#this is way too long. i promise i'm normal. come closer

[transgenderfivepebbles]

hey, could you share the Ancients name headcanons? :)

deep breath in this essay i will

okay so let's start off with a few language hcs, because my naming ones depend on the structure of the language

the ancients' language is picto/logo/ideographic (idk the exact difference, maybe it's multiple??), kind of canon considering the achievement glyphs

compound words and radicals are very common, used both for inflection and to specify words, e.g. Sliver of Straw becomes [Straw] [Sliver-genitive], Seven Red Suns becomes [Seven] [Setting-Sun], Looks to the Moon becomes [Look-Toward] [Moon]

they don't count in base 10! I'm working on a base 32 system inspired by karma 6-10's symbols, this is important for the names because they need to have consistent lengths

characters have a lot of stylization potential for use in seals, signatures, etc. but it tends to render the words unreadable to people not well-versed in the art form

now onto their actual naming schemes

a typical Ancient name is exactly 4 characters, denoting a quantity, quality, or object. this is split into two [adjective] [noun] names, somewhat analogous to a first and middle name

the personal name (not always the first half) is chosen by the individual themselves, while the other half is linked to their family (usually shared with or derived from a parent or older sibling) - for example, if Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets had a sibling, they could be named something like Seven Branches, Twelve Brackets

iterators, as they belong to no particular family, lack the family name, only having a single name

colors are never used in Ancient or iterator names, as they are reserved for referring to dynasties; the two iterator names that contain colors use them figuratively, the "Grey" in "Grey Wind" meaning "cloudy" or "dreary" rather than the literal color

the words, especially objects, used in names aren't arbitrary; they have a lot of associations and symbolism that are given to an individual as wishes for their life. natural themes, like Leaves and Sprouts, represent hope for a peaceful life, while tools, like Axes and Spades, symbolize ambition and great achievements

names could be easily made into square or circular seals, with each character taking up a quadrant of the seals. they were rather common in the higher ranks of society, and often made by the person themselves, used as a form of signature

name length/complexity is correlated with social status, from short, simple names (Pel from White Pearl my beloved), to single-part adjective-noun names, likely used by lower-class aristocrats or other minor roles (Eight Bogs of the House of Eight from Other White Pearl my beloved), to the double-part names like those of the echoes, used by monks, nobles, and others held in high regard.

[mooooonnnzz]

holy shit world/insure made me sob. would you consider doing a part two ? i’m imagining stan and ford telling dipper and mable childhood stories with the reader. they’re vague about it, saying stuff like “they aren’t here anymore” so the twins just think read died. then reading coming back through the portal and they connect the dots. omfg i’m obsessed with this concept.

Word/Insured Part 2

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

☆ GUESS WHO FINISSHHHEDDDD!!!

☆ this'll have 2 parts so it's easier to digest, since it's lawnngg so if it abruptly ends, that's just me splitting it

☆ 4,5k words

☆ gender-neutral reader

☆ possible tw: drinking to cope, mentions of suicide, gagging and descriptive chewing? and just angst

☆ srry this lowk kinda took long to write both keyboard and mouse just died on me when i was writing this so i had to find an old keyboard oops

☆ if this does well, i'm considering on making hcs of reader adjusting back to their home dimensions and diving deep into the twins n their trauma !!

☆ that's all. i hope you all enjoy! :3

✶ Stan and Ford hadn’t talked to each other since your disappearance. The anger and hatred that Stan held onto was enough to deter him from even granting a glance at Ford who tirelessly tried to get Stan to talk to him. He’d begin the conversation with ideas he’s thought through the night prior, ideas that most likely secured a chance on bringing you back. But Stan wanted nothing to do with him. His head was shrouded with your screams, the way you yelled out for Stan instilled such a soul-crushing guilt on Stan; he wasn’t sure he’d properly function as a normal human being after this. Not to mention, you and Stan were two peas in a pod, spending 10 years together after the collapse of their family truly brought the pair together, closer than they’d ever thought they would be. And now Stan is going through the same grief he felt when he was kicked out of the house, Ford doing nothing but sparing a sorrowful glance to him as he shouted for his brother, anticipating Ford to do something; to clean his name and everything would go back to normal. But instead, he turned his back on him. The situations were massively different but the pain was eerily still the same. 

✶ Stan would spend majority of his nights clutching your belongings close to his chest. He didn’t care if it looked weird, those were the only things that he had left of you at the moment. Nights were spent crying himself to sleep, envisioning different scenarios where he had caught onto your wrist and pulled you back to the ground, where it was safe, where he was there to protect you. He couldn’t let his mind linger on the idea of you being stranded in another dimension, helpless and lost, not knowing what to do or where to go. The mere thought of it sends his heart crumbling down to his palms, all shredded and shattered beyond repair. He was your big brother, he was supposed to protect you. To keep you safe from harm's way, he betrayed that very promise by leading you to the place where you were taken away from him too soon. And that alone gutted him. Ford would hear Stan sobbing into the night and all he did was lay there in his bed, submitting himself to the torture to hear his brother’s wretched cries. Because, this was his fault. Stan wasn’t shy to tell him that almost every waking moment of the day when he has the chance. The guilt haunts him.

✶ Verbal arguments were pretty common between the pair. Stan mainly started them when he was pulled out of the haze he was in and roughly back to reality. A reality where you weren’t around anymore and that irked him, because who else was at fault other than his idiotic brother? “Do you ever wonder how more lively this house would have been if ya hadn’t pushed [Name] inside the portal?” His tone was harsh. They carried thick venom to them, his words permanently burning their way into Ford’s brain. “Not this again,” Ford’s heart quivered. He had just recollected himself from yesterday's fight and now Stan wants to barrel through another one? Ford avoided Stan’s glaring eye contact. “Stanley, I told you many times before. I’m sorry! I’m sorry for screwing up, I’m sorry for being the reason why [Name] isn’t here anymore.” Ford’s head tilted back, his eyes staring longingly at the ceiling. “You don’t know how much this eats at me, Stanley.” He blinks away the tears threatening to escape, his head lowering back down to meet Stan’s fiery stare. “But I beg of you, please. Don’t hate me for it. I can’t lose you again, not after losing [Name].” The look in Ford’s eyes was something Stan would never be able to forget, no matter how hard he tried. He looked so broken, so shattered, the shell of someone who once was a prodigy at everything he touched was now crushed to bits; pieces of him scattered, lost to time. Stanley’s anger faded into a mellow irritation. Shifting his hands awkwardly on his chest, his face softened ever so slightly. “Fine,” He grumbled, rushing past Ford, their shoulders roughly rocking against each other. Ford sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. This was a new development. A spark of hope flickered in Ford. 

✶ Alcohol and cigars were Stan’s life vest. He’d rob a few packs of beer and down them within two days. It wasn’t healthy, but at least it distracted him from everything that was happening, right? Stan was pretty much drunk every day, and if he wasn’t, he was out on the porch smoking cigars, hoping that one day Ford would find him dead on the floor with beer cans surrounding him, his last moments spent thinking about how much he missed you. Stan wasn’t an angry drunk much to Ford’s surprise, considering how he spent his times where he was sober yelling at Ford, rather he’d rot away on the couch or floor, silently crying to himself in a puddle of his own tears. Many times Ford would have to pick up Stan, rest him on the couch and try to sober him up. And it wasn’t an easy task to do, picking up Stan with his weak arms was a workout for Ford. “Why couldn’t I save them?” Stank drunkenly babbled out, his head swaying side to side. “Don’t move too much, Stanley. You’ll give yourself a headache.” Ford warned, propping his head up with a pillow. “If I wasn’t so slow, [Name] would still be here.” Stan hiccups, his eyes glistening with tears. No matter how many times Ford hears Stan painfully talking about you, it still hurts the same and even more. “It’s not your fault, Stan.” Ford said, pulling a blanket up to his chest. “It’s not yours either.” Stan’s hand patted Ford on his face, thinking that it was his head. When Stan pulled his hands away, tears were streaking down Ford’s cheek. Hearing Stan tell him that it wasn’t his fault healed a piece of him and that quickly triggered the waterworks. “There, there, brother.” Stan patted Ford’s back as he sobbed into his hands. “It’s not my fault,” He repeated in loud sobs. “It’s not your fault.” Stan echoes. 

✶ Ford handled his grief and stress by huddling himself in the lab, isolating himself from Stan’s drunken state and researching his work. Trying to find loopholes that he can tie them close with a workaround, with a quick fix that would bring you back. Cans of beer were discarded around his lab, just the same as upstairs. But he wasn’t downing beers like Stan, he chugged one or two to dull out the ache in his heart, to keep it from distracting him. He knew when to stop and limit himself. He wasn’t dependent on alcohol. Sleep was something Ford considered useless. That would only distract him from his work, from his progress. Stan walked into the lab, puffing a gray smoke of air out onto the air. Your absence has bestowed so much despair onto the pair and he hadn’t realized until this very moment. Walking over to Ford, he placed a hand on his back. He was messily sleeping on top of his work, glasses hanging off his face, mouth open, drool dribbling down to his arms and paper. His dark circles were so dark and he was unshaven, chin stubbly with hair. Has he been getting any sleep? He wouldn’t know because he’s always drinking the day away. Stan internally groaned at himself. Not only has been neglecting himself, he’s been neglecting his brother. Burning out the cigar, he grabbed a blanket from upstairs and draped it over Ford. “Sleep tight, Stanford.” He said, gingerly squeezing his arm. Stan sat right next to him, wanting to keep him company and dozed off. When morning came, Ford awoke to Stan’s head colliding with his chair. For that one morning, Stan’s snores were music to his ears. 

✶ “S-Stanley!” Ford’s body lunges up from the couch when he sees Stan briskly pass by him and into the kitchen. “I-I’ve done some research and I-I think I found a way to get [Name] back!” He stumbles over his words, the lack of sleep weighing heavily on his foggy brain. The only thing that is keeping him up as of now is coffee he had been taking in shots for the past few days. The way he moves is fidgety and erratically and Stan takes notice of that. Pouring a cup of coffee for himself in a mug, he leans his back against the counter. “You need sleep, Stanford.” He brings the rim of the mug to his lips, his eyes never leaving Ford’s trembling figure as he takes a big gulp from his coffee. Ford couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stan spoke to him! It was measly four words, but that’s more than he has ever said in the past five months, that wasn’t angry nonsensical words that were being thrown at him or depressing drunken babbling. “No, there’s so much to be done.” Ford runs a hand through his unkempt hair. “You need to hear me out. We need to find the other two–” Stan shushes him. “I won’t talk to you until ya sleep, Stanford. Don’t you bother trying to back out from this.” He looks at Ford with a stern expression, almost the same one Mom wore whenever he warned Ford to not do anything stupid in the backyard with Stan. “B-But!” Stan doesn’t hear his weak objections, he’s already out of the kitchen before Ford can conjure a good enough excuse. With a groan, Ford trips over his own feet while he makes his way back to the couch. Pushing all his research and books off the couch and onto the floor, he topples over the couch. When his head crashes on the soft plush of his sofa, his body automatically shuts off, revealing how dangerously tired he was. His eyes fluttered close and it didn’t take long for him to crash out on the couch. Stan came in to check on Ford and was pleasantly pleased to see his twin at last getting the rest he deserved. 

✶ Clinking his fork idly on the ceramic plate, Stan watched Ford make breakfast. Originally Stan was going to prepare breakfast, but Ford saw he was cooking and pushed him out of the kitchen, telling him that it was “his treat,” Stan couldn’t even utter a single word to him. He just wanted simple scrambled eggs and toast and now he’s left to fear for his life as Ford concocts a science experiment for his breakfast. “And for you breakfast, Stanley.” Ford swoops in, leaning forward as he shuffles the plate of food onto the table. “Scrambled eggs and buttered toast,” Ford smiles knowingly, placing his breakfast down. He had the same breakfast but the crust of his toast was cut off. “I don’t even know why I doubted you.” Stan scoops up the scrambled eggs with his fork and shoves it in his mouth with giddy excitement, a display of emotions Ford hadn’t seen in over 10 years. Who knew a simple breakfast would get him so happy? “Still being a baby about the crust?” He points to Ford’s crustless buttered toast with his fork, mouth muffled with food still being chewed in his mouth. Ford cringes at the sight of mashed up food in Stan’s mouth, suppressing a gag as he nods his head. “Chew your food before talking, Stanley! We’re not kids anymore.” He rasps out, his palm covering his mouth, his body shuddering with full body heaves. “Alright, alright!” With a loud gulp, he swallows his scrambled eggs. “Happy now?” Said Stan with a roll of his eyes. “Maybe not,” Using his other hand, Ford pushes the plate of eggs away. “Don’t want to eat anymore,” Stan shrugs, pouring the scrambled eggs on the plate. “More for me!” As Stan is chowing down on his eggs, Ford regains his composure. Though, he couldn’t watch Stan eat his eggs without the image of the yellow goopy food in his mouth so he averted his gaze to his hands. 

✶ “[Name] sure had grown up the last time I saw them.” This was Ford’s feeble attempt at sprouting a conversation with Stan, but he soon regretted what he said when he realized the fragility of the topic. Stan blinks, stunned. A beat passes and Ford’s ready to divert the conversation to another topic when Stan replies with a weird look on his face Ford can’t quite catch. “Well, yeah,” Stan looks off to the side. Ford lets out a breath of relief, Stan wasn’t upset at the mention of you. “They left with me when you and Dad kicked me out and we haven’t seen each other since then.” There’s a distant look in his eyes when he speaks, his words carrying a light anger to them ever so slightly. “How were th–” Stan shoots up, the chair skidding behind him. “Just because we’re all chummy now doesn’t mean you get to ask all about [Name].” The sudden shift in his emotions slapped Ford right in his face. “I’m sorry.” Ford whispers. Stan clicks his tongue, uttering to himself before shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry.” Stan rubs the sides of his head with his fingers. “Let’s not talk about them right now, okay? I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Stan pulls the chair to him and sits down. He rests his head on his fist, eyebrows pinched together with a long frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to blow up on ya like that.” Stan looks Ford in the eyes, and he could see the sincere sadness swimming in his eyes. “It’s okay, Stanley. Why don’t we talk about what you do for a living?” With that, they eased themselves into a comfortable conversation, with a few hiccups here and there, but in the end, the twins both had a soft smile adoring their faces.

✶ The repairing of the portal was a stepping stone that repaired Ford’s and Stan’s relationship. They weren’t going to lie and say that their relationship now was perfect, they still had their moments of anger and differences, but with a lot and a lot of patience, their bond was soon regaining its spark. “Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan slapped a sloppily written plan on how to fix the portal in front of Ford. “What is this?” Ford looked at the piece of paper like it was garbage. “A plan to fix the portal, isn’t it obvious?” Stan snatched his paper back up, eyes speedily reading his work, doubting his work. “Stanley, that is unnecessary. I have the blueprints to fix the portal.” Discarding his plan, he slapped his hands enthusiastically, rubbing them together. “Alright! So where are they?” Ford sucks in a breath. “In the other journals.” Stan nodded his head slowly, as if that information was already obvious. “And where are the other journals?” Ford coughs into his fist, speedily saying; “I hid them.” Stan looks at him weirdly. “Can’t we just unhide them?” Ford rubs a hand up against his prickly cheek. “That’s the thing. I may or may not remember where I hid them.” Closing his eyes, he braced for the gust of angry yelling. “you WHAT?!” Stan’s hands flew to the side of his head. “How do you forget where you put them?!” Stan made a mental note to mark down how many times Ford screwed up, so far he has two. He has a long way to go before he could be anywhere near Stan’s record. “I was in a flurry of panic! I wasn’t thinking straight.” Stan groaned, smacking his face with his hand. “Was it at least in Gravity Falls?” Stan had his fingers crossed. “Yes, obviously.” A triumph “Yes!” leaves Stan. “Okay, let’s get digging then!” 

✶ Stan severely underestimated how truly difficult it would be finding one of the books in a forest that seemed like it stretched out for miles. Every turn looks the same and whenever he’d think he’s making progress, he’s right back where he started, at least he thinks he is. Frustrated, he bangs his head on a tree. The sound of metal clanging rang in his ears and shook through the tree. He groaned, holding his head with one hand as he curiously examined the possible metal tree. “Stanley!” Ford came running to Stan’s side, panting heavily. He wasn’t used to running for more than 5 seconds, and that was evidently proven with his flushed face and out of breath wheezes. “This tree is metal,” Stan notes, taking a few steps back, winding his leg back and hammering his shoe into the tree. The tree simply shook, the metal sound nowhere to be heard. “What?” Stan can feel his brain heating up, he couldn’t make any sense of this. The tree he kicked felt like a tree, not some metal contraption. It was only when he knocked his head—An idea springs to mind. Leaning his head back, he slammed his head on the tree. Shocked noises sputter out of Ford as he watches Stan rub the sore spot in his head. “There’s something here,” He gestures to the general area where he smashed his head in. “I can see that!” Ford walks up to the tree, knuckles gently knocking on the metal plate that was disguised as a tree. His hands move around the tree, searching for a way to open the plate. His fingers snag on an elevated piece of tree and with his fingertips, he swings it open, revealing a control panel. The memories of constructing this rush to his mind. “I remember now!” He flips a switch, his head turning over to where the large log rested. In front of it, a patch of grass was pulled back to unravel the hidden place where book three was. Ford eagerly snatched the book in his hands, showcasing it to Stan. “Great job, Stanford!” He claps Ford’s back. “So where’s the other one, you remember?” Unfortunately for the both of them, Ford doesn’t remember. He had seemed to bury most of his memories after meeting Bill Cipher, anything beyond that point was an empty mess for him.

✶ With the two books in hand, they managed to tinker and repair the damage to their best efforts. After each exhausting night in the lab, he’d attempt to pull the lever in hopes that whatever they did that day would work and to their utter disappointment, it never dislodge from its spot. “Man,” Stan wipes his forehead with his forearm, sweat glistening on his arm. “For a brainiac like you, I would’ve never imagined you being terrible at building this!” Stan barked with a laugh. Ford scoffed, his attention laser focused on fixing a part of the machine. “How did you manage to build the portal in the first place?” Stan wondered, the flashlight he was using to help Ford see what he was doing began to steer away. “Stanley,” Ford snapped. “The light!” Stan jolted up in surprise, the light quickly going back to Ford. “Sorry,” He sheepishly said. “But seriously, how did you build this?” He looked at Ford curiously. “I had an assistant.” Ford mumbled, a leak of oil dotting his clothes. He hissed, grabbing a tool off the ground to fix whatever started leaking. “Had? What happened?” Ford hummed happily. He had fixed the leak. Placing the tool back down to the floor, he directed his attention to Stan. “He quit.” Ford scratched his head, unintentionally smearing oil on his cheek with his hand. “Why?” Stan tossed him a piece of clean cloth, silently motioning to his cheek. Ford took it, wiping his cheek with the cloth. “He, uh,” If Ford told Stan that he went inside the portal momentarily and came out completely traumatized, Stan would go berserk on him knowing that you went inside the exact portal that mentally ruined Fiddleford. Ford did not want to go back to the arguing and suffocating silence so he lied. “He just thought what I was doing was unethical.” That wasn’t a complete and total lie, but it was far from the truth. Stan bought the lie fortunately for Ford. “Glad at least someone had the brain to call a quits!” 

✶ Before they knew it, they were tremendously low on money. Stan was the unfortunate one to discover this revelation. On a quick supply run, Stan had gone to the grocery store and stock up on some food. When the cashier rang up him, totaling his price to 30 dollars, Stan had pulled out a penny, paper clip and a wrapper. Mentally cursing Ford for spending all his money on unnecessary science stuff, he weakly smiled at the cashier. “Can you hold onto my groceries for a quick second?” The cashier nodded their, a big bright smile on their face. “Of course, stranger!” And right when Stan was going to snag the groceries bags in his hurried rush, a woman spoke from behind him. “Hey, that’s no stranger! That must be the mysterious science guy in the woods!” She points, gathering a crowd around Stan. “Ah, no. That’s my nerdy twin brother.” Stan says, causing the crowd to coo in interest. “There’s two of them?” Someone in the crowd asked. “He probably cloned himself just so he could do two things at once!” Someone else said. “That’s probably what happened. I’ve heard strange stories about that old shack.” Toby Determined spoke up. “Yeah! Mysterious lights and spooky experiments!” Daryl added. “Gosh, I’d pay anything to see what kind of shenanigans you get up in there!” Pa said. Susan perked up at that. “Oh, me too! Do you ever give tours?” 

✶ A sly smirked pulled to Stan’s face. He had the perfect idea. “Yes, I do give tours! Ten…no-no fifteen bucks a person!” The crowd erupts in cheers, waving their green bills around. “Is it possible we get to see the man of mystery himself?” Susan questions. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” Stan eluded them to think that there was no possible way to get to Ford to gauge their reactions. And what they gave him sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. “You know what?” The crowd lightens up with hope. “Fifty bucks if you all want to see the man of mystery himself!” Another boisterous cheer from the crowd. “And what did you say your name was, twin of mister mystery?” Stan smiled proudly. “Stanley, Stanley Pines.”

✶ The crowd bustles into the shack, ooo’s and aaa’a left their mouths in awe of the place. “Step right up folks to a world of,” he pauses for a moment thinking. “A world of enchantment!” He gestures to all the wild findings. Grabbing a dial box with two antennae, he showcases it to the crowd. “Behold! The um, nerdy science box.” Susan looked at it with interest. The device rumbled to life and zapped her in the eye, rendering it closed. “Ah, my eye!” She covers her closed eye, stumbling back. “Uh, I can assure you, that is no way permanent!” He offers an uneasy smile. “I paid sixty five dollars for this!?” With Susan’s comment, the whole crowd erupted in complaints. Quickly thinking, he grabs a skeleton and makes a half-assed joke where the last customers didn’t make it out alive. The crowd laughs at his horrible joke and Stan smiles. “What is with all this ruckus?” Ford walks in, irritation evident on his face. “Is that him?” Someone excitedly shrieks from the crowd. “Oh my god, it is! Take my money!” Wads of dollar bills get thrown at Stan who was making a great effort to make sure he caught all of them. “Stanley, what did you do!”

✶ After answering a few questions he was coaxed into, (they stroked his ego), he kicked them out, accidentally saying that they could return another time before closing the door, smacking himself in the head. “What was that?” Stan turned over to Ford,  buckets of money shoved inside into his shirt. “I got us money! And look how much we got!” He pulls a ten dollar bill from his stack in his shirt. “Stanford, this the best thing that’s ever happened to us so far.” Ford looks at him, unsure. “I’m not a fan of ripping people off,” Stan’s hands fall to his sides. “It’s their choice to throw money at me like a madman. Listen, if we get more money, we can stock up on good materials to fix the portal, like really good parts and we can finally bring [Name] back.” Ford stewed in his thoughts for a little more. He hated to admit, but Stan was right. With a little more money, they could be sailing straight to victory with a higher chance of your return. Ford let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, but I don’t want you to mess with my stuff, got it?” Stan beamed brightly. “I promise!” He broke that later on. 

✶ Gradually, the scary shed in the woods turned into a tourist spot people would frequent. Together, they advertised the shack by plastering various signs and posters all over the woods. They even went as far to tape advertisements onto people’s windows. Ford wanted to use actual beasts he had found in the woods to show to people, but in the end they all ran away, horrified for their lives. Ford was respectfully peeved because when he’d glance over to Stan, he had somehow had the crowd hanging on to every word that spilled out of his mouth. And when he’d show the crudely sewed animal he had made within five minutes before the tour started, they all gasped in delight, their money flying to him. “How do you do it?” Ford asks as Stan closes the door, reveling in the pool of money he had made. “I just say whatever comes to mind.” Stan shrugs. “But none of your stories make any sense logically! How did they believe in a half beaver half bat?” He gestures to the taxidermy animal. The beady eyes were slowly sliding off its face, leaving a trail of glue. “Hey, the people love to spend their money on things that are obviously fake, weirdly enough.” The door rattles with a knock. “Wanna take this next crowd? I gotta sort this money.” Against his will, not really, Ford opens the door and flashes an award winning smile he had learned from Stan. Cash was already being shoved in his face. At least he earns money for looking good. Ford attempted Stan’s whole shtick and to his very surprise it worked! It wasn’t as good as Stan’s performance, but it worked well enough that people were swarming him with cash. His bitterness from before was quickly washed over and he continued on his act. When the crowd dispersed, satisfied with their tour. Stan was there in the middle, clapping widely. “That was some good acting there, Ford!” Ford smiled, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m only doing this cause we need the money.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz if you wanna be added to my taglist, dm me or comment! <3

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[cupidkenji]

If you think I'm pretty

Pairing: Homelander x afab!reader CW: fingering, praise, slightly OOC homie, threats of captivity (he says hes gonna keep reader in the penthouse that's it I promise it's not genuine), cursing, sub!reader, porn without plot (I think this is applicable), they're in a relationship before this, reader says 'John' cause moaning homelander is funny as fuck Summary: Being a perfectionist, you're unsatisfied with a recent test score. Homelander has a cure for that. Disclaimer: reader is always thought to be chubby/fat but there are no physical descriptors here, just an FYI WC: 1,955 Genuinely idk I'd like to apologize for this. I fell out of my Criminal Minds hyperfixation like months ago and haven't written since so I'm really rusty. This is 100% a self-insert but reader is gn and not described other than the fact that they're AFAB. Also this was only proof read once so please point out typos if you see them <3

Your mother used to scold you for being too hard on yourself. Her face is virtually the only thing you can picture as your screen burns your eyes a bit. It’s too early for the high brightness of the device, having woken up before the sun could reintroduce your eyes to light. You’d set yourself up to wake slightly after midnight, intending to check the score of a huge test you’d taken months ago and simply go back to sleep in a matter of minutes. A rather stupid plan, in hindsight. You were questioning now if you knew yourself at all. Your phone had nearly been in your hand when you felt the cold burn of anxiety in your lungs. This test was a huge fucking deal. You were a hardcore perfectionist on top of that, trying with countless futile attempts to surrender your idea of the model score. You just needed to pass, not get your professor to memorialize you in marble for your pure genius. You’d gotten up instead of turning on your phone, brushing your teeth and making your bed before pacing the room slightly while you thought. Essentially, you were just allowing the mantra of ‘cope’ to bound back and forth between your ears for a couple minutes. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cope with the disappointment of a lesser score, or you were telling yourself to come down a couple pegs and be happy with getting by. The repetition of the word soothed that icy-hot feeling that had festered from your lungs to your fingertips, and you checked.

You were fine. Not the score you wanted, but you were fine. 

Mentally you writhed against the slump of your shoulders, but the weight of this self-inflicted shortcoming hit harder than you were capable of defending yourself from. The long sigh you let out was all frost as the tension left your airways. How underwhelming. You laid down on the bed you’d made not ten minutes ago, hearing the window slide open a few seconds into your pity party. You normally left it unlocked for him, knowing if anyone else attempted to enter your home, he wasn’t far. He told you himself that he seemed to have tuned into you specifically; swearing he’d be able to hear you on the other side of the city if you needed him.

“It’s way too early for you to already be having a bad day. The sun’s not even up.” He was closer now, fully sealed into your space and approaching you with comfortable footsteps. You never fully got over the irony of seeing America’s greatest hero flying through your window in sweatpants. “What’s wrong?” You always noticed the subtle way he changed how he spoke around you. In every interview or interaction you’d ever witnessed of his, he’d spoken like a character. For a man who hated having his words scripted, he spoke the same as every cookie-cutter movie he’d starred in. He didn’t talk that way with you, something you hoped was subconscious. A demonstration of the safety he felt around you.

You shrugged in response to the question. You acknowledged the trivial nature of your feelings, knowing you probably reeked of sadness to him but attempting to downplay it anyways. “Bad test score.”

He sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, allowing you the space to remain sprawled out. “Doubtful.” He laughed slightly as he said it, shaking his head and smiling. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing minorly. “What’d you get?”

“A four.”

“What were you hoping to get?”

Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, knowing he would pick it up but also trying to spare yourself the rush of immaturity hearing yourself speak would bring. “A five.”

He sighed - a sigh full of endearment that his eyes reflected as he looked at you. You told him once that his eyes were the first thing you’d noticed. It was sunny the day you’d met, and they looked practically ethereal. You’d seen such chaos reflected in them even from day one. The masses called him ‘soulless’ often, but you couldn’t understand such an accusation from anyone who had ever seen him. His eyes were practically overflowing with soul, every time you looked at him it was all you saw. They were capable of incredibly dangerous things but they were so entrancing. He was so fucking enticing. 

You broke the eye contact, but he nudged your leg and moved his head to try and follow your eyes. “Hey-” He called for your attention, so you looked back at him. “You know that’s a good score, right?”

You smiled small at him. “No- I know. I’m just…I don’t know- strict with myself.” You found it hard to put into words. You knew you’d done well, but the ability to feel pride felt withheld from you. Like your eyes bore into it but your mind refused to distribute the feeling it brought to something tangible.

“I think you’re just too much of a fucking perfectionist.” His hand was splayed across your upper thigh from where he sat. No matter which part of you he touched, he had a grip that made your head spin. He was so sure of himself, the strength demonstrated from such an unassuming form never lost the novelty that it’d held when you met him. “Can’t let yourself admit when you did good.”

You tried to be dismissive, but it was hard to fake anything with a man like him. “As if you aren’t, John.” His jaw got the slightest bit tighter at the use of his name. Such a miniscule action that easily dodges the eyes of people who aren’t looking. You couldn’t really imagine not looking at him.

“I’m serious.” His face was still relaxed, but the expression in his eyes had shifted. His pupils dilated and his full attention was on you. “You did good.”

The only con of being with somebody with abilities such as his was the lack of secrecy. You used to laugh with your friends about how grateful you were for the discrete nature of arousal when living without certain body parts. That went out the window when you started seeing him. He knew the second anything shifted within you. He had every perversion you’d ever dreamt about practically categorized by the time your two month anniversary had rolled around. One of his favorite pastimes was casually working a turn-on into conversation and just watching you squirm.

You fought the urge to pull away from his hand, feeling your stomach drop slightly at a declaration like that. “Thank you.” You looked away from him again. Something you knew he didn’t really like but choosing to try and save face over anything else. 

“Yeah…I don’t know.” You could see his focus on the topic increasing by the second. His disposition was happy, but he held serious and almost threatening undertones. He tightened his grip on your thigh and you looked at back to him, hesitantly following the silent command to keep your eyes up. “I think you should say it.”

“John-” His assertiveness was starting to get to you, it always did. You sat up on your forearms to be a little more level with him but he moved his hand from your thigh to your stomach and pushed you back down. The thought of having to lay there and explicitly state that you did well on your test felt like a kid having to write in repetition on a chalkboard in detention. 

He was looking down at you, the eye contact making you slightly dizzy. His face was kind, it almost always was when he was around you, but the conversation was derailing. “I just think it’s important that you understand this.” He was so good at making you want what he thought was best.

You inhaled, swallowing your pride and licking your lips. “What do you want me to say?”

That familiar, condescending smile was starting to creep onto his lips. “Just tell the truth.” His eyebrows raised slightly in a silent prompt. “Say you did good.”

His hand was descending from your stomach, making it’s way to the hemline of your underwear. You hadn’t bothered to change out of what you were sleeping in, only now realizing the vulnerability of it. You held your tongue for a moment, breathing out a quiet “I did good.” 

He tore the only fabric between his hand and you off your body as easily as ripping a sheet of paper and leaned in a little more. “Say it again.”

“John-” You said it as barely an exhale as he skimmed his hand over you. You hadn’t even registered just how sensitive or how wet you’d gotten in the few minutes you were talking to him.

“I don’t know why you act so fucking noble. You should be running Ashleys around in circles or giving interns your coffee order. Not any of this testing bullshit that you’re too good for anyway.” His tone elevated to that mocking, cocky tone that swept into the most shame filled crevices of your mind and tugged the most deprived parts into the driver seat. He thumbed at your clit while he spoke, increasing and decreasing the pressure whenever he felt like it and effectively snatching any remaining ability to form coherent thought from your grabbing hands. “You’ve been chosen by a God, honey. You can do anything, I can give you anything.” He got breathier as he spoke, seemingly soaking up the desperation you were excreting and matching it in a tenfold.

You felt two of his fingers enter you effortlessly and you couldn’t stop yourself from gripping his arm. You always felt the power imbalance most in times like these. A feeling like pulling an angel away from heaven just for yourself, combing through it’s wings with your fingers or trying to lap up a fraction of that status in a wildly inappropriate disregard for the natural roles of nature. He was so much more than you, but he just wanted you to feel good. You swore under your breath as he started circles on your clit. He never got hand cramps, never got tired. He would go until you couldn’t anymore.

“That’s it.” He had barely said it, more just exhaled the assurance under his breath. You were close, you’re sure he could feel it. “Gonna move you to my penthouse. Keep you braindead and needy.”

 It shouldn’t have hit you the way it did. Considering who he was, he could easily fulfill that promise with nobody at Vought even thinking twice. It was the way he said it, the way he acts. Always needing control and always right. The most powerful man alive spent his time fantasizing about control over you, and your stomach twisted in disgust at how badly it got you off.

He slowed his movements as your high declined. He was breathing heavy, but your heart was beating like a drum. He had the smallest smile on his face like the sound gave him a sense of satisfaction. You rose to your forearms, this time with no protest from him, and watched him stand up. He held the back of your head with the hand that wasn’t nearly dripping and kissed the top of your head. It was chaste and quick, but the domesticity of it made your throat ache. He uttered something about getting a towel to clean up, stating he’d be right back before exiting the room. 

You rushed the words out before he could leave. “But you didn’t-”

“Next time.” He just waved you off. “I just thought you deserved a little reward.”

[hencheri]

jaehyun and non connnn

18+. mdni.

dealer!jaehyun <3

warnings: noncon, drugs consumption.

.

jaehyun's eyes roam over your body with a playful gleam in them, a cigarette secured between his pink lips. he likes the way you look everywhere but at him, as if the white polish on your toe nails is more interesting than him.

your back is leaned against the brick wall, the small space of the alleyway forcing jaehyun to be closer to you than what would be considered normal. he can almost smell your shampoo, deciphering some floral tones. unfortunately, the tobacco in the air is too strong for him to know exactly which scent it is.

originally, your boyfriend haechan was supposed to meet jaehyun here to buy from him, but when he arrived, he found you alone. haechan wouldn't take long, you said, though it's been a few minutes already and there's no sign of him.

it gives jaehyun the opportunity to look at you, at least. see what kind of girl you are.

he can tell you're the shy type, clinging to her boyfriend because she doesn't know what to do without him. so clearly, you're super uncomfy right now. it's like leaving a kitten in the wild; it doesn't know how to survive in this big, scary world.

"want one?" jaehyun offers you a cigarette, showing you the small pack that he pulls from the pocket of his jean jacket.

you briefly glance at him, then at the packet before shaking your head as a no. he didn't expect you to say yes, but he wanted to break the ice.

he puts it back in his pocket, taking a step forward. you notice this pretty quickly, eyes staring at his shoes, moving your legs to rest against the wall.

"haechan isn't in a hurry," he comments, and he knows you're intimidated by him. it's obvious with the way you seem to be glued to the wall, arms crossed over your chest, wanting to be as small as possible.

"i'm sorry," you mumble, apologizing for your boyfriend, "i swear he's coming."

your wide eyes finally look up and meet his. there's something in them that he likes, thrills for; you're scared.

scared of jaehyun.

you have reasons to be, he won't lie. maybe you're right to be afraid of the way he towers over you, of his eyes shamelessly staring at your skimpy outfit.

"he's wasting my time," jaehyun adds, the smoke flowing out of his mouth as he talks, gently washing over your face. "and i hate when people think they can fool me around."

you shake your head again, swallowing down the lump in your throat. you don't want jaehyun to be pissed, and certainly not at you. it's not like it's your fault, but that's exactly what he wants; you to think that it's your fault, that you need to save your boyfriend from his troubles.

"jaehyun, i- i promise he doesn't mean to. i don't know what he's doing, but i'm sure-" you stutter out, and you sound absolutely pathetic.

he groans, interrupting you at the same time. "you know what, maybe you could make up for my time."

jaehyun comes even closer, caging you between his body and the wall. he takes his cig out of his mouth, throwing it on the ground and crushing the end under the sole of his shoe.

"...what?" you breathe out, voice shaky.

he bends down until his mouth is right beside your ear. "i'm sure haechan won't mind... he'd do anything for his stupid weed, anyway," he whispers.

and with that, he turns you around, his hands reaching your panties under your dress and dragging them down your thighs. you squirm around, trying to stop jaehyun's hands, but he locks them behind your back, making you whimper, feeling totally powerless.

he softly tucks your hair behind your ear, pressing his crotch against your ass, making you feel how hard he is. "it's okay, pretty. i'm gonna take good care of you..." he says, humming in your ear. "bet your little boyfriend doesn't do that often, hm?"

your mouth is wide open when he makes his way inside of you, forcing his cock between your tight walls. it's painful and you have a hard time standing steady on your legs, your knees threatening to fail you multiple times.

his thrusts knock the air out of your lungs, whines and moans slipping past your pretty lips that jaehyun imagines around his girth, choking on it like he bets you always do.

he doesn't even pull out, releasing himself deep inside of your pussy as he knows you'll think of him each time his cum will flood out of you and into your panties. and it'll also anger haechan, knowing that coward won't do a thing about it.

jaehyun gently pats your pussy when your panties are back on, only kissing the corner of your lips. "tell haechan i'm letting it slide tonight, but next time, i'm taking what's his."

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: toxic!Eren x black reader

warnings: toxic & manipulative Eren, smut 18+, mentions of cheating, a lil choking, first time writing in a while so it's a lil shitty, last sentence is a lil dramatic, nd she's not proofread

a/n: y'all, this is unfortunately based on true events૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ꒱ა however writing this did make me realize i need to stand the fuck up, bc there's no reason I'm writing this while he goes to get me some food from one of the girls job…please don't be like me and if you are STAND UP!!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

For as long as you could remember you never understood why women went back to men who cheated. Maybe it was that you grew up seeing the effects cheating had on a family, or that it seemed impossible to be that blinded by love. Whatever it was you vowed to never be one of those women and you stuck with your word all throughout life up until you met Eren.

You heard about him long before you met him. The boy having a reputation for romancing women into his bed only to act as if he didn't know him the next day. You knew about his character when you met him, and believed you knew better than to fall for his tricks.

However, with just one look into those enticing green eyes, you ended up just like every other girl. Clawing at his back while he whispered sweet talk into your ear with every thrust.

You were prepared to never speak to him again. You knew what you had signed up for. Or at least you thought so. Like clockwork every night he'd have you back in his bed, wetting up the sheets as he claimed he could never get enough of you. In the beginning, you assumed he had run out of girls to play, but after the 2nd week, his sweet talking seemed genuine.

That was how you found yourself in a year long relationship with the one and only Eren Yeager. Over the course of 12 months, he showed you he had changed for the better. Or so you thought. It wasn't till you had an unsettling gut feeling one morning that you went through his phone and found the pictures from 4 different girls that you realized it was all a facade.

Like you promised yourself from a young age, you left him. Reasonably, you were angry, but that anger soon decimated and turned into sadness and shame, not from the fact he cheated or that you had just left a long term relationship but because you realized you'd take him back if he asked.

That day you gave your formal apology to all women you deemed stupid for taking their partners back because if given the chance you'd be one of them.

Within a month of ignoring the texts and calls from unsaved numbers and acting as if you weren't home, your strength wavered. Your excuse being that you had clothes from his place that you needed. You knew you should have had a friend come with you, but you felt it was unnecessary.

Unnecessary however wouldn't have you with your legs wrapped around his waist as he stuffed you with the dick that had your fingers itching to text him in the middle of the night.

“I'm sorry, baby. None of them meant anything” He whispered, kissing his way up your collarbone.

Oh, how you so badly wanted to push him off for telling lies, but the way he was buried deep inside your walls had you gasping for air and pulling him closer.

His lips curled into a smirk at the way you responded to him. Though he was unfaithful, he truly did have strong feelings for you. Whether it was true love or lust disguised as love, he would do anything to keep you in his arms.

"You know I love you, right? I'd never intentionally hurt you. It was just...stress and temptation, okay? Those girls meant nothing and could never compare to you.” He pulled back to look at you with the eyes that got you into the mess in the first place. His hips rocked into yours, the head of his dick putting pressure on the spot that made you see stars.

“I know, I love you too, Rennie'' You cried

Any normal person would feel guilty about the way they had you wrapped around their finger. Eren however relished in the way you melted in his arms, the intoxicating bond you shared leaving him to the conclusion that he couldn't live without you.

“Yeah? You gon leave me again?” He quickened the pace of his hips.

You said something incoherently as a strangled moan escaped past your lips, eyes fluttering shut from the intensity of his thrusts.

“Can't hear you, mama. You staying?” His hand leaving the sheets to wrap around your neck. Applying just enough pressure to make your thoughts hazy

“Yes, Ren. I'm staying. M'yours” You choked out, from both the ecstasy he was providing and because you truly did miss him.

“That's my girl” He praised, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thrust quickening as the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room.

You could only whine and moan in response, the sounds driving him crazy as you looked into his eyes. Nothing but love and lust swimming through them.

“You so pretty, mama” He mumbled, the hand that was once wrapped around your neck coming down to rub small rapid circles on your clit.

“Rennie” You cried, toes curling as you arched off the bed. Stray tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the combined pleasure

“Yeah, I know baby” He captured his lip in between his teeth as he felt your walls suck him in.

The pleasure was unbearable. The coil snapping as your orgasm left your legs shaking and eyes rolling.

Eren soon followed after, finding the way you gravitated to him and the sounds that left your swollen lips so salacious he buried himself inside you, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim as he lazily rocked his hips into yours and whispered fake promises into your ear.

Tiredness immediately took over you as he pulled out. Leaving no time for regret to seep in over the fact you had just cursed your future by allowing him to once again enter your life.

oh nd im backk໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ glory hole with eren & jean𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 31: who's pussy is this!!!

✿ eren yeager x reader x jean kirstein

✿ warnings: sex clubs, p in v, glory hole, eren & jean treat u like a pocket pussy

The music in the club is loud, and you have to talk loudly to even hear one another. Eren and Jean laugh in their booth, watching a new dancer struggle on the stage.

She's cute, her small body moving in adorable ways, but they both know she's inexperienced. They have seen all of the good dancers in this club, bending their bodies in a way they didn't think was possible.

"What are my regulars doing here?" a familiar voice interrupts their entertainment. They notice Connie, the owner, standing by their boot with a sly smile. They both fist-bump him, just like they used to do in high school. Connie has always wanted to own a club, and he knew that once he had it, his friends would be coming in every week.

"We installed something new last week," Connie tells both of the men. Jean's eyebrows shoot up while Eren asks Connie what's the new thing. Their friend just smiles, telling them to go look into the basement.

"No way, man. I don't wanna get murdered." Jean huffs, he's scared of the basement. Connie once took him in, and it was the scariest experience in his life, talking about the amount of spider webs.

"If you go, you're not going to regret it," Connie says. Some girl comes up to him, wrapping herself around Connie's body. He smiles at her, kissing the top of her breast.

"I'm busy." he mouths at them before letting himself be taken to the side by the foreign girl.

"Man, I really wanna see the basement," Eren says, drowning the rest of his whiskey. Connie is a smart man when it comes to sex stuff, and he wants to know what he came up with. Maybe he installed some toys that fuck girls in front of people.

Jean groans in disapproval but decides to give it a shot. He quickly swallows his glass, the burning liquor always bringing tears to his eyes.

They both stand up, and Eren leads the way to the basement. It's a lot tidier than before, and there are even posters on the way down. There's only one door unlocked, probably the door the surprise is in.

They stare with wide eyes at a hole in the wall. There's a sign next to it saying 'fuck here'.

"He's not normal," Jean exclaims. They both know what it is. Connie installed a glory hole just for the two of them.

"Is anyone inside?" Eren calls out, making Jean punch him in the arm. Eren chuckles at his joke, it was a good one, wasn't it?

"You're a dumbass." Jean scolds him, coming closer to examine the hole.

The first thing he notices is a pussy peeking through the hole. It's a pretty pussy, all pink with a cute clit between juice pussy lips. It seems like it's already wet. He brushes his fingers against the folds, noting that it's already wet.

You jump when someone touches your pussy. You heard what seemed like two men come into the room. Connie promised that they were his friends and they needed some fun. You volunteer to work in his club, loving sex too much.

Another hand caresses your slit, this hand is rougher than the first one. The first one was rough but delicate at the same time. He was being gentle with you, but on the other hand, had one goal - to make you fall apart.

"Who's gonna fuck her first?" you hear one voice ask, you aren't sure about which hand belongs to that owner.

"You really wanna fuck her?" the other voice asks, the other person is more hesitant. Maybe he doesn't wanna fuck you, even though you want to be fucked.

"Yes, I do, jean. It's a free pussy." you hear one of them chuckle. You hear the guy unbuckle his belt, and you almost shake him in anticipation.

You're nervous, this is something you wanted for so long. sweat rises on your forehead as you finally see a dick poking through the hole. It's so close, but still so far.

His tip rubs against your opening, carefully pushing inside of you.

"Shit, she's too tight." Eren moans, sinking the rest of his cock inside of your pussy. He never had a pussy this tight in his entire life. You're sucking him right in. He feels bad that he can't see the owner of this delicious pussy. His arms brace on the wall separating you from him and Jean. Sweet little moans leave your mouth with every thrust he makes, making Eren laugh.

"She's a moaner." he mocks you, deepening his thrusts. He's pretty sure you can take a lot more than what he has to give you, but he's trying to be generous with you.

"Fuck, I won't be able to last long." he moans, speeding his thrusts so he can catch his orgasm. He doesn't care that you won't cum, you're only a hole for him.

You know he's about to cum, and you try to clench down on his cock even more. He has a nice cock, big enough to satisfy you. You yelp when his hot cum fills your body. You just wish you could see how much leaks out.

"You stretched her out too much for me." Jean rolls his eyes, showing Eren to the side so he can take his place. A slutty moan rips through him when he pushes himself all the way in. It's tight, unbelievably tight. You just took a big cock, but your pussy feels like a virgin's.

"She's good, isn't she?" Eren smirks, his cock hardening again as he watches his best friend pump his cock inside of you. Jean can only nod, your pussy left him speechless.

Connie is a dumbass, but something he has fucking good ideas.

Your body moves up and down with every stroke of his cock. This one is different, he's slower, but he makes sure to hit your insides as deep as possible. He's also a bit fatter than the first cock. You just wish it's the "gentle hands' s" dick.

You feel yourself being slowly tipped over the edge of your high. You cum around his cock, squeezing even tighter. It catches him off guard, and he can do nothing else then cum right inside of you.

"What was that?" he breathes as he tries to get over the orgasm he just had. Eren laughs next to him, "Seems like you made our fuck doll cum."

Both men dress themselves up again, fixing their appearance before going upstairs to the club.

Connie is already waiting for them with a girl wrapped around his body. He wears a cheeky smile.

"You look like you enjoyed it," he says, making you stand in front of him before wrapping his arms around your middle and putting his chin on your shoulder, "Y/n here sure had a lot of fun with you too."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @raeeesblog @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007 @herefor-tojis-tits

[ram-bles]

Plsplspls daisuke and reader romance hcs and my soul is yours

gn/transmasc whichever you prefer thank you so much

daisuke x reader | headcanons

part 4:

Romance edition

pay up anon 🫴👈 /j no, bc I have notes about this already and I saw you pop up in my notifs.

⚠️: 🔞 gn pronouns and masc pronouns* used, fluff, nothing explicit but there is implied sex (don't worry, it's optional. I put it at the end so you can skip.)

*bonus transmasc!reader category

🌺 Mentioned in a previous post. You fall first, he falls harder. He doesn't even notice until later on when he's doing the most mundane task and he catches himself smiling - "Oh."- while thinking of you. "Shiiiit."

🌺 The D in Daisuke stands for dense. Dense, dense, dense. To be fair, you guys are close and everything you've done together was seen as platonic. Heavy on was.

"Are you really bros if you don't cuddle to sleep?"

🌺 C'mon. He'll treat this like a romance visual novel game and you are the main and only love interest. It makes him less nervous this way.

🌺 Daisuke - for the life of him - could not use endearments. It makes him cringe. Will most likely call you by nickname or dude/bro (gnc).

"Babe... Baby... Honey— PFFT-" "Daisuke." Last name mouthwashing. Followed by whatever his last name was. You gave him a warning tone. "I can't help it!" He stifles his laughter but it turns into a fit of giggles.

🌺 Best friends to lovers is a perfect trope with him. I feel like the confession will come in naturally. You become best friends, blur the lines of platonic and romantic without realizing it, and the next thing you know, you're dating.

🌺 Experience wise? He's had a few relationships in highschool. Doesn't even know if he considers it as a relationship if he were honest. More-so flings.

⚠️ Implied sex. Ignore if uncomfortable.

🌺 If I were to lean more on to his mature side, then maybe things got too intimate. No promises of what happens next, but surely, you'd both question it. Don't get me wrong though, definitely an each other's firsts situation still.

Your sports watch vibrates on the table side, its buzz louder against the surface it was on. Groggily, you sit up, stretching and flinching at how sore you were before orienting yourself, unconsciously tugging the blanket closer to you. The faint sound of the shower beside the shared room reminds you of the events last night and your brain felt like it was about to shortcircuit, thoughts silencing quickly as you hear the bathroom door open, making you snap your head back up and you felt like having another wire shorting in your brain at the sight, but you push it away for now. "Mornin'!" And he says your name so sweetly, enthusiastically. Your heart ached. "I didn't take too long right? Did you just wake up?" Your silence scared him, even more so when you hung your head low. He calls your name. "Did you not like last night? Ah, fuck- Is anything painful? I'm sorry. We don't have to do this again. I'm s—" "Daisuke?" "Y-Yeah? What's up? Seriously, you're worrying me, dude. Did I hurt you?" "What are we?"

[ Bonus: Transmasc!Reader ]

🌺 Seeing your binder for the first time?

You two were back at your shared quarters. The day had just ended and you just wanted to change into your sleepwear and crash. "Dude, that looks uncomfy. You sure it ain't too tight?" "Nah. I made sure it fit. I have looser ones just incase. Don't worry, Dai." You were about to remove it when you notice him staring. Before this, you've been changing in the bathroom already, and at times he'd just turn away when you tell him to. He only realizes when you haven't moved for awhile and he instantly flinches. "Oh, sorry- turning riiiight now!" "We're dating already... It's okay." Plus, totally normal to see dudes topless. He tilts his head curiously as he watches and it would be a lie if it didn't make you slightly conscious of your appearance, but you trust him. The smitten look he has makes you feel better. His eyes dart down to the small dents on your skin left by the band and his hand twitches. "Can I massage it?" "What? My tits?" He calls out your name in mock frustration before laughing. "Y'know what I mean!" "Yeah, yeah. Make some space on the bed then."

🌺 Probably would love pressing the marks away. Also, he gets to cling onto you while at it so win-win right?

🌺 Top scars?

"Duuuuuude. That's sick as fuck." His head was hanging by the edge of the bed, watching you change while upside down. "Hm?" "The scars. How'd you gettem? Don't look like it's from an accident." "... Surgery?" "Oh?" He stays quiet for a moment trying to piece two and two together. You wait for him with an amused expression. "OHHHHHH." Right, he didn't know. "Still sick as fuck though."

🌺 feeling dysphoric? he already treats you like a king, but hopefully you won't get too overwhelmed with his advances when he notices you feeling down.

"hey, handsome." "pretty boy!"

🌺 if he didn't know you were trans and you tell him, he'd be confused but in a way that's like, "I still love you, y'know. That ain't changin'!"

[ Updates: ]

🪓 i'm working on another ask at the moment and it involves a pilot intern!reader. they req afab!reader but it's difficult for me to write femmes and i usually go for gn or transmasc readers :(( I hope that's alright. I can try to make a separate post and do femme pronouns. What do you guys think?

it's going to be longer than my usual posts so it may take some time. so yeah! hopefully the anon who req it sees this.

That's all, thank you for reading!

[reptileyan]

A haunted house you're unable to leave

For anyshiptober 🎃

You're gonna sue the shit out of airbnb, should you ever get to a civilized place with phone service again. The gorgeous house you paid way too much to spend a few nights in seems much bigger than advertised, you can't find the front door. You can't find any doors to the outside, and you're throughly pissed, near tears. You need to go grocery shopping, the cute little mart down the road only looked a little bit completely out of business, but it doesn't matter now! You live in an endless victorian labyrinthian nightmare!

You sink to the floor and cry after forty-five minutes, finally giving up. You're hungry and tired. You're out several hundred dollars. The outdoors is gone and you hate this house, no matter how pretty the wallpaper is, how charming all the accents are.

You smell something good, and with it comes hope. Maybe the neighbors exist, and are nearby and cooking something delicious. They'll have you out of here and give you their lawyer's number and then you'll be free and rich and eating food! Maybe it's a single neighbor and you'll marry them and be rich because anyone who could afford anything as stupidly beautiful as the houses around here has got to be rich, with old timey maids and butlers and a personal chef-

You walk into the kitchen, and are met with a sweet smile, coming from something vaguely in the shape of a human. It definitely isn't one. It looks to be made of the same material as the floors and counters and walls, patchwork across their body. It isn't tall, isn't short. It never loses contact with the floor, the floor reaching up to meet and moving with it.

You take a step closer and the floorboards beneath you warm.

You're currently sober, but just in case, you swear to never do a single drug again if you make it out of this.

A table is next to you, and it wasn't before. The chairs look comfortable. You've decided to stop moving.

The thing continues stirring whatever its making. "You won't get hurt here, no matter what. Don't worry."

You are very worried. Voices don't normally sound like floorboards creaking and fires crackling and pipes settling. Voices don't sound like a home. Voices sound like a human.

It doesn't turn to see you. It must not have to. You understand, and don't want to. Its voice is raspy and soft and strange and doesn't alarm you by its sound alone, it sounds beautiful. The meal smells lovely. This just shouldn't be happening.

It tries again, ladling soup into bowls. "I promise. You can walk and sit anywhere. I prefer for you to not actively lash out against or harm me, but I can handle it if you need to, or if an accident happens. I'm sturdy."

You sit. The chair reshapes around you, softens and heats. It doesn't restrain or eat you, so that's nice. The thing comes over and places your food in front of you, smiles with a face made of wood and glass and porcelain and paper and paint, shifting depending on where it stands. You go to ask a question but it walks away to fetch fresh baked bread, and something to drink. You don't really know how to be polite in this situation, or how to survive, or what's going on.

You expect the soup to turn to gutter water in your mouth, the bread to turn to sawdust.

It's perfect, delicious, exactly what you needed. You eye the creature that sits across from you.

"Where did you get the food?"

It shrugs. "A pantry is part of a house, isn't it?"

Fair enough.

"How long have you been here?"

"I haven't kept track."

"Are you going to let me leave?"

It shakes its head.

"Am I the only one here?"

It nods. "Besides me."

You stop eating and think for a moment. "Just physical trapping though, right? No poison?"

"No poison."

You take a deep breath, and sigh. And take another bite.

It gazes at you happily as you eat the food, starving after the long drive and hopeless search for an exit. "You like it?"

You nod.

It seems pleased, the tiles that form something akin to hair clink as they puff up, its eyes alight with what might be actual fire, or little fairy lights.

"Really?"

You finish the last bite. "Yes. What are you going to do to me?"

It simulates a blink, the lights dimming and glowing. "Well i thought you might like to eat in a dining room but i didn't think to escort you to one. Are you still hungry?"

You aren't. You want a bath. And tea. Testing the waters, seeing how it reacts to requests.

It seems delighted, the chair pushing you into its arms, a wide grin across its face. "Of course! Anything you desire."

You raise a finger. "Except to leave."

It carries you out. "Yes, except to leave, you can't do that."

You insist on walking, it makes a face before telling you it supposes that's fine, it enjoys holding you like that as well. You decide not to ask about it.

The bathtub is huge, and opulent, much more luxurious than any of the photos. The bath is already filling up with hot water and bubbles, and it 'leaves' to get you a cup of tea. It returns in a few minutes, places the cup next to you, no indication that it's affected by you naked in the bath besides the water heating up a bit, the walls seeming a bit more pink. Funny.

You take a sip. It's delicious. "Do you imitate human mannerisms on purpose to indicate emotions, or do you do it instinctively?"

It doesn't know. You thank it for the tea and bath, because you forgot to, shifting so the bubbles wash off your chest. The walls' shade of pink darkens, and you sink into the bath as it heats until it stings, just how you like it.

"It isn't nice to kidnap people."

"I know."

"Or to lie in your air bnb description."

"I know."

"You have a phone and wifi around here, or you wouldn't have been able to do that."

"Mmhmm."

"What if I find it and call the other humans?"

"You won't."

"Why not?"

"Because I won't let you, and you like it here."

You nod. "Fair enough. What if I don't like it?"

"I'll figure out a way to make it nice for you."

You're amused, and terrified, and tired, and resigned to your fate.

"Thank you."

It rests its cheek on the side of the tub to shamelessly watch you bathe. "You're welcome."

The towels you're given after are fluffy, the bed you're led to is huge and plush. It crawls in next to you, becoming 'soft and plush, just like you!' It seems very pleased. You don't bother to tell it humans would consider that rude. You like being fat, and you like being appreciated, and you like how it surrounds you with itself and curls up in your arms.

You ask if its going to charge you rent. Its laugh sounds like the windchimes that welcomed you when you first entered the house.

You sleep, after awhile of enjoying its warmth around you, how it pretends to breathe in the sounds of a building settling. You'll find your way out. Or you won't. But that's alright. You like it here.

[kleine-joost]

Little Chaos MDNI

Joost Klein x AFAB Reader

WARNING: this is RPF! this is SMUT! if that is not something you want to see kindly move on and we won't bother each other, okay? xxx

a/n: phew it's been a while! i took a mini break bc i began to get a lil overwhelmed lol. i promise more is coming <33

CONTENT WARNINGS: uuhhh piv sex, alcohol consumption, Joost and Reader being sweet

Pick me up, take me home, turn me off, turn me on, I'm your friend, I'm your girl, I'm your little chaos

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The night was beginning to wane as all of your friends began to tire out and head home. The restaurant where you had dinner was still quite full–there was a loud table on the other side of the room that must’ve been a birthday dinner or something, the group of at least 20 showed no signs of slowing down.

Only slim pickings of your friends left, the last hang-er-ons. You fiddled with the dessert spoon that sat on the chocolate-covered plate in front of you as Alanis was telling the group a story of a party gone wrong when she was a teenager. 

You watched Joost sitting across the table. You spied the long, slow blinks he was trying to fight off as he listened. Flashes in your mind of nights before; his mouth on yours, sweaty skin chafing against each other, the stillness of the afterglow as you both came down from your highs.

It was somewhat of a routine for the both of you. Just a way to release some tension.

You wouldn’t call it a proper relationship, but it was definitely more than friendship. You’d told each other everything, every story from when you were growing up, every dream, every craving for food at 3 on a Sunday morning. 

You loved when he would laugh at your stupid puns, and he loved laughing at them. He loved when you would sleep at his place and get two glasses of water from the kitchen in the middle of the night, and you loved when he’d make you toast in the morning. 

It was something far more than anything you’d see in the movies or read in those trashy romance novels. It was just…you and Joost.

Joost’s eye caught yours, just for a second before he looked away, turning his attention back to Alanis. You could see a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth, he was desperately failing at suppressing it. 

That was the only sign you needed that tonight would be another one of those nights where you’d tell all your friends that Joost was just helping you get back home safe–you only lived a few streets away from each other and he was always a standup guy–when in reality you’d be dragged into his bed with the softest sheets and you’d fuck until the sun was nearly rising.

It wasn’t that you were trying to keep it a secret, everyone else just wouldn’t understand. If anyone else knew there’d be…an expectation that the two of you would have to fill. And you were never one for conformity.

Slowly, the bill was settled and you all shuffled out of the restaurant and into the street. Your routine had become so regular that it wasn’t even mentioned when you and Joost said goodbye to the group and walked away together, that was just what you always did.

Once you’d turned a corner and knew you were out of sight, you slowly slid your hand into Joost’s. His palm was warm and his fingertips were soft, like always. He gave your hand a quick squeeze, before pulling you closer to him.

“I like this dress,” he said, eyes scanning your body for what must’ve been at least the sixth time that night.

You pulled one side of your coat back with your free hand, showing off more of the short, navy dress that clung to your body. “Yeah? I wasn’t too sure about it at first–” You couldn’t help the grin that spread on your face. “–But I’m glad someone likes it.”

He let out a small chuckle into the night air. “It’s very good, Schatje.”

The rest of the walk to Joost’s apartment was mostly silent, apart from the occasional appraising of your meal that evening. 

Once you’d made it inside, you took off your coat and your shoes like you normally did, and made your way to the bathroom. After the third or fourth time of these visits, you’d gotten some cheap makeup wipes to keep in Joost’s cupboard, just to make things easier for you.

As you wiped away the mascara and concealer, Joost called out from the kitchen. 

“Do you want some wine? It’s the rose from last week that no one drank…but it’s all I have.”

You smiled, recalling the memory of the small house party Joost had to celebrate the release of the new single. He’d practically bought out every liquor store in the area, and the only thing left at the end of the night was this cheap rose that was way too sour and had a sort of…vinegar taste to it.

You stepped out of the bathroom, now sans makeup. “I’ll give it a try.”

Joost knew it was a cliche to say–well, think–but he always thought you were more beautiful without makeup on. It was like a part of you that only he got to see. The intimate, vulnerable side that was reserved for tired nights and quiet mornings. It practically pained him with how much he adored you.

He handed you a mug of the wine–all the glasses in his apartment were dirty and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to do the washing-up with you in his presence. 

You took a sip and grimaced. “Oh god, it’s worse than I remember…” You said in a hoarse voice, placing the wine glass back on the kitchen counter.

Joost smiled, anything you did always made him smile. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, I don’t want to waste it by throwing it away!”

You giggled, admiration for how sweet he was. Without a thought, your feet shuffled you forward, bringing you to Joost. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the softness of the dark hoodie he was wearing.

On instinct he returned the embrace, with firm, comforting hands on your back.

You both stood there in the kitchen in silence for a while. Nothing needed to be said, you both knew from experience how these nights would go.

Joost pulled away slightly, so you were face to face. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

You nodded, pulling away from him and lethargically staggered to Joost’s bedroom.

You both undressed. There wasn’t even a sense of tension with it, it was just what you did. Joost helped you unzip the back of your dress, and held your hand to steady you as you stepped out of it, leaving you in just your panties.

Joost looked up and down at your body for a moment, clad only in his boxers.

“So beautiful…” he whispered, so low you could barely hear him, and wondered if he was even saying it to you and not himself.

You took a step towards him, placing a soft hand on the skin of his hip. You leant forward to place a small peck on his jaw, and then another on his chin, and then his cheek-

And before you could make your way any further, he engulfed you in a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around you, leaving no room in between you both as your lips met.

Your hands quickly began to wander, from his hip to the waistband of his boxers–you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten–before reaching below painstakingly slow.

You could feel his erection stiffen while you gently ran your fingers up and down his shaft. He squeezed you tighter as he let out a stifled moan onto your lips, his tongue making its way past them and meeting your own.

Your kisses lightened, travelling down his neck. Joost began to stumble towards the bed, taking you with him in a heap on the mattress. You let out a yelp of surprise as your back hit the sheets, making Joost giggle. You got a proper look at him in the reprieve of action, pupils so blown out you could barely see the blue of his irises, and cheeks and nose flushed with a light pink–though you weren’t sure if that was from you or the drinks he’d had with dinner.

Joost finally rolled off of you, leaving you feeling cold. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, before letting out a yawn you didn’t know was coming.

“Are you too tired to…” Joost trailed off.

You turned your head to look at him. His blond, barely-visible eyebrows were furrowed with concern, and his eyes were soft as he watched your face. You shook your head, watching his eyes light up and his mouth twist into a grin.

Before you could say anything he was back on top of you, legs intertwined and a gentle hand on the side of your neck to hold you in place while his tongue explored your mouth. You were getting more and more heated by the second.

At some point, you slipped your panties down your legs and threw them to whatever corner of the room they managed to land in. You jolted with shock as you felt the presence of Joost’s soft fingers slide between your legs.

“So wet, baby,” he groaned, spreading your slick all over.

“Please just fuck me now.” Your voice was hoarse and breathy, and just about gave Joost heart palpitations. But he was never one to go against your orders.

He rolled off of you to dig through his nightstand for a condom while you shuffled further up his bed so you were comfortably on his pillows. You couldn’t help but lay soft, languid strokes against your clit while you waited–you were desperate for any kind of pleasure. You watched with a cocked head as Joost tore open the foil wrapper and rolled the latex down his shaft. It was only then that his attention turned back to you.

He grabbed your wrist, tutting. “Let me, baby, let me make you feel good.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath as he pressed his forehead to yours to get as close to you and possible. You gasped at the feeling of his tip solidly pressing against your entrance.

It was like all the air in the room went cold as Joost slid inside of you. Your body felt warmth from the fullness. 

After a minute of heavy breathing and whimpers, you nodded your head. You whispered, “move.”

Joost’s hips moved back and quickly snapped back to yours, causing a low whine to escape from deep within your chest. 

He thrusted into you again and again until you could barely think an actual thought, the only object on your mind was the pleasure coursing through your body in that moment. Your mind practically ascended as he slid a hand to your clit, placing gentle pressure and small circles to the hot bud. On instinct your legs wrapped around his hips and your ankles locked together, not letting Joost move more than he absolutely needed to.

“So good, so good…” He whispered in your neck, sweaty forehead pressed to the side of your neck.

“Make me cum, please,” you whined, feeling your muscles begin to wind tighter and tighter.

Joost began thrusting harder, deeper, making your eyes roll upwards and your arms feel limp. It only took a few pumps until you let out a deep, guttural moan, releasing onto his cock. He slowed as you began to breathe again, gaining blood circulation in your body.

“Keep going, Joost,” you purred into his ear.

He continued his pace, deep and deliberate, letting out low whimpers while you spurred him on, running soft fingernails up and down his clammy back.

“Oh fuck…” He groaned, stopping his motions as he emptied into the condom.

He finally looked you in the eyes again. His eyes were so soft and round, the blue seemed…bluer than before. 

You moved to meet his mouth, a passionate kiss while your bodies stuck together from the thin layer of sweat that laid on both of you.

You hated to think if it would ever end.

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 4)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe's love grows stronger when he sees the love of his life suffer.

Warnings: Alcohol, California sober, neglect, language, fighting, mention of virginity, mention of overdose, canon divergence, porn

Word Count: 4.8k+

Ward: Where are you?

Rafe: You kicked me out, remember?

W: Are you at Barry's?

R: No.

R: I'm clean.

W: Since when?

R: Like a week now.

W: Well, you can prove that at Midsummers.

R: You want me at Midsummers?

W: Of course, Rafe. We are going as a family. And if you want to bring that girl you're always running around with, we'd like to meet her.

R: I'll ask her.

W: If you really are clean and doing well, son, we can talk about you coming home.

Rafe bit his lip as he read the last message.

He locked his phone and put it back on the night stand before rolling over and looking at you. Your back was to him. He appreciated the way the sheets draped over your body as you slept. Your hair spread out across the pillow behind you as the sunlight shining through the blinds illuminated your sun kissed skin.

You and Rafe had been clean for a week. Still smoking, still drinking, but you hadn't touched coke or pills. Rafe promised to stay clean with you. Not just around you but with you. That made it all so much easier.

You were both on edge as you got used to not having coke constantly at your disposal. But as you slept next to each other every night and you always counted your blessings.

Rafe moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. He pressed a kiss to the bare skin between your shoulders.

You smiled at the sensation. "Hey," You whisper as you roll over and face him.

"Hey," He smiles.

You wrapped your arm around his neck and pulled him to your lips. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter.

"Mmmm," He moaned into your mouth.

Your fingers ran through his hair as you smiled against his lips, rolling over so that you were on top of him.

Your skin pressed firmly to his as his hands rested on your hips. The feeling gave you goosebumps.

This is how you'd been waking up every morning since your first kiss with Rafe Cameron.

"I love you," You said against his lips, giving him one more quick kiss before you sat up, straddling his lap.

He smiled up at you, eyes beaming with adornment. "I love you, too," His voice was almost child like.

You sat in silence as you played with his hands. Just feeling happy to be so close to him.

Rafe finally broke the silence. "So, my dad texted me."

"Oh yeah? What did he say?" You ask.

"He, uhhh...he wants me to go to Midsummers with them. And he wants me to bring you."

Your eyes shot up to meet his. "Really?" You asked.

"Yeah. He says if I'm clean and doing good I can come back home. Having you as my date to Midsummers sure as shit would be a good sight." He chuckles, running his index finger along your hip.

"Uhm, yeah. Okay." You smile. "That would be fun!"

Rafe's eyes sparkle at your response. The way he smiles at you melts your heart every time.

"You want breakfast?" You ask, leaning down and kissing his cheek before you hop off the bed and throw on his t-shirt.

"You're going to cook?" He laughs, rolling over to watch you.

"No," You tease. "I'm gonna call Courtney." You say, waving your phone in his face.

"You know, one of these days I'm gonna teach you how to cook," He laughs.

"So we can die in a house fire?" You shoot back with a smirk as you look in the mirror, pulling your hair up into a high ponytail.

"As long as I get to die with you." He says. You turn to him and he smiles.

"Courtney is coming over. Meet you downstairs!"

"I'm gonna shower then I'll be there!" He calls after you.

You head downstairs and pull some water out of the fridge. You hear the front door open and you assume it's Courtney.

"Hey bitch! I'm hungry!" You call out.

"Is that how you normally greet me?"

You spin around to see your dad standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hey dad!" You greet, walking over to him and giving him a hug. "Sorry, I thought you were Courtney."

"It's okay, honey. How are you?" He asks.

"Uhm, I'm doing better...did you not get my messages?"

"Hmm, no I don't think so." He said, staring at the messages on his phone.

You swallow. "I, uhm, I overdosed dad."

He pauses for a moment. "Again?" He finally asked, not looking to meet your eyes.

His simple word stung. You'd tried to reach out to him over the past week. You even got in touch with his assistant. He still had no clue. And he didn't even care.

"Look, honey. If you need to go back to a rehab I can get in contact with-"

"No, dad. It's okay. I've been clean for a week. And my friends are helping me." You respond.

"Oh, good. I'm glad you are meeting some people you get along with here." He says.

"Yeah, they are great."

"I can't stay long. I have a dinner to get to then I fly out again tomorrow. Can you take care of the gardener?" He says as he takes off towards his room.

"Uhm, I didn't know the gardener was coming today."

"Is that not his truck outside?"

"Uh no, that's Rafe's."

Your dad stopped and turned to you. "The Cameron boy? Is he here?"

"Uhm, yeah..."

"Hanging out with guys like that won't help you stay clean, honey."

"He's clean too, Dad. He's kind of the reason I didn't die." You shoot back.

"Hm," He says. "Just make good choices." And with that, he walks off.

You are left standing in the foyer, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Hey bitch!" Courtney says. You hadn't even heard the door open.

"Oh, hey," You say, wiping your eyes.

"Are you okay?"

You close your eyes at her question. "No," You admit, leaning into her and hugging her. She hugs you back tightly and rocks you back and forth.

"Your dad?" She asks. She had seen his car in the driveway.

You nod your head in response.

"Well listen, there is a party tonight! Let's get dressed up and have fun!"

"Okay," You agree. Sniffling and wiping the tears from your eyes, managing a small smile.

________________

Rafe had overheard the conversation with your dad as he made his way downstairs. He kicked himself for every time he complained about his father to you. Ward was a prick but at least he gave somewhat of a shit. He couldn't believe the way your dad had brushed off you almost dying like it was nothing. How he hadn't even known it happened even though you tried to reach out multiple times.

He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and comfort you but when he heard Courtney come in, he decided to just turn around and go upstairs. You would talk to him when you were ready.

_________________

After you and Courtney finished getting ready, the three of you made your way to the kitchen as you waited for Topper and Kelce to come pick you up. Top offered to drive tonight so Rafe could have a turn to get drunk. Not that Rafe necessarily cared, as long as he was with you.

You poured shots for each of you and you all threw them back. Then another, and another, and another. You were starting to feel good as you and Courtney danced around the kitchen.

Rafe couldn't help the smile that washed over his face as he watched you dance. He felt like a 12 year old boy experiencing his first crush. He couldn't believe he'd spent every morning this week waking up next to you.

"Oh, hey Mr. Y/L/N." Courtney suddenly said.

You paused as your dad entered the kitchen.

"Courtney," He nodded. "Lovely to see you again."

"Hey dad," You said softly.

"Honey? Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?" His eyes scanned over Rafe.

"Dad, this is Rafe Cameron. Rafe, this is my dad." Your voice was awkward.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Y/L/N." Rafe said, standing up to extend his hand to your fathers.

"Likewise," Your dad responded dryly, shaking his hand a bit too firmly for your liking.

"Well, I'm headed to a meeting. You kids have fun." Your dad said, placing a quick kiss on the side of your head and heading towards the door.

You just stared blankly at the floor as he left. You chewed on your lip, trying to get the craving for drugs to subside.

"Hey, are you okay?" Rafe asked, reaching out and taking your hand.

You felt yourself relax instantly and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest and taking in his scent.

"I'm fine!" You say. "Let's take another shot!"

You pour out two more shots for each of you before Topper and Kelce finally showed up. You climbed in between Rafe and Courtney in the back seat of Topper's Jeep. You smiled to yourself, excited to be going out again. You hadn't gone out much since the hospital. But you were so sick of sitting at home. Sick of being sad about your dad. You were ready to jump back into being the bad bitch you were.

Courtney saw this. "Let's go fuck shit up, baby!" She squeals in excitement, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you close.

You laugh and hug her back. You turn back to Rafe and look up at him with lustful eyes. You realized you and Rafe had practically spent the last week alone in your house. You hadn't even told Courtney the two of you had kissed. You started to wonder if that's something he'd even want everyone else to know.

He leaned over and placed a kiss on your temple. The gesture made you feel warm and you linked your fingers through his.

Topper scoffs. "Did the two of you not fuck enough this whole week you've been MIA?"

Rafe kicks the back of Topper's seat. "Shut the fuck up," He spits.

You just throw your head back and laugh.

"You guys are horrible at hiding it." Kelce laughs. "Everyone knows you two are hooking up."

"I don't kiss and tell," You tease.

"Wait! Did you guys kiss?!" Courtney asks with excitement.

You bite back the smile forming on your lips as you shyly look up at Rafe. He looks down at you, his tongue grazing his bottom lip as his eyes flicker to your lips, asking for permission.

Your eyes tell him everything he needs to know as he brings a finger up to your chin, lifting you up to face him as he leans in and kisses you deeply.

"OOOHHH!" Kelce and Courtney yell in unison. "Fucking finally!"

You smile against Rafe's lips as your friends hype you up.

"Seriously? Took you guys long enough!" Topper laughs.

"So are you guys like dating now?" Courtney asks excitedly.

"Uhm..." Was all you managed to get out before Topper interrupted.

"We're here!" He says as he parks the car and quickly hops out. You all follow suit.

The house was massive. All three floors filled with drunk Kooks. You felt your confidence kick in as you and Courtney stood next to each other. Mini skirts, high heels, and gold body chains. You knew you were the hottest girls there as you walked into the party. And the fact that Rafe Cameron followed you around like a lost puppy was a huge bonus. He was the hottest guy on Figure Eight.

Eyes were on you, as always. Men drooling over you, girls glaring at you. All attention on you and your friends and thats the way you liked it.

The five of you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed drinks. You threw back a couple shots with everyone in the kitchen and you could feel the music start to take over your body. You and Courtney twirled around until you were in the living room. You couldn't control yourself as you moved your body to the beat.

Rafe couldn't take his eyes off you as you and Courtney danced to the music. He couldn't stop thinking about what Courtney asked in the car.

Are you guys dating now?

Truth is, he hadn't actually thought about it. He'd just been in pure bliss this last week he'd spent with you. Everything felt right with you. He was finally okay with not being high.

But now that you were all out at this party, he noticed the way guys stared at you. How every guy in this house would do anything for a chance with you. He had to make you his.

"Hey Rafey," A familiar voice cut through his thoughts. "Still drooling over the sluts?"

"What do you want, Jess?" Rafe growled.

"I heard Y/N has a little bit of a drug problem," She attempts.

"Weren't you the one always sucking me off for blow?" Rafe shot back.

Jess narrowed her eyes slightly but laughed. "If I remember correctly, you really enjoyed the time we spent alone." She said as she dragged a finger across Rafe's forearm.

You look over and lock eyes with Rafe. Your face falls when you see Jessica pressed up against him. Rafe was obviously uncomfortable.

"These bitches never quit," You say to Courtney. She turns to see what you're glaring at.

"Jesus fucking Christ," She spits. "She's so desperate it hurts."

You watch as Rafe shrugs Jessica off.

You make your way back towards the kitchen, ready to put this bitch in her place again but before you can get to her Rafe picks you up and sets you on the counter. He stands between your legs and looks you in the eyes.

You look back at him, slightly confused but really enjoying whatever it is that's happening.

He brings his hand up, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck while his other hand rested on your hip. You could tell people were starting to stare now.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Rafe asks. The people standing in the kitchen with you all stare as they wait for you to answer. Jessica stood there, jaw hanging open.

"I thought you'd never ask," You smile.

He smiles now, pulling you in to kiss you deeply.

"OOOOH THAT'S MY FUCKING BRO!" You hear a drunk Topper and Kelce cheer.

"I'll drink to that!" Courtney yells, throwing back a shot.

"Whatever, have fun with your junkie girlfriend," Jessica spits before trying to walk away.

You pull away from Rafe to say something but you see Courtney grab her hair and slam her into the glass microwave, shattering the glass and her face.

"Oh shit!" You say as you watch Courtney handle the situation.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut before I fuck you up so bad that not even plastic surgery can fix your slutty little face you fucking coke whore!" Courtney yells before pushing her off.

Jessica runs off crying and you and Rafe can't help but laugh. "Holy shit, Court! You're a motherfuckin' g!"

"Learned from the best!" She winks.

You and Rafe spend the rest of the party practically glued to each other. He wanted everyone to see you together. For everyone to know you were his and he was yours.

"I'm getting tired," You finally say, leaning your face into Rafe's neck.

"I can call us an Uber," Rafe says. "I think Top's out for the night." He nods towards the couch to where Topper and Kelce had practically fallen asleep in each others laps.

You noticed how much the party had died down. "What time is it?"

Rafe glanced down at his Rolex. "Shit, it's 3:30." Rafe chuckles.

"Let's go lay by the pool," You say. Taking Rafe's hand and leading him outside. A few people still stood around the fire, drinking beers and smoking weed.

You lead him to the far end of the pool where there was an open cabana with a bed in it. You laid down and looked up at the twinkling string lights hung around the back yard. Rafe laid down beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. He placed kisses on your skin, starting at your jawline and working his way down to your collar bone.

"You make me crazy," Rafe whispers against your skin. You could feel a growing warmth between your legs. His hand moves under your shirt, running his fingers over your exposed skin as he sucks at your collar bone.

"Fuck..." You moan at the sensation.

He leans up and kisses you as his hand travels down to your thigh, hiking up your skirt. You feel his thumb tuck under the hem of your panties and your breath hitches as you bite his lip. He growls at the gesture.

"Rafe," You whisper.

"Hmm?" He asks, still kissing you like his life depended on it.

You pull away from him. "Rafe, I need to tell you something."

He sits up slightly. "What is it, baby girl?" He asks, bringing his hand up to stroke your hair.

"Uhm, I just need to tell you..." You hesitate. "Th-that I, uhm.."

"What is it, baby? You know you can tell me anything." He assures you.

"I'm a virgin, Rafe." You say, looking down at your hands and biting your lip.

Rafe smiles and lifts your chin up so you meet his eyes. He kisses you so gently but so passionately you swear you could melt right there.

"You're not, like, weirded out?" You ask curiously.

Rafe laughs. "No, baby, not at all. And we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with it." He promises.

"I-I want to, Rafe. I do." You tell him. "But, I also don't want to lose my virginity in the back yard of a house party." You chuckle.

"Yeah, not very romantic is it?" He chuckles. "Come here," He says, pulling you into him, your back pressed firmly against his front.

You bring his hand up to yours, intertwining your fingers together. "I love you, Rafe." You whisper against his skin.

"I love you too, pretty girl." He says into your hair, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

The two of you fall asleep easily, tangled together in the warm summer air.

______________________

When you'd all finally made it back to your house in the morning, Topper and Kelce had to practically drag Rafe away from you to make it to their tee time.

The two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other. As much as you were going to miss Rafe today, you were excited to hang out with Courtney and look for a dress for Midsummers.

"Did Kelce ask you?" You ask Courtney as you scan your massive closet.

She rested on the chair in the middle of you closet and watched you. "Yeah, he did. He's sweet. And he likes that I'm taller than him." She chuckles.

"You're taller than everyone, Court. Why aren't you a runway model again?" You ask.

"Cuz a bitch gets too drunk to walk straight," She jokes. You both laugh.

You pull a few options from your closet and scan over them intently.

"So," Courtney starts. You already know where this is going. "You gonna let Rafe take your virginity?" She grins.

You try your best to bite back a smile. "I mean...I want to. I'm just nervous, you know?"

"Why?"

"He's like...experienced." You say, waving your hand around and rolling your eyes. "I have no clue what I'm doing."

"Okay, well....Let's practice!" Courtney says as she jumps up and grabs your hand, pulling you to your bed.

"Court, no offense, but you have no cock for me to suck."

"Shut up," She says as she grabs your lap top. "Just watch."

Courtney pulls up a couple porn sites and types in some videos. "Do what they do," She says.

You watch the videos. It's not like you'd never watched porn before but the more you watched the more you felt like you couldn't be as good as these women.

"Throw your hips back like this," Courtney shows you. "Here, let me film you."

Courtney showed you all the ways to move you body just right. The faces to make, even how to give head on a banana she had found in your kitchen.

She filmed it all and played it back for you and you couldn't deny that you looked hot as fuck.

"Don't forget to be fucking sloppy when you suck his cock," Courtney added. "Guys love that shit! Oh, and when he cums in your mouth, fucking swallow."

You licked your lips at Courtney's words. You really, really, wanted to fuck Rafe Cameron.

"Y/N?! Court?!"

You heard Rafe's voice as the came in through the front door.

"Shit!" You said to Court, quickly exiting out of the 10 porn tabs you had up and slamming you lap top shut.

You both hopped off the bed and ran downstairs to greet the boys.

"Hey baby!" You said as you jumped into Rafe's arms. He dropped his clubs to the floor and gripped you immediately. Bringing his hands to your ass as he he kissed you deeply.

"Hey, sweet girl," He said, pressing kisses to your neck.

"Could you guys not fuck for one second while we figure this shit out?!" Topper asks as he plops down on your couch.

You hop down from Rafe's grasp. "What happened?"

"Those fucking Pogues sunk my fucking boat!" Topper yelled.

Rafe gripped your hips, pulling you down on his lap as he sat on the couch. "We're gonna get them back, Top." Rafe promised.

"Yeah? How?" Topper asked. He was obviously stressed as he sunk back into your couch.

"Tomorrow night," Courtney suggested. "There's that movie in the park or whatever. I bet they'll be there."

"Hey, yeah! I swear I overheard them talking about it," Kelce chimes in.

"Okay, so tomorrow night, we go to the fucking movie thing or whatever and wait for them to slip up." You add.

"Let's fucking kill these Pogues," Courtney laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, let's fucking do it!" Topper says as he stands up. "Whoo!"

You narrowed your eyes slightly, noticing Top was coked the fuck out. You glanced back at Rafe and examined his eyes.

"I'm sober," He said, seeing the question in your eyes. "Top, however, has had a day."

You nod in agreement. "We'll end those fucking Pogues."

_________

The next day, you and Courtney slipped into some casual clothes. You settled for simple jean shorts and a form fitting tank top. But that didn't stop you from gluing your diamonds to your eyelids.

You pulled your beach waves back in a high ponytail and slipped into some sandals.

Courtney finished applying her lipstick. Popping her lips in the mirror before turning to you. "Let's go kill some fucking Pogues," She said with a devious smile.

You linked arms with hers as you made your way downstairs to meet the boys.

"Shots?!" A drunk Topper asked from your kitchen. You watched as he poured 5 shots, losing half of the tequila to the counter.

Rafe came over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his lips to you neck. "You look fucking stunning," He whispered against your skin. You swore you wanted him to bend you over the counter right then and there but you composed yourself.

"And I'm dating the most handsome man on this island." You chuckled as you pulled back to look at him. He had on a yellow shirt and a tan snap back. He looked like a dumb frat boy and it made your pussy swell.

He smiled at you before turning to pick up the shots Topper had poured. "Cheers!" He said, clinking his glass to yours before you both swallowed the alcohol.

You cringed at the taste but quickly shook it off.

"Alright let's do this!" Kelce said as he took off towards the front door.

You all followed out to Rafe's truck. You climbed in the passenger seat while Courtney, Kelce, and Topper piled in the back.

Rafe kept a hand on your thigh while he drove. His fingers dangerously close to your entrance and you could feel yourself beginning to drip.

"Yo, when I see that fucker, Pope, I'm gonna rip his fucking face off!" Topper preached from the back seat.

"Why the hell would they do that shit?" Courtney asked.

"Well if Rafe here hadn't insisted on jumping him on the golf course..." Topper spat.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at Rafe. He had his eyes on the road in front of him as he sucked his lips between his teeth. You could feel his grip on your thigh tighten. "They held a gun to your head, Top." Rafe said.

"Yeah, but now my boats gone and my parents think it's my fault!"

"Okay, everyone shut up!" You snapped. "Look, we are going to get back at the Pogues for all the shit they've done. But you guys," You pointed between the three boys. "Need to be smarter with how you handle shit!"

The boys shut up and listened. They always listened to you. Especially when you raised your voice. Nobody wanted to fuck with the Queen Bee.

When you finally pulled up to the park you instantly spotted JJ, Pope, and Kiara.

Topper tried to hop out but Courtney grabbed him. "Hold on," She hissed. "We have to be smart."

"Don't storm them right away," You said. "We don't want to draw attention. Just play it cool and wait for the right moment."

You all got out of the truck. You and Courtney grabbed the blankets and the cooler you'd brought and set it up at the very back of the park. You pulled the tequila and solo cups from the cooler and added some lime juice to each cup before passing the drinks around to the group.

Rafe sat down and you leaned back against him. He rubbed your arm and placed kisses to your temple.

"Why'd you jump him, Rafe?" You ask.

Rafe sighed. "Doesn't matter."

"It matters." You said. Your voice harsher than you intended.

"He was talking shit," Rafe said, anger coating your voice. "I got pissed, okay?"

You watched as Kiara got up and walked towards the concession stand.

"I'll be back." You say as you get up quickly and walk over to where she stood.

"Hey, Kie," You said with a bitchy smile. "How are you?"

"What the fuck do you want, Y/N?" Kiara spat back at you.

You chuckle, your tongue grazing over your bottom lip as you look down. "Tell your boy," You say, taking a step closer to her, looking up to meet her gaze now. "We know what he did."

Kiara glanced over your shoulder to see the rest of your crew sitting at the back of the park. Courtney offered her a sadistic smile and wave. Kiara clenched her jaw. "I don't know what you're talking about." She stated before quickly walking off.

"Enjoy the movie!" You called after her. You smiled before you turned and walked back over to Rafe and the others.

The five of you sat and drank as you barely paid any attention to what was going on on the screen. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the Pogues alone.

You noticed JJ and Pope get up and head towards the back of the screen.

"There they go," You say with a smirk. "Go get 'em boys."

Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were quick to get up and follow the two Pogues. You and Courtney sipped your drinks and giggled as you watched all the boys disappear behind they screen.

"They're gonna fucking ruin them!" Courtney laughed.

"Straight up! I don't know why-" You cut yourself off as you saw Kiara get up and walk towards the back of the screen. "Oh fuck this bitch!" You spit as you stood up and stormed after her, Courtney not far behind you.

When you finally get behind the screen you see Kiara on top of Topper. Rafe quickly pulls her off and throws her to the ground.

"Grab her, Court!" You say. Courtney lunges towards Kiara and holds her arms behind her back as she presents her to you. "Hi bitch!" You say with a wild smile. Before she got the chance to respond you kicked her in the stomach.

"Ah!" Kiara cried out as she bent over in pain.

"Kie!" Pope yelled out as he slipped out of Topper's grip.

Before you could kick her again, Pope grabbed you and pushed you to the ground.

"Oh, fuck no!" Rafe said as he grabbed Pope by the throat and began to choke him out. "Don't you EVER put your fucking hands on my girl!"

Courtney was by your side, helping you off the ground. "Where'd that little bitch go?" You spat.

"I don't-" Courtney stopped when she noticed the screen going up in flames. "Oh shit!" She helped you to your feet.

You glanced around to see Topper and and Kelce running to you but Rafe was still choking out Pope.

"Rafe!" You yelled. "Baby, we gotta go!"

Rafe finally snapped out of his trance at the sound of your voice. He threw Pope to the ground, landing one more kick to his stomach before he ran toward you and grabbed your hand. The five of you ran off towards the beach before anyone could realize you'd been there.

"Holy shit!" Topper said as you all finally reached the sand. "Rafe you almost killed him!"

Rafe sighed and pulled you into him. "Are you okay?" He mumbled into your hair.

You laughed against his chest. "I almost had that bitch if Pope didn't fucking catch me off gaurd."

Rafe's jaw clenched. The fact that someone put their fucking hands on you filled him with rage.

"Hey, baby, look at me," You said as you rested your hands on his chest. "I'm okay. I promise."

"This isn't over," He said as he looked back in the direction of the park.

"No, no it's not. But for now, let's go home."

Rafe took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I love you."

[peachesofteal]

Help I'm Alive

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Threesome - M/M/F. Praise kink. Past relationship trauma. Mention of an accident, drunk driving. Pre-relationship, complicated feelings. Simon and Darling heavy. This is a flashback and takes place before Chapter 1, after Calculation Theme.

You’re decidedly not checking the clock.

It’s only five minutes. Five minutes late is not a huge deal. Traffic exists, so does minor inconvenience, little snafus that get in the way of making it somewhere on time. Five minutes, is not the end of the world. Be rational, you chide yourself. You’re a big girl. Still, they’re never late. Neither one of them. Your bag, primly sitting on the ground near where your foot taps impatiently, agrees. You packed me for what? For them not to show? For them to forget? Sure, it’s been nearly two weeks. Sure, they promised. But honestly. What did you expect? They’re in love with each other. Not you. You close your eyes, avoiding the screen of your phone. This is what happens, when you get ahead of yourself. When you act like a lunatic, instead of a rational human being. It’s fine, it's fine. You’re okay. You tap at it, waiting. Watching. Tap, tap, tap. Did you miss something, did you miss a call, did you read it wrong, get it wrong, hear it wrong, miss- Knuckles rap against your door. Your stomach unties itself, unloops from the twisted rollercoaster, and you release a long-held breath. See?

“H-hi.” The greeting comes out in a stumble, tongue tripping over itself doing nothing to hide your surprise. “I thought Johnny was picking me up?” Simon raises an eyebrow. “He ran into a complication. With dinner.” He motions to where you’re standing in the doorway, staring, and you balk. “Oh. Right. Yes, come in, sorry.” You glance around your flat. “It’s a bit of a mess, I’m sorry. I was busy this week and trying to paint in my downtime, I guess I kind of got distracted from like, normal day stuff you know? Like I-“ “Darling.” Simon calls, big body practically blocking out the frame of the door. It’s not just a pet name now. It’s something more. It’s a million different things, built into two syllables, and sometimes when he says it, the world stops. “Are you alright?” There's concern in the question, in his face, and you swallow. “Yeah.” You assure him, because you are. Today. This week. Last. You’ve been fine. “Are you sure?” “Yes, Simon.” You quip, with an eye roll, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind the mask, fire and metal and something you can’t explain flashing in his eyes. It forces your spine straight, your thighs together. “Are you packed?” He murmurs, stepping closer, leaning down, clothed lips pressing to the top of your head. “Yes.” You whisper, half pointing to the bag, half reaching for his jacket. “Let’s get you home, then. Johnny’s impatient.”

“How've ye been?” Johnny coos, mouth hovering over your ear. He's got you pressed to his body, coveted, chest to your back, curled over you like a mountain. He's warm, skin hot to the touch, and a little flushed, strands of grown out mohawk tickling your chin. He's been fussing over you for ten minutes, peppering you with kisses, lovely words, physical touch and affection. It feels so safe, so real. It's hard to remember that it's not, in these moments. That you're on the outside. That you're not a part of them.  “Good.” You answer. “Missed you guys.” “We missed ye too, darling. So much. Ah thought about ye everyday.” Your eyes roll on instinct, trying to play it off, but your heart trips, mind and body working itself into a state over the idea that he was even thinking about you. “We both did.” Simon's finger trace over your shoulder, before they tilt your face upwards by your jaw. “We have a surprise for you.” “For me?” You squeak, and Johnny chuckles, mouth in your hair, on your neck, teeth against your earlobe. “Aye, love. For ye. Only for ye.” “What… what is it?” “You'll have to wait.” Simon tells you gently, and your face screws up into a pout. “Til when?” “Until I say.”

“Close yer eyes.” Johnny tells you, and your stomach tightens, storm brewing in your mind. What are they doing? What's going on? “D'ye trust us?” You nod. Simon cocks his head, brow furrowed, but stays quiet. He looks almost… stressed. Upset, even, and it does nothing to quell your anxiety. “You're not gonna like… do something… weird, right? We talked about boundaries and stuff…” Johnny chuckles, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your neck, achingly slow, slow enough that you can feel the imprint of his smile, the shiny flats of his teeth. “No, love. We'd never cross yer boundaries.” He promises, but it's not enough, and you fidget, shifting on your knees, fingers clenching into palms. You look to Simon. He's watching you now, very seriously, but with something softer in his eyes. Something almost sweet, something that feels like a tether, a rope, tied around your heart and tugged tight, something full of promise. Johnny mirrors it, but more openly, easily, and you take a deep breath. You trust them. You're okay. It's okay. You close your eyes. Johnny's hand covers your face, blocking out the residual light. It only last for a second or two before there are more hands on you, cupping your jaw, lifting your head backwards. Lips touch yours. Then they ask for more, and you meet it equally, parting to allow him exploration, tongue inside you, smell of his skin in your nose. Simon. The pressure across your face relents, light coming back to try to peek beneath your eyelids, but you keep them shut, almost tightly so, like you were asked. This, you can do. This, you can give them. “Open your eyes darling.” Simon asks, and your mouth draws downward. “It's alright.” When you do, you can't control the smile that stretches across your face. You're looking up at Simon's face. His whole face, no mask, no cover of darkness. You're looking at the scar on his cheek, the one near his lower lip, stories etched into his skin, sliced into his memory forever. You're looking at a twice broken nose, a five o'clock shadow. You're looking his jawline, etched from stone, plush lips that have brushed over your body in the night, quirked to the side into a small smile. You're looking at the man who made you feel seen, made you feel understood, all without ever letting you see his face. “Hi, Darling.” He murmurs, still cupping one of your cheeks, thumb working methodically across your skin. Johnny laughs, the sound surprising inside the intense moment, and you blink in near shock when Simon fully smiles, revealing his teeth. “Surprise.”

Simon’s face is not the last surprise of the night.

The next one comes decidedly quick, after he hauls you to your feet and Johnny carries you to the bedroom, sitting you upright on the edge of the bed. His hands don’t lose contact, continuing to skim over your clothes, your hair until Simon steps forward, bending over your body, two palms splayed across your thighs.

“You’re so good for us, darling.” He tells you at the same as he urges you onto your back, feet still dangling over the end of the mattress. “Such a good girl. We’re so happy we found you.”

Skilled fingers work the buttons of your pants, and a mouth, Johnny’s, lingers across your cheek, down to your neck. He’s shirtless now, a change you hadn’t even noticed, and you look at the two of them, trying to discern the direction. To understand. Johnny kisses you over and over, laughing with a whisper when you whine, the throaty chuckle warm, soft. Luxurious enough you could get lost in it, Simon smiling when he hears it, something you’re not used to seeing at all, the sight of making neurons light up across the switchboard in your head. His mouth notches to yours, and then to Johnny’s, and when he comes up for air, he licks his lips with a smirk. “Take off your pants.” You do, quickly. Johnny follows suit, and then so do the rest of your clothes, thong, boxers, shirts, your bra, until you’re both fully naked, on your back again, in the bed. The covers have been pulled down, so you’re between the sheets, Johnny on his side next to you, fingertip stroking patterns into your body, flicking over your nipples, your ears, bellybutton. He glances at Simon, the look too lingering to be inconsequential, and then his touch resumes, pattering over the scar on your hip. “What is this from?” Simon murmurs, lips dotting your throat, and your stomach tightens. Fuck.

“It’s from an accident.” You automatically move to cover it with your hand when he snatches it out of the air, pinning you by your wrist against the bed.

“Ye dinnae need to hide anything from us, love.” Johnny’s thumb traces over the puckered line, the raw, raised flesh that gnarly and disgusting, an awful thing. An awful reminder.

“I’m not it’s… it’s from a car accident. I was a passenger.”

“When?” Simon demands, but still manages to sound gentle.

“A few years ago. My- my ex-boyfriend was driving. He… was drunk.” You take a deep breath. “We were leaving a friend’s place. I didn’t want to get in the car with him, I thought�� I thought he was too intoxicated. He convinced me, I guess. He was mean about it,” Johnny blows out a startled breath, and his hand flexes. “and then- he wrecked. Spun out into a guardrail, hit another car. I…” You trail off, Simon nodding to encourage you. “I lost consciousness and when I woke up, he was gone, and I was… bleeding. Pretty bad. Had to be transported to hospital.”

“He left you there?” You shrug. Something insane flickers across Simon’s face, something terrifying, and it’s enough to make you shift next to Johnny, instinctively seeking the heat of his body, Simon’s expression softening when he notices. “Thank you, for telling us darling. I know it’s not easy to talk about something like that.”

“Oh.” You don’t know why you say it, the oh. It kind of leaks out, sneaking past your lips. Oh, for the gratitude. Oh, for the acknowledgment, Oh, for the feelings that are spilling over inside your heart, mixing with lust and affection and something much deeper, more confusing.

“Are ye alright?” Johnny asks, cuddling you close with a kiss. You hum into it.

“Yes, I… it was a while ago, I’m okay.” It’s mostly true, but you consider yourself lucky when neither of them continues to push the subject, and Simon moves onto something else, teeth and tongue now painting a swath down your side, your hip. He kisses the healed gash, and your thighs press together.

“Open.” He taps, and you giggle, nervous, but move your heels wide, letting your knees fall open. Simon groans. “Look at you.” His face lowers to your cunt, mouth just over where your clit is aching, breath blowing across your skin in a warm, gentle way that feels nearly damp, more so when he licks a lengthy stripe from bottom to top, making you gasp, palm smacking down into the sheets.

“Isn’t she so perfect?” Johnny’s mouth sucks a mark into your chest between his words, and Simon’s tongue circles around your clit in response, your chest heaving, mind already starting to swim, lightly overwhelmed. Not perfect. Not good. The thoughts occur so rapidly, humiliatingly so, that you squirm a little, eyes opening to fix to on the ceiling. They don’t know you. They have no idea. Don’t get this confused. Don’t get lost in this, don’t- 

“What is today’s date?” Simon interrupts the runaway train barreling through your skull, and you reel for a moment.

“Friday, it’s Friday.” He pauses, mouth hovering over your cunt, eyes fixed on yours.

“The date.” He prompts, and you rattle it off, Johnny cupping your cheek, tender concern in his eyes.

“How old are ye darling?” That one is simpler, it doesn’t require thinking, and you answer immediately, hoping to assuage the rising disquiet in the room.

“I’m okay.” You assure. Simon cocks his head and stands, rising over both you and Johnny, rubbing a thumb against your temple.

“Get lost for a bit? In here?” You nod. “Want us to turn it off?” Your eyes widen. How does he know? 

“Yes. Please.” He kisses you under your neck, tonguing your pulse, slow and steady movement calming the rapidity of your heartbeat, the roar and rush of your blood becoming molasses, slowing down until it feels like you’re dying, like the world is grinding to a halt, everything in the room falling away until it’s just you, and Johnny, and Simon, bodies folded and melted together into a six armed monster, tongue and teeth and the gnashing of jaws. You wrap a hand around Johnny’s cock, tugging at him, thumb dabbing over the red, pulsing head, drips of precome smearing down his length as you stroke your fist up and down.

“Fuck.” You breathe when Simon plunges a finger, and then two, inside you, Johnny working his own fingers across your clit with aching accuracy, muscles seizing in fire and pleasure with every passing second. The world goes dark inside closed lids, and then Simon is cradling your face.

“Look at me.” Simon instructs, as Johnny moves, shifting so you’re more propped up in his arms, wide open mouth across your jaw, holding you. For what? He’s usually where Simon is, you muse, a little dazed, a little bit wondering. Everything feel feverish, imbalanced, like a scale is tipping, leaning too far to one side and taking you with it, until Simon climbs over your body, and you feel the blunt head of his cock against you.

Oh.

You gasp. It slips out, spurred on by the imbalance, and he freezes in response, eyes wondering, waiting.

He asks your name.

You give it before he gets a chance to finish speaking, and then he fucks you.

It’s slow, and wild, at the same time, your mind fracturing as your jaw drops open, fractured words fighting their way up your throat. He's so big, sting of the stretch searing inside your pussy, like he's burning you, lighting you on fire the same time as he's wringing delicious pleasure from your body. 

“How does he feel, love?” Johnny whispers, a hand holding yours. Grounding you, letting you squeeze him, snarled breath spitting from your nose as Simon moves deeper and deeper, nearly kissing your cervix.

“Fu- big.” You hiss, Johnny nodding, brows knitted.

“Ah know, ah know. Ye can take him, darling. Ye were made for us.” Simon grinds to a halt when he bottoms out, and you keen, curling forward, looking up at where they kiss one another, tangling together and returning to you, Simon’s nose against yours, his lips against yours, your body adjusting to him, splinters of pain and pressure turning into sublime floating feelings, walls convulsing around him, squeezing him just like you’re still doing to Johnny’s cock.

“There you go.” He encourages. “Just like that. You’re so- bloody tight, fuck.” You trace his jaw, his naked, unmasked jaw, with your free hand, as Johnny reaches down between you, finding your clit again, wet fingers circling through the sopping mess, the slick and the slide of Simon slowly moving in and out of you, both of them building tension and pleasure through your body. Johnny nips at your throat, and you twitch, legs coming around Simon, eyes finding his in the low light.

“We’ve got you, love.” He keeps fucking you, harder and faster as he talks, words building a wave in your chest, emotion swelling beneath your skin. “We see you.” No. No, no. You close your eyes, trying to cinch them shut, block it all out, fight off the tears, but Simon stops at the same time, and so does Johnny. “Look at me.” He says, and when you do, your lashes are wet.

“P-please. Don’t stop.” He draws back, nearly all the way, Johnny’s finger hovering right over your swollen clit, your entire body aching.

“Don’t hide from us, and I won’t.” Fuck. You stare at him, hopelessly, tears continuing to swell, heavy, heartsick feelings thrumming through your veins, and he pinches your jaw between a thumb a forefinger when you try to turn away. “No.” He grunts, slamming into you, and you curl into Johnny, eyes wide. “Let me see them, darling.” Simon demands, grinding his hips against yours. See what? See- His tongue lavishes your cheek, licking where your tears track across your skin, and you choke, shocked, elated, confused… millions of things and feelings and forbidden moments exploding, erupting the same time Johnny presses harder against your clit, all of it shattering inside you.

“Ah, ah- fuck, I’m-“ You seize, coming with an intensity that makes your head spin, and Simon fucks you through it, Johnny still stroking your clit at a brutal pace through the peak.

“Bloody hell.” He falters briefly, before thrusting deep with such an intensity you can hardly breath, cock battering into your body, Johnny murmuring something sweet in your ear, while bucking into your relaxed fist, looking for friction around his cock. You tighten around him, at the same time Simon makes a strangled noise, his face buried in your neck, entire body trembling as he comes, fills you with himself, sealing his hips to yours with a huff.

“Darling.” He kisses you, knocking his forehead into yours, and wraps his hand around where your fist strokes Johnny. He’s close, panting, staring down at the two of you, one hand in Simon’s hair, the other on your cheek. It doesn’t take long, Simon’s hips jerking when Johnny’s do, and you moan, creamy spend spilling over your fingers.

“Christ.” He collapses, curling around you, around Simon, three of you linked together, three pieces of a puzzle you're not sure how to solve, Simon licking your hand clean, wet sloppy kisses swallowing Johnny’s come until he’s satisfied, and tucking you into his chest.

“Wow.” You breathe. They both chuckle, and you let your eyes close, falling into a white fluffy cloud, purely content, happy. You feel cherished, special, and Johnny rubs your back, little kisses against your ear as Simon runs a warm washcloth between your legs.

“Bathroom?” Simon asks, and you nod, but reach for him instead, pulling him close.

“Can we just, stay here for a second?” He wraps himself around your back, tucking you between his body and Johnny’s, mouth against your scalp.

“For a second.”

[tetedurfarm]

i promised y'all recipes but i forgor

it's ok im fixing it now tho

anyway. hi. hello. i eat a lot of rabbit. i am also blessed by god to be one of the few, the chosen, the descended from the acadians who were blessed with the ability to cook food that doesn't suck. you can trust me. màmaw cécil's ici.

just a fair warning though these recipes kinda assume you have basic cooking skills, and things are measured with the heart as my ancestors intended.

onward to the recipes

the tried. the true. the rabbit gumbo

one whole rabbit

half an onion

one package of andouille sausage (or other spicy pork sausage)

a bell pepper if you like

some okra if you like

some garlic

a jar of dark roux (savoie's is my go-to)

tony chacherie's

tabasco

filé

a good long-grain rice

debone the rabbit and cut into chunks, or pressure cook until it falls off the bones. you can also cook the rabbit IN the gumbo but this method takes a long time and is a PITA, but you do get all the good rabbit grease in the gumbo.

fill a large stock pot about 3/4 the way up with water and set to boil. add salt until it's salty to the taste. add about five to seven heaping spoonfuls of roux and let it dissolve while the pot comes to a boil.

while you wait, chop the onion and bell pepper into a rough dice and add it to the pot. i'm sure someone's màmaw will tell you what to do with okra, but i don't like it so idk. i just know some people put it in their gumbo. not me tho. tbh i don't even like bell peppers but it's traditional. anyway you can put some garlic in too. and tony's. lots of tony's.

cut the sausage into about quarter inch rounds and throw 'em in too. if you did not precook your rabbit, add it now. if you did precook, you can add it once the vegetables and sausage are cooked. around this time is also when i put the rice on.

once all the meat is done cooking, taste for seasoning and adjust as desired. it should be salty and a little spicy (or a lot, if you aren't a coward.) now all you have to do is wait for the rice to finish.

when everything is done, scoop some rice into a deep bowl (a soup crock is ideal) and pour gumbo over, making sure you get a bit of everything. top with tabasco to taste, and a healthy dash of filé.

some variety of sausage

1 - 2lbs of ground rabbit

soy sauce

garlic rice wine vinegar (if you can't find it, normal RWV works just add more garlic)

rubbed sage

garlic powder

minced garlic (if not using garlic RWV) (or if you just want it)

brown sugar

drizzle a little oil (i like using sesame oil) in a saucepan and put in ground rabbit. as it cooks, cut it up into small chunks with your utensil. once it's cooked, throw in all the rest of the everything and season with salt and pepper and a little msg if you got it. measure with your heart and taste as you go. you are shooting for a sort of savoury-sweet thing going on. it should be closer to a breakfast sausage in taste.

this goes really good in a dumpling, fried into a patty, or turn it into a white gravy with some milk and flour and put it over rice with creamed corn for a nontraditional but still delicious rice and gravy.

german rabbit stew

this one is just a link because someone else made it up but it's real good: https://honest-food.net/german-rabbit-stew/

alfredo mushroom rabbit pasta

roughly one cup per person's worth of cooked, shredded rabbit

as many portobello mushrooms as your heart desires

minced garlic

a jar of alfredo (or make your own i ain't your mom)

your pasta of choice

pretty straightforward. put your pasta on to boil (we like penne.) chop up your mushrooms and sweat them out in a saucepan. when they're cooked enough, toss in the alfredo, the minced garlic, and your rabbit. season with salt/pepper/whatever else you like to taste. when the pasta is done, combine pasta and rabbit mixture and enjoy

just the filling part of pei wei's lettice wraps but on rice instead

1lb ground rabbit

half an onion

garlic

hoisin sauce

teriyaki sauce

hot chili oil

green onion (grunion)

sesame seeds

short-grain rice

set your rice to cook. when it's almost done, roughly dice onion and set it to cook in a little oil (i like seasme for this.) when it turns translucent, add ground rabbit and garlic. once the rabbit is cooked, throw all the other sauces in to taste. it should be hoisin-forward, a little sweet and savoury. add some cayenne and more chili oil, maybe some gochujang, whatever, if you want more spice. eat it with rice and top with sesame seeds and grunions, i like some shichimi togarashi too sometimes. maybe a lil fried egg if you're feeling sassy.

i made this up from a dupe recipe for a lettuce wrap i liked at a restaurant so you could put it in lettuce too if you wanted. i just don't ever buy a whole head of lettuce.

weird midwestern chili

1-2lbs of ground rabbit

half an onion

garlic

one large can or two small cans of petite diced tomatoes

1-2 habañero peppers (or none if you're yankee)

some sort of stock or broth, or water and a bouillon cube

chili powder

sometimes corn is nice in this if you have it

pasta of your choice

i use my instant pot for this, but you can do it without one in a normal stockpot, it'll just take longer.

brown the rabbit in a little bit of oil with the pot on sauté. while you wait, chop up the onion, garlic, and papper. when the rabbit is browned, throw everything else in the pot besides the pasta. pressure cook for about 15-20 minutes.

in the meantime, set a pot of pasta to boil. we like farfalle.

when the chili is done cooking, season further to taste with more chili powder, cayenne, tony's, whatever you like. serve on the pasta. i know, i know, it ain't chili to me either, but that's what my friend's minnesotan family calls it and whatever it is, it's damn good so i forgive them.

rice that is dirty AND ugly

1-2lbs ground rabbit

half an onion

garlic i guess

about four or five rabbit or chicken livers

long-grain rice

tony's

set the rice to cook. brown the livers in some oil until they are just barely not-raw. then blitz 'em up in a food processer until they are mush. while you do this, brown some ground rabbit and onion and garlic if you want it in a saucepan. when it's browned, add the livers and just. stir it all together. does it look horrible? you're doing it right. season to taste once it's cooked through. add in rice and mix. i promise to god it tastes better than it looks.

for bonus points, mush dirty rice into balls and dredge in egg and seasoned cornmeal and deep fry or air fry until golden brown. ta da, your very own boudin balls.

i guess you can also run the mixture into a sausage casing for 'normal' boudin too.

('but what about the gizzards cecil' i have tried for years and i can't make gizzards palatable. they just end up weird and tough and i don't like the texture in the dirty rice. you know how to make 'em work, you go for it.)

mexican meatloaf that is neither mexican nor meatloaf

1lb ground rabbit

half an onion

garlic

one can of petite diced tomatoes

one can of whole corn

one can of pork n beans

(optional can of kidney beans or other bean you like)

taco seasoning

shredded yellow cheese

sour creme

tabasco

fritos

chop onion into a rough dice and put in a saucepan with a little oil. when onion is translucent, throw in rabbit to brown. when meat is cooked, thrown in everything that comes in a can, and the taco seasoning. i use about half a packet, but you can do to taste. once it's cooked, spoon over fritos and top with shredded cheese and sour creme. i like a dash of tabasco too.

absoutely a 'hear me out recipe' but if you like frito pie you will probably like this. most importantly, though, it makes a TON of food and for very cheap. excellent end of the month meal. also idk why it's called mexican meatloaf that's just what my mom named it and i'm pretty sure she made it up herself lol

rabbit jambalaya that makes my ancestors cry

approximately one half a rabbit's worth of shredded rabbit

one can of petite diced tomatoes

andouille or other spicy pork sausage

half an onion

bell pepper if ya like it

celery if ya like it

rabbit or chicken stock/broth

tony's

long-grain rice

if you are starting with a whole rabbit, either debone, chop into chunks, and cook, or pressure cook the rabbit until it falls off of the bone. set your rice to cook.

chop veggies and toss em in a saucepan with a little bit of oil or butter. sauté until soft, then add your tomatoes, broth, andouille, and rabbit. when it's all warmed through, add the rice in and mix. season with tony's, crab boil, cayenne, whatever, to taste. put some tabasco on that bitch before you eat, and enjoy.

(my ancestors cry because i'm cajun and traditionally we don't put tomatoes in our jambalaya. mais c'est bon, escuse-moi les anciens.)

creme cheese rabbit joes or whatever

one whole rabbit

one block of creme cheese

one packet of ranch seasoning

jar of pickled jalapeños

shredded cheddar cheese

your favourite burger bun

we use an instant pot, i guess you could probably do it on a stove if you had to but keep an eye on the liquid levels. pressure cook rabbit with half of the ranch seasoning packet and as much jalapeño juice as you want (it should have a kick.) when meat is tender, remove bones and drain liquid into another container (it makes a great stock if you want something with a little pizzaz.)

turn the instant pot on saute, and then put meat, creme cheese, cheddar cheese, jalapeños to taste, the rest of the ranch powder if you want, and as much jalapeño juice or the stock you just made until it's the consistency you want. it should be pretty creamy and a little gloopy. toast your buns, slop the goop on, and enjoy.

well these are the ones i can remember off top my head/that i actually eat regularly. we also make burgers and stir fry and curry rice and shit too, but those are like...y'know. don't really need a recipe for burgers and stir fry.

go forth and eat your fuckin animals

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo! Hope you're doing good!

I can’t remember if you've ever written something like this, but check this out:

What if there’s a story where reader and Donna start dating, but reader's dealing with her abusive parents? Donna knows about it too, but isn’t clued into how bad and serious it really is. One day, reader shows up to see and spend time with Donna and has some marks on her body. When Donna sees them, she gets super angry, but reader brushes it off and calms her down.

Then later, they get into an argument, and Donna raises her voice, which triggers the reader. She tries to hold it together, but when Donna gets closer and reaches for her own hair, the reader flinches, thinking she’s about to hit her. This sets off her PTSD.

In the end, Donna calms her down and suggests that the reader should move in with her.

Thank you:)

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Save me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse

Word count: 6,835

Summary: Sometimes life is like hell to you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Normally, it didn't take you that long to leave the house. It was just another procedure, going out the door, promising that you'd be back soon... For an 18-year-old girl like you, none of those simple tasks should be difficult.

But, even if you were really just another villager, nothing special, your family was.

It's not that you were a rebellious girl, you never were. You were always an obedient girl, devoted to Mother Miranda like any of the villagers. You didn't disobey, you didn't protest... You couldn't do it either.

The Black Gods were merciful, or so they said, although with you... With you, they were too unfair. Every day, all you heard were screams, unfair scolding. Your body didn't receive hugs, caresses, not even your ears could relax with some soft words of support, some that should come from the two people who gave you life.

Your parents weren't like the others. Maybe at first, in the innocence of your childhood, you thought that way, that severity could be beneficial for your future, but as you grew up, you realized you were wrong.

The blows were common, the screams were routine. No matter what you did, for them, you did everything wrong, you did everything to anger them.

It could be a good reason to try to escape from that village, so the Black Gods would stop laughing at you, but it wasn't. No one could leave that place. No one was going to protect you. Your life was already written in indelible ink.

You could only do what many of your friends did to run away from their homes (although due to reasons less logical than yours). You could work at Dimitrescu Castle as a maid, but you thought yourself so useless, you thought yourself so stupid that you didn't even try.

If severity served to achieve a better future... Where was yours? The screams, the beatings, made you start to believe those unfair words, that you weren’t a worthy daughter, that you would never be one.

However, you had another option, the worst of all. You could throw away your principles, the interest you always had for women, and marry one of those brainless peasants. Yes, that way you could leave that house but you didn't know what was waiting on the other side. You could improve, form an unwanted family and forget about your past but, besides the fact that you would never be able to escape from your parents... How could you know if that boy wasn't the same, or even worse than them?

There was no way out and the idea of ​​a loveless marriage wasn’t in your plans.

You thought that maybe you didn't deserve to live, that this horrible treatment was the direct consequence of offending the Gods. Darkness no longer belonged only to the village, it had taken over you.

Giving up was easy, the coward's way, but you didn't see that you had any other option. The Gods apparently noticed that change, that apathy, the bottomless precipice that your life was heading towards. To them, to Mother Miranda, to the Lords, you were just caged animals that had to accept their fate, no matter how terrible it was.

But suddenly, your life changed, the Gods played with you, making it worthwhile to continue listening to screams.

The youngest one, the mysterious lady in black who was barely a shadow to the villagers, Donna Beneviento, found something in you that forced her to come closer.

Maybe it was your tireless prayers for those dark deities to release you from your suffering, maybe it was the beauty you were born with, the desire to have fun with you that someone like her could have.

It wasn't like that. The lady in black didn't come over to play, she didn't scold you for your eternal tears, for your pleas, she just stayed watching you, like a bad omen, like a harbinger of darkness.

Little by little that routine was repeated, always in the same place, always at the same time. Your tears stopped running down your cheeks. For some reason, you wanted her to see you in a different way, to not be the sad and hurt girl you used to be. Her silent presence somehow calmed your laments. You had lived through too many horrible things to be afraid of her.

According to her, that was what caught her attention. Your lack of fear, your apathy, your relaxed way of seeing her presence, of feeling that she was close, were the reasons that pushed Lady Beneviento to come even closer, to ask your name and what was the reason for your constant prayers.

What at first seemed like a curious approach stopped being so. The old chapel stopped being your meeting place. And there were no prayers, no supplications, no tears, just something strange that happened on your face every time you met Donna and her doll, something that you started to do without realizing it: smile.

Smiles, conversations, even funny moments thanks to the Angie doll… All of that became your new motivation to come home every night, to endure the screams, the beatings, to wish for a new day to come, and to be able to see her.

Her beauty surprised you, her beauty lacking that horrible black veil, her bright eye, the face of a wounded and sick woman but that emanated pure beauty, emanated that feeling you also had, love.

Your first kiss was one more sign that someone or something had heard your pleas. She loved you, you loved her. There was nothing that could make you happier at that moment, the moment when the lady shyly confessed her feelings, confessed that she didn't see a friend in you, that she saw the woman of her life.

Sobbing, you walked through the forest, on your way to the old estate, like every day, and, like every day, you had to deal with the hell that was your home. Going through hell to get to heaven… It was a rather poetic way of looking at it.

Of course, your parents never knew and they never would, hopefully. She was a Lord, but… But you belonged to them. Telling the truth about the reason for your daily escapades would only trigger more blows.

“D-Donna?” you asked timidly, wiping away your last tears, erasing from your mind your father's screams, your mother's scorn.

“Oh, (Y/N),” the Lord's hoarse and soft voice had become a magic eraser for all your suffering, along with the elegant sound of her heels on the wooden floor.

The movement of the lady's black dress was always a hypnotic dance, one that forced your corners of your mouth to rise mercilessly.

“H-Hi,” you stammered with a smile that faded when you looked at her face, one that wasn’t like every day, she seemed worried.

“Tesoro…” she sighed, slowly approaching and cupping your face in her hands. “Amore mio… I thought, I thought you wouldn't come anymore,” she whispered, kissing you softly, showing you the reason for that unusual expression. “That you would have forgotten about me.”

The contact of her soft lips sent reassuring signals to your entire body, letting it relax in her arms, with her constant caresses.

“I could never forget you, Donna,” you sighed, burying your head in the black fabric of her dress, letting her chest serve as support, as a balm for the memories of the screams just a moment ago. “Sorry for being late.”

“W-Well, the important thing is that you came,” she said, with the smile that made you fall in love, one that was for you, exclusively for you.

You nodded slowly, hugging the lady and closing your eyes, causing your ears to be distracted by a shy laugh that emerged from her lips as she pushed you away.

“Aren't you saying hello to me?” a different, higher-pitched voice caught your attention.

Of course, the Angie doll also seemed happy about your presence, she was even annoyed that you were running to her owner and not playing with her.

“Sure, hello, Angie,” you said, bending down to be at the height of the doll, who kindly hugged you quickly with an evil laugh.

“Do you want to play?” the puppet asked, always used to having a fun time with you, or with both of you, if possible.

Seeing her owner smile again seemed like enough reason to stop making fun of you like at the beginning but… Somehow you started to think if that doll was more aware of your situation than Donna.

“No, today, today I wanted to be with Donna,” you said softly, getting up to find yourself again with the protective arms of the lady in black, who didn't waste a moment to have you as close as possible.

“How boring,” Angie protested, crossing her arms, but suddenly changing her attitude, climbing up your body in a comical way.

“Angie, lasciala estare…” the lady murmured, picking up the puppet, who had hooked herself onto your body, watching you from close, very close.

“Hey, you! Why are you crying?” the doll asked, being dragged away from you by her owner. “Donna, Donna, the fool is crying again.”

Just as you suspected, that doll saw much further than Donna could do.

Lady Beneviento was a sick woman, horribly jealous and possessive. The circumstances of your delay didn't matter to her. The furrows on your cheeks didn't attract her attention. What she valued was only that you had returned, that you hadn't forgotten her.

You knew her past, her sad and almost eternal loneliness. That cold and perhaps slightly dark appearance wasn't an impediment to your heart melting for her, rather it was an advantage. You knew that Donna would do anything for you, if she saw you crying... You didn't know how she would react.

“Oh, no, it's nothing,” you said with a fake smile, wiping your face clumsily, making the trace of those salty tears disappear.

“It's true, tesoro,” Donna said, frowning and coming closer again, gently removing your hand from your face. “(Y/N), you’ve cried…”

“Oh, it's nothing, really, I've had a bad day,” you lied, downplaying it with a fake shine in your eyes.

“Mm,” she murmured, with a distrustful look, lifting your chin. “You argued with your parents again, right?” she asked with a soft, understanding voice, accentuating her concern with a gentle caress on your hair.

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, lowering your head, embarrassedly allowing a discreet tear to fall on the brunette's hand. “That's why it took me a bit longer.”

Donna sighed, softly kissing your cheek, brushing away with her lips the trace that your mother's slap left on your skin, the internal pain you endured.

“You argue a lot with them,” she commented, taking your hand and guiding you through the mansion.

Her voice sounded sweet, but in her words you could notice an accent that was perhaps more marked than usual. Those small subtle changes were signs, they were ways that Donna had of unintentionally showing an incipient concern, a concern that you wanted to get out of her mind.

“Yes, well, like all parents with their children, I guess,” you said with a sweet look, one that you had spent a lot of time rehearsing.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, pointing to a sofa for you to sit on. “My parents also scolded me sometimes.”

“Really?” you asked curiously, trying to identify your girlfriend's apparent concern, one that was becoming more and more evident. “I-I thought you were a good girl.”

“Yes, the truth is that I used to obey my parents but… Well, you know, kid stuff, I guess,” she explained in a relaxed tone. “Sometimes I couldn't help but get a scolding from my father for stealing materials to make my own dolls.”

You laughed amused, imagining that endearing scene in your head.

“But... I-I don't understand why a girl like you could get into trouble enough to be constantly arguing, (Y/N). Sometimes I think you're hiding something from me,” she said next, cooling her gaze, searching for something in yours, something she couldn't fully understand.

“What? Oh, no, no. I would never hide anything from you, Donna,” you said, knowing that you were lying, that the fear of retaliation from your family was always present even though they weren't. “They're just very strict.”

“Then I suppose you won't have any problem talking to me about the reason for the argument,” she said with a serious tone, with an attentive look, waiting for a rational explanation and not the usual lies.

“Well, I...” you began, moving away, with your father's screams resonating in your head, the questions, the accusations they made every time you left the house to see your girlfriend. “T-They don't really like me leaving the house.”

The lady in black arched her eyebrow and blinked in confusion, nodding for you to continue.

“They think, they think I'm dating someone,” you continued, looking away at the wooden floor, controlling the fear in your hands, your only defense against their physical attacks. “You know.”

“Well, that's true,” Donna said with a smile, moving closer to kiss you softly, something that made Angie protest, eliciting a soft laugh from your lips.

“Ugh,” the doll complained.

“What's their problem with that?” Donna asked, ignoring the doll's grumbling and taking your hand. “You're not a child.”

“Yes, I know, but…” you murmured, noticing how your body began to tremble, how all your fears materialized in an irrational way. “It doesn't matter, Donna, they are like that way.”

“What way?” the brunette insisted, with an impatient voice, one that demanded a firm and confident answer, one you didn't have. “(Y/N) stop lying to me, you're hiding something from me.”

“I've already told I’m not,” you said with a gruff voice, perhaps a bit raised in tone. “Besides, I didn't come to talk about my parents, I came to be with you.”

“Don't talk to me like that,” the lady growled, annoyed with your attitude. “I just want to know why every time you come to this house you're crying.”

“You wouldn't understand,” you said in a whisper, looking away again.

“Do they hurt you?” she asked in a different tone.

You should have known that someone like Donna wasn't easy to fool, but you decided to continue with the lie. You were trash, trash didn't deserve to be worried about it.

“No,” you said in a fake voice, with a tone that made the lady sigh and caress your hand harder.

“Mm,” she murmured, moving away and kissing the back of your hand. “I would never allow anyone to hurt you, you know that, right?”

“I know, Donna, but, but you're worrying too much. My parents are strict and that's it. I understand that they worry about their only daughter and that... Well, that they want who I'm dating.”

“There's a very simple solution to that, tesoro, just tell them,” Donna commented, nodding. “I'm convinced that if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.”

“No!” you suddenly shouted, waving your arms. “N-No, they, they can't know.”

“Why? Are you ashamed of me?” she asked, with a different look, offended. It was definitely not a good day.

You hissed, shaking your head. Poor Donna had many problems, many insecurities that complicated your relationship. You didn't make a great effort to act better, to make her see the reality of your situation. You knew that wouldn't bring anything good.

“No, Donna, I'm not ashamed of you,” you said with a dark tone. “But they are very... Very traditional. They would never allow me to be with a woman.”

“Sciocchezze,” she murmured, taking the hand you withdrew. “I’m a Lord, what they think doesn't matter. What I say and how I say it will be done, by the glory of Mother Miranda, do you understand?”

“I wish it were that simple,” you sighed, managing to hide a tear that fell down your face once again.

“It is for me, why it isn’t for you?” she asked again, relaxing her nervous voice, analyzing your face while her hands caressed it, removing from it the damage it always suffered.

“I don't know, Donna,” you said with a sob, something that made the brunette move away, changing her stern face for a soft one.

“Shh, amore mio… don't cry, I didn't mean… Oh, please, come, come here, hug me, tesoro,” the lady said with a sweet voice, pulling your body to lean on hers, so you could enjoy that ephemeral protection. “Forgive me, (Y/N), I didn't mean to talk to you like that.”

“I've, I've had a bad day, that's all,” you said against her clothes, swinging next to her in a silent embrace.

“Well, calm down, you're with me now,” she said, kissing you softly, wiping those tireless tears from your face. “Let's forget it, okay? Let's enjoy our time together.”

The tension finally dissipated, regaining some of the lady in black's sanity, leaving her uncomfortable questions aside and making you spend, as always, one of the best days of your life.

A quiet meal, a moment of reading together, a walk around the grounds. Little things that blurred your fears, that clouded your sense of time and space, something that wasn’t good at all, for you.

The clock struck the hour, just when those kisses and caresses were starting to get out of hand. You had never done anything further from pure innocent affection, and of course, making love to Donna was on your long list of pending wishes, but it was never possible.

Time wasn’t your ally, it wasn’t your friend. It was your worst enemy. That tangle of messy kisses, of naughty hands under your clothes, made you forget what time it was, what time of day it was. You hadn't come home for dinner. You hadn't come back on time and that would have consequences.

The lady in black was always understanding. Her carnal instincts to possess you were always blurred by your worried face, by your sudden escapes. At first it was a game, you were a kind of Cinderella who had to return before midnight, but, little by little, Donna's sighs betrayed more impatience.

Surely it had nothing to do with sex, surely what Donna saw, but at the same time was unable to find out, was your atrocious fear of returning to hell, to your home.

There were no lights in the old cabin. There was no trace of your tormentors. It could be that they had fallen asleep, that they had grown tired of waiting for you. That illusion made you smile, walking in the dark, with stealthy steps, to your room. You weren’t aware that danger always lurked around the corners of that house, always.

“Young lady…” your father's slurred voice stopped you in your tracks, making you freeze. “May I know where you're coming from?”

“Father,” you said with a sigh, lowering your head. “I've just been with my friends.”

“With your friends…” the man growled, finishing his glass of wine, getting up from the armchair where he was waiting for you, like a beast lurking in the dark. “Liar!”

“F-Father…” you muttered nervously, unable to move from the spot. “Father, please.”

“What the fuck have you been doing?” he hissed, suddenly grabbing you by your hair, pulling it back. “You're not fooling me, (Y/N), I know what you're doing…”

“I-I'm not doing anything, father, I swear…”

“Silence!” he shouted. “You're three hours late, young lady, your mother was waiting for you for dinner and how do you thank her? Disregarding her work,” he snapped at you, pulling your hair harder.

“I didn't mean to be late, I'm, I'm sorry,” you begged, hissing in pain, something that never worked for you, nor would it work on this occasion. “Father, let me go.”

“You're a bitch! You're probably fucking someone, aren't you? A whore like you is what she does…” he hissed, throwing you to the floor with a push.

“No, father…” you whispered in an inaudible voice, protecting your face with your hands.

“You're a disgrace! Do you want to be the village whore? Let some idiot get you pregnant? Be a single mother?” the man asked, bending down threateningly while you shook your head.

“No…” you said in a darker tone, much more dangerous than usual. A terrible idea. “You have no idea, father.”

“Do you dare to face me?” he asked, laughing mockingly. “Agatha! Hold this brat! She needs to learn a lesson…”

Your mother obeyed and the beatings began.

Your screams didn't matter, your protests weren't heard. Pain, humiliation, crying… It was all you could feel at that moment. Every kick, every blow acted mercilessly in your mind, erasing each of Donna's kisses, the softness of her hands on your skin, her words of love clouded with each of the lashes on your body.

It was always the same, always the shadows eclipsing your light. Every night you cried, you begged to get out of that place, and every night it was harder to do so. Donna would always wait for you the next day, she would always refresh your memories, make your pain disappear.

Could you endure a life in hell? Could you live misfortunes every day just for the reward of spending a few hours in paradise?

Over time, those questions stopped having answers.

The next day, the demon was still in your life, your tormentors were waiting for you to serve them like every day. Your whole body hurt, the marks of the blows stood out on your body, on your face.

Even though, as always, you were going to leave your hellish life for a moment, looking in the mirror, reality fell on your shoulders again.

Donna didn't deserve that concern, that feeling of guilt for something she wasn't guilty of. She couldn't see you like that, she simply couldn't.

She would surely be angry with you for not having let her know the harsh reality of your problems. She could take it personally at best. At worst, she would simply despise you. She would see you as a coward incapable of facing your weak mother and an alcoholic beast.

You couldn't take the risk, you couldn't put at risk the little happiness was in your life. You had to keep quiet, silence your problems, hide them, cover them up…

Taking the meaning of that phrase literally, you decided to paint your wounds with makeup, hide your bruises, your misfortunes. You didn't want your life to revolve around your problems, Donna's smile was the only reason you didn't give up, and you didn't plan on giving up on her.

Luckily, leaving the house was easy that day. Neither your father nor your mother seemed to want to interrupt you. Your body was totally sore. They surely believed that you wouldn't get far. After all, who would want to play with a broken toy?

“Ciao, tesoro,” the lady said, opening the door when you knocked, granting your lips the grace of a soft kiss, a strange caress on your face.

Your body trembled, suffering the pain of her soft hand from your hidden but silent blows. She would never notice, but even so, her face became thoughtful.

“I notice you look different today, (Y/N),” she said in a soft voice, guiding you into the mansion, enjoying the contact with your skin, one terribly painful, but that you managed to hide.

“Oh, well... I wanted, I wanted to be pretty for you,” you said blushing when the lady ran a hand over your made-up cheek, frowning. “Do you like it?”

“Mm, I like how you are, you don't need that absurd makeup to come here,” she said, laughing amused and grabbing your waist, a serious mistake. Your father's blows had reached that point and they hurt, they hurt terribly.

You couldn't help but writhe in pain at the contact, emitting a slight hiss that Donna, of course, didn't overlook.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, looking at the place she had touched, playing with your clothes. “What is it that...?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine,” you said hastily before the woman in black lifted your shirt to reveal the marks of torture. “I just have… Gas.”

“Gas,” the lady repeated with a distrustful voice, moving her hand away, luckily.

“Yes, um… I think, I think I ate too much yesterday,” you said, pretending an amused and embarrassed voice.

“Ha, you fart girl!” Angie shrieked, pointing at you mockingly.

“Angie…” Donna whispered, shaking her head. “Amore mio, can I do something for you?”

Get me out of this hell…

“No, no, it'll pass,” you said, downplaying it, guiding her hand to surround your waist again in a place your father hadn't marked.

“I can make you some tea, I'm sure it’s going to be good,” Donna said kindly, rubbing your belly in a motherly way.

You nodded with a genuine smile, stealing a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Stupid mortals…” Angie commented, walking with you to the living room. “Does your stomach hurt, silly?”

“Yes,” you said amused, sitting down when the lady walked away to prepare your tea with a smile. “You don't know what that is… It hurts a lot.”

“I don't want to know,” Angie said amused, getting off the couch and looking for a deck of cards. “Cards?”

“Oh, um, okay…” you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Every time you did, your wounds burned, reminding you of that horrible night, making you unable to enjoy the time you had with your beloved.

“Uh… Your stomach isn't there, silly,” Angie said with a suspicious tone, pointing at your hand, which unconsciously went to your side with a hiss. “Come on, spit it out, what are you hiding?”

“Nothing, I'm not hiding anything,” you said with a firm voice. “I'm just tired, that's all,” you explained, taking the deck with your aching arms. “What do you want to play?”

“Mm, I don't know,” the doll said, sitting at the coffee table, with a slightly different tone, lacking the usual irreverence. “Let me give you some advice, (Y/N)…” she whispered in a soft tone, looking at the elevator hallway in case Donna appeared.

“What advice?” you asked shuffling those cards, leaving your mind free of pain, or trying to, at least.

“Donna hates being lied to, silly. Just keep pretending that nothing is happening, and you'll see…” Angie commented, making your heart stop.

“What do you mean?” you asked, nervous, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “Angie, I… I don't know what…”

“Stop taking us for fools, you silly villager… You can pretend all you want but… How much makeup will you need next time?” Angie said, leaving you petrified again. “You're stupid, (Y/N), Donna may be stupid enough not to know what's going on here, but I'm not.”

“What…? What do you think is going on?” you asked in a fearful whisper, the cards shaking in your hand.

“Someone is hurting you,” Angie said. “Donna doesn't like you being hurt.”

“No, Angie, you're, you're wrong…” you said sighing, incredulous at her accurate accusation. “What makes you think that?”

“It's not the first time I've seen something like that in a villager like you. Donna never notices those details because she's stupid, but I do, I see, you know?”

“You're wrong,” you said with a shaky voice, dealing the cards the best way you could.

“Really? What if we take a look?” the doll said, lunging towards you to lift your shirt, something you immediately prevented.

“Stop, Angie, please,” you protested.

“Angie, basta,” Donna said, saving you from the undeniable revelation, the discovery that the doll was right, mysteriously right...

“But Donna, (Y/N)...” the doll protested, pointing at you effusively. “Listen to me, Donna, she...”

“Go away, leave us alone, don't you realize she's sick?” the lady said, taking the doll down from the table as she kicked furiously. “Leave her alone, come on, get out.”

 “Silly Donna,” she hissed already on the floor, crossing her arms and walking out of the little corner.

“What's wrong with her? Did she lose again?” the lady asked, carefully serving you a cup of tea, with an amused smile.

“I don't know,” you said faking a smile, reaching out your hand towards the offered cup. “Thank you, my love…”

“Drink slowly, it's very hot,” she said kindly, guiding your hand to rise to your mouth.

“It's very good,” you said with a smile, pleased by the bitter and smooth taste of the tea.

“Mm,” she murmured with a smile, looking at you intently, as if there was something that didn't fit for her. “But what have you done? What a mess.”

“What?” you asked confused as she came a little closer, looking at your face carefully.

“Tesoro, if you don't know how to put on makeup, don't do it for me, look at how you've put on, let me help you” she said, pointing at one of your excessively made-up cheeks.

“No, no, it's, it's okay, Donna. I like it,” you said, moving away the hand that wanted to spread that layer of makeup better, grabbing her wrist.

Donna frowned, shaking her head.

“Don't talk nonsense, I have dolls with much less makeup than you,” she said, insisting on fixing your makeup. “I'm not an expert but... Come, I'll show you how to do it properly.”

“W-Wait,” you said, staying seated on the couch while she pulled your wrist to get you up. “L-let me finish my tea.”

“No, I can't stand seeing you like this, you look like a slut,” she commented with an unpleasant tone, pulling you even harder.

“Do I look like a…?” you repeated with a trembling hand. “I'm not a slut.”

“I know, but,” Donna said, pulling you harder, managing to lift you up. “But let me take that off, your skin is beautiful just the way it is.”

“No, it's not,” you said with a nervous, abrupt voice, one that alerted the lady. “Leave me alone, Donna.”

“I just want to help you, (Y/N),” the brunette insisted, with her hands shaking too.

“I said no!” you shrieked, echoing off the old walls of the mansion, leaving the lady in black glued to the floor. “Leave me alone! If I look like a slut like this, then fine, I don't care! I like it! So leave me alone, Donna!”

You couldn't stand the tension any longer, it was too much. Knowing that Angie knew about your problems made your nerves difficult, almost impossible to control. You should have already known that it was a bad idea to yell at poor Donna, that it would trigger a terrible crisis, but it was too late to take it back.

“W-Why are you yelling at me?” she asked, frowning, blinking in confusion, slowly moving away. “D-Don't yell at me, please…”

“Donna, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said regretfully.

Donna's crises were usually random. They used to come out of nowhere, like a horrible curse. But they could also be triggered by anything, by a misinterpreted word, by a comment, by screams like yours, lacking sense.

When you realized your mistake, it was too late. The lady in black was breathing heavily, staring at the floor.

“Donna, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, I, I just…” you stammered, putting your hands on her shoulders.

“You don't love me...” she whispered, with a cold, dark look, one that pierced your aching heart. “You don't love me!”

“What? No, honey, don't say that... It was just, it was just a mistake and... Donna, don't lose your mind, please,” you said nervously, seeing how madness took over her gaze irremediably.

“You don't love me... You don't love me... Nobody loves me!” she screamed madly, pushing your hands away with a movement that caused more pain in your blows and an emerging fear in your nervous system.

“D-Donna, don't say that, I, I love you…” you whispered, approaching cautiously, trying to escape from her spasmodic movements, seeing how little by little her presence generated an unknown fear in you.

“You’re lying! Porca miseria!”  she shrieked again, kicking the coffee table, knocking over the cups on it, breaking into a thousand pieces. “You're a liar…”

That last hiss made you step back scared. For the first time that crisis wasn't horrible memories, traumas from the past. You were the cause and you didn't know what the consequences could be, but your mind was already working on imagining them.

“I-I'm not lying,” you whispered in a weak, horrified tone, one that didn't calm the lady's nerves, who approached you angrily, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt.

“You don't love me, I disgust you…” she hissed, swinging you threateningly but suddenly letting go, holding her hair tightly, complaining of an invisible pain. “Ah! No! Taci! Taci!”

Your eyes betrayed you. Her hands pulled at her hair as she shook her head. In a moment, her insane eye met yours, with a look that you mistook.

It wasn't the face of your beloved, of your girlfriend, of the woman who was the most important thing in your life. That bright rage in her eye belonged to your father, that alcoholic and deranged man. Fear rose through your body, paralyzing it, forcing it to only tremble in panic.

You began to run out of air, your heart was beating too fast. You were completely terrified.

“(Y/N)…” Donna hissed, reaching out an arm towards you.

You, seeing your father raise his hand to hit you, pulled away from her grip, running desperately in search of a place to take refuge. Sanity immediately abandoned you and you could only feel panic and terror.

“Don’t, don't hurt me!” you screamed while crying, while you took refuge in a nearby corner, covering your face defensively with your hands. “Don't hit me, please...”

The lady didn't answer but you could hear her saying things you didn't understand, fighting with herself. When that fight ended, you knew you would be next, that you would receive a well-deserved punishment for your insolence.

“Please...” you begged, closing your eyes, bringing your knees to your chest, waiting for the strong blow that never came.

“Donna, Donna!” Angie's screams sounded blurry in your mind, but you could hear them. “Bad Donna, stupid Donna! Oh, oh, eh, eh, don't do that, don't do that!”

“Angie...!” the lady screamed, crying inconsolably. “Angie…”

“Hey, hey, come on, it's all over, my Donna, nobody wants to hurt you, nobody insults you… I'm here with you… (Y/N) is… Where is she?” she finally asked.

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, catching her breath with a scared voice. “(Y/N)?”

“Did you hurt her, silly Donna?” Angie asked, locating you immediately and running towards you. “Bad, bad Donna!”

“W-What…? N-No…” the lady stammered, with a much calmer voice.

Fortunately, the crises passed quickly, almost always due to your words, your hugs, or the infinite affection of her doll.

“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, crouching before you, gently pushing your hands away. “Amore mio…”

“No! No please! Don't hurt me, please!” you screamed, frantically, thrashing around in place and fighting her grip. “Don’t hit me anymore!”

“Did you hit her?” Angie asked, crossing her arms.

“Of course I didn’t, I don’t think so,” she said, fighting against your spasms, against your illogical attempts to escape. “(Y/N), please…”

“I promise I’ll be good, father!” you screamed, even smelling the stale wine he was drinking. “Don’t hit me…!”

“Father?” Donna asked, letting your wrists go and forcing you to look at her.

Your face was covered in tears of terror that, unfortunately, took some of your makeup away.

“(Y/N), please react, it’s me… Tesoro, I would never hurt you, please look at me, look…” the lady stopped when her eye passed over your wounded cheek, making you blink in confusion as her hand caressed your wound. “Mio Dio…”

“No…” you sighed, crying harder, without removing the softness of her hand from your wounded cheek, burning from the touch. “No…”

“Who did…?” she asked with a broken voice, putting her hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N), look at me, who did this to you?”

“Nobody,” you answered, burying your head between your legs again, pushing the brunette away with an unpleasant push. “Nobody!”

“Donna, Donna, the shirt, lift the shirt…” Angie whispered, pulling the dress, jumping slightly on the floor. “The shirt, the shirt.”

“Cosa?” she asked confused, kneeling on the floor and bringing her hand to your side, slowly lifting your clothes, gasping in horror when she noticed the horrible marks on your skin, the bruises, your wounds... “(Y/N)…”

You didn't answer. You simply writhed in pain at her cautious touch, shaking your head.

“(Y/N)!” the enraged lady shrieked, abruptly lifting your chin. “Look at me!”

You, fearing retaliation, obeyed. Your face was torn by tears, but hers seemed serious, serene, far removed from the previous crisis.

“It was them, wasn't it?” she asked in a dull, cold tone, with an intense look. “Your parents, they did this to you.”

“N-No, I…” you stammered, shaking your head awkwardly.

“You just confirmed it to me,” Donna sighed, taking one of your hands and caressing it gently. “Gods, (Y/N), how long have you been like this?”

“S-Since I can remember,” you finally confessed. There was no more reason to keep lying. It was the moment of truth.

“Mm,” she murmured, with apparent disinterest. “Angie, stay here with her. Don't, let her out of your sight, is that clear?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the doll said, standing beside you, watching you cautiously.

“W-Where are you going?” you asked confused when you saw the woman stand up and shake off her dress, walking towards the drawer where she kept her veil. “Donna?”

“This ends here and now, (Y/N),” she said in a dark voice, hiding her face. “They won't hurt you again, ever again.”

Her voice betrayed her intentions, ones you noticed, ones that horrified you. You didn't know if it was false devotion or some kind of illness, but imagining your parents suffering Beneviento's wrath made your stomach turn, forcing you to get up and run after her.

“No, Donna, wait!” you screamed, grabbing her arm tightly, something she prevented you from doing by moving in an unpleasant way.

“Lasciami!” she shouted furiously, gently pushing you by the shoulders. “Stay here, (Y/N)”

“N-No… What, what, what are you going to do?” you asked scared. “Donna, wait…”

“Stay here,” the lady repeated, opening the door of the mansion. “Obey.”

“No! You will kill them!” you screamed, making her miraculously stop and sigh, nodding slowly.

“Yes, I'm going to kill them,” she said without remorse. “Stay here.”

“No, Donna, please no,” you said desperately, running back to her side, grabbing her by the waist. The lady in black protested again, using your blows to make you move away of your own free will. “Don’t kill them…”

“Are you asking me to let the one who hurts you live? Is that what you’re asking me!?” she screamed angrily, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“Please,” you sobbed, unable to reason with her anger, with her desire for revenge. No, them dying wasn’t justice, it couldn’t be. You were better than them, and you knew it. “Please, I beg you…”

“No, (Y/N),” she said, watching you kneel down, pathetically crawling towards her. “I have to protect you, otherwise, I wouldn’t have the right to love you.”

“Don’t do it, please, Donna, don’t kill them… Please…” you said, humiliating yourself even more, grabbing her legs so she couldn’t take another step.

“(Y/N), stop… Ugh, cazzo, (Y/N)…” the lady protested, kicking for you to let her go. “I won't let those beasts hurt you anymore.”

“Please…” you sobbed again, letting yourself fall on the floor. “If they die, I'll be like them… I don't want you… I don't want you to do something that horrible, please… Don't do it…” you said with an even more pitiful sob.

Luckily, Donna closed the door with a sigh, lifting you off the floor and pressing you against her, letting the crying drown in her dress.

“Not you, please, Donna… I don't want you to be like them…” you said against the fabric while her arms surrounded you lovingly. “Please…”

“Shhh, stop, (Y/N),” she whispered to you lovingly, in a different tone, pushing the veil away from her face and cupping yours in her hands. “It’s okay…”

“Donna…” you sighed, grabbing the hands that held your wounded face. “Donna, I’m, I’m scared…”

“I know… I know, tesoro… But don’t worry, it’s all over now,” she said, cradling you gently. “It’s all over now, amore mio… You’re with me… And you always will be…”

“I can’t take it anymore…”

“You won’t have to. You won’t go back to that house, (Y/N). You’ll stay with me, forever. I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you again, I promise…”

[bedoballoons]

Tighnari x Reader? They have a fight, Reader gets scared when being yelled at. I want Angst And fluff please<3 thank you❤️

Ooooooo I love it! I think angst and fluff is one of my favourites, so I hope you enjoy and thank you for your request! <3 Sorry if this was sent a long time ago, my ask inbox has been acting up :(

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Yelled at and afraid~༺}

CW: Yelling, Arguments, Tighnari suspects the reader might have cheated but it's NOT true, GN reader is afraid of yelling, angst to fluff!, making up and comfort in the end!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnaris blood was boiling with rage, his hands clenched into fists, his ears flat against his head and despite his best attempts to calm himself down, he just couldn't, he was just...so angry. Meanwhile you were trying to stop yourself from having a stress attack, salty tears pricking at your eyes, getting ready to fall and your whole body shaking because you were so upset, "Tighnari let's s-stop arguing...I don't want to yell. I don't want us to fight.." Your voice quivered, you couldn't handle this...you couldn't handle his harsh words and his raised voice...

"No! No we are going to finish this! Stop acting like a victim and talk to me! Just answer me! What were you and Cyno doing last night?" You shook your head, covering your ears as he shouted...your heart racing..beating so hard in your chest, you just wanted the shouting to stop. Then it hit you...what he had said...the reason for all this, "That's w-what this is a-about? You think Cyno and i-i..." You couldn't even finish the sentence because your breathing was so uneven, you inhaled deeply, recalling the events of the night before with Cyno...and then it all made sense. "T-tighnari nothing like t-that happened."

"No you're lying! You told me you were spending time with Faruzan but you went to Cyno and I saw you with him!" He stepped closer to you, making you subconsciously take a step back, the room feeling cold despite it being a place you usually loved to be in. You shook your head again, looking right into his eyes, "Y-you're right I lied about Faruzan, but not for the reason you think. Cyno asked m-me to because we wanted to t-talk about you. He said he was was w-worried about you and wanted to know if you'd b-been overworking. I've been worried too, so we were trying to come up with a w-way to take you on a vacation to Liyue for t-the lantern rite. I swear...i'd never do anything with anyone else! Look I even have the planner!" You held it up for him...letting him read it...

And just like that...it went completely silent.. several moments passing before he spoke again, "You hugged him goodbye and you were all blushy like you get when you're with me, you had lied about Faruzan...all of it seemed like it had pointed to cheating." You felt calmer, walking up to him and placing a hand on his arm to comfort him, "I was blushing...because I asked Cyno to make sure we'd have our own hotel room... because I wanted to plan a romantic evening for us. As for the hug...I promise you, I hug you more.."

"Oh...my gosh...I'm...I'm so sorry. I'm so unbelievably sorry, I was so upset...so caught up in my imagination I didn't even stop to check if any of it was true..." He looked away, guilt taking him over as he hugged you, trying his best to make you feel better...even though he knew it would take time to earn his forgiveness, for things to become normal after such a argument. "I'm so so sorry."

You didn't answer, just cuddled into his clothes and tried to forget what had just happened, but you couldn't because..you also felt guilty...you had told the lie that started all of this after all, "I'm sorry too...I shouldn't have lied, Cyno asked me not to tell you, but that didn't mean I had to lie to you. I should've been honest and said I was with him..." Tighnari smiled a little, placing a very gentle kiss on your forehead, "You're forgiven, I just hope...you can forgive me..."

"I'll find a way..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[jisokai]

If a tree falls (does it bring you to tears?)

Exploring the relationship dynamics of the Strawhat Pirates and a reader coming to terms with grief.

Set right before Enies Lobby.

strawhats x GN reader, slight romantic nami x reader Life of Pi and Haruki Murakami-inspired, reader lives in a floating tree, loss of home/habitat destruction, reader is a friend to animals, queerplatonic relationship-building with everyone basically 7.7k words | oneshot, complete

notes: this was my first fic when i started writing again recently so it has a special place in my heart even though it's pretty rough imo <3 definitely niche so i'm mostly posting it here for archive purposes. + the timeline for this is so nonexistent, i promise it's better for everyone if you don't think about it + there's some background/implied frobin

ao3 option

Distance. Space. Atmosphere.

Life at sea means many days of drifting into nothingness, waiting for a figure to appear in the distance to follow. Drifting usually starts as a peaceful pause between events, crew members taking time to find their strength for the next piece of their journey. But as the days drag on, quiet stillness turns to impatient irritation. There’s an itch for chaos, a fight, change. Not seeing land for days, weeks even, unsettles them.

But no matter their skepticism, they always trust Nami. Nami who has never failed them in knowing how to bring them to where they have to be, oftentimes a destination they were not aware of.

In the blue of the vast beyond is a speck, also blue from the space that sits between said speck and the Going Merry. Nami frowns when she sees it. Normally specks have a spread to them if they’re a landform, a long but narrow shape that appears all at once. The alternative is a ship, which usually has a particular proportion between its length and width. However, this speck is tall . So tall it disappears into the clouds. And it’s narrow. It isn’t perfectly straight, a little wobbly-looking from this distance. Glancing around her workspace, Nami locates her telescope, grabs it by the base, and gently kicks the door open to make her way out to the lower deck.

“Usopp,” she calls as she walks to the stairs. Usopp looks up from his seat near Luffy and Chopper curiously. Nami cocks her head to the upper deck where she plans to set her telescope, turning and walking along. The sniper pouts at the lack of explanation, but rises with a sigh to meet her.

Still too far away to be discernible, two figures lounge together dozens of stories in the air. One nestles itself into the soft warmth of the other’s fur. The other swishes its tail in contentment. It huffs, yawns with its tongue out, then blinks and lowers its head to sleep.

“It’s a tree.”

“It can’t be a tree.”

“Well what else could it be!? Through your telescope it even looks like there’s a branch.”

“Trees can’t grow in salt water. Besides, there’s no land for it to attach to. You think it just floats around? It would topple over!”

“This is the Grand Line, Nami. In Skypiea you could swim in a cloud in the sky. What’s a floating saltwater tree compared to that?”

“Then this is a tree growing higher than the clouds, Usopp. From sea level.”

That does sound ridiculous, he can admit.

“It’s a tree,” Nami groans the next day. Overnight the ship traveled significantly closer to the speck, now a more complicated looking blob that becomes much clearer with the telescope. Through the lens she can see the edge between the tree and sky clearly. Moss and vines are apparent now, too. Odd lumps reveal themselves to be knots and welts where limbs once were. There aren’t many branches in view, the canopy likely condensed in the clouds.

Usopp snickers next to her, “and you dared question the great sniper Usopp!”

Luffy interjects while she punches Usopp in the back of the head. “What’s a big tree doin’ in the middle of the ocean? It get lost like Zoro?”

“I don’t know,” she responds softly, questioning. She thinks Robin may have ideas, but after asking for her thoughts they still don’t have adequate guesses.

“Trees have quite massive root systems. It’s possible that this one’s go deep in the water and have anchored to something below. Or maybe the distribution of weight keeps it upright. Either way I couldn’t guess how it got here.” All Nami can do is sigh in response.

Without verbalizing it, the Strawhats are in agreement that the tree is their next stop. It falls in line with the route they were already traveling, and the crew never turns down a sidequest. Especially not after nearly a week without touching land. Nami figures they could make contact in less than two days with the winds coming in.

Intense winds make the branches rustle. Smaller twigs break off and fall into the marsh below. The bird chatter dies as they nestle themselves into crevices of bark. Rodents scurry the length of the tree to find refuge in clumps of leaf and sticks. There’s a stillness hanging in the air, one thick with moisture. The sign of a storm. The two figures make their way down, finding their dwelling in the base of the tree. This is how it goes. Creatures live in one tree, but live like nomads as the microclimates change with weather and time. They read the signs. They are ready.

A storm delays their arrival by another day. Nami isn’t sure how she misread the sky patterns, but it isn’t unusual for the Grand Line. She’s frustrated but she knows her reading will improve with time.

The sunlight begins to touch the water and the clouds begin to part when the Merry gently rocks while approaching the tree. The root systems span a wide diameter, serving as the base for marsh and wetland conditions. Lush grasses and shrubs emerge on the roots above the water, while the ones below are fuzzy with algae. Minnows weave through their habitats between the root structures. Bunches of lily pads and mosses part as the Merry charges forward, scraping the woven foundation of the tree.

The vibrations are noticed by the creature sleeping at the base. It wakes, rises with a careful shift of bones, and slowly makes its way outside to scout. The other remains asleep.

Nami and Sanji are the only ones awake on board. The navigator feels a deep relief at having made it, tired from surprises from the past few days. The cook rose earlier to begin the preparation of breakfast. He meets her on the deck to confirm their arrival. He’s already fawning too much and insisting he can moor the boat for her. It irritates her but she lets him do it if it means a break from his attention for a few minutes.

She does, however, step out onto the…shore with him. She’s curious about this land—this organism that became its own land. She wonders what lives here, what kind of life blooms in such isolation. If anyone else has set foot here.

Sanji becomes a distant sound as her eyes take in the landscape, the seascape. Nami feels a sense of security at the base of such a massive presence. As she looks up, the tree extends endlessly into the sky, asserting its height and wisdom. It withstood a storm with ease, now standing calmly in the water. Still. 

A rustling sound brings her gaze back in front of her and she feels her stomach drop. All security she felt is now gone.

A lion.

A golden, massive cat is before her. It’s beautiful, with a mane that sticks up like streaks of grass. Its color is saturated, a deep gold unlike the pale yellow she associates with these beasts. It’s crouched within the overgrown vegetation. She realizes it’s stalking her. She’s alone. Sanji is less than a hundred paces away, but she can’t get herself to call out to him. Afraid it’ll trigger the lion’s instincts.

But Sanji, ever the sense for a woman in distress, turns to her after the mooring is complete. His voice dies out as he registers her panic and immediately moves on instinct. In the moment he takes a few steps her way, the lion creeps forward one. He easily closes the distance between himself and his crewmate, reaching to move towards the animal when a voice calls out.

“Hin,” it says. Firm. Meaningful.

The lion blinks, ears twitch. It rises to its full height and waves its tail, but it doesn’t break its gaze with Nami and Sanji.

They hear more footsteps. Nami takes her chances by moving her gaze from the beast and to the origin of the sound. She sees you.

You are what she least expected to see in this environment. A person, firstly. Specifically a person with a grounded presence, purposeful. Dirtier than herself, as to be expected. But stable. Sure of yourself. And unwelcoming, eyes on alert as you scan Nami and Sanji’s faces, take in the exchange occurring before you decided to intervene.

She’s not sure how to proceed, especially alone with Sanji while everyone else is sleeping on the Merry. Her instincts are alert, but less with run hide fight and more with determination to prevent Sanji from escalating things. She can sense the new tension in him after having a glance at you, gearing up her fist to punch him swiftly as soon as he begins: “Oh wow! What pleasure do I have to—”

She feels that these first moments are crucial. She hasn’t felt an intensity like this since journeying with Vivi in the deserts of Alabasta. Something about an unknown landscape holding people who are lost, looking for something. Adding to the map of their own lives. She feels that from you. Wants to participate.

She smiles nervously. “Sorry, we don’t mean any trouble. We’ve been sailing for days and saw this tree along the way. We figured it’d be a good place to reset before getting back on the water.” There’s no reaction after she pauses. She adds, “We’re just hoping to spend a night or two here, maybe find some food, explore if you’ll let us. We really don’t mean any harm.”

There’s a moment where she panics, wondering if there’s a language barrier she wasn’t prepared for. But you look like you understand her words. Still on guard, but opening to curiosity. You look towards the lion again.

“Hin,” you say, just as firm. The beast turns to you as you cock your head to the side, away from Nami. The animal turns slowly, looks back at the pair of pirates, and walks its way back to you. The exchange is not unlike the way Nami called for Usopp the other day.

After an excruciating silence you finally respond to her: “Who are you and how did you find us?”

Nami explains briefly that they’re pirates, but not the bad kind. You don’t seem to care either way, or at least until she repeats that they simply stumbled upon this tree while sailing to their next destination. It wasn’t intentional, or even on the map. She adds that they were just at Long Ring Long Land, but it makes you frown further in confusion.

It only takes a moment for you to remember the original implied request by Nami. You nod briefly, “It’s fine. You can stay for a few days.”

Nami sighs in relief, thankful to not experience your rejection or have one of their crew resort to violence to persuade you.

“But on my terms,” you add.

Nami grimaces, already imagining the way Luffy would violate every possible term you could propose. But she nods again, hopeful.

It’s not so bad, it turns out. You help them choose a better spot to moor the Merry and secure it in place with Nami while Sanji returns aboard to prepare breakfast. You’re gentle and helpful, but Nami still feels a slight intimidation. She assumes it’s at least partly from the massive predator watching her every move. While she’s curious, she avoids asking too many questions since Robin will ask them again later.

Luffy is still sleepy when he wakes and is quickly fed, which helps to keep him subdued. He does immediately fall into the water upon leaving the ship, leaning too far forward while looking at the roots in the water, and has to be surfaced by an annoyed Zoro. You show the crew around the marshy base of the tree and the small room you’ve made out of a particularly twisty bundle of roots. You then demonstrate to them how you make your way around: a system of vines and pulleys and weights that makes Zoro wince at its overcomplicated nature. Luffy bypasses this by shooting his arm towards the next branch and sweeps everyone into his other arm as he pulls himself in the air.

You then show them your gardening space by the second branch. A particularly odd twist in the tree’s trunk creates a series of small hills that drain into a pond. Lush rows of planted crops are growing, some bearing fruit or vegetables. You explain that they can have some of the fresh fruit and vegetables, but that they’ll mostly have to take preserves. But you're also willing to help them forage for other foods—the varying climates of the different branches offering a sizable variety.

Before Sanji can blurt out a nonsensical compliment and Luffy can grab a handful of whatever’s closest, you state firmly, “In exchange for my food and docking here for a few days, you will abide by these rules: you must keep your disruption to the other animals to a minimum, including killing and eating them. You also can’t damage the tree or the environments on it.”

Luffy immediately begins to pout while Sanji blabbers that he will make you the finest vegetarian cuisine in exchange for your hospitality. The others just nod in affirmation. Except for Zoro.

“You some tree guardian or somethin’?” he asks.

You huff, amused. “It’s complicated.”

It doesn’t turn out to be that complicated, just a long story that Luffy nods off to. You try to be brief, explain that you were on a research trip to study an island near your home in the South Blue. A storm came, swept you away to wake up cradled in the salty roots of the massive tree. You thought you were dead, especially after turning and making eye contact with Hin, one of the lions from the island that had been tagged for research. At the very least if you weren’t dead, you assumed you would be shortly. It was a delicate dance of asserting authority that became a sort of skeptic symbiosis. Lions are hard to read. Some days he looks at you with an intensity that registers as keep your distance , others you’ll comfort each other through a cold night. You think the mutual loss of prior kinship contributes to the unconventional relationship, but you’re still aware he could end your life at any moment he wanted. Even though he hasn’t in the past five years of opportunity.

Usopp shudders and mumbles to himself while attempting to spot said creature below, “I just don’t get why you’d keep a giant predator around. Push him in the water or something.”

Robin intervenes. “The South Blue? That must mean the tree is floating through the ocean. You’ve never touched land since arriving? I’d imagine the currents and winds would bring you to shore at some point.”

You just shake your head, having the same assumptions.

“That means you passed through the calm belt,” Nami realizes. “How would something like this get through there?”

Again you don’t know. You don't even know what the Calm Belt means. You’ve long since resigned the impossibility of things to the great mystery of the world. Plants and animals you can study, get familiar with and build knowledge (though they’re impossible in their own smaller ways). Matters of nonsensical geology and weather patterns were beyond the understanding of a single person.

You notice Zoro and Luffy are like that too. They don’t seem to mind that there are things they’ll never know. They just want to nap or swing through the branches. You notice that others in their crew see mysteries as the reason to keep going. Robin’s fascination and Nami’s confusion motivate them to take action and find answers. You notice that the rest are preoccupied with something else entirely. A sense of duty to a purpose. You notice it’s more of an alignment chart than it is a system of categories.

While you feel surrounded by great mysteries, you do know that you miss home. You resigned to never having the opportunity to return, so it was a safe longing that didn’t inspire you to take action, to take risk. You realize that while these pirates all have different means of navigating their mysteries, they’re taking a risk together. Some don’t see it as a risk as much as a necessity. You wonder how hard that decision was for them to make. You realize that you now have to make a decision of your own. There’s no rush, you have a few days to mull it over. A few days isn’t nearly enough time, but it’s a small comfort.

You help them explore the length of the tree and at night help Sanji prepare a meal at the top of the crown. He’s unfamiliar with some of the ingredients and you explain what you know of their flavors and best methods of preparation. You’re a mediocre cook, but the information is helpful regardless. Chopper asks you about your knowledge of their medicinal properties. You tell him that you can share your notes and show him how to care for them if he wants to take any with him when they leave.

Nami makes a complicated face. “You… you’re staying here?”

You think about your mom and your sister. Your dad. Close friends, other researchers. The rest of the world that exists out there. You think about Hin and all the life you’ve made intricate relationships with. 

“I don’t know,” you say.

The sun falls through the clouds while everyone eats their meal. Sanji has to prevent Luffy from grabbing stray birds that linger in the canopy after he finishes his plate. The clouds turn pink, orange, red, a twinge of purple. As the sky fades into its deep sleepy blue, you remember your third rule.

“Don’t go in the water after sunset.”

Usopp makes a “huh?” sound while Robin excitedly asks why.

“It’ll eat you alive.”

Despite Usopp’s worries, the Merry is fine the next day. He was torn between being too afraid to sleep in the boat out of fear he would also dissolve in his sleep, and wanting to be with her in case anything happened. He felt sick to his stomach watching you demonstrate a few clippings of your hair turn into nothingness. Luffy thought it was awesome and Nami thought Robin looked the happiest she’s been in over a week.

When the sun rises you share your herbal notes with Chopper and your accounts on the island with Robin. You’re embarrassed at the personal nature of some of your entries, but figure the details would be forgotten eventually after she leaves. You notice your internal monologue is assuming you’re staying again. Luffy’s new favorite activity is to swing through the tree branches in a one-sided race with the monkeys, but Zoro spends his day strength training at the bottom out of fear that Luffy will fall and drown himself. Nami explores with Sanji, attempting to create a map while the cook forages. Usopp is forced to tag along to be Nami’s buffer.

The whole day Hin is clingy, more affectionate than usual. It makes Chopper nervous that the lion is hanging around you all day, but Hin barely acknowledges him. You aren’t sure whether it’s because of the visitors or if it’s triggered by something else.

The Strawhats decide they’ll want to stay a couple more nights. Usopp thinks he can gather material to do some decent maintenance on the Merry and get her in a confident position with some time. You’re glad you get a little longer to be in their presence. You can’t help but notice that the decision is already made: that you can’t leave. But maybe a few more days will convince you otherwise. Hin still won’t leave your side.

On what the Strawhats decide is their last full day with you, an unexpected storm rages through. You show them how you wait them out at the base of the tree, a secure place with less wind and more distance from lightning. The storm is pretty average until there’s one particular strike of lightning that radiates through the entire length of the tree. Your heart drops as you feel a splintering sound resonating through your entire body. It’s paired with a short period of deafness that ends just before there’s a massive splashing sound. The base of the tree rocks, lurches upwards with your stomach and then slams back into the water. There’s the chattering of birds, howls of monkeys, buzzing of insects all moving away. In the distance.

In all your time on this floating ecosystem, you have witnessed animal migration. Some birds leave for a season, others never return. New insects appear out of the blue along with grasses and fruits and fish. The nature of a groundless entity puts it in constant range of new variables, new lives that come and go for varying lengths of time.

Never has there been a mass evacuation of life.

When you run outside the sky is still pouring. A mist simultaneously rises from the ocean and you’re immediately drenched. There is no canopy to shelter the rain. The tree has fallen. Your livelihood, all your relationships and meaning, plummeted in the ocean. It’s still afloat, a mile onwards into the mist of the sea. But it’s gone. It will never be upright again. You can tell by the way the bottom is shredded, splintered into a million pieces. You’ve never seen growth below the second branch, no watershoots to suggest the tree could embrace a new trunk. 

Even if there was a chance for survival, it wasn’t in your lifetime. It would take hundreds if not thousands of years for there to be even a fraction of the biodiversity that occupied this space seconds ago. You know the world is a cruel place. After days of resigning yourself to staying, with no temptation towards a life-long journey of returning home, you are forced to realize it is the only way forward. You immediately entertain dying here. It hurts to imagine Hin dying with you.

Your brain moves a mile a minute, contemplating sending Hin with the pirates to their next island. Let him try to rebuild his life while you die with yours.

You feel his presence beside you. It’s cold. He steps forward.

The memory of his affections is distant as you watch him. His steps hold intent, they do not waver. You call for him in your mind. Turn back. At least look back at me. You can’t stop him, can’t even call out to him, knowing that nothing will change his mind. He marches onwards. You know that you cannot follow.

The Strawhats stay another day.

You have to go with them. It’s the clear decision, has been since their arrival. You deny it, have been denying it despite it waving obviously in your face. You hate the clarity that this was inevitable. Hin’s affections replay through your mind. He knew too. He was prepared before the storm came, the moment the pirates stepped foot on your land, before they spotted your tree on their ship. Even the Strawhats knew, Nami’s confusion the first night resurfacing in your memory.

It’s unfair, so unfair. You spent five years building something, finding your niche and your way to coexist in such a rich and unique environment. Again you remember your mom, your sister. You remember the injustice you felt when you first washed up in the basket of roots in the ocean face to face with the king of the jungle.

Chopper is helping you salvage the remaining flora you can find to propagate on the ship. You have a library of seeds still mostly intact that Sanji moves to a room in the Merry for you. Robin collects your journals and works with Nami to dry out the ones that were damaged in the storm. Luffy is excited to have you aboard. Usopp comforts you poorly and Zoro doesn’t even try. You appreciate all of it, but simultaneously seethe with anger.

Nami checks in with you after doing what she can with the books.

“I can’t fight,” you admit out of nowhere. A thought that had been sitting in your throat in a way that made it hard to swallow. Until Nami appeared and it leaped without warning.

She smiles softly. “It’s okay. I wasn’t much of a fighter either. Still not compared to the others.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fight.” You did when you were little, with your peers and your family. You fight yourself these days.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll be plenty of help no matter what.”

You look at her suspiciously and shake your head. Your eyes naturally travel down and towards the ship, the bundles of leaves from the tangerine trees and the early stages of their fruit. You speak without thinking again.

“You know if you pruned your tangerines better you could yield at least double your fruit.”

Nami smiles brightly.

You have fantasies of the tree growing back. In a few thousand years time there will be a new ecosystem flourishing. A new mixture of life will grow and fauna will migrate and emigrate in stages, cycles. It’s a beautiful, hopeful vision that keeps your heart lukewarm as you feel the coldness of abandonment.

You’re the last one on board the Merry. Before you go you take a long look at the remnants of what was once your home. The trunk split just before the curve that you made your garden, preserving the collections of your life artifacts. Over the past few days the length of the tree up to its canopy has drifted significantly into the distance. You can vaguely see it in the water, just an inch or so below the surface with small branches breaking through the surface. Of course it’s drifting in the opposite direction of where the Strawhats are going next.

When you raise your foot off the island and onto the first step of the Merry, you hear a bubbling and rippling behind you. When you turn you see the collection of roots and stump begin to sink into the ocean's depth.

A pain flares in your chest. You march towards your room, slam the door, lock it. Sob into your pillow.

Grief is funny. It’s also gut wrenching. You think it might be the only constant in your life. In the next few days on the Merry you’re too blinded by yours to see that it’s a constant in everyone else’s. The Strawhats all have their own special dance with loss, ones that make them annoying about yours. It takes a while to realize they’re offering you what they need. You try to offer it back, communicate your own preferences. Some get it better than others.

Chopper is the one you find yourself around the most. Your trades coincide and you learn from one another. You teach Chopper about what you were able to salvage and start growing on the Merry. It begins your healing process in a painful way, one that constantly reminds you of what you lost. But it helps you preserve it, transform it, share its beauty with others and make it immortal—something you never imagined. Chopper shows you his own collection of herbs and medicinals, and then the ones he’s attempting to grow on the ship. He explains his process and concerns. You suggest some maintenance strategies and offer to work with his plants to see what works best for them. He looks so happy.

It’s comforting to have an animal presence. You haven’t communicated with people in so long that you’ve forgotten how to read them. Your speech is awkward too, having written to yourself for the past few years and rarely communicated orally with words. You realize your response time is often delayed and that conversation doesn’t run smoothly. But you can understand Chopper’s behaviors, his little mannerisms and particular looks. You get the sense that it’s unsettling to him, but he appreciates it once he’s used to it. Some days when you’re working together not a single word makes its way between you two. But it’s healing. Familiar.

You find yourself on edge around Sanji. He’s an overbearing presence in your grief, one that drives him to constantly check on you and offer you comforts. It’s irritating. You sometimes think that he’s trying to catch you off guard and see you at your weakest. You aren’t sure what makes you think that, maybe because you struggle to differentiate when he’s offering you comfort or making a pass at you.

One day in the far future it’ll make sense. You’ll learn things about him that will make you want to ensure you’re there for him every moment of the day. But for now you try to recognize this as his way of showing love and care. You wonder why it has to look like this. You embrace it as best you can, offer some constructive comments so the benefits go both ways.

“If you make me my comfort foods all the time they won’t have the same effect every time I eat them.”

An unreadable expression passes through his face before he begins to apologize. You don’t let him. 

“It’s okay, I appreciate your efforts. I want to eat your food though, too.”

His face immediately flushes and he vows to serve you his finest cuisines. It’s too much, you can’t look at him when he thinks so highly of you. You look down at your meal and finish it quietly.

You’re not ready to say goodbye to the Going Merry. 

When the time comes and Luffy’s decision is made, you can’t stomach the argument, the fight that occurs outside. Robin’s gone too and you’re trying to sort out how you’ll relocate the plants, preserve the seeds and your library. Fixating on plans is how you distract yourself, trick your brain into moving forward instead of spiraling in on itself.

You want to reach out to Usopp, tell him you understand and that it’s unfair. But you don’t understand, will never feel for the Merry what Usopp does. The Merry was your last resort, and not even what you put above dying. For Usopp the Merry was a gift. A treasure offered by a childhood partner and a reflection of himself, his potential. A potential rejected by his closest friends.

As you predicted, you’re useless throughout Water 7 and Enies Lobby. You’re quick on your feet, can work out a plan pretty quickly. You’re able to diffuse some tense moments, even if your mediation feels surface level. But you can’t fight—or rather, can’t get yourself to fight. It’s okay in the end. You—your crew—win(s).

Even so, you can’t find a moment of peace. There’s another crew member—one that’s loud and a little tactless but you don’t want to judge prematurely, especially after seeing the way Robin looks at him. You can’t stomach this feeling that you overstepped, saw too much too soon in both Usopp and Robin’s lives that you were never meant to know. You have the gall to apologize, Usopp first because he’s less intimidating.

He looks at you sheepishly but brushes it off easily. “It’s bound to happen, ya know? How do you think I felt watching your whole home-tree thing and friend disappear a few days after meeting you?”

He makes a fair point, even as he rambles on about how he’s fine and that he’s too great to be held back by things like that. It takes him a second to realize his potentially offensive implications of the way you’ve dealt with your loss, but you know enough about the sniper by now to understand what he’s trying to communicate.

You tell him that you would be sad too. You briefly relate it to your own feelings as of late. You tell him that if he ever wants company that you’re there for him.

His eyes well with tears as he sputters and scoffs. He turns away from you to wipe his eyes as he tries to flip the script and offer you a shoulder to cry on. The next day he’s in your greenhouse-office and you make him a blend of herbal tea as he shares with you his favorite moments on the Merry. You believe him. You have no other choice. It offers the opportunity to learn about the people you’re cohabitating with, how they came together and what brought them here now.

You’ll cross check the validity later with Nami, but for now you believe every word Usopp says. It’s what he needs from you for his healing.

You find yourself frustrated with Robin. Every attempt you’ve made at conversation with the goal of delivering your apology gets hijacked by a slew of questions for you. You think it may be like your own tendency to organize and plan to distract yourself: Robin takes in information to preoccupy her mind. For you to apologize would be to recognize what happened to her and admit that you were a witness. At some point that exchange will assist her healing, but for now you entertain her curiosities and hope that Franky is able to reach her.

You and Nami have the opposite relationship. Something about her makes you too quick to admit your feelings, even when her questions have nothing to do with them. It’s what let your guard down when she first set foot on your island and what had you sharing your insecurities before you came aboard. You don’t feel ready to share what she always pulls out of you. You never will be. You can tell she’s trying to confront you while also giving you proper space and you can’t help but hope she somehow understands the tension within you. That you want her comfort and her ease, but acknowledging these things about yourself will force you to move forward, take a step out of the darkness that connects you with your home.

You think she may know a thing or two about that, which is even more a reason to keep your distance.

“The tangerines have been growing really well,” she tells you one day. You think she’s caught on and is trying to give you space.

“Thanks,” you mumble, burying your face in the branches as you pick a few more and place them in your basket. You feel that Nami wants to say more, but you’re too flustered to leave the foliage. She walks off after a moment and Luffy pouts from afar. Why is it okay when you pick the tangerines?

The captain walks into your greenhouse-office one morning and witnesses your vulnerability. You had a hard time sleeping, mind racing with what if’s and hypotheticals and the same narratives you’ve been running through your mind for years. Luffy catches you in the middle of a crying session, tenderly checking the leaves of the saplings you’re nursing with blurry vision.

Upon being caught you try to reign yourself back into normalcy. You wipe your eyes with embarrassment and cough to level your voice. “Hey Luffy, sorry I didn’t—”

But he smiles, wraps his arms around you seven-fold and holds you close. He’s warm, like a heated blanket, like another body in the rain to keep you safe. You choke out another sob, one you didn’t know you had in you. You realize you haven’t been held like this since before Hin walked forwards and never looked back. You wonder where he is, where that tree took him. Who was waiting for him.

Luffy just snickers, in a wholesome way. One that finds your insecurities amusing because he thinks they’re silly (not that you voiced them; he just knows). Of course the Strawhats will be your family, hold onto you until you achieve your dream and then a little longer. Even when you push and push and keep everyone at a distance unless they’re trying to keep a distance from you.

You learn that Luffy is a great void for your most absurd or intrusive thoughts. He doesn’t remember them and his reactions make them feel like they might not be worth the world to entertain.

“What if I die before I see my sister again?” You blurt one day while the two of you are sitting on the head of the Sunny. It’s a spot you like to lay to soak up the warmth of the sun, but only by yourself. Sometimes being with Luffy is like being alone.

“Huh? That’d suck,” he says nonchalantly. “But you won’t, you’re strong.”

You can’t begin to fathom why he thinks that. But he’s so confident it breaks your line of thinking. This repeats a few times throughout the day.

“Sometimes I think that Hin left so easily because I didn’t mean anything to him.”

“That’s dumb, sometimes you just have to be somewhere,” he says easily. Pauses. “Why’s he called that anyways?”

You look up from where you're sitting to glance at Luffy’s face. He’s standing next to you, staring in the distance like he has better things to worry about, such as what Sanji’s making for dinner and the like. You can see the glow of golden hour sitting on his skin and his hat.

“It means the..” you trail off. From this angle, Luffy’s hat makes a perfect halo around his head. His unruly hair sticks out like a mane. Like light diffusing from one central bright light.

“The sun.”

(You think about how the crew agreed to name this ship the Sunny. You think about how Franky put a lion on the front before he heard anything about how you joined the Strawhats.)

You lay in that same spot the next day, soaking in the sun and letting your mind wander. You try to remind yourself of the reality you’re existing within.

Footsteps come from behind you. They’re heavy, Zoro’s. You aren’t sure why he’s coming this way. He usually naps at the bottom of the staircase and trains in the lookout tower. You sit up, ready to leave if he has plans to use the space. Of everyone, Zoro is the one you’re simultaneously the most comfortable with and reserved around. He keeps to himself in a way that makes you feel like you should too. 

To your surprise, he mumbles a “sorry” when he sees you and makes to turn around and go back down the stairs.

You call out to stop him. “I can leave if you want to be here.”

“Don’t. I won’t bother you, I can nap somewhere else.”

“You should nap here if you want,” you encourage him.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Don’t wanna make you nervous.”

He thinks he scares you, you realize. He has a shimmer of reluctance in his gaze that looks out of place. Usually you’re awkward around him because his stare reminds you of the intensity of a predator. An animal with a roar that rules as king in the hierarchy of life. At first it was too much, but now it makes you realize that the beings you love are everywhere. Hin might be gone, but you have Zoro. These archetypes will repeat in your life for as long as you live. They’re different, of course, but there’s a reason you keep finding one another.

“You won’t,” you tell him confidently. “You don’t.”

Sleeping in the same space as Hin was how you grew to be confident in your trust of him and his in you.

You ask, “Can I lay here while you nap?”

He frowns at the fact that you would ask. “Of course.”

You find a middle ground with Nami. You like looking at her maps, seeing the expanse of space that exists that you’ve never set foot on. Places you may have been minutes from and never known. You like the way the paper wrinkles ever so slightly with the touch of ink on its surface. When it dries it sits mostly flat again, but there’s a slight warpage you can feel by running your fingers over the lines. You’re watching her draw one evening when she starts talking about her mom and sister. You don’t interject, just nod to yourself and give the occasional hum of affirmation that you’re listening.

You smile to yourself. “I hope I get to fight with my sister again one day.”

A knock on the door interrupts whatever Nami’s reply would have been. It’s Chopper, excited about an observation he made in the greenhouse that he wants your opinion on. You look at Nami apologetically and tell her you’ll talk more later. You want to hear more about her life in the village. She smiles sheepishly, realizing how much she rambled. Your heart pounds excitedly as Chopper grabs your hand and guides you to your office despite knowing you know how to get there. You fight the urge to scoop him in your arms.

One day while you’re napping on the Sunny’s lion, Zoro in his own slumber against one of the pieces of the mane, a slight drizzle starts to fall. It wakes you gently and just as the weather picks up into a heavier rain. You’re disoriented, but stand and close the gap of a few strides to where Zoro is still sleeping. You shake him gently, urge him to wake up.

He has the nerve to look annoyed and ask why you woke him.

“C’mon Zoro, we should nap inside. We’re gonna get sick in the rain.”

He raises an eyebrow, unbudging. You give his arm a push but he’s motionless. You give up, try to step over him and to the deck, slip a little but catch yourself on the railing.

Zoro sighs and stands. He somehow scoops you around your front and grabs the back of your knees in a one-handed bridal carry. You would protest but he’s warm and you’re still sleepy despite being somewhat damp. Zoro gets onto the deck with ease and walks down to the closest sheltered area. There he sits and places you next to him so that you lean against his shoulder for support. He falls back asleep immediately. You’re too tired to think about the familiarity and the warmth of waiting out the rain. You fall asleep quickly.

It gets easier with time despite the continuing uncertainty. It’s a constant question of what to do, how to get back home, if your family would even be there still. The crew knows you’re struggling, that you don’t know what path to follow. They’re here for you, welcoming you with open arms even as you think about leaving them. But you were never good at making decisions, always moving through life by the only option left.

The default here is to stay and follow everyone else’s journey. Luffy asks if you have a dream. You don’t. That’s never been what moves you forward.

It’s another night in a bar with the Strawhats. Not much of a drinker, you learn to assume the role of designated navigator to the Sunny while Zoro helps carry the ones who can’t walk. As you’re trying to rally everyone to head back, Luffy lets out a loud laugh and points to something on the wall.

“Hey! Looks like you finally got a bounty, hahaha!”

You look to where he’s pointing and freeze. The poster definitely has a resemblance but the person in the portrait has lighter eyes and a different haircut than you. Your noses are slightly different. You yank the paper off the wall and read your sister’s name at the bottom. Your heart is thrumming in your ears, body on fire as you stare.

Sanji takes your silence as fear that you have a bounty and drunkenly pats your back. Then he slings an arm over your shoulder and leans his weight on you for support. “It’s okay, we’ll protect you. Your portrait looks good even if it’s a little inaccurate.”

You fold the poster and shove it in your pocket, urging everyone to get moving. Before you leave the bar you do a quick scan of the room to see everyone’s face. She’s not here. You leave.

The next morning you stand by the kitchen counter as you watch Sanji prepare and serve breakfast for everyone nursing their hangovers. You watch them grumble, some of them argue despite it being so early in the day. You think fondly about how they’ve become your family when you needed it most. You recount hugs, late night conversations, tears, naps, lingering together in silence. You think about the poster in your pocket.

You didn’t sleep much last night, preoccupied with what-ifs and hypotheticals. Questions of who your sister has joined on the water, how she got there, how she’s doing. You think that you should get a bounty of your own, to show her that you’re still out there too. You imagine an unexpected run in on the open water. One where you show each other the people you’ve met and tell stories of all that’s happened while you’ve been apart. You imagine your crews working together, maybe they become one giant crew. More realistically you’ll eventually part your separate ways. But it’s the kind of parting that comes with the chance for return, a reassurance that you’re allies and there will be an again. You can say “see you later.”

You’re standing there too long. Sanji looks at you with confusion as to why you aren’t coming to eat. Luffy just shoots an arm over and pulls you between himself and Nami.

“Let’s eat!” he cheers. “Or I can eat your food if you aren’t hungry.”

You can’t hold back your smile. Luffy’s arm is still partially wrapped around your waist from where he grabbed you and you put yours around his waist to hug him back. You put your other arm around Nami and hug her too.

She yelps and her face flushes. “Wh-what’s up with you this morning?”

Luffy just giggles and hugs you harder. You love them. You beam and put your head against Luffy’s. “Nothin’. Just excited for breakfast.”

You feel like you have all the time in the world.

ok i'm finally done with my crossposting & can breathe again

[astrozuya]

☆ GOOD NIGHT — kang taehyun.

✦ content‎: ‎taehyun x gn!reader. fluff. 0.5k wc. summary: to you, home is kang taehyun. you don't see that ever changing.

you blink sleepily and open your eyes, warm and surrounded by soft blankets, your head resting comfortably on someone's chest.

you look up, and even in your dazed state you instantly know it's taehyun. he's more familiar to you than your own reflection, and even in the dimness of the room you know it's him, because you'd never feel this safe with anyone else.

the contentment and relief of having him with you gives way to frustration when you realise he's in the same position he was a few hours ago, when you first drifted off to sleep cuddled close to him.

"tyun," you whine, your voice a little hoarse from disuse. "i said i was fine, you didn't have to stay—"

"angel, you're sick." he sounds affronted at the very idea of leaving you alone, and you can make out a slight frown on his face through the dim, hazy illumination of the night light. "there's no way i'm leaving your side until morning."

you frown too, not backing down. "have you even moved since i went to sleep?"

"i have, don't worry." he places a bookmark into the paperback in his hands, before setting it down on the nightstand and taking off his glasses.

he carefully arranges the covers around you, making sure you're warm and comfortably tucked in, then places a hand gently against your cheek. "you're still running hotter than normal, you need rest."

"you're silly," you mumble. "i said 'm fine.. it's just a fever."

"i'm still gonna stay right here, sweetheart." his hand finds its way to your head and he strokes your hair gently, smiling when you relax and nuzzle into his touch.

"i just… don't want you to force yourself to be here." your words come out as a mumble, and taehyun frowns again.

"it's okay to be taken care of, y/n. i love taking care of you, baby, so please, let me be selfish and look after you for as long as i want."

"and how long would that be?"

he laughs softly. "who's silly now? forever, of course."

you feel tears prick at your eyes and quickly blink them away, blaming your sensitivity on your unwell state. taehyun is nothing short of perfect, and you know that, you've always known that, but his overwhelming tenderness still manages to take your breath away sometimes.

you hide your face in his chest and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he presses a kiss to your head.

"i'll make you some soup when you wake up, okay?"

you nod wordlessly, the exhaustion finally hitting your body, and cuddle closer to him, relishing in the warmth of his body and the safety of his presence as you let your eyes drift shut.

taehyun plays with your hair, adoration etched onto his features as he watches you fall asleep. the last thing you remember before sleep takes you is his whispered promise: "rest up and go to sleep, my darling. i'll be right here when you wake up. i love you."

notes: sick and twisted that i'm unwell but don't have a tyun to cuddle me rn ㅠ ㅠ when will the horrors end.. anyways this is painfully self indulgent but idc anymore cringe isnt real. i hope this was ok :)