeks. Faintly hearing a response back. “Let’s go to sleep. Can’t have you sleeping out here, daddy will keep you warm all night long in his bed.” 

  Leaning back on his haunches, he pulls out. Fluttering cunt oozing out his spend, sheer white plastered everywhere in your nether region. His chest swells up with satisfaction, knowing that he was the first and last one to dump his load into that needy cunt. Picking you up and making his way to the master bedroom. 

[heylittleriotact]

⚰ＷＩＰ ＷＨＥＮＥＶＥＲ⚰

I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx and love seeing their work pop up on my dash - thank you <3

The Soup du Jour is... smut! Plotless, pointless, porntacular, horny Emmrook smut.

We've got praise kinks, we've got flashing, we've got grinding, we've got trying-to-distract-this-poor-man-from-his-work, we've got Rook biting off more than she can chew when Emmrich calls her bluff. It is in this piece that I am (ultimately) going to make good on my threat of Emmrich reciting erotic poetry intimately into Rook's ear while he makes deeply passionate love to her, because that idea has lived rent-free in my head for days now and I need to manifest it. But first I need Rook to be a brat, and for Emmrich to... deal with that.

I was having doubts about this one because I am forever afraid of writing OOC, but honestly I'm just trying to chuck it in the fuck it bucket and have fun.

Tagging: @preciouslittlebhaalbae (you have TIME now MWAHAHAHA), @allofthebarks (don't hold out on me), @emmg (I know you're cooking 👀)

Under the cut because it is ✨EXPLICIT✨

𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃:

A funeral event where the prepared body of the deceased is reposed in the casket (open or closed) so that mourners may pay their respects, say their goodbyes, and grieve communally prior to the formal funeral service.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she pulled on the flimsy little camisole. She had very specific plans in mind when she slipped into the thin leggings that she knew were just a little too tight. There was a distinct reason she had chosen to completely forgo underthings. 

She tied her thick hair into a low bun at the base of her skull so her neck was clearly visible… as was the somewhat faded love bite from their previous encounter - the one that made Lace turn beetroot when she laid eyes on it at breakfast. The one that prompted Taash to reach over the table with a congratulatory high five. Emmrich had coughed awkwardly and subtly adjusted his own collar, clearly hoping the marks Amina had left on his neck in return were concealed.

She padded barefoot down the hallway to the laboratory, stomach fluttering and turning on itself in a not unpleasant way with the sheer anticipation of being in his proximity again. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him - his immense gravity could not be ignored; her need to be near him was insistent. She put little stock in the novelty of fate before Emmrich, but there was no doubt in her mind that there must have been some sort of cosmic ruling in which they were unwittingly sentenced by the stars to find one another. Her belly smouldered at the thought of such a thing… of such belonging.

She knocked gently on the door. “It’s me - may I come in?” 

She didn’t have to wait for an answer, nor did she have to turn the knob herself: she heard a chair scuff over the flagstone, the muffled jingle of gold - a sound that set her heart racing more often than not these days - and the door was flung open. Emmrich stood in the threshold, beaming affectionately down at her. 

“Of course, darling.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door once she was inside. She might have been embarrassed that the sound of the lock clicking behind her made her breath catch solely due to its implication, but she was having a hard time feeling much of anything but barely restrained lust for the man in front of her. 

He drew her in close with an arm around her waist, still holding her hand between them, massaging her palm with his thumb as he bowed his head to kiss her sweetly. Her knees went weak when his lips met hers and his familiar scent filled her nose, rendering her brain incapable of anything other than inwardly chanting the same base sentiment over and over for as long as the kiss lasted: Home! Home! Home! Home! You’re home!

He straightened and looked at her, smiling as though he hadn’t heard the hungry little moan that had slipped from her, nor perceived the way she’d pressed as much of her body against him as she could during their embrace. “How are you today?” He asked, genuinely interested - as always. He knew. Surely he knew that she was positively bursting with need for him.

“Fine,” she breathed, returning the smile, watching as he started back towards the desk that was covered with books, inkpots, and parchment. “I’m well, thank you. Just thought I’d come say hello, see what you’re up to.”  

He pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the desk for her to sit on. She opted to remain standing instead, her eyes flitted over the pages of drying ink spread over the desk. 

“More letters home?” She waited until he was settled in his chair again, the quill back in his hand, and she bent at the waist to take a closer look at a recent anatomical drawing he’d completed. She could feel the cozy heat of the laboratory caress the exposed peaks of her breasts as the insubstantial shirt draped downward, offering a generous eyeful to anyone who might be sitting directly across from her. 

Her eyes flicked up from the drawing when Emmrich didn’t answer right away, a clever smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she caught him red-handed; his eyes locked on the dainty swell of her breasts. 

He came to his senses when he felt her eyes on him and he comprehended the coquettish smirk on her face. “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Yes. Maintaining alliships and channels of communication is vital as we draw closer to our confrontation with the gods.” He swallowed and smiled again as Amina straightened and rounded the desk, settling against the wood on his side now.

“A fine plan,” she concurred, leaning back on her hands, her very visible nipples more or less eye level for the handsome academic to admire. “I hope I’m not distracting you: it’s so rare that I get a few hours to just relax these days.” She made a bit of a show of tilting her chin up and slowly rolling her head from side to side, stretching out the muscles of her neck and making sure Emmrich could see the soft plum-tinted bloom of colour he’d imparted on her skin as he sent her over the edge with his name on her lips, buried to the hilt between her legs as she clenched hard around him, her fingers curled tightly in his soft, thick hair. ‘You are incredible, darling,’ he had sighed against her tingling skin afterwards when they were little more than a tangled, panting heap of limbs. It had taken a good hour after that before she could walk again…

Amina squirmed against the desk a little at the thought, aware of the burgeoning wetness that was accumulating at the juncture of her thighs. 

Somehow Emmrich managed to maintain the discipline required to look back at the letter he was working on, his lips curling quaintly. “Not at all, my dear - quite the contrary in fact: I’m so glad that you’re finally taking some time to look after yourself.” He dipped the quill, tapped it once, twice, and then brought it to the paper.

She observed him in silence until he seemingly made peace with the fact that she was not going to sit on the chair he’d brought over for her, and instead pushed his own back slightly, pulling her down onto his lap where she perched gleefully, having gotten what she wanted. 

“I must concede that you are somewhat distracting, so I will need your assistance in proofreading these before they’re sent out - I do have an academic reputation to maintain, regardless of the beautiful woman on my knee.” 

“Is that so?” Amina purred, nuzzling into his neck, her lips barely ghosting over his skin that smelled organic and clean - crisp soap and freshly cut sage… a lingering hint of pipe tobacco and expensive brandy. 

Oh yes, she was going to be one hell of a distraction…

“She sounds like a real piece of work, this woman. It’s a marvel that you get anything done at all with her around.” She tilted her hips ever so slightly. Not enough for it to be claimed that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but enough so that the fingernails of his left hand dug into her side a little where he gripped her. A pleased smile took her lips at the feeling of him against her, already half hard: he could pretend to be aloof and composed all he liked, but she knew that there was only one possible outcome for this encounter. 

“I was just having a similar thought, as it turns out,” he murmured, breath catching slightly when Amina ground against him more deliberately this time. “She’s cornered me in my laboratory no fewer than three times this week, you see: my productivity has utterly plummeted.”

The way he whispered those words, his voice so sinful and cunning…

“Oh dear…” Amina tutted. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” She moved to slide from his lap, fully prepared to at least pretend that she cared a whit about Emmrich’s ‘productivity’ of late. 

He held her fast though, keeping her on his lap with his hands and arms, and the sheer fact of his existence alone. She rewarded him with a satisfied hum and another agonizingly slow roll of her hips, suspecting that she was probably beginning to soak through her thin pants.

His hand dropped from her waist to her thigh and he palmed the expanse of hard muscle there, dragging his fingers towards her hip as he leaned forward and his hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear, driving a small gasp from her as she flinched in his grasp: he had not been idly boasting during that dinner date about his anatomical prowess.

“I fear I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he confided, those artful, nimble fingers of his straying to her waistband and slipping beneath it. He sharply inhaled through his teeth and uttered a soft ‘oh’ when he found her waiting for him, slick and needy. There was a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “She is intoxicating, you see…”

She moaned encouragingly as he swirled a finger through her, clearly enjoying the experience of her arousal alone: she could distinctly feel his hardness against her rear now.

Oh how she longed to ravish him - ride him to completion on this very chair, or on the floor perhaps. Maybe against one of the many bookshelves that lined the room - they had dallied against one the week before, her leg hitched up around his thin waist, pulling him deeper as he set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs and hit angles that caused her to see stars. 

Or she could bend over the railing of the balcony upstairs and feign interest in the curious nature of their environs while he slammed into her over and over again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips… 

Of course there had been the rather awkward instance a few days earlier where Manfred had wandered in on them both in a state of partial undress: Emmrich’s waistcoat hanging open, Amina dragging her hands through his hair, her own shirt piled in a careless heap on the floor nearby and Emmrich’s hand down her pants as she tried to kick off her high-heeled lilac slippers without removing her lips from his skin. Manfred had launched himself between the two of them with a consternated hiss, clearly interpreting their entanglement to mean they were fighting instead of well… the other thing. The following day, Emmrich gave his first in a series of many lectures to Manfred about the birds and the bees - and reiterated the invaluable virtue of always knocking before entering a room that might have someone else in it.

She was snapped from her musing at the sublime sensation of Emmrich’s finger dragging along the ridges of her walls as he slid the digit inside of her. She let out a small gasp at the intrusion and reflexively clenched around it, hips rocking against his once more. 

“... but I really must finish these letters.” There was a playful, coy edge to his voice as he slowly withdrew his finger and slowly pushed it back in. “This striking woman of mine will need to exercise patience today, it seems…”

Something about being his striking woman in particular sent a jolt of arousal straight through her very soul. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against her feverish skin as he cupped her sex, his thumb brushing almost tauntingly over her aching clit. 

“Please, Emmrich…” she whined, arching up into his touch, making her need plain. 

The demonstration of manners earned her a second finger, but her lover did not deviate from his task as he leaned forward, dipped the quill, and began to write once more. “In good time, my precious love,” he soothed. “Try to relax for the time being - I shan’t take long.” 

“It feels so good though…” 

“That’s wonderful, darling - I want you to feel good.” 

She fell silent, the wind in the sails of her desire to argue stilling as she let her head fall against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to exist in the moment - holding on tight to every emphatic response of her nervous system as Emmrich touched her with a capable familiarity that suggested he’d touched her a thousand times before; the erotic symphony of the quill scratching over the parchment mingled with the sound of his fingers moving within her… her breathy moans… his many bangles shifting gently with each purposeful gesture…

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured eventually - she had lost track of time - kissing her shoulder before returning to the letter. He had to be nearly done, hadn’t he? “So good for me… my sweet Amina…”

She whimpered at his words - the reverent praise tolling something deep within her that was starved and lonely. She writhed on his thigh as he placed tender kisses all over her cheek and crooked his fingers, stroking that euphoric place inside of her that made cognizant thought impossible and made her thighs tremble like she’d been in the training hall all day. He took her apart slowly, casually… effortlessly, and before long she was fluttering around him, cheeks and lips flushed a delicate pink, staring down an orgasm that was about to be everyone in the building’s business - she could feel it: the deep fire in her belly roiling and twisting on itself, going taut, so tense and eager that one more touch could snap it, yielding the most decadent release…

And then he was gone, the absence of his touch keenly felt as her walls flexed and tensed around the sudden nothingness. 

She glowered at him, though her stomach flip-flopped enthusiastically as she watched him taste her on his slender fingers with a dignified poise she should have expected. “That was cruel.”

“Is it cruel to strive to linger in a garden of untold majesty forever, even knowing forever is unobtainable?” He stroked those same fingers gently over her lips and she caught the tip of one between her teeth, flicking the very tip of her tongue over the fleshy pad of it. “I want to savour you, my dear.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. “Let me take my time.”

[remuswriting]

READING THIRST TWEETS; MSBY BLACK JACKAL

Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa are invited to Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets, and they recognize a certain user. (plus the aftermath)

TAGS: Thirst Tweets (sexual); Not Beta-read; OOC probably; Male! Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,247 words

NOTES: This a part two to this post. This part is a mixture of writing and smau. I will say there is slight Atsuhina in this, but it's Atsumu pining essentially.

Translation for something Hinata says "Desde o primeiro momento que te vi, não consigo parar de pensar em você." From the moment I saw you, I can’t stop thinking of you. (I got this from a website, so please tell me if this is incorrect)

If Atsumu is going to be completely honest, he’s excited to read these thirst tweets.  He knows some people (Sakusa) find that weird, but he finds thirst tweets to be more funny than anything else.  Sometimes, the more deranged the better.  He and Osamu read thirst tweets while drunk at Onigiri Miya, so it’s not like he’s going to be wide eyed and stuttering about them today.  That’s probably why Kousaka, MSBY Black Jackal’s PR manager, put him in this; Buzzfeed Thirst Tweets.

“Have any of you watched these before?” Kousaka asks as people put light makeup on Atsumu.

“I have!” Shoyo says with a bright smile. “Kenma and I watched some after hearing about this.”

“Sakusa-san?” Kousaka asks, and Sakusa slowly nods.

“Yeah.  I’ve seen clips on TikTok,” Sakusa says, which it’s news to Atsumu that Sakusa even has TikTok.

“I’m not even going to ask you, Atsumu-san,” Kousaka says, not even looking at him. “Bokuto-san?”

“Nope!” Bokuto says, and his smile is just as vibrant as always, just like his volume being just a little too loud. “I know what thirst tweets are, though.”

Kousaka nods. “Alright, good.” He reaches over and picks up a bucket off of a stool. “This bucket has all the thirst tweets.  You’ll all take turns reading them, which means you may not read ones for yourself.” He hands it to Sakusa, who places it to be on the edge of his knee. “Do not start until after they’ve started filming and you’ve introduced yourselves.”

“Got it, Kousaka-san!” Shoyo says, and Kousaka smiles a little before taking a deep breath and gently releasing it.

“Let’s hope this goes well.”

Only 10 minutes later, everyone is situated and ready for filming.  Atsumu loves PR, which Kousaka knows and drags him around just about everywhere.  He’s not great with people, but he can be charming enough that it works out for him.  Kousaka doesn’t understand it, but he uses it whenever they need some PR.

“Behave,” Kousaka says, and then they’re filming.

“Hello, I’m Miya Atsumu.  Setter for MSBY Black Jackal,” Atsumu says with a smirk, and he’s not sure if he’s supposed to introduce himself like that.  It seems like a fun way, though.

“I’m Bokuto Koutaro! Wing spiker for MSBY Black Jackal!” Bokuto says, a little too loudly from excitement.  Kousaka puts a finger to his lips behind the camera to remind Bokuto to calm down a little.

“I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi.  Wing spiker for MSBY Black Jackal,” Sakusa says in a monotone voice.  He’s said he doesn’t want to be there, but Atsumu knows that Kousaka doesn’t force people to do things they don’t want to.  If Sakusa told him no, he wouldn’t be here.

“And I’m Hinata Shoyo!  Wing spiker for the MSBY Black Jackal!” Shoyo says with a bright smile.  He’s also someone Kousaka drags around for PR since he actually is good with people.  Atsumu is also always better when Shoyo is there as well. “And we’re here at BuzzFeed to read your thirst tweets!”

“Do you ever see thirst tweets online?” someone behind the camera asks.  Kousaka covers his face with a hand, which makes Atsumu and Shoyo laugh a little.

“Course,” Atsumu says, laughter still in his voice a little. “It’s what happens when you’re this attractive.”

“More like what happens when you look up your name to see if anyone is talking about you,” Sakusa says, and Atsumu rolls his eyes.  Sure, that’s exactly what he does, but he’s not going to admit to that.

“Do not.”

Sakusa narrows his eyes at him, and he’s not wearing a mask, making it easy to see his frown.  He’s just about always frowning, so Atsumu doesn’t take it to heart. “Then show us the last thing you looked up on Twitter then.”

Atsumu’s eyes go wide. “I don’t have to do that.”

“So you’re admitting you do it?” Sakusa asks, and he sounds so smug.

Atsumu opens his mouth, but Shoyo grabs the bucket from Sakusa’s knee and pulls a piece of paper out. “Please @bokutomsby I am but a hole for your using.”

“A hole?” Bokuto asks, processing what he just heard.  His eyes widen. “Oh! Thank you, but that doesn’t sound very enjoyable.”

 Atsumu rolls his eyes as he chuckles a little.

“How many tweets do you think will mention them being a hole?” Shoyo asks casually before looking up at Kousaka. “Where do I put this paper?” Someone quickly puts a trash can near them. “Thank you.”

“Too many,” Sakusa says.  He leans away from Shoyo—away from the bucket more like it.  If he’s acting like that now, then how will he act when the tweets start actually getting dirty?

“My turn,” Bokuto says, and Shoyo hands him the bucket.  Bokuto pulls a piece of paper out. “User sakukiyo says: I’d let Sakusa Kiyoomi fuck me on every surface possible and spit in my mouth if it meant I got to see those thighs up close and personal just so I could thank him.”

Sakusa cringes. “No thank you.  I think I’ll pass.”

“Sakusa-san,” Kousaka says, and Sakusa rolls his eyes.  Atsumu has seen this interaction a hundred times before.  Kousaka gets onto Sakusa and then Sakusa stops being such a stick in the mud. “Also, Bokuto-san, you don’t need to read out the username.”

“Oh, sorry,” Bokuto says, looking a little guilty, but a simple smile from Kousaka erases the expression.

“I want to read another,” Shoyo says, and Bokuto hands over the container to him. “Miya Atsumu needs to rail me disrespectfully. Please, I know how to beg,” Shoyo reads out, but it doesn’t sound like he’s just reading it.  It sounds like he’s saying it with his own words.  Atsumu’s heart is in his throat.  He cannot get horny during an interview.  Kousaka will murder him.

“Good thing I know how to be disrespectful,” Atsumu says, trying to sound seductive.  Shoyo laughs beside him. “Hope all of these are that good.”

“Well dailyln only gives the best thirst tweets,” Shoyo says, and Atsumu wonders if they’re going to bleep out the username.  A lot of Y/N’s followers will already know which tweets are his, even though Atsumu doesn’t.  He’s seen the tweets, but he doesn’t remember who tweets what. “I wonder how many of his tweets will be in here.”

“Hopefully only one,” Sakusa says. “Atsumu’s already cocky enough.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he takes the bucket from Shoyo. “I want Hinata Shoyo to smash my skull between his thighs like a watermelon,” Atsumu reads.  All of them look at Shoyo’s thighs.

Shoyo flexes his thighs, and Atsumu has to remind himself that he’s not allowed to get horny in an interview. “I don’t know if my thighs are that strong,” Shoyo says, and he tilts his head. “I’ve never even tried to smash a watermelon before.”

“You should try!” Bokuto says, and Atsumu can’t wait to hear the end of this. “Last New Year’s I did it because Akaashi dared me.”

Atsumu doesn’t know Akaashi super well.  Osamu knows Akaashi far better than he does, but Atsumu knows Akaashi is just a little weird.  Bokuto either doesn’t know it or ignores it.  What Atsumu is getting at is that it’s so believable that happened.

“Did you take videos or pictures?” Shoyo asks, looking at Bokuto with wide eyes over Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Yeah!  I’ll have to show you them later!”

“Boys,” Kousaka says.  He always has to remind them to stay on task when Bokuto comes along.  Atsumu looks at Sakusa, who grumbles slightly as he takes the container and gets a piece of paper out.

“I never know what Hinata Shoyo is saying when he speaks Portuguese, but fuck does he sound good,” Sakusa reads off, not sounding entirely monotone but not putting his all into it.  Atsumu feels like he could’ve ghost written that.

Shoyo grins at the camera, but it’s a little feral.  It’s one of Atsumu’s favorite smiles on Shoyo.  It’s the one he has after a really good spike. “Really?” Shoyo asks, and Atsumu knows he’s about to be fucked. “Desde o primeiro momento que te vi, não consigo parar de pensar em você.”

Shoyo’s voice deepens slightly when speaking Portuguese, and Atsumu grips the side of his chair.  He’s so gay.  Fuck.  He is so gay.  Gay panicking in public should be something he’s used to by now, but he’s not God’s strongest soldier.

“That one was also Y/N,” Sakusa says as he leans over to throw the piece of paper away. “Just in case you wanted to know.”

Sakusa leans over Shoyo to hand Atsumu the bucket to hand to Bokuto.  Shoyo leans back a little, and it’s a simple exchange.  Bokuto takes the bucket from Atsumu with a smile as he pulls out a piece of paper. “Oh, to taste tsumu’s thighs as they’re wrapped around my head like earmuffs. Finally, some good fucking food,” Bokuto reads, and Atsumu’s thirst tweets seem to rival Sakusa’s in being slightly cruder.

“Glad I’m being appreciated for the meal I am,” Atsumu says with a grin, and he’s trying to ignore the way Shoyo is staring at him.  It’s his hungry stare, and Atsumu can only handle so much before he has a gay breakdown.

“I feel so bad for those who have terrible taste,” Sakusa says with a soft sigh, as if to make it more sympathetic. “Hopefully, their taste buds are fixed soon.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Atsumu says, but there’s no real bite in it.  Honestly, he finds it a little funny with how Sakusa said it.  He should be upset, but part of him can’t be from the comedy of it.

Sakusa simply rolls his eyes before extending a hand for them to give him the bucket.  He’s quick with pulling out the paper.  Atsumu only saw two left when he briefly looked as he passed it on.

“My ideal weight is Bokuto on top of me,” Sakusa reads out, and he looks over at Bokuto, who is laughing.

“If I lay on you, then I may crush you,” Bokuto says, which Atsumu can believe.  Bokuto is mainly made of muscle and weighs the most out of the four of them.  He’s just built thick.

“I think that’s what they want Bokuto-san,” Shoyo says, and Bokuto nods.

“Then I guess I should lay on them, shouldn’t I?” he asks, and Atsumu watches Kousaka close his eyes and let out a deep breath.  He should’ve expected this when he brought Bokuto to this.

“I think they’d love that,” Shoyo says, and Bokuto grins.  Shoyo turns to Atsumu. “Atsumu-san gets to read the last one!”

Atsumu takes the bucket when it’s passed to him.  He hopes it’s something filthy.  That’s probably a strange want, but he’s having a little fun.  He’s having gay panic, but also having fun.

“I need to see what Sakusa Kiyoomi’s wrists are capable of. Please I’ll be so good, just give me a chance,” Atsumu reads aloud, and Sakusa rolls his eyes.

“What are your wrists capable of, Omi-san?” Shoyo asks, and some would think he’d ask it innocently, but he doesn’t.  Atsumu hears the plotting in it.  Sakusa and Shoyo share a look before Sakusa is bending his wrists to where his fingers comfortably press against the skin of his wrist.

“I guess they’re capable of this,” Sakusa says, and it always amazed Atsumu that Sakusa’s wrists are that flexible.  He’s watched him stretch them every day at practice, but still.  It’s unnatural.

Shoyo turns to the crew. “Isn’t there another one?” he asks with excitement. “One that’s just awful?  You gave one to Dylan O’Brien.”

Apparently, Shoyo hadn’t been lying when he said he watched some of these with Kenma.

Kousaka shakes his head a little. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Hinata-san.”

Shoyo pouts. “Please,” he says, dragging out the word. “If it’s too bad, I won’t read it aloud.”

Kousaka nods, and someone gives Shoyo a piece of paper.  He holds it close to himself so Atsumu can’t read it.  His concentrated expression melts, and he’s laughing.  He’s full on cackling, and none of them know why.

“Definitely can’t read that one aloud,” he says as he crumbles it and throws it in the trash. “But it was good.”

They say their goodbyes and are back in the car.  Curiosity keeps eating at Atsumu over what the last one was that made Shoyo laugh like that.  He’s not sure he’s ever seen him laugh like that before.

“What was so funny about the last tweet?” Bokuto asks for Atsumu.

Shoyo looks up from his phone at Bokuto. “I don’t know if I’d say it was funny.  It was more like laughing was the only way to respond to it,” Shoyo says with a shrug. “But it was basically about an orgy between that person and us.”

If Atsumu had been drinking something, he would’ve spit it out all over Sakusa’s face. “They included something like that?” Atsumu asks, bewildered.

“Well, I had to ask for it, so it wasn’t really included,” Shoyo says with a small laugh. “It was detailed, though.  I didn’t know someone would think that hard about something like that.”

Atsumu nods, trying to get his mind around someone tweeting that.  The tweets they read aloud weren’t terrible, but that one is something else.  Eventually they’re talking about the upcoming game against the EJP Raijin.  Everyone has people they want to beat, and Atsumu is ready to take down Suna.  He imagines Suna is thinking the same thing about him (hopefully).

[satorulovebot]

cursed seas chapter five | you're on your own, kid

↳ satoru gojou x reader

genre — heavy angst, pirate au, 18+ 

word count — 10k

tags/warnings — 18+, mentions of cannibalism, neglect, mentions of anxiety and depression, ooc gojo, explicit smut (don't get too happy), mentions of death

notes — gojo is an ass. that is literally it. if you thought he was nice in the last chapter and had some character development, no I dangled a carrot in front of you sawwy. maybe one of these days i’ll stick with a theme. also he doesn't behave like this to be an ass but it's more of a trauma response and other things. also, the reader has a hard time standing up for herself in stressful situations. She has no problem insulting gojo when shes not in a stressful situation just to clear the air and give her more characterization. also my smut skills are rusty as FUCK it’s been so long don’t make fun of me. anyways this has been long enough rb's and comments always appreciated and my inbox is always open :3

prev. never saw you coming | next. the lakes

The sky above the ship was a muted gray, covered with thick clouds that hung low over the horizon. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, and the dampness clung to everything it touched. The island you were heading to was located amongst other islands. The islands were commonly referred to as the Sanguine Islands, some of the biggest islands in the Caribbean.

Captain Gojou stood at the helm as his hands rested on the ship's wheel. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was just as carefree as always. But you did know better. He was back to his usual self—cocky, arrogant, and always in control. He behaved kike the night before had never happened. What upset you the most was that you thought the two of you were getting somewhere. But it was all replaced by the same facade he wore when you first met him.

“Alright, gather ‘round,” Gojou called out. “We’ve got a map, and it’s time to head to our first destination.”

You were sitting on a wooden barrel when Gojou asked the crew to join him. You were speaking to Megumi and Yuuji about the map and if they had any ideas of what they would do with the treasure. Eventually, you walked over to him and stood a few feet behind the group, your fingers nervously clutching the map. Honestly, you didn’t want to give him the map, not after everything that happened, but you didn’t have a choice.

Still, you hesitated.

“Hey!” Gojou’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “The map, sweetheart. Don’t make me ask twice.”

You swallowed hard before stepping forward to hand him the map. Your fingers brushed against his as he took it from you, and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

“Good girl,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear. The words were like a slap in the face. You stepped back, away from the group, as Gojou spread the map across a table on the deck. 

The way he acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t torn into you just hours ago, made your heart ache.

“We’re heading to an island,” Gojou began. “roughly three days' sail from here. It’s marked as uninhabited on most maps, but according to this,” he tapped the weathered parchment, “it’s got something we need. All you need to know is that we’re going there.”

“There is a catch, though. The island’s got a bit of a reputation. Cannibalistic locals, or so the rumors say. I’m not one for ghost stories, but if you’re the type to scare easily, consider this your warning to stay on the ship.” Gojou went to pick up the map before shouting out, “Oh, and Y/N, you’re coming too.”

The journey to the Sanguine Islands was uneventful, save for the occasional stormy waves that rocked the ship. You kept to yourself as usual, except for talking to the kids and Nanami. 

Something about those kids, though, was that they always seemed to be in a hurry. The other day, I saw Yuuji bringing a bucket below deck. I have never seen him get seasick or anything, and he lives on a ship. But it’s none of my business. 

It’s better to keep a low profile anyway, you thought to yourself. Besides, teenagers are sneaky.

Gojou seemed also to be keeping to himself. His usual cocky grin was back on his handsome face. It was unfortunate he was a good-looking man.

Finally, the islands appeared on the horizon, or at least what you could see of them. They were small, jagged pieces of land shrouded in mist. “This place gives me the creeps,” Yuuji muttered as he prepared to drop the anchor.

“It’s just an Island Itadori. You’ll be fine since you’re staying on the ship,” Nanami voiced.

“We’ll split into two groups. Half of you stay with the ship, which includes the kids, and the other half comes with me. Shokou, you also stay. We’ll check out the island, grab whatever treasure we can find, and return by nightfall.” Gojou announced.

As Gojou had previously stated, you were heading to the island, though you wished you weren't. You had a bad feeling when your feet touched the sand, and that feeling would only worsen. The group consisted of you, Toji, Getou, Nanami, and Captain Gojou. 

The deeper you ventured into the jungle, the more uneasy you felt. The trees seemed to close in around you, and the air was more humid than usual. Every now and then, you could hear the distant rustle of leaves from what you assumed were animals moving around in the underbrush. But whenever you turned to look, there was nothing.

“I don’t like this,” Getou muttered behind you.

“Quiet Suguru,” Gojou snapped. “We’re almost there.”

But “there” was nowhere to be found. The deeper the five of you went, the more lost you felt.

“Maybe we should head back?” You suggested quietly.

Gojou ignored you. Of course. But you could see the frustration in his expression as he tried to make sense of the map. 

“It’s like we’re going in fucking circles,” he muttered.

Suddenly, shouts erupted from the back of the group.

Before you could react, colorful figures burst from the treeline, their bodies covered in intricate tribal markings.

Chaos erupted as the four men fought back, but they were outnumbered. You ducked behind a tree as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Retreat!” Toji shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of clashing steel. “We need to get back to the ship!”

When you went to turn around, there was no clear path back.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the attackers vanished into the jungle.

“Nice job, Satoru were trapped,” Getou drawled.

“We’re not trapped,” Gojou snapped before turning to you. “Give me the map.”

In the thick of the fight, Gojou had dropped the map, and you managed to pick it up before anyone from the opposing side could. Your hands trembled as you pulled the map from your bag. Gojou snatched it from you before unfolding the faded parchment.

But when he went to read the map, it had changed. 

Where there had once been clear markings were now a mess of lines and symbols that made no sense. The landmarks did not match what you had seen on the island.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Gojou muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map. “It’s like the damn thing is cursed.”

“We will find a way back to the ship. And when we do, we’re leaving this godforsaken island. Treasure or not.”

The five of you spent hours trying to make your way through the jungle back to the beach, where you had made landfall. But every time you seemed like you were getting closer, the paths continued to change, leaving you all more lost than before.

“We’re going in circles,” Toji growled.

“We need to stop,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “We’re exhausted and not getting anywhere like this.”

For a moment, you thought he might snap at you, as he had multiple times before. Instead, he sighed, his shoulders slumping, as he folded the map and tucked it into his coat pocket. 

“Fine,” he muttered, “We’ll rest here for the night.”

You wasted no time helping the crew set up a makeshift camp. You found some palm leaves that could be used as a mat so you wouldn’t be sleeping on the cold, hard jungle ground because god knows what is in this place.

You sat near the edge of the camp with your back against a tree as you stared into the flickering firelight. Your mind drifted back to Gojou and how he consistently spoke to you throughout your journey. Even on the night of the Merchant’s ball, he had never looked at you this way, although he did seem conflicted, and you could see it in his eyes.

It didn’t make any sense.

Yes, Gojou was infuriating, arrogant, and impossible to read. But something about him made your heart race and your thoughts spiral out of control. It didn’t help that he was extremely attractive, either. But you refused to let yourself fall for him, not after how he had treated you and what he had done.

You decided that it was time for you to at least try and get some rest before dealing with more of his bullshit. By the time the first light of dawn broke through the canopy, most of the crew was up and about. Gojou decided that you had all stayed in the same place for too long and needed to get moving. However, whenever you seemed to be going in the right direction, the dense foliage would twist and shift, obscuring your path.

Toji led the group since he had a machete that could slice through the undergrowth. Gojou stood behind you in case the attackers returned and decided to ambush your group from behind.

“What the hell is wrong with this place?” Toji growled.

“I did tell you it had a reputation. Locals say it’s cursed. People who come here usually never leave.” Gojou said.

Usually?!

“You believe that superstitious nonsense?” Nanami chimed in.

“It’s not nonsense, you ass. We’ve been walking in circles for hours. This place is messed up.”

“Enough. Keep moving,” Gojou ordered. “We’ll find a way out. There’s always a way out.” 

The thick canopy above blocked out most of the sunlight, causing permanent twilight during the day. It was easy to lose track of time. The hours seemed to blur together, and exhaustion began to show. 

“Maybe we should turn back? We’re not getting anywhere like this.”

Gojou shot you a look full of irritation. “Why would we turn back? We aren’t turning back until we find what we came for.”

But wasn’t he just saying it was okay if we didn’t find any treasure?

You decided to stay silent, not wanting to piss Gojou off any further. 

“This damn map,” he muttered under his breath.

You approached him, looking over his shoulder to scan the map. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s like the island keeps changing, and the map doesn’t match.”

Toji, watching the exchange, sheathed his machete and stepped closer. “Look, Gojou, she’s right. We’re not getting anywhere. This place is like a maze, and we need to come up with a new plan.”

For a moment, Gojou looked like he was going to argue. But then he let out a sharp breath before folding the map and tucking it back into his coat. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll take a break, regroup, and figure out what the hell is going on.”

You all let out a collective sigh of relief as you set up a temporary camp. It wasn’t much, but it gave you all a chance to catch your breath and tend to any scrapes or wounds. You sat on a fallen log, wiping the sweat from your brow. Your eyes drifted to Gojou, who stood a few feet away, staring into the jungle with a frown. He hadn’t said much since he decided to stop, and you could tell that your current situation was finally catching up with him.

You approached him cautiously, your voice soft as you spoke. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. This place is just… pissing me off.”

“It’s like the island doesn’t want us to leave.”

Gojou didn’t respond immediately, but he continued to reassure you that you would be able to make it out.

As the sun began to set, the jungle seemed to be alive. The sounds of the day gave way to something darker. You all huddled closer to the fire you had built. The flames illuminated your faces. No one spoke, not even Captain Gojou. 

You decided to once again try to get Gojou to get you to keep moving. “We need to keep moving. We can’t stay here.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But we’re not moving in the dark. This place is bad enough during the day.”

You couldn't argue with that. This place felt like a death trap, and the thought of venturing back out into the jungle made you more than uncomfortable. But staying here wasn’t much better.

You glanced at Gojou, wondering what he was thinking. His face was hard to read, but you could see the way his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for whatever the night would bring.

But nothing ever came.

This is the third day you have been stuck on the island. The path the group had been following had disappeared. Every turn leads to a dead end or tangled vines. The thick canopy overhead barely lets any sunlight in. It casts strange shadows that play tricks on the mind.

“Dammit,” Gojou muttered as he hacked away a particularly stubborn branch with his sword.

You kept your distance from him, knowing how irritated he was now, considering that you had been on this island for longer than he wanted. Your conversations had long since died down since each of you was focused on your survival. Getou had been having a reaction to mosquito bites recently, which had significantly slowed the group down. You were sweaty and dirty and desperately wanted a bath. The muscles in your legs screamed in protest, but you pushed forward, determined not to hold the group back.

A sudden noise caught everyone’s attention. Before anyone could react, something shot out of the underbrush. Panic erupted as more figures emerged from the jungle. They had necklaces made of bones around their necks and clothing made out of what you hoped was animal hide. 

You heard Gojou shout something out before grabbing your arm and running in the opposite direction, away from the chaos. You noticed there was blood smeared on his sleeve and his sword drawn. You came to a stop, and he ordered you to stay close to him, not even sparing you a second glance before he turned his back and started walking. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, too exhausted and too shaken to argue with him. Following him was your only option, and judging by his demeanor, you could see that he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be stuck with you.

As the two of you walked, neither of you spoke. The only sounds that could be heard were the crunch of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

He didn’t stop walking, nor did he slow down. “No.”

“So we’re just wandering then?”

“You got a better idea?”

You didn’t bother responding. It wasn’t worth it. The ache in your legs had become unbearable, and it took more effort than you would have liked. But the last thing you were going to do was complain to him and have him think you’re weak. He already seemed to look down on you, and you didn’t think you could take any more of it.

“Why are you always like this?”

He stopped so suddenly that you almost ran into him.

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me. I’ve done nothing but try to help you and your crew. And all you do is push me away like I’m some… some nuisance.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his icy blue eyes studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. With a scoff, he turned away again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it to me. Tell me why you treat me like I’m nothing. Tell me why you act like—”

“Because it’s easier. It’s easier if I don’t care. If I don’t let myself...”

“Let’s go,” he muttered, turning away from you again. “We don’t have time for this.”

But you weren’t ready to let it go. “You don’t have to be like this.”

He didn’t respond and instead began walking again as you followed in silence. The jungle grew darker as the sun began to set, and the path became even harder to navigate. You stumbled over roots and rocks, your exhaustion making it difficult to keep up with Gojou.

After walking a little while, the two of you came across a small stream. Gojou knelt down by the water's edge, splashing some onto his face before drinking deeply. You followed his lead, kneeling beside his and cupping your hands to bring the cool water to your lips.

Then, without looking at you, Gojou spoke. “You should have stayed on the ship.” 

His words caught you off guard, and you looked at him in surprise. “What?” 

“You shouldn’t have come. You don’t belong here.” 

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? You told me to come! I thought I was helping.”

“It was a mistake. You’re just making things harder.”

Instead of arguing or defending yourself, you simply nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“We should keep moving.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Your heart was heavy as you followed him through the dense jungle. The canopy above filtered the light into beams that cast shadows across the jungle floor, but you felt none of their promised warmth. Gojou strode ahead of you; you hadn’t spoken in hours and didn’t dare break the silence. Your feet ached with each step, the rough terrain taking its toll on your body, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

He suddenly stopped, its abruptness making you stumble. “We’re losing daylight,” he said flatly before turning his back to you once more. “Keep up.”

You swallowed hard before nodding. Words sat heavy on our tongue—words you wanted to shout, to throw at him in anger and frustration—but you bit them back. What good would they do? He had made it perfectly clear where you stood with him.

As you continued to walk, you noticed you were beginning to struggle even more than before. In an instant, your foot caught on a root, and before you could even let out a gasp, you were falling. The world spun, and pain shot through your ankle as you hit the earth. You bit back a cry, the sharp sting making its way up your leg. 

Gojou stopped again. This time, he glanced over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

“Get up.” Get up? What the fuck? He didn’t move to help you and didn’t even offer you a hand. It was as if he expected you to pick yourself up, just like you always did.

You clenched your teeth. The pain was unbearable. Slowly, you managed to push yourself up, wincing as you put weight on your injured leg. It was clear that you couldn’t walk properly, but Gojou had already turned his back on you. Again.

For a moment, you just stood there. Your chest heaved in an effort to hold back you emotions. How many times would you have to prove your worth to him? How many times would he let you fall only to leave you behind without so much as a glance?

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to move. You limped after him with every step, sending a fresh wave of pain through your ankle, but you kept going. You had to. Not because he asked you to—but because you refused to be left behind.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of running water that you realized the jungle was thinning out. Gojou was stopped a few feet in front of you with his gaze fixed on something in the distance. When you caught up, you saw what had gotten his attention—a river that cut through the dense forest.

“We need to find a way across. The island won't wait for us to figure it out.”

You nodded, though the pain in your ankle made the mere thought of crossing a river seem impossible, but you knew it was better not to voice your concerns. He wouldn't care. He never did. Not really.

The riverbank was rocky and uneven, and you found yourself trailing behind Gojou as he scouted ahead. You tried to mask the limp in your step, but he noticed. Of course, he did.

“You’re slowing us down. If you can't keep up, I’ll have to leave you behind.”

Of course. You expected no less from a heartless man like him.

“I can manage,” you replied quietly.

The two of you finally made it across the river, not without some trouble due to your injury. When you looked up, you could see the evening sky as it bled into soft shades of violet and indigo. The island’s edge was near, and you could hear the faint sounds of waves and the smell of salty seawater.

“We need to get off this island before night falls.” He started toward the beach without waiting for you, making it hard to keep up with his long strides. You followed him, limping slightly as you looked for any way to escape the island. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a small, weathered boat hidden behind a stack of driftwood. It looked old, and it probably couldn’t even float without sinking. But it was better than nothing.

“We can use that,” you called after Gojou. “But the oars…”

Gojou glanced at the boat before glancing back at you. “We don’t have a choice. We’ll figure it out.”

Without another word, he made his way over to the boat and began inspecting the vessel, running his hands over the worn wood to assess its condition. You stood back, watching him work. You limped over to the boat and knelt beside one of the broken oars, running your fingers along the jagged edge. “We could try to fix this,” you offered, unsure if he would even listen.

Gojou glanced up at you, and you thought he might snap at you. But surprisingly, he nodded.

“Do what you can,” he said before turning back to the boat.

With whatever scraps of driftwood and vines you could find, you began the makeshift repairs on the oars. The pain in your ankle throbbed with each movement, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and when you finally managed to piece together something that resembled an oar, the sky was now a deep purple. It wasn’t pretty, but it would have to do.

“I think this will work,” you said, holding it up for Gojou to see.

He turned to inspect your handiwork, his eyes glancing over the makeshift oar. A small grunt of approval escaped his lips, and without saying another word, he began pushing the boat toward the water. You moved to help him despite the sharp pain in your leg. Together, the two of you heaved the boat into the shallows as the cold water lapped at your ankles. Gojou climbed in first before holding his hand out to you. It was the first time he had offered his help on your journey.

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and climbing into the boat. The oar you had repaired was far from perfect, but somehow, Gojou managed to guide the small vessel through the gentle waves. The island slowly began to fade from view, being swallowed by the darkness. You sat opposite him with your legs tucked beneath you. 

The small boat rocked gently as you neared the ship that could be seen on the horizon. Its lanterns on board had guided the both of you back, and for that, you were eternally grateful. Relief had washed over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the pain in your ankle, which you had somehow almost forgotten about. 

Gojou continued to silently row the small boat toward the ship, his gaze fixed ahead. As you neared the ship, you could make out figures on the deck. It seemed like Nanami, Getou, and Toji had made it back safely, just as Gojou had predicted a few days ago. 

Yuuji and Ino quickly made work of pulling the small rowboat onto the side of the ship so you and Gojou could board once more. But the moment you tried to move, the pain flared up again, causing you to wince. You bit back a groan because you were unwilling to show weakness, especially in front of Gojou.

The boat bumped softly against the side of the ship, and without a word, he stood and glanced down at you, his eyes narrowed as he took in your obvious discomfort. You knew what was coming before he even moved, but that didn’t stop the jolt of surprise when he bent down and scooped you up in one swift motion, cradling you against his chest.

“W-what are you—”

“Can’t have you limping around the deck like a wounded animal. Besides, you can’t fix your ankle if you can’t even stand.”

Jesus Christ, this man is hot and cold. Can he please make up his mind?

Your protests fell flat as you realized how futile they were. He carried you through the deck of the ship, heading straight for his quarters. The door to his cabin creaked open, and Gojou carried you inside. He gently lowered you onto his bed.

“Stay here. I’ll get Shokou.”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out a slow breath, the tension in your body easing slightly now that you were alone. Your ankle still hurt, but at least you were off of it.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open again, and Shokou stepped inside. She carried a small medical kit with her. There was a hint of amusement in her expression as she glanced at you on the bed.

“Well, well, look who’s in need of some help,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I figured Gojou was being dramatic when he said you broke your ankle. Guess I owe him an apology.”

You forced a weak smile, wincing as you shifted slightly on the bed. “It’s not as bad as it looks… maybe.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me take a look.”

She knelt beside the bed and gently began to examine your ankle. It was swollen and bruised from all the walking you did on it. Her touch was light, but it didn’t stop the pain as she assessed the damage. You sucked in a sharp breath, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from making any noise.

“Hate to break it to you,” Shokou said after a moment, “but it’s definitely broken. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse, though. A little rest, and you’ll be good as new.”

She kept up a light conversation as she worked on bandaging your ankle. She carefully wrapped it before turning her attention to a small vial she pulled from her kit. “This should help with the pain,” she said, offering you a dose. “Drink up.”

You accepted the vial with a quiet nod. The liquid was bitter, but the relief that followed was almost immediate. The pain dulled to a more manageable state. 

Is this shit magic?

As Shokou finished up, Gojou reappeared in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame. His cerulean eyes flicked over to your bandaged ankle before settling on Shokou. “How bad?”

“Not bad enough to keep her out of trouble for long,” Shokou replied with a smirk, standing up and dusting off her hands. “She’ll be fine, but she needs to stay off it for a few days.”

“You heard her. No more running around.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you muttered.

Shokou began to pack up her kit, and before turning to leave, she gave you a quick pat on the shoulder. “I’ll check on you later,” she said, flashing you one last smile before disappearing out the door.

With it just being you and Gojou, the two of you fell into an uncomfortable silence. Gojou lingered for a moment before he pushed off the doorframe and approached the bed. 

“You did good back there,” he grumbled.

“Thanks… I guess.”

Without another word, Gojou turned back to the door. “Get some rest,” he called over his shoulder before stepping out, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

Not long after Gojou left, you sat in silence. Your ankle lightly throbbed, though Shokou’s treatment had eased some of the pain. The ache that lingered in your chest was another matter entirely. You hated everything about this ship, the adults on this ship, and most of all, Captain Gojou. All of them seemed to be pushing you towards a breaking point.

The door creaked open again, and you glanced up, expecting Shokou to check up on you. Unfortunately, it was Gojou. He glanced over at you briefly before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Are we going anywhere near Elysport?” you blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the question. "Why?"

"Because I need to know. I need to know when I can leave this fucking ship."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I hate it here. I hate this ship, the way everyone looks at me, and I especially hate the way you’ve been treating me like I’m nothing more than a problem."

"I’m treating you like a problem?"

"Yes!" you snapped, pushing yourself up. "You’ve been an asshole from the start. You act like I’m just some burden you’re forced to carry, and I’m sick of it."

The way I treat you is because I’m keeping you alive. This isn’t some fucking pleasure cruise. You’re out of your depth, and I don’t have the luxury to babysit you."

"I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojou!" you shot back. "I need you to stop treating me like I’m invisible. You drag me along on this ship, ignore me, and then throw me a few scraps of attention when it suits you. I’m tired of it!"

"You think I’ve been ignoring you? I’m trying to protect you, even if you don’t see it. The less attention you get from the wrong people, the better. And if I have to push you away to do that, I will."

"I don’t need your protection, Gojou. I’m not some fragile doll who’s going to break at the first sign of danger."

"You have no idea what you’re talking about. This world we’re in—it’s cutthroat. People die. You’ve already seen that. And if you think leaving this ship is going to solve your problems, you’re dead wrong.”

"I don’t care!" you spat. "I want off this ship. I’ll take my chances out there. I’d rather deal with the dangers of the world on my own than be stuck here, treated like I don’t matter."

"You really think you’ll be safer anywhere else? That if you leave, everything will magically be fine?"

"I don’t care if it’s safer. I just want out. I can’t stand being here with you anymore, with the way you’ve been acting."

“I act this way because I have to. This world isn’t for someone like you.”

“The world is this way because of people like you! Maybe my father was right about pirates, considering people like you were the ones who killed her,” you spat. "Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know what I can handle, and I don’t need you making that choice for me. If we get near Elysport, I’m leaving."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "We’ll talk about this later,” he said before turning to the door.

“Damn him.”

You didn’t care what Gojou thought or what he claimed. You were done with being treated like you were a piece of cargo who he could just push around whenever he felt like it. Besides, you could check up on how your father was doing if you went back to Elysport. Before leaving, you never spoke to your father much, except for the occasional holiday or whenever he was in the right mind to chat. You thought about how panicked he must be, knowing his only daughter was missing. Did he pray to God to bring you home the same he did all those years ago? You wondered if he was spiraling like he did after your mother’s death or if he was holding it together. You wondered if he was hoping his little girl's body would wash up on shore just as his wife’s did fourteen years ago. The two of you may have been distant in the last few years, but he was your father, and you loved him. You were a daddy’s girl through and through.

You wanted to go home.

“Sweetheart, you got lucky. We’re going to a place close enough to Elysport for you to take a carriage.” 

You looked up from the book you were reading to see Gojou standing in the doorway. You were sitting on Gojou’s bed reading one of his books with your ankle propped up on a pillow. You were surprised to hear that they were going in that general direction, considering their constant need to be in danger. Plus, you were surprised to hear that he was even letting you leave with his atrocious behavior.

“Oh, really? I’m surprised you’re even letting me off this ship,” you breathed. 

“I had a discussion with the rest of the crew, and they decided it would be best for you to leave if you truly want to. Yuuji was pretty opposed to the idea. The kid likes talking to you.”

“Well, that makes everyone else infinitely more likable than you. Oh, and also, you can keep the map; I don’t want it. It’s caused me enough trouble as it is, seeing I’m here with you.”

“Can you not be bratty for five minutes?”

“Can you not be an asshole for five minutes?”

“You should behave more like how you did on the island, submissive and silent. I liked you better then.” he spat. “Be more grateful we’re going anywhere near Elysport since we need a restock on supplies. For some reason, more supplies have been going missing even though you don’t even eat much or use much of it.”

It had been a few days since your accident, and your ankle was healing quite nicely. You could finally walk on it just in time to make it to Hinsoll Port, a port neighboring Elysport. For some reason, Gojou let you stay in his room, which you will admit was pretty nice of him. When you slept, he would sleep on his chair, and to be honest, it made you feel bad because of how uncomfortable it looked.

The day you got to the port, you stood at the edge of the dock as the wind tousled your hair. And for the first time in days, you finally felt free. You had been dropped off by Gojou while his ship was being restocked, and Yuuji was quite sad to see you go, so maybe he wasn’t lying about that. You had packed the little amount of stuff you had brought along with you and began walking down the dock. Regretfully, you decided to turn around, and low and behold, Gojou was leaning on the ship, watching you leave. He didn’t come to say goodbye as the rest of the crew had, and you just chalked it up to him being a self-righteous asshole.

Gojou had made it clear. We’re not going directly to Elysport, but close enough for you to take a carriage. You felt a pang of regret as you walked down the dock, as you were leaving behind a life you had known for only a month. Had it really been that long? You thought back to when Gojou had said sorry for once the night he had called you a whore and had carried you to a hotel so the two of you wouldn’t have to walk back. But that was before you had started this whole treasure hunt, and the last “hunt was disastrous. Even so, didn’t they need part of that for said treasure, and they don’t have it? Oh well, it’s not your problem anymore.

You made your way to the carriage station, and soon enough, you were tucked inside as the wooden wheels creaked beneath you. Your fingers played with the fabric of your skirts while the sound of hooves against dirt calmed your nerves.

When the late afternoon hit, you could see the streets of Elysport as the carriage came to a halt in front of your father’s house. The moment your foot hit the ground, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. The city port smelled exactly the same as it had the day you left. It was kind of like an old friend pulling you into a warm embrace.

You hesitated for a moment while standing at the wooden door of your childhood home. It was a modest home ticked away on a quiet street. You used to take care of your father’s garden every once in a while, but it had since grown a bit wild in your absence. Your heart pounded in your chest as you raised your hand to knock on the door, unsure of how he would react to seeing you after being gone for a month.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Your father stood in the doorway, his face haint and his eyes sunken in. But the moment he saw you, his expression shifted into shock, disbelief, and finally, joy.

His arms were around you before you could say a word. “Thank God,” he whispered as he buried his face in your hair. “Thank God for bringing my little girl home.” You melted into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears that had slipped down your cheeks. “I prayed every night for you, hoping you'd come back to me.”

“I’m here now. I’m home.”

Your father just held you, and it was as if he was afraid that if he were to let go, you would disappear again. Eventually, he stepped back, his eyes glazed over, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Could you do me a favor, darling? The market’s still open. Would you pick me up some herbs? I was thinking of making a stew tonight since you came home.”

You nodded quickly, eager to please and eager to slip back into a normal routine. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

The marketplace was just as lively as you remembered. The sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, along with baked goods and roast meats. As you made your way through the crowd, picking up the herbs your father had requested, you caught sight of an unfamiliar figure at the edge of the market. He stood out like a sore thumb—leaning casually against a stall. His pink hair stood out against the drab green and browns of the market, but it was the tattoos curling along his face that truly set him apart.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

You were startled by the sudden appearance of the man with pink hair. You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. “We’ve heard about you. A traveler, are you not? Someone who’s seen more than they probably should.”

You blinked, confusion flooding your mind. “I—no, I’m just—”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t looking for something. We all are.”

“I’m just here for my father,” you said, your voice coming out smaller than you intended.

"Of course you are. But that doesn’t mean you have to leave empty-handed.”

 “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say,” Sukuna said, his grin widening, “we have an offer you can’t refuse. One that doesn’t involve treasure. All you need to do is listen.”

“What is this offer?”

“You know,” he began. “I thought I’d made it simple. Put up the wanted signs, sit back, and wait for you to be brought to me, along with the map.”

So that’s what he wants.

“I don’t have the map.”

Then, with a disappointed sigh, he stepped closer. “What a shame,” he murmured.“I was hoping you’d make things easier for me.”

“I told you, I don’t have it.”

“She’s telling the truth, you know. No point in lying about something like this.” This voice was a different one. It came from a small woman with white hair and an irregular line of dark plum pink running across the back of their head. 

 “Pity. Because if you did have it, we might’ve come to some sort of... understanding.”

“Funny thing, though. I hear that Captain Gojou, your kind-hearted protector, might’ve had something to do with your mother’s... untimely end.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just rumors. But if you’re curious—really curious—you could always find out for yourself. All it would take is a little favor. Get us that map from Gojou, and we’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“I... I don’t know.”

Captain Gojou was crazy, but he wasn’t that crazy.

“Well, take your time. But don’t take too long. You wouldn’t want the truth slipping through your fingers, now would you?”

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered, trying to buy yourself some time.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purred, his grin widening. “We’ll be waiting.”

You returned home clutching the herbs your father requested. The sky had darkened as the last rays of daylight turned into twilight. Your father sat in his chair by the window, the evening light casting shadows across his face.

“Got what you asked for,”  you said quietly, setting the herbs down on the table.

He gave you a small nod, but his gaze lingered on you longer than usual. He could sense something was wrong since he had always been able to read you like an open book.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked gently, leaning forward with concern etched into his features.

You hesitated, unsure of how to begin. “Dad,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I told you... I could find out who killed Mom?”

The words hung in the air between the two of you, and for a moment, there was only silence. “What are you talking about?”

“I... I ran into someone at the market today. They said they knew... who might be behind it. But they need a favor.”

Your father’s brows furrowed. “Who are these people? What favor?”

“They want something from Captain Gojou. They want me to... get it for them. In exchange, they’ll tell me what happened to Mom.”

“And you believe them?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if there’s even a chance... don’t you want to know the truth?”

His jaw tightened, and you thought he might refuse. But then, he sighed heavily, the years of pain and grief evident in the lines of his face. “I’ve spent fourteen years wondering who took her from us,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “If there’s a chance, even a small one, to finally get justice… then you do it. Find out who killed her.”

“You... you’re okay with me going back?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment. Whoever killed your mother... I’ll see to it they pay.”

The sky was pitch black by the time you slipped into bed. You thought back to the conversation with your father. Although you had made your decision, it wasn’t any less scary. Your heart pounded in your chest as you lay in your childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.

That’s when you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside your window. You sat up and looked towards the window, but you saw nothing, so you decided to ignore it, thinking it was a drunk passerby trying to get home. All of a sudden, you heard a knock at the window, and you saw a figure standing there. Before you could react, your small window was yanked open.

Of fucking course he’s here.

Gojou stood in the window frame, his white hair almost glowing in the dim moonlight.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

He hopped inside before closing the window behind him.  “I told you it was dangerous to be here. And yet, here you are.”

“I’m with my father, Gojou. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You think you’re safe because you’re in your childhood home?” His voice was laced with irritation. “Do you have any idea who’s been hanging around this town?”

Your stomach dropped. He knew about the strange man down by the marketplace. Though you never managed to catch his name.

“I... I can handle myself.”

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’ve been telling me since day one,” you muttered.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. And maybe I don’t. But I do know one thing—you’ve been lying to me.”

“What in God's name are you talking about?”

“I know you had something to do with my mother’s death,” you blurted out, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. 

“Your… mother?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Listen, sweetheart, I haven’t had anything to do with your mother’s death, so don’t get too excited. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. Who told you this information? Was it the man with pink hair you met in the market?”

“It’s none of your business. And since when have you cared who I meet? Last I checked, you could have given two shits about me?”

You were now weary of the information the strange man had given you. And doing the math, he would have only been eighteen years old at the time of your mother’s death. But still, the thought lingered in your mind.

“I should’ve known you’d get involved in something this stupid,” he muttered.

“Take me back.” 

Gojou’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Take me back to your crew. Let me come with you. I need to see this through.”

“You want to come back after everything? You just left like yesterday.”

“Yes. I can’t stay here. Not when there are so many questions. Maybe the treasure can help me find out the truth about my mother.”

Lies.

“Are you sure you’re not going to force me to take you back the moment something shitty happens?”

“No, you ass, my father asked me to find out what happened to her.”

“Fine. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you out of my sight.”

“Why would that be.”

“Because you have been talking to strange men, Y/N. I’m not stupid,” he sighed. “Be ready by dawn,” he muttered as he walked back over to the window. “We leave as soon as the tide is in.”

Satoru felt guilty. He felt guilty about his lack of self-control, guilty that he managed to drive the one person who seemed to care away. Guilty about the fact he might hurt you.

Satoru didn’t know why he behaved this way. It’s not that he wanted to behave this way towards you, but that's how it was. He didn't know why he felt inclined to treat you the way he did, and he kept telling himself that this was normal behavior. He didn’t want to admit it, but he really liked the kiss the two of you shared in the hotel room, and he wished to have more of them. But there was something that seemed to stop the two of you from seeing eye to eye, and it was that map.

But there was one more thing Satoru felt guilty about. And that was his dream about you. 

Satoru didn’t remember exactly how it started, but all he knew was that you were the last person supposed to be there. 

You looked the same as you did a few nights ago, but instead of being in your heavy skirts, you were in a sheer nightgown. You were lying down on his bed facing away from him, and from where he was standing, he could see the outline of your supple breasts and the gentle curve of your waist.

“Sweetheart?” he murmured as he walked closer to where you were lying. As he got closer, he could hear the soft sounds of your cries, and he noticed your shoulders were shaking. He sat down on his bed and put his hand on your shoulder to give you some kind of comfort. Something he couldn’t do to the real you.

“Why do you always hurt me? I’ve done nothing but help you,” you sniffed.

Satisfaction.

Satoru felt a deep satisfaction because you were crying over him.

He shouldn’t have felt that way, but seeing your tears made him feel like he was in control. Just how he liked it. You turned around to face him, and he could see your teary-eyed expression in the candlelight. It made him happy that you suffered all because you liked him.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” he murmured as he stroked your tear-stained cheek.

The dream version of you stared up at him, seemingly analyzing every detail of him with your glossy eyes. You watched as Gojou took off his boots and made his way up his bed to rest his back against the headboard. He gripped your waist and lifted you from where you were sitting to sit on his lap.

“What are you doing in my chambers sitting half-naked and crying, sweetheart?”

“My best wasn’t as comfortable as yours,” you shrugged, ignoring the crying and half-naked part.

“Your bed wasn’t as comfortable as mine? Well, we can’t have that, can we, baby?”

You shook your head, docile like a rabbit. 

As soon as you sat in his lap, you immediately connected your lips with a soft gesture as he tasted the salt from your tears.

Gojou kissed you passionately as his large hand caressed your face, moving down from your cheeks to your collarbones and back, and finally, his hands rested on your backside. You sighed, leaning into the kiss, desperate to feel the warmth of his body, feeling the familiar heat pool in his belly.

“What do you want me to do, Sweetheart,” Gojou asked, breaking the kiss.

You were silent for a moment before responding, “I want you to fuck me.”

He groaned at your response and flipped the two of you over so that he was on top. You could feel his weight as he ground his hips against the flimsy piece of underwear you wore. You could feel his hardening cock rubbing against your clothed pussy and your inner thigh. He wanted to rip that sheer nightgown off your body and bury his head between your thighs, wondering how you would taste.

“I wanna feel your cock inside me. Please?” you moaned out.

You looked so pretty, so beautiful beneath him. Gojou sat up and made work untying his linen shirt and ridding himself of his breeches, which were practically useless by this point. You helped him untie his top, seemingly eager to be closer to him. When he managed to undo the last string, he pulled down his shorts, revealing his cock that slapped against his stomach.

Fuck he’s so hard, and he’s only dreaming.

There was only one problem: you still had your clothes on, or what could be considered clothes, considering it left nothing to the imagination. Gojou began dragging his fingers along the arousal-soaked underwear you wore. You shuddered when he slipped his hand inside your underwear, gliding his fingers through your soaked folds, almost dipping inside your hole but going back to your clit.

A small moan escaped you, and Gojou decided he wanted to see more, even if it was just a dream. He removed his hand from your underwear, hooked it onto the bands, and muttered, "Lift your hips" to you before removing your underwear. You closed your legs, embarrassed of the mess between your thighs and how wet you were for a man who made you cry and treated you like you were nothing. He pried your legs apart and was greeted by a small patch of hair, and he could see your hole clenching, desperate to be filled.

“Why are you so shy, hm?” He breathed. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Gojou focused his attention back on your neck, feathering soft kisses around the skin before moving to your breasts, lowering the straps of your thin chemise. You were arching your back as he descended further in further until he was face to face with your sopping cunt. He was quick to begin lapping at the entrance with his tongue until you were quietly moaning his name. “S-Satoru!”

It was like music to his ears and Satoru thought he could stay in this dream forever. 

“You taste so sweet, sweetheart. I could stay here forever,” he murmured, circling your sensitive bud before looking back at your slit, slightly spreading them apart to look at the mess you made. Satoru took one last look before grabbing his erect manhood and lining it up with your core, sliding his tip against your core to gather some of your arousal before sliding himself in. But before he could do anything his dream started becoming blurry and soon enough, he realized he was going to wake up.

All of a sudden, the world around him began to grow fuzzy, like a painting that was smeared by careless hands. Satoru blinked, trying to clear his vision, but it was ultimately useless. The edges of everything became clearer, and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a cold sweat on his bed in his captain’s chambers.

Satoru clenched his jaw, shaking his head to try and rid the images of his indecent dream. It was just a dream. Though his mind kept drifting back to the way your lips had lingered on his, and the heat of your body that was pressed against his in ways that felt all too real. It that dream he could touch you without restraint, kiss you without hesitation, and indulge in the desire he fought so hard to ignore.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. The frustration was mounting, but there was something else. A wet patch on his breeches. He glanced down and a wave of embarrassment swept over him, realizing how deep his dream had sunk his claws into him.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push down the storm of emotions, but it was no use. Even here in the safety of his chambers, he couldn’t escape you.

Satoru stared out the small window of his quarters, the moonlight coming through the window, spilling in like silver threads. Why you? Why now? Of all the things haunting his subconscious, why was it you that left him so unhinged?

He needed control—over himself and his thoughts, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to let you go.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

cursed seas taglist: @jaegersity @moonlightlexie @avyshi @sukunadckrider @v4mpieres @arabelluhhh4200

note: if you asked to be added to the taglist and i cannot tag you please turn on your tags :)

taglist status: open

[mistysconcilium]

a scary movie

day 2 of seven days of halloween .ᐟ 👻

paring - alive!tate langdon x reader

synopsis - you go to the movies to watch a scary movie with tate

tags - drabble • fluff • maybe ooc tate • mention of characters in movie getting killed • english is not my first language

୨୧ note - i really enjoyed writing and editing this so i hope you will like it too !! this is my first tate fic so if he is ooc i apologize. hope you enjoy . ᐟ

“Do you want to share one large popcorn or should we have like two mediums for ourselves?”

“We could share one,” Tate replied while he put all the candy he had gathered on the counter in front of the cashier.

“Okay, so one large popcorn and these candy’s” the cashier at the movie theatre recounted, “What do you guys want to drink?”

“A large coke please” Tate chimed in right behind you.

“Two large cokes” you said to the cashier.

She nodded. After you paid and got all your snacks you and Tate walked to the salon to try to find your seats.

“This our row I think and our seats should be..,” after taking another look at the tickets and looking at the seats numbers you finally found them; “right here!” you continued, turning around and smiling at Tate behind you who were carrying all of your snacks in both his arms.

When you both had sat down Tate handed you your part of the candy and your drink, but he kept your shared popcorn bucket in between his thighs.

The commercials started and during a weird one you looked over at Tate to whisper a joke about it in his ear but when you looked over you saw something shocking!

Tate had already eaten like a fourth of the popcorn in the bucket! Only a few minutes into the commercials and he had eaten that much? You quickly grabbed the bucket from him.

”Hey, what are you doing?” he reaches out to grab some more popcorn but you smack his hand away.

”You've already eaten a lot” you glare at him trying to look mad.

Tate just laughs at your attempt to look mad. “Shhhh” you put your hand over his mouth to quiet him down “the movie‘s starting” you add in a whisper.

The movie was just some random badly made horror movie. You couldn’t even remember the name of it. You and Tate had just decided to watch it to get in a halloween mood since it was October.

The movie barely had a plot, just some excessive bad gore and a weird looking supernatural killer. But regardless you still got scared at one point.

“AH” some popcorn fell from the bucket in your lap onto the floor because of your reaction to the jumpscare on screen.

You could hear Tate chuckling at your reaction. “You are also going to get scared at one point y’know” you whispered to him. “I live in the murder house” he responded mockingly, “I’m not gonna get scared by a stupid movie”

The movie continued. Several people got killed on screen. You could tell the movie makers wanted to make it look scary and terrifying but it just ended up being funny. Right before the end of the movie, during a jumpscare, you notice someone slightly jumping in their chair from the corner of your eye. Tate had gotten scared? Tate, who lives in the murder house, had gotten scared!

“You totally got scared at the end” you chuckled while holding Tate’s hand when you were walking out of the movie theater.

“I did not” Tate responded just looking straight ahead.

“Yes, you totally did!” you say in a lighthearted tone, “You just don’t wanna admit it because you want to be all cool and cold-hearted” you laugh.

Tate didn’t respond, he just shaked his head trying to suppress a smile. You could tell you were right based on his reaction.

“Don’t worry I still think you are cool” You smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

love, elisabet <3

taglist (not everyone bc idk who likes tate); @fear-is-truth @d3adarling

reblogs and comments are always appreciated . ᐟ

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[radioisntdead]

Partner in crime

Alastor x gn! reader

Warnings: OOC, death, inaccurate portrayal of getting shot

Song used

You and Alastor had known each other for years, you were close childhood friends at least you thought you were,

You remember your mothers calling the two of you a couple of peas in a pod, or partners in crime,

It was funny, who would've thought the two of you would actually become partners in crime.

Maybe if you didn't have an unhealthy codependency on Alastor you wouldn't had ended up like you did.

When you're gone I feel alone again

You scrubbed away at the floor, cleaning away any remnant of the blood that was spilled that evening, Alastor had gone to bury the remains of the poor man he had slaughtered.

The voices cannot hold my hand

You would lure them in, you were good at lulling others into a false sense of security,

They keep me company at very best

and he'd kill them when they least expected it, sometimes you felt guilty but Alastor would be quick to convince you that your guilt was unnecessary, that the people whose lives the two of you stole away deserved it.

Distract me from my loneliness

They did deserve it right?

Maybe I'm just an anomaly

You continued scrubbing the floor clean, but no matter how hard you scrubbed you could never wash away the fact that someone had died there

Even my demons have their families

You wondered how their families reacted to their loved ones death, were they mournful, were they joyful? Did they not care? Did they even notice?

Truly something must be wrong with me

Would anyone notice if you died? Besides Alastor you didn't have many friends, sure you were kinda friends with Mimzy but that was only because of Alastor, and your family, well, let's not talk about that.

You really didn't have anyone but Alastor, and you were alright with that, if you had Alastor the rest of the world could burn for all you cared.

To need you as much as I do

You heard the door open, you hurriedly dropped the towel into the bucket of now cold water, grabbing another rag you wiped away the remaining liquid.

I was never meant to win

You smiled up at Alastor from the ground.

I was never meant to win

"Welcome back Alastor!"

I was never meant to win

Codependency is truly more harmful then people give it credit for.

You'd sacrifice anything, anyone just to remain by Alastor's side, just to see him smile which he did often.

Here's the reigns

You had done this who knows how many times,

Take ahold of me

Lure them in, hand over to Alastor and then clean up the aftermath while he hid the corpse.

Please don't let me go

You didn't change the routine by much, there wasn't much of a mess this time so Alastor asked that you tag along with him this time.

You do the talking

You held the lantern lighting his area as he dug a deep grave, wouldn't want the body resurfacing anytime soon right?

Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

You whispered something to him before he climbed out of the hallow grave getting ready to put the poor soul he had mercilessly killed in it.

There's a dog barking right around the block

He had just gotten done burying the corpse, you were sat comfortably on the ground with the lantern in your lap, he reached out his hand to help you up.

You both froze when you heard the unmistakeable sound of dogs barking.

And a big ol' whistle blow

Alastor looked at you and you looked back at him, you quickly took his hand to pull yourself up, lantern in your free hand.

Run for it

The two of you ran, you could faintly hear the leaves crunching underneath your feet, the cold night wind stinging your face.

I'll keep em occupied for you

The barking got louder, and you tripped over a tree root, lantern falling onto the grass the candle inside falling just at the right angle to extinguish leaving you in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars above.

Alastor kept running, did he know you fell? He wouldn't abandon you right?

Cause I love you, I love you so

You got up, not bothering to dust yourself off you continued running, you couldn't see Alastor.

Left me hangin at the station

You heard shouting.

Where was Alastor? Did he notice you were missing yet?

But you'll be back for me soon

You saw a glimpse of light.

I'm 'bout to die

You didn't even have time to make a noise as a gunshot was fired into your chest, you fell to the ground.

Where was Alastor? Did he get away? Or was he shot down like you were?

Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you

You shakily put a hand to the place where the bullet had just entered you, honestly it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would.

Something tells me you aren't coming

Your vision began to become blurry, was it the blood loss? You didn't think you'd die that quickly,

Would you get to see Alastor one last time?

Guess that I'm truly doomed

Alastor didn't notice you were gone did he? Or maybe he did? Did you really think a future cannibal, present serial killer like Alastor would come back for you? You were a liability.

I'm 'bout to die

It was funny, you knew what kind of person he was and you still held out hope that he wouldn't abandon you.

Yet the only thing I find I'm worried about is you

You still held out hope even as your blood covered the forest ground.

Tears swelled up in your eyes as you gazed up at the night sky,

You wondered if Alastor was looking up at the sky too, maybe he had gotten home already?

I'm 'bout to die

It was a good night to die, the last sight you'd see would be the star filled night sky.

Yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothing but you

Alastor let out a string of French words as he turned around to go fetch you, hoping that you weren't too far behind.

I overhear your brain when it's close to mine

Branches and leaves crunched under his shoes as he sped through the woods.

Oh, I know that we're not the same

Your hope that he'd come back for you was slowly dwindling, the voices from before had disappeared, maybe they had fled, maybe they didn't know what they did, or maybe they just didn't care.

My heart's on the line

Alastor stopped by a tree for a moment to catch his breath, the only source of light was the moon and stars above.

I'm just a pawn in your game

To Alastor you were a expendable friend.

Not your partner in crime

In all reality though, To Alastor you were everything, he'd go through hell and back if you asked, he'd take down the most ruthless of people if it'd make you smile.

And you're slowly killing me

You felt tired, you wanted to close your eyes but you fought to keep them open.

You didn't want to die.

Taking your time

Alastor continued running, soon enough he stumbled upon you.

You're slowly killing me, taking your time

With red soaked clothing you laid limp on the ground.

You're slowly killing me

"[Name]? Mon étoile?"

Taking your- I was never meant to win

You smiled as you heard Alastor's voice.

You're slowly killing me

You didn't know if you were imagining it or if he really came back for you,

Maybe it was a last act of comfort given to you before you died.

Taking your- I was never meant to win

Alastor leaned down beside you, he gently put a hand on your cheek.

You're slowly killing me

You smiled at him, just barely being able to mutter an "Alastor."

And yet I don't mind You were never meant to win

You couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

You're slowly killing me,

The last thing you saw was Alastor, and the last thing you heard was another gunshot.

But please take your time

At least the two of you would be reunited soon enough.

Good evening folks! Originally I was supposed to post the murder Valentino with JoJo Siwa playing in the background fic today but I hit a slump with the ending and plus I think may have eaten something unfortunate because I feel sick so uh, BACK TO BACK ANGST Y'ALL, ALASTOR TODAY, TV MAN TOMORROW!

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt6

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

(The other parts of this story are under the First BG3 Masterlist, or you can use the AO3 link to read it there)

This one is my problem child. I have no idea how to write for the other companions but I needed to have this as context for the companions learning about Tav's bg and yeah whatever I've got better stuff coming up. I am very very excited for future chapters >:)

Warnings: self-destructive coping mechanisms (scratching oneself), mentions of slavery, hints of a panic attack, mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of biting, possibly OOC companions

Word Count: 1,334

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Everyone eyed you warily. You didn’t blame them. After you scrubbed your hands raw of the blood staining them, you provided no explanation. You’d basically sped in, Astarion trailing behind, and ran for a bucket of water. And stayed there. For hours. After the fact, you changed out the water, of course, but they weren’t concerned as much with the pink-tinted water as they were with the frantic nature you scraped the natural dye from your hands.

Astarion didn’t say anything either. A few of them had tried asking, but he smiled tersely and made an excuse that changed each time. “I was too distracted fighting a beast.” “You know how some people get with germs.” “They really hate the color red.” (This one was not said to Karlach, nor in her earshot.) 

It all came to a head at dinner, when you’d still provided no explanation. Gale handed out servings silently, staring at you as though studying a new specimen. Lae’zel watched you like a predator trying to defend her territory, prepared for the moment the intruder stepped over the line. Shadowheart barely repressed her scowl.

Wyll set down his bowl pointedly. “Haven’t you kept your secrets hidden long enough?” You raise your eyes from your barely-touched stew. You didn’t quite see him. Your mind lingered on the image of the Gur. “Do you expect us to continue following blindly while we pour our souls out for you?”

You bristled. The image disappeared, tucked away to haunt you later. “No. No, I’m sorry.” You sighed and set your bowl aside. Everyone watched you expectantly, more interested in what you could say than filling their bellies. “It’s just… difficult to talk about.”

“Speak,” Lae’zel encourages roughly. “We will listen.”

Astarion frowns at you. He’s taken to sitting beside you for ‘dinner’. They knew by now he wasn’t suited to eating normal food, but he didn’t quite trust them not to stake him through the heart or cut his head off. It was safest to linger by your side. The irony of your trust in him was not lost on him: You understood him best and you feared him the most. That fear may have dampened over time, but you still flinched at the gleam of his fangs, watched him as he left camp to hunt at night. Yet you’d bared your soul to him and him alone. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

You inhale, slow and shaky. Your hands fiddle in your lap, providing you some sort of distraction. It would not be enough to ground you to reality should the thoughts become too potent.

“I was… am,” you corrected unsurely, “a vampire’s thrall. She… uses me as a blood source. Has used me, for years. I’ve been stuck under her thumb since I was a teenager. It’s… easier to have one consistent source of food than to go out looking for it every night.

“When we were out in the woods,” you nod your head slightly toward Astarion, “there was a Gur. A monster hunter. A-And he said he was looking for a runaway.” Your breaths sharpen into quick, frightened little things. You nearly choke on them. You stare into the fire. Your nails start scratching at your hands. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. “He had nothing to go on, just a name, but I panicked and I- I killed him. I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have. I could have explained everything. I could have paid him off. I could have-”

“Steady on, soldier,” Karlach interrupts. You can’t look at her, can’t draw your eyes away from the flickering flames, but you know she looks worried. It always amazed you how openly she wore her emotions, despite it all. “Take a breath, okay?”

Your nails stop scratching in favor of digging into your skin. You take a breath, slowly let it out, and your nails ease off. You run your fingertips mindlessly over the indents left behind.

You whisper, unable to raise your voice any further. “He said my master is in Berdusk.”

Quiet. Gale spoke up, voicing the awful realization everyone had. “That’s only a few miles from Baldur’s Gate.”

You nod.

“You’re marchin’ right back to her.” Karlach sighs, heavy and empathetic.

You finally lift your eyes from the fire. Everyone’s attention is on you, pitying and remorseful. “I have no choice. I can’t abandon you all just to run away. Especially with these tadpoles. I have no doubts she’ll find me quickly once we reach the city.”

“We could confront her,” Wyll suggests. “Go to Berdusk, face her head on, free you!”

“It’s not some goblin camp we can just walk into and clear out,” you protest. The idea thrills you to no end, but you cannot allow yourself that hope. Not when there is none. You will be found. Tonight, the next, a week from now. You’ll be locked back into your servitude. There is no chance you have to be free. “Killing a vampire lord isn’t- It’s not just-”

Astarion speaks up. You don’t expect it; he’d been so quiet this whole time. “If we can kill Cazador, we can kill Kir Parthene.” Your stomach rolls around at the sound of her name. “What makes facing my master any different from yours?”

You know the answer. Even if you don’t realize it yet, you know.

You have no qualms threatening Cazador. You’ve even told Astarion that you plan to help him kill his master, once and for all. Free him and his ‘siblings’, and rid Baldur’s Gate of the nighttime threat to its people. No longer would they have to go out, lure victims in as food for the vampire lord. It was so easy to promise. If you could help everyone else, why should you leave Astarion to the same fate you faced after this quest? He should be as free as possible from the chains binding him.

So why couldn’t you let them swear the same for you? What made Kir Parthene so different from Cazador? She was not stationed in as large a city, she did not steal souls off the street every night just for a quick meal, she did not personally carve poetry into the flesh of those beneath her. She had power, but no more than Cazador held. So why were you so reluctant to even dream of your freedom?

You were afraid.

Astarion can see the very second you know the answer to his question. Your eyes open a fraction wider, filling with a bottomless dread. Your heart stutters and your breath catches. He’s sure you’re on the verge of tears as you inhale a trembling breath, trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating, even as your fear squeezes your lungs.

“You won’t have to face her alone.” You turn to look at Shadowheart. “You’ve given us the strength to face our demons. We can help you face yours.”

You want to believe her. Believe all of them as they nod in agreement. Believe they could give you the strength you lacked, support you when you come face-to-face with her once more.

But then you see the deep crimson of her eyes and lips. You feel her nails digging into your skin. The cooing affections that come just after the harsh vitriol. Her teeth digging deep into your neck. How can you have any hope of facing her?

You shake your head and push yourself to your feet so fast Astarion is startled. “I’m sorry. I can’t think about this right now.” You abandon your dinner. It sits, lonely and growing cold, as you step away from the warm glow of the fire and the safety of your companions into the edge of trees surrounding your camp. You don’t go far, just far enough you can’t hear them speaking and they can’t see you collapse against a tree, clutching and clawing at your hands to remove the memories from your mind.

At least they know now.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup

[weak2dragon]

Hey there! Quick intro post since I’m new here!

My name is Aut (any pronouns tbh) and this blog is for me and my pokemon partners. I am 26 and I work in the office of a nursing home that houses lots of elderly and disabled people and pokemon.

Please feel free to send me asks about anything or request seeing any of my pokemon! More info under the cut since I don’t want this post giant lol

I used to enjoy battling as a hobby but as I began to work it moved to the side and now my team has really just become my companions. I have a giant soft spot for unique dragon types (thus half my team and blog name lol) and lowkey dream of just becoming a dragon type trainer/breeder.

My mons are: Goomy (Booger), Tatsugiri-curly form (Skrimp), Kecleon (Kevin), Sneasel (Sloane), and Appletun (Matilda/“Tilly”)!!

I also have some mons that aren’t officially mine but might as well be which live out in my yard: Sandygast (Pebbles), Parasect (Bucket), and Wurmple (Diego)

I really just love taking pictures of them and all of the other pokemon I encounter in my day to day life. Please feel free to send me asks any time, I’d love to get to know other folks on Rotomblr ^^

(If you want to scroll my blog and just see pictures look at #pics2dragon !! Asks are tagged #asks2dragon , text posts are text2dragon, ooc posts are ooc2dragon, posts reblogged from others are weak2reblog)

[the-cleaning-guy]

Howdy!

My name is Bruce and I'm Princeton-Plainsboro's janitor, nothing too special. I keep the hospital clean and occasionally bring in my dogs to help the patients.

I've been told to include some things about myself so here ya go:

Age- 25 (April 21, 1979)

Pronouns- He/Him

Sexuality- Fag

I have 4 dogs, a truck almost as old as me, I can play the guitar, harmonica, and drum on buckets. Feel free to ask me something or talk to me I'm all ears buddy!

Some information about him!

Bruce grew up in a trailer park with his parents and older brother. His dad worked a blue collar job and his mom was a bartender. His brother is 6 years older than him, he wasnt home often so theyre not very close. He still goes to see his parents, he'll stop by and have dinner with them every so often. All of them were really distant growing up (still are) but they care about eachother in their own ways.

He started using drugs around 14 and it got really bad from 16-20. He originally got the job at PPTH at 19 but a year later got sent to rehab because he almost OD-ed. Cuddy gave him the job back because he was a good worker and his recovery was going really well. Hes relapsed a few times and had to stay inpatient at PPTH.

He has a slight southern accent that comes out with certain words but its not super obvious. His right eye is a very light grey/blue, his left eye is an olive green. He has tattoos all over his body (including a tramp stamp he got at 16). He has a labret, a septum, a tongue, 10 ear (3 on top, 2 on bottom), and a belly button piercing. Him and his brother both have moles under their eye but on opposite sides.

He owns an old red pickup truck from the 80s. Lives in a small rundown apartment 40 minutes from PPTH. He has four dogs (two pit bulls, a german shepherd, and an australian shepard). One pit bull (named Bones but he calls him Baby) is a trained therapy dog who helps him with his addiction and anxiety. He plans on getting his german shepherd (Jack <- named after jack twist from brokeback mountain) trained to be a therapy dog too. He learned to play guitar, harmonica, and bucket drums as a young teen practically on the streets.

He gets along with most people really well since hes easy to talk to. He has resting bitchface but when he talks to people hes very polite and friendly which makes up for it. Kids tend to like him so he carries candy in his pockets for them. He has sort of a random country uncle feel to him? Hes very charismatic but you also wouldnt want to get in a fight with him. He looks like someone you'd see at a bar drinking beers and watching the game on tv. Though hes not really a fan of sports other than hockey or fighting. He seems older than he really is both physically and mentally. He'll bring in Bones for the patients to hang out with when hes allowed to. He enjoys talking about music, movies/shows, history, dogs, etc. People tend to talk to him about their drama so he knows everyones business, hes a good listener!

He likes men but he doesnt really talk about it often. He grew up getting called 'fag' by most of the people around him (even if they got along) so he usually just calls himself that. He isnt currently into anybody but he gets around. Hes a cis guy but doesnt care about gender much so its never really on his mind, he probably doesnt know what being trans is but he doesnt give a shit either way.

Hello!! im ghost (@ghostboyhood) the person behind this blog. Sorry the information above is so all over the place i have a rough time wording things 😭 I'll usually talk ooc in specified tags unless youre specifically asking ME something and not Bruce -> [#ooc- blahblahblah]

This is my House Md oc Bruce N. Valentine!! Feel free to ask him things and talk to him, he'd love to listen. Hes up for answering almost anything just be smart about what you ask <3

Go check out the other people hes surrounded by at @ppth-staff !!

[copaceticjillybean]

✔★☣

✔: A plot you would love to play out with your character

OOC: Ooooh, choices choices! Well, I think a plot where Jillian and the muse my rp partner is writing keep meeting up in the same bar, talking and getting to know one another a little more each time only for Jillian to head out with another person every time. It could go several ways- a simple friendship plot, romance born out of frequent meetings, a mystery as to why the guys Jillian leaves with seem terrified to see her when she comes back after leaving with them, maybe a partners in crime type deal, all sorts of things! It could obviously be fleshed out more, but that's a plot I think could be a lot of fun! :D

★: A blog you’d love to roleplay with

OOC: Ahh, please forgive me for this, but I think I'll skip this one. I just don't want anyone who I might not be mutuals with to feel pressured by me saying I wanna write with them, in case they don't wanna write with me. But as a consolation, I WILL list a few of my favorite rp partners here instead! @cartoonslackers @a-hell-of-a-time @keeperofquestions @thehazbins There we go- just a few of the amazing peeps I rp with! :D (Edit- Okay, I'm a dirty liar. I just now thought of someone I would love to write with, and I'm only gonna tag them because they follow me and have seen me in their post's notes a few times: @grimowled I'm sorry I'm a big ol' fibberoo- please don't put me in the liar's bucket!) ☣: A pet peeve about roleplaying

OOC: Okay, I posted one of my big ones before, but this one is even bigger. It's also a peeve I have at myself about roleplaying, which is this: I hate how finicky my attention for different threads and characters can be at any given time. There are so many wonderful and amazing canon portrayals and ocs that I want to interact with, and who's muns have followed me wanting to interact. And for a while I do, but then my dumb brain decided to cling to another (equally awesome!) character, and I end up keeping my other rp partners waiting. And while everyone has been so patient, I wish I could take my brain out and shake it, so I could stop shifting focus so hard. So yeah, that's a pet peeve about my OWN rping behaviors. >u<;

[vflower-ghost]

(This will be updated in the future)

Asks: 0

Under a status effect for: no status effect

Hello… I’m flower… or vflower… or wilted… too many names…

Welcome to my mansion…

Here’s some info…

TAGS

General: #ghost vflower

Reblog: #reghost

OOC: #spadespeak

Ask: #flowtea

Text: #talkghost

Image/video/gif: #visualflow

OOC/Spade reblog: #Drawn from the deck

Reblog: #friendly haunt

If Flower is currently under a magic/status effect: #status ef-flower

DNI

basic dni, pedos, pro/darkshippers, roricons/shodacons, ableist, homophobe, transphobe, racist, nsfw

About Wilted

This Flower (my au) is called Wilted. They’re 19, non-binary, and go by they/she. She’s quite soft spoken and prefers to be alone when possible. They can be found usually drinking tea or with one of the stray cats that wander in. Flower also tends to carry a small plush around, it looks like a cat of sorts… They claim that the plush has talked to them before and is called Blossom.

Facts about them:

Yes they, along with other vsynths, are androids, don’t ask how they die, I’m still working that out

They are aroace

They’re in a QPP with Miku

Xin Hua, MEIKA Hime and Mikoto are their “sisters” despite not being able to be related

Sometimes they randomly start screaming, lasting from a few seconds to an hour or so

They originally started out as a Ghost Rule outfit/design for vflower but later I changed them to be a dead Flower

Uhhhhh, you can do like magic/status effects on them, pls specify how many asks it lasts for, if not I will default to five asks (ooc asks don’t count for the length). just don’t be weird during that effect or you’re going in the blocked bucket, no one likes the blocked bucket

Mod shit:

Hi, am spade from hit blog spadeinpain also known as hit twitter user YR_F_Virus

Uhhh I am minor sooooooooooooo-

Greyrose (or grey-aroace)! Flower is one of the three I project my aroaceness (especially my aceness) to. Also because I really wanted flomigu without the seggs or romance

Despite being gifted, I lack common sense and some morality (this is your cue to attach a morality core)

I may accidentally reblog something for the Yu and Rei blog or the main blog here so forgive me if that happens

Reference Sheet:

[metalmechanic]

[ INTRO ]

Hello there, welcome to yet another Phighting RP Blog by @m3dz3r0, parent blog is @herbstash.

First I would like to state that I am not affiliated with BOGGIO or anyone else that works on Phighting in any way, I'm simply a big fan of the game and characters. Nothing here should be taken as canon

Blog Warnings:

Murder / Violence, Foul Language, the expected..

[ CHARACTER LORE ]

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

Lore:

Although working conditions at Blackrock aren't exactly the best, they are still happy to work on machines and help fix them up and stuff.. They get to go out and do their own stuff anyway and they do have a good friend in the labs, so what's the worst that can happen? Surely nothing bad will happen..

Right?

They / Them

---

Other Stuff:

Bucket is friends with Chainsaw and Boomerang.. Though they try to keep their relationship with Boomerang a secret because of the tension between Blackrock and Playground, even Chainsaw is kept unaware..

Their hands and feet are metal hooves! That's the reason they wear gloves, to not scratch up all the metals and other material.

[ KEY ]

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

" Dialogue "

Narration

OOC

[ BLOG BOUNDRIES ]

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

Follow basic DNI.

No NSFW. Mod is an A-Spec Minor, plus this is a Phighting OC so they're biologically asexual anyway. Flirting and maybe some suggestive stuff is fine aslong as it doesn't go too far.

Although I do already have a personal ship for them I wouldn't exactly mind shippingin general.

Gore is fine though will be tagged depending on the severity. No IRL gore ofc.