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rbfclassy · 1 year ago

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SCREAM FOR ME! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...as you get ready for a Halloween party, you don’t notice a strange man watching you from across the street, waiting for the perfect moment to sneak into your house and play a little game

INFO...ghostface!toji x fem!reader, dark content, toji is a serial killer, stalking, intruding/home invasion, fear play, knifeplay, choking, pet names (sweetheart, baby, slut, good girl), ripping/cutting clothes, slight nipple play, blood play (toji licks your blood), praise, degradation, slapping, cutting your skin/marking, squirting, fingering, hair pulling, overstimulation, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, finger sucking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You hummed along to your playlist as you sat at your vanity, dipping the mascara wand into the tube. You carefully applied the product on your false eyelashes, just to help lift them a little more. It was Halloween night and you lucky for you, you were invited to a Halloween party by your best friend. Of course, costumes were required. Though it was frigid outside, you still opted for the slutty costume—a bunny. It was basic, but it was the cheapest costume you could find. Anything that was above your price range was not worth it, especially if you’re only going to wear this once a year.

Applying the lipgloss to your lips, you cleaned up around the edges, making sure it didn’t look too messy. It was your first night going out in a while, and it’s been quite a while since you’ve slept with anyone too. You were hoping that tonight would be the night you’d bring someone back to your place, it was Halloween night after all, everyone is down for something. Screwing the top of the lipgloss back on, you threw it somewhere across your messy vanity before standing up from your seat, quickly running over to your closet to look for your bunny ears.

You were too busy trying to look all pretty, too busy getting dressed up to impress, that you didn’t notice the man standing across the street looking right into your bedroom window. He watched you, watched your every movement like a hawk watches its prey. He was hidden behind the tree, leaning up against the rough bark. He wasn’t too worried about anyone questioning him, it was pretty late at night and all the trick or treaters were tucked into bed, houses dimmed of light. Everyone was sound asleep, everyone except for you. He’s had his eye on you for quite some time, first noticing you at the grocery store, then at the park, then now in your home, in your slutty bunny costume as you got ready to go to some stupid party.

He’s been following you for weeks now, keeping tabs on you. He was even in line behind you one time, making sure to memorize your phone number when the cashier had asked if you had a rewards account with them. He saved it in his phone the moment he got into his car before following you home. How stupid you were to go out on a night like this. Don’t you know about the killings going on in the city only a few hours away from you? Didn’t you care about your safety? Clearly not. And clearly, to him, you were the perfect choice. He crossed the street to your house, slipping into the backyard where no one would see him.

“Finally,” you huff as you grabbed your bunny ears, slipping them onto your head, making sure not to mess up your hair. You walked over to the mirror, checking over your outfit one more time before your phone began to ring. Excitedly, you ran over to answer it, assuming it was your best friend. “Hey!”

“Hello,” A deep and gravely voice spoke. Your brows immediately furrowed at the unrecognizable voice and you pulled the phone away from your face to see it was an unknown number.

“Uh, who is this?” You asked, slowly walking around your room.

“I could ask you the same,” they responded.

“Listen, I think you have the wrong number.” You hung up, tossing your phone onto the bed. As you walked over to grab your heels, your phone began ringing again. The unknown number displayed on your screen again as you stared down at it. Quickly, you pressed the decline button and went to putting your heels back on. Not even a second later, your phone was ringing again. With the roll of your eyes, you snatched your phone off of the bed and answered it. “Can you stop calling? I said you had the wrong number!”

“Do I, y/n?” Your eyes shot wide as you quickly stood to your feet. The sound of this persons voice sent chills right down your spine and goosebumps all over your body.

“How do you know my name? Faye, if this is you, I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You slightly shouted, stomping over to your window, only to see the street was empty and her car wasn’t there.

“This isn’t Faye,” they chuckled.

“Who is this and how do you know my name?” You clenched your jaw as you slammed your window shut, locking it and pulling the blinds down. You started to grow paranoid, pacing back and forth in your bedroom.

“Me knowing your name should be the least of your worries.” The smirk was evident in their voice, almost like they were toying you, finding fun in the fear they struck into your heart.

“This isn’t funny, Faye! Haha, yeah it’s Halloween, you got me motherfucker. Now, cut the bullshit!” You spoke angrily.

“That’s not a nice name to call someone. You should know better. If you don’t play nice, then you’ll deal with the consequences,” the nearly said in a whisper.

“Fuck you!” You hung up the phone and immediately went to text Faye. The sound of the ringtone filled the silence of your room as you sat and watched your phone ring, chest heaving up and down and as you began to panic. “What the fuck do you want?!”

“I just want to play a game, that’s all,” he chuckled.

You spoke through gritted teeth, “what game?”

“Hot or cold,” he bluntly answered. “Right now you’re cold.”

Blinking several times, you let out a shaky breath as you placed your hand on your doorknob, slowly turning it, preparing for who or what could be on the other side. You clenched your eyes shut, silence on the other end of the phone as you swung the door open, only to be met with nothing. Standing there in your door way, you scanned the open area of your house, living room quiet as a mouse. Quickly, you darted over to your front door to make sure it was locked, which it was. “Still cold.” The deep voice caused you to jump.

“What…what am I looking for?” You hesitantly asked, stepping away from your front door. The wood creaked under your feet, careful not to trip in the heels you were wearing.

“Don’t worry about that.”

Slowly, you walked through your living room and towards the kitchen, eyes scanning everything in your sight. You took notice of the knife holder, making the decision to grab one. You held it in your hand tightly. “Warmer,” the voice spoke. Whatever this person was having you look for wasn’t in the kitchen, but it was close by. Though your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, the only thing that was left to check was the bathroom, spare bedroom, and the basement, which you surely weren’t going to check. The corridor leading towards those rooms seemed long and dark, only adding to the fear coursing through your body. “What’s wrong? Scared?”

You ignored his patronizing remarks, stepping down the quiet hallway. A creek from upstairs caused you to stop in your tracks, making you look up from your position. Was this person making you look for them? Were they in your house? The house was still as you stepped further, standing in front of the bathroom door. “Warmer.” With the knife in your hand and phone in the other, you hurriedly opened the door, rushing to move the shower curtain to the side.

“Where are you, fucker?” You asked, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead as you walked back into the hall. Whoever was on the other end of the phone was just messing with you. They weren’t here. They weren’t anywhere near you. Walking to the spare bedroom the voice spoke, “hot.” You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t afraid, even with defense. Trying to trick yourself into thinking this person was just pranking you was barely working. “Open it,” he demanded.

The palms of your hands were sweating, a clear sign of your fear, but you still placed your hand on the knob. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your heart beating, it felt like you were suffocating. Without thinking, you open the door, nothing but darkness. You flipped on the light, still nothing. “Tricked you.”

“Where the fuck are you? Stop messing around with me! Who even is this, huh?” You started yelling over the phone. You began to walk out of the spare bedroom when suddenly the basement door flew open, almost hitting you in the face. You let out a scream as a dark figure came into view, all you could see was a white ghost mask. Immediately, you dropped your phone making a run for it to the spare bedroom behind you. With the knife still in your hand, you tried to quickly shut and lock the door behind you, only to struggle as the intrude fought back, their strength overpowering yours as they crashed against the door.

You fell to the floor, tripping over your feet. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do but fight back. You started swinging with the knife in your hand as the intruder walked towards you, noticing the glint of the knife he had in his hand, a much larger knife—a hunter knife. Before you could blink, their gloved hand grabbed ahold of your wrist, snatching the knife from you and tossing it into the hallway. The smacks and punches you landed on their body did absolutely nothing. “Please! Please, don’t kill me!” Tears started falling from your eyes as your entire body trembled. “Take whatever you want, I won’t tell anyone! I won’t call the cops! Nothing!”

You were confused when the intruder let go of your hand, only to reach his gloved hand up to your face and wipe away your tears. You flinched at his touch, lip trembling. “What do you want?” You asked. No answer. They stood over you, looking down as you cowered in fear. You let out a small yelp as the man lifted you, snatching you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed. Now that you had a clear view of him, you could see how tall he was, his shoulders broad. You could faintly hear his heavy breathing behind the mask, the knife still held tight in his hand.

Toji couldn’t get over how pretty you were with tears in your eyes, mascara running down your puffy cheeks. He admired you in all your beauty, so happy that he finally got to be this close to you. “Are you gonna kill me?” He noticed how you kept looking down at his knife, body trembling. Toji could tell how scared you were, he didn’t mean to make you afraid, he never wants to hurt you. You’re too precious unlike all the others he has come across. So, he placed his knife down on the bedside table. You gulped, chest heaving up and down. The longer he stood in front of you, the more confused you were by his actions. Was this someone pranking you? Maybe a friend of Faye’s you didn’t know of?

Slowly, the man took off his black gloves, his hands large, nails trimmed, and you noticed he had a tattoo on his right hand, one that seemed to blend into a sleeve on his arm. The crazy thing is, you recognized the tattoo, having seen it somewhere before. As you were about to say something, the man grabbed your face, pulling you towards him. A small whimper left your lips, now only inches away from his masked face. You could see his eyes through the mask, low and dark. “Are you gonna hurt me?” You whimpered. All the man did was nod at your question. Instantly, you were brought to tears, in fear of your life. He pushed you back down onto the bed, mounting you.

His rough hands caressed your face, trailing down to your neck, fingertips tracing over your skin. Why won’t he say anything? What does he want with you? Is he toying with you before he wants to kill you? Your mind was racing with so many questions. Toji brought his hand down to your chest, lightly grazing over it before moving to your exposed shoulders. One question that didn’t even cross your mind until now, was how he got in. You were sure that everything was locked, windows and doors. How did he get your number? Why did you recognize his tattoo? “Can you…can at least tell me who you are before you kill me?” You quietly asked. A stupid question. Why would you say anything like that?

He stopped his movements and you could feel him staring at you through the mask. Even if you couldn’t really see him, it still sent fear through your heart. Again, he brought his hand up to your face, the pad of his thumb running across your lips, smudging the lipgloss you had put on earlier. You flinched as he suddenly leaned closer to you, only to whisper, “you know who I am.” And you do, but you just don’t realize it yet. Toji remembers the day, of course he does. It was the day you were walking out of the grocery store and had dropped one your bags. When you went to grab it, Toji’s right hand placed over yours at the same time. You thanked him for helping, smiling up at him with those eyes. He introduced himself to you as you introduced yourself to him. That was a day he’d remember forever.

His voice sent shivers down your spine. It was so deep and husky, and you hate to admit it at a time like this, but attractive. “I…I don’t remember.” You gulped, scared that your response might cause a violent reaction from him. He lifted his head, staring down at you before slightly cocking his head to the side. He looked over your outfit, from the white bunny ears, to the pink silk one piece suit, to the fishnet stockings. It’s better now that he can see the outfit up close. His fingers fiddled with the little bow sewn onto the front of the one piece body suit. Cute, he thought. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the knife on the bedside table while he was too busy looking at you.

Even if you wanted to attempt to grab the knife, he was on top of you, there was no way you’d be able to push him off. You took another chance to speak, “what’s your name?” You asked barely above a whisper. The man stayed silent. He was hurt you really didn’t recognize him by now, but he won’t blame you. You’ve already seen him once before, what’s the harm in seeing him again? He’s never sloppy with his work.

He leans back down towards your ear. “Toji.” Your eyes immediately widen. The guy from the grocery store parking lot. That’s how you recognized his tattoo. How? Was he stalking you this whole time? For how long? You were unsure of how to feel.

“It’s you,” you said with a mix of shock and disbelief. He huskily chuckled in your ear, reaching his up to pull his mask from his face, now allowing you to see him once more. “You,” you spoke again.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.” He smirked. “God you look so sweet I just want to ruin you.” His eyes trailed down to your costume. He turned around, grabbing the knife from the bedside table. You grew nervous, unsure of his intentions. “I’ve had time to plan and think about what I wanna do with you, but now that I’m here, I’m unsure again.” He shrugged, trailing the tip of the knife across your soft skin.

You shifted under him, trying to free yourself only to be stopped when he pressed the blade against your neck, causing you to look into his eyes. Immediately, you felt the intensity, darkness consuming them. Toji leaned down, inches away from your lips, the knife still pressed against your throat as he gently connected his lips with yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips moving in sync with his as you kissed him back for some reason. Were you crazy? Why weren’t you trying to kill him? Grab the knife from him and stab him, run away, do something. Instead, your tongue was in his mouth.

Weirdly, the fear you had just moments ago seemed to be simmering away. When you first met Toji in the parking lot, he caught your eye, he was handsome, tall, and mysterious. Toji pulled away from the kiss, moving the knife away from your neck. All you did was look up at him, shocked by his actions, by all of it. “Were you stalking me?” You asked.

“Of course I was,” he answered. “I knew you were going out tonight. I was watching you from your window, watching you get dressed in this slutty costume. Were you going to go out tonight just to show off what’s mine, hm?” The blade trailed over the pink silk fabric of your bodysuit. Your breath hitched at his words. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice I was following you. I made it so obvious. I guess you’re just too stupid,” he sighed. “But that’s okay, baby. I forgive you.”

“I…” You were unsure of what to say. Each one of his words left you dumbfounded. He was right, you didn’t notice he was following you. You let out a gasp as his cut open the fabric of your suit with his knife, the cold air immediately hitting your skin. He cut it right down the middle, only leaving the spot right below your abdomen intact. He carefully moved the pieces of cut fabric to the side using the tip of his knife, exposing your tits.

Toji’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, taking his free hand to cup your tits, gently pulling at your nipple. He took notice of those little whimpers and squeaks you tried so hard to muffle. “Oh? That feel good? Does a slut like you get turned on from having her stalker touch her?” He pulled at your nipple a little harder. Unexpectedly, his hand wrapped around your throat in an instant, your eyes widening. “Such a stupid slut, going out while there is a killer around. Don’t you care that I can slit your throat right now?” His eyes narrowed.

Your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, staring into his eyes. “I thought you weren’t gonna kill me?” You managed to speak, tears brimming your eyes as you stared up at him. “Please don’t kill me,” you begged, lip trembling. “I’m sorry for whatever I did! I won’t do it again!” You hiccuped, clenching your eyes shut as the sharp blade pressed against your neck again.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His hand came up to your face, wiping away your tears as he forced you to look into his eyes again. “Don’t be scared. There’s nothing to be scared of. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now. All I’m gonna do,” Toji’s hands snaked down to your exposed chest, thumb rubbing over your hard nipple, “is play with you. You gonna let me do that?” His hands felt so nice against your skin. “I’ve been watching you fuck yourself every night, seeing how depraved you are, how frustrated you get when you can’t make yourself cum.” Toji loves how you look up at him with those puppy dog eyes, acting like you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Can no one satisfy my baby, hm?” He cooed.

Without even thinking, your body moved on its own and you shook your head no, answering his question. “That’s what I thought. But tonight, I’m gonna ruin you, because depraved sluts like you open their legs for anything. So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Toji ran the blade down the middle of your sternum, making a small cut on your skin. You let out a wince, looking down to see the small droplets of blood. His smile widened as leaned his head between your tits, sticking his tongue out and licking up the small amount of blood. A small gasp left your lips as the feeling while he indulged in the taste, savoring the coppery taste on his tongue. “Too fucking precious,” he grunted, taking the knife and cutting the rest of your bodysuit so that you were only left in your underwear and stockings.

“I’ll be good for you,” you answered weakly. Toji’s eyes flickered back up to yours, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. He let out a breathy laugh, almost like he was mocking you before he grabbed ahold of your fishnet stockings, easily ripping them open. Your black lacy panties were tempting to keep on, but Toji need to see all of you. The lace easily ripped against the blade, the fabric falling from your hips as he disposed them to the side, leaving you completely exposed.

“Would you look at that,” he spoke. “Look at how fucking wet you are.” His fingers dipped through your folds, gathering your slick. He opened his mouth, licking your juices off of his fingers, eyes nearly rolling back at the taste. You squirmed under him, couldn’t help but get turned on at the sight in front you. You shouldn’t feel like this, it’s wrong, but it also feels so right. What was it about him? “I can’t wait to break you.” He removed himself from on top of you, standing now. He had removed the black costume he was wearing, revealing the black shirt, jeans and heavy boots he was in. Hurriedly, he removed his belt, unbuttoning his pants. “Come here,” he demanded as he pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free.

He was thick, bulbous head leaking pre cum and two prominent veins running on each side. You gulped, crawling over to him and getting down on your knees, the hardwood floor cold against your skin. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him. “Stick your tongue out.” And as you did, he slapped the head of his dick against your tongue, smearing his precum all over your puffy lips as he teased him, teased you. He bit down on his bottom lip, eyes narrowing before he shoved his length in your mouth as far as he could. Immediately, your hands grabbed onto his jeans and you gagged around his cock, eyes clenching shut as tears formed in your eyes. “Fuckkkk,” he blissfully sighed. He pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe, strings of spit connecting from your lips to his length. “Keep looking at me while I fuck your pretty face.”

He guides your head up and down, fucking your face. You gag each time he hits the back of your throat, drool starting to form at the corners of your mouth. You blink up at him with tears in your eyes, watching the way he stares at you lust in his eyes and a mix of something else. He scares you, but he also doesn’t. It’s something that you’ve never felt before. It was hard not to get turned on by him, clearly your dripping cunt was enough proof. And now that you were sucking his dick, you were more even more turned on. Drool started to fall onto your tits, it was clear he liked it messy and sloppy. Glug, glug, glug.

“Shit, that’s it sweetheart,” he grunted, his balls slapping against your chin. He could feel the way your throat squeezed around him each time you gagged, only adding to his pleasure. Toji laughed at you, still gripping your hair tightly. Finally, he let you breathe. A series of coughs erupted from your chest as you tried to catch your breath. “There you go, breathe.”

You looked up at him through thick eyelashes, mascara running down your face. He was taken aback when you licked from his base all the way to his tip, sucking on it. You bobbed your head up and down, moaning around it. The vibrations sent shivers through his entire body. He pressed the knife to your cheek, a devilish smirk on his lips as he watched you suck and choke on his cock willingly. “Of course a sick slut like you is into this.” He watched you reach your hand between your legs, unable to resist the urge of touching yourself, rubbing your swollen clit. “Oh fuck.” He threw his head back, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip before you took him further in your mouth. Toji felt himself getting close, immediately pulling you off of him with a sadistic chuckle. “Almost made me fucking cum.” He let out a deep breath, his cock twitching in front of you, tempting you.

He quickly grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed before you had time to process. He could see the fear in your eyes, but also see how desperate you were. He loved it. He planted his lips onto you, sloppily kissing you, forcing his tongue into your mouth. Your hands came up to cup his face, pulling him more into the kiss as you moved your hips against his leg, begging for any sort of friction. “Filthy slut.” He dragged the cold knife against your tits, your body shuddering. “I bet you’d look so pretty covered in red.” His words brought fear into your heart, but for some reason you trusted that he wouldn’t kill you.

“Ah!” You let out a small yelp at the feeling of the sharp blade cutting against your skin, toji leaving a small mark against your tits just like he did with your chest. He licked the blood from his knife, watching the small droplets of blood flow from the incision. He was right, you did look pretty covered in red. While worried about the marks he was making on your skin, you were shocked when you felt his fingers push inside your aching cunt, stretching you open. Your whimpers were like music to his ears, feeling your walls spasm around him as you tried to adjust. How long has it been since someone else was inside you? Doesn’t matter now, you were his and his only. He began pumping his fingers in and out of you, your hand gripping onto the sheets below as your legs spread further and further.

“You’re soaked. You must like being threatened and stalked, huh? Like being used?” Toji questioned as he began moving faster, curling his fingers up slightly so that he was hitting your g-spot. He trailed the blade against your other breast, making another cut. Oh how he loved watching you bleed. Your pussy was making lewd sounds, squelching as your juices coated his fingers and hands.

“Oh my god!” You moaned, bucking your hips against his hand. You bit down on your lip as you tried to suppress your moans. He only made it harder, each thrust of his fingers causing your body to jolt in pleasure. Your legs threatened to close at the overwhelming feeling. Your skin began to heat up as you grew closer to your orgasm. “I’m…I’m close!”

Toji watched in awe as your body began to quiver, squirting all over his hand, soaking the bed below you. He pressed the knife against your neck as he removed his fingers from your wet hole, a broken moan leaving your lips as the loss of contact. “You…fuck…” He could even finish his sentence, so enthralled with you.

You looked up at him with teary eyes, begging for me without speaking. Warm blood trickled down your chest, though that was no longer a worry for you. All you wanted was him, no matter how sick and twisted it was. “Hurt me,” you demanded, tone soft. Something in Toji flipped upon hearing your words. In a second, your legs were spread wide. He ahead aligned himself with your entrance, grabbing your hair tightly.

“Watch as I fuck you.” He slowly pushed himself in, feeling the stretch of his cock made your eyes roll back in pleasure. Even with how wet you were, it still stung a little bit but eventually the pain turned into pleasure. He thrusted hard into you, a mewl leaving your lips at the sudden change. “Does it turn you on fucking your stalker?” He slammed his hips into you again, a growl erupting from his chest. He reveled in your warmth, feeling your walls squeeze around him. He began fucking you a rough pace, tired of teasing himself.

You watched as his length slid in and out you, reaching deep and hitting your sweet spot each time. “I just wanna mark your pretty body, make you stupid.” His words went straight to your pussy, squeezing around him at the thought. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to hurt you? Cause I’ll fucking hurt you,” he gritted his teeth as he fucked you hard and rough.

“Hurt me, please!” You cried, tears falling down your cheeks. Your juices coated his length, a white ring forming around the base of his cock and dripping down his balls. He was animalistic. “So good!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, reaching a hand down to rub your neglected clit. “Shiiit, yes!” You screamed, toes curling. Toji let go of your hair, roughly grabbing your face to look at him. He loved seeing the tears in your eyes no matter if it was from fear or from pleasure. Before you could blink, you felt a sharp sting across your cheek. He slapped you.

“Such a pretty fucking face.” He took the knife, the blade gliding across your stinging cheek. You clenched your eyes shut, taking the pain because the pleasure was so much better. “Pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he chuckled. He slapped you again on the same cheek, the pain even worse than before. His tip kissed your cervix, your pussy gripping him so tight. It’s like you didn’t want to let him go. His thumb gently grazed over your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth and laying it on the flat of your tongue. Without hesitation, you sucked on his finger, moaning around it.

Toji couldn’t get over how fucked out you looked, eyes low as you could barely look up at him. “Toji,” you whined, “ah! I’m gonna cum again! F-fuck, you’re so deep!” Your jaw was slack. All the pleasure that built up finally released, squirting all over his cock and making more of a mess. Your juices coated your thighs and sheets below you. Your body convulsed, trembling under him.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby. That’s my girl.” His hand wrapped around your neck, pushing you flat against the bed. He pushed your legs up against your chest as he fully mounted you, still thrusting into you throbbing cunt. The overstimulation made you go stupid. “I’m gonna fill up this pretty pussy and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he huskily whispered in your ear, pounding into you.

“Yes! Yes!” You screamed, feeling him deeper than before. His balls slapped against your ass as he fucked you ruthless, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier, a sign that he was close. His grip around your neck grew tighter, your vision nearly fading to black before he landed another slap across your face, snapping you back to reality.

“Don’t pass out on me,” he demanded through gritted teeth. “This pussy is gonna make me cum, fuck!” He growled. Plap, plap, plap! The sheer force of his thrusts sent you into a spiral, only pushing you to another orgasm. “Ah, shit!” Toji thrusted into you once more as he filled you up, hot spurts of cum painting your walls. You let out a blissful sigh at the feeling, only to let your orgasm take control and squirt all over his cock and abdomen, soaking the shirt he had on. His heavy breaths were felt on your skin. Toji slowly pulled out of you, his cum slowly dripping out of your cunt. He leaned back to admire the work he had done, using his thumb to push his cum back inside.

The tip of his knife traveled from your abdomen all the way to your neck, the feeling sending goosebumps all over your body. He pressed hard against your neck, chest heaving up and down while he stared at you. “You’re lucky.” He removed the knife of your skin before standing up, grabbing his robe and mask off of the floor while he left you there on the bed.

“Where…where are you going?” You managed to sit up, legs still shaking. It sounded like you didn’t want him to leave. He slipped his mask on, then his gloves and lastly the robe. “Ah!” Toji yanked you up by your neck, leaving you face to face with him. He could see the fear spark back up in your eyes.

“Leaving before I change my mind,” he huffed. He squeezed your throat tighter, heart pumping in your chest as you felt the knife press against your abdomen. “If you tell anyone about this, I won’t let you go the next time I find you. You understand, baby?” With a nod, he pushed you back down onto the bed, tossing you like you were some rag doll. His heavy boots hit the hardwood floor as he walked out of the bedroom. As you sat there dumbfounded, left to piece together what just happened, your back door slammed shut.

Your fingers traced over the cuts he made on your skin, breathing hitching at the touch of each one, dried blood and tears on your skin. Toji. You won’t forget his name or his face. You should consider yourself lucky knowing the many chances he had at killing you. Why did he let you go? Why was he so keen on stalking you first? Breaking away from your thoughts, you looked around the room, seeing the aftermath. Though, you couldn’t find yourself to move or do anything but sit there.

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1818havefaith · 6 months ago

Text

90s/2000s SOFT GLAM

PRODUCTS

Primer

Baby Powder

Tinted Moisturiser or a Foundation

Concealer

Pressed powder

Setting Powder

Brow gel

Blush

Black Eyeliner/Black Eyeshadow

Lash Glue/ Bonding Glue

Light False Eyelashes/ Mascara

Dark Brown/ Dark Plum/ Black Lip Pencil

Pink Lipstick or Pink Lip Gloss

Clear Lip Gloss

Setting Spray

TOOLS

Beauty blender

Concealer brush

Small eye brush

BASE

Apply primer all over your face (including your eyelids) and work it into your skin

#faithtip Apply baby powder all over your face with a powder brush for a long-lasting oil-proof base

Apply concealer to your under eyes following your eyeshape

Blend well with a small brush

Apply tinted moisturiser or foundation to skin

Blend well with a damp beauty blender

#faithtip: dampen your beauty blender with setting spray for easier blending and a longer lasting matte base

Take a powder brush and some pressed powder and apply all over your face

Now, using a powder puff or a beauty blender, apply loose powder to your under eyes following your eye shape.

BROWS

Brush through your eyebrows with brow gel

Fill in if preferred

EYES

Use black eyeliner to follow/ enhance the shape of your eye

There are tutorials on this blog that feature how to draw different eyeliner wings for your specific eye shape

You can use a brush to make your wing look softer inside but keep the outer part of your wing sharp.

LASHES

If you wear light lash extensions these next steps can be skipped

Curl your lashes then apply mascara

If you prefer, after this step apply light cluster lashes to your eye

If you choose a light pair of strip lashes, apply the mascara after putting on the lashes

STRIP LASHES

But for this step apply glue to strip lashes

Wave the lashes around for a bit so the glue dries a tiny bit and feels a little bit sticky

Place them on the lash line and adjust where needed (using tweezers or fingers)

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CLUSTER LASHES

Strip lashes can also be cut into smaller pieces or use cluster lashes

Dip them into glue and wipe off the excess

Use tweezers to hold the lashes

Pull the top of your eyelid upwards so you can see underneath your eyelashes

#faithtip Wipe the glue on the part you are applying to then you can dip the lash in glue again before actually placing it underneath your lash

This make the lashes more firm and secure

Make sure it is not too close to your eye as this can be irritating

Fan your eyes if you can still feel wet glue

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BACK TO THE BASE

Using a powder brush, brush away/blend out the loose powder, under your eyes

Blend VERY well, as the powder has been sat on your face for a while, so it will not move easily

After blending, for a more highlighted look apply a lighter setting powder to the inner corners of your and allow it to sit for some time, whilst you apply blush to your cheeks/cheekbones

LIPS

A common hack from this time was holding a lighter slightly close to your lip liner to melt it a little bit, making it easier to apply and slightly darker

Line your top and bottom lip

Appy a pink lip gloss or lipstick in the middle

Go over your lip liner if you must

Blend your lip liner slightly

Apply a clear lip gloss or keep it matte in true 90s essence

FINISHING TOUCHES...

Swipe away the remaining setting powder

Spray setting spray all over your face

...and DONE! xx

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fuckyeahchinesefashion · 3 months ago

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OP demonstrates how to apply false eyelashes to create a layered effect with eyelashes and eyeshadow, making it more suitable for chinese gufeng style

#china #fashion #chinese fashion #video #tips

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beneathashadytree · 1 year ago

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DEVOUT WORSHIPPER - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : suggestive at most (but not explicit), reader has lipstick applied but still gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy domestic fluff <3

Word count : 0.7K words

Additional notes : Just for context, Sylus and the reader are living together but often go periods without seeing each other due to work🙏🏽 Also, let me know what you think of Sylus being portrayed as Italian/speaking Italian here! Hope you guys enjoy this after the gorgeous new update🫶🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“You’re exquisite.”

Sylus’ soft mumble was not left unheard. In fact, it was impossible to not notice anything about him when he was this close; so close that they could see every blemish on his fair skin, and count every delicate eyelash that fluttered lazily with every slow, seductive blink of his eyes.

They’d never get enough of his eyes, would they?

Eyes the colors of the richest blood rubies; that bled passion and want so true it warmed them to their very core. Maybe they’d never admit that their flushed cheeks weren’t just because of his enamored compliments, but also as a natural reaction to looking into those eyes they could never resist.

“That so?” they hummed, voice smaller than they thought it would come out. Somehow, there was a sanctity to this moment that meant that only hushed whispers were to be spoken between them, even if they were all alone in the safety of their own home.

Sylus huffed out a laugh that was achingly tender, all parts adoration and worship—and yet there was that same arrogance in his eyes that spoke volumes of his sheer confidence in his words. No one believed what he said more than he did. “Mm. You’ll have to take my word, tesoro.”

How sweet it was to hear from him, the endearment lilting and the syllables curling almost intimately on his tongue. Even sweeter it was, when his finger reached out to smudge at the edges of blood-red lips like his own eyes, his touch almost reverent.

“Silver tongue,” they breathed out, their gaze dropping to his sinful lips, their corners raised in an affectionate half-smile he’d only ever bare to them. Just them. It was their sacred secret to stow away between their ribs. “You’re just trying to lure me into staying at home with you.”

“I can’t say that it would be a bad idea.” The faux innocence on his face as his eyes flickered to their parted lips was almost laughable. “The place would miss you, after all.”

No matter how much they tried to play coy, Sylus could always outfox them in that game of wits—but his desires were always spelled out on his face, and this time they threatened to consume them whole.

Arching their brow at him, they reached out to clasp their hand around his wrist, tugging it away from their lips and instead taking their sweet, sweet time to interlace their fingers in an old, almost-sensuous dance that they’d mastered together, completely in step with each other. “Just the place?” they asked, a challenge hidden between every word and the next.

Something dark oozed through his eyes; a flame sparking to life behind his false composed mask. It made them feel a little smug, knowing that he’d never be able to douse that fire; that he’d always want them so terribly.

“You love making things difficult, don’t you, sweetie?” His voice was a little more gruff now, a sharpness there that reminded them that he was at his wits’ end, and that his nerves were fraying every time he was in their presence—in only the best, most delicious ways possible. “No. Not just the place.” Thumb brushing against the back of their hand, he leaned in to whisper in their ear. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I can’t think of anything else that could convince me to stay,” they began to say as they toyed with the chain on his collar, “After all—”

Sylus pulled them onto his lap as he collapsed onto the bed, without even waiting for them to finish that sentence. It seemed that they’d worn out what little patience he’d had left, and he was too far gone in his amorous haze to comprehend a single word more.

“Mi dispiace,” he managed to say, though his chest heaved with the effort of restraint, and his irises were almost completely black as he stroked the small of their back with a practiced hand that had memorized every curve and expanse of skin. “I’ll come up with a better bargain next time. Now, I’m a little preoccupied with you.”

Well. Dinner could wait, they suppose.

Taglist: @mrlovesimps @snowyfragrance @lara635kookie @xinnn6 @moonlight-inthe-sea @canyonlouist @number-1-harumi-hater @2angelbaby2 @jinnieats @blobfishbumblebee @aesmstar @klutzycora-san @inkblotgalaxies @mxrissaauuu @rissaaaaaa @lilithmoonlite @wooyoungsfairygf @hyunskz @lemonsupernova @kpop-and-otome @elizabeth916 @cherrikissez + my old taglist before Sylus was added (since I don’t know who wants to be tagged): @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @mushriiin @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @nix-en @deepzombieyouth @respitable @stellisangelicus-world (more in replies!)

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bigball-thefrog · 5 months ago

Note

Greetings!! Just wanted to know if maybe you could do something with Law or Zoro on how they would be like with a Gyaru reader. I’m a Gyaru and i was just curious about how it would be like with them with my lifestyle lol

Hello hello! Thank you for the request❤️ I apologize in advance because I know basically nothing about the Gyaru style or subculture so I just went based on what I found on Google, so if there's anything wrong or potentially offensive, feel free to point it out.

Warnings/Tags:

None

______________________________

Law:

- It mostly depends on if you're with his crew or not.

- if you're on his crew then you're probably gonna have to follow a dress code since we see the rest of the crew wears the same jumpsuits.

- but like most rule books you could probably find loopholes to add some accessories or makeup to your uniform and it pisses him off each time you find a flaw in his rules.

- but if you're not on his crew then of course it's different.

- He seems like the type of person doesn't like the look of heavy makeup so the first time he sees that style of makeup he's definitely gonna stare

- If you're stereotypical with both the look and personality then he's gonna eternally sigh

- He doesn't need another social butterfly to talk his ears off along with Luffy.

- But overall he doesn't care other people's clothes don't affect him, it'll probably be something he's gonna have to get used to, and you'll probably catch him glaring from time to time, but he's not such an ass that he'd try and get you I change

Zoro:

- Zoro has seen all sorts of people so seeing your sort of style doesn't phase him

- I imagine if he sees you applying your makeup he'll just walk up to you confused and just peel off one of the false eyelashes and just stare at it confused and thinking it was your real eyelashes

-Zoro is definitely an underdresser and might see all your bright colour's, accessories as an eyesore

- But he's not gonna say anything about it because he knows he's gonna get his ass beat, whether it's from you, the other girls or Sanji for saying something mean.

- I think just like Law it would take some time to get used to it but he's respectful enough to keep his mouth shut because it's not his clothes so why should he care?

______________________________

Once again I apologize if it's not good and feel free to correct me for anything and I'll try and post tomorrow

Kelly🐸

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forthegothicheroine · 8 months ago

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Makeup for Noir Dames

There are lots of elaborate vintage makeup tutorials out there, but they don't really tend to match what I see when I watch old black and white movies. The 1940s were a time of rationing, as well as a time of women working in offices and factories, so makeup is much simpler than you might imagine.

Now, there is no need to stick to history if you want to look like a noirish femme fatale. Dita von Teese, for instance, has talked about how her signature makeup look is in fact a combination of several decades of makeup trends. However, if you want to try out or just take inspiration from what women actually wore in classic noirs, here's what you'll probably see. (I won't be covering hair, as I can't really do mine besides putting in product and praying.)

Red lipstick. If you only do one product, it should be lipstick. Lipstick was not rationed during wartime, as it was considered good for the morale of the troops for their girls to look pretty. (We'll let that stand for now, as there's a whole sociology paper you could write on the subject.) You have some leeway in choice of shades, since red can come in dark, bright, cherry, brick, and so forth, but you'll probably want some shade of red.

Some women used lip liner to make their upper lip look bigger, but that's more complicated than I personally get.

Light foundation. Powder is classic, but cream and liquid also work.

Very light eyeshadow, in pastel or something a shade or two darker than your skin tone, applied just to the eyelid. You can also add a darker swipe in the socket if you want to get fancy.

Eyeliner is another big part of this look. As vampy as it is, the cat eye wasn't really a 40s trend; noir dames tended to have a thin stripe over their upper eyelid in pencil or eyeshadow, though you could also do thin liquid liner.

Mascara! You also see women in movies with false eyelashes, though they're less extreme than the ones influencers wear today.

A little bit of blush on the cheekbone, blended down.

Finish off, if you want, with a vintage perfume, or something warm and amber-y.

For actual tutorials from the 1940s, check these out.

Here's my version:

#makeup #gpoy #noirvember

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heartseungbin · 2 years ago

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L.F

synopsis; you bought some new makeup just for your pretty boy, which he looks great in of course. So great you'd love to see how it looks running down his soft freckled cheeks.

This fic can be read with a gender neutral reader in mind.

"Hey Lix, i got somethin in the mail today." You bring the package towards your shared room, making the boy look up from his pc. "Really? Is it something for me?" He looks up at you from his place in his seat.

You hum, biting your lip. "I wanna try it." So here you are now, Felix sat snuggly on your dick with you facing each other. You apply a rosy shade of pink blush to match his adorably freckled cheeks and the cute peach sweater he has on.

He lets out a whimper as he gets moved a bit, making you fake frown. "Messed up your blush, now i gotta restart," You complain, knowing a small movement couldn't possibly have messed it up. "What's this?" he asks, picking up the mascara and inspecting it.

"Mascara, it's for the eyes. It makes your eyelashes pretty. Don't you wanna be pretty for me lovely?" You ask, tilting you head while looking at him. He whines looking away from you.

"Look up baby, i need to do your mascara. Don't blink." You say, leaning so close to him your able to see the heart shaped freckle on the side of his cheek. You thrust into him purposely, making him grab onto your shoulders and throw his head back.

"Lix!" you scold, "M' sorry, feels so good." He whimpers, attempting to rise a bit to take the pressure away from his prostate. "You're so full of love aren't you Lix? So cute love," His prettily long eyelashes flutter at praise, making him place a hand on your thigh for comfort.

"Poor Lix is so flustered from a bit of praise huh?" you tease, making him whimper. "Are you almost done? Feels so good," He slurs, already feelings so good despite you not moving. Poor boy gets so flustered from praise. With a dramatic pop of your lips you set down the mascara wand.

"Now for the finishing touch, some cute lipgloss i found that's just your shade." You coo, grabbing it from next to you and applying the sticky peach pink gloss to his plump lips. You kiss him, even getting the gloss onto your own lips.

"Oops, i gotta reapply it," you fake frown, making him sigh. You reapply the gloss for a final time, marveling at your work. The eyeliner and mascara make the boy look as pretty as a fairy. His glossed lips are so plump and delicously thick that you can't help but think about what else could be done with them.

"Im done sweet boy, have a look." You say, handing him the small mirror you prepared beforehand. His eyes light up, his small fingers going to his eyelashes to tug.

"Wow.." he says taken aback, looking back at you with big eyes. "You're so adorable Lixie, do you want your reward now?" you coo, brushing a stray hair behind his ear. He nods and puts down the mirror, looking back towards you in wonder.

"Gonna fuck you for doing such a good job keeping still." You say, flipping him around and staring at him from your position above him. He moans, grabbing onto the sheets below him as you start to fuck him.

"Feels so good," he slurs, looking up at you with the prettiest of tears in his deep brown eyes. "Crying already baby? We're just getting started Lix." You say, picking up the pace making his body jolt. He moans out, Throwing his arms around you and digging his nails into your back. "Please," He whimpers, biting his lip.

He brings a hand to his eyes to wipe at the steady flow of tears cascading down his face, smudging his carefully done mascara. "Should've bought waterproof mascara huh Lix? Messed up my hard work," you falsely pout, bringing a hand to wipe his tears for him further smudging the mascara.

"M' sorry," he stutters. "Feels s'good," he whimpers out, bring a hand over his mouth smudging the gloss there onto his cheek. "Look at you crying away all your makeup baby, it must feel good." You say, bringing a hand to toy with his nipples smudging gloss there too.

He lets out a string of moans, "Gonna come, please come with me," He begs, looking up at you with fresh tears in his eyes. "Come in me," he sniffles, meeting your thrusts half way. You groan, "Of course pretty baby." you coo.

ngl i was thinking of adding smth in where Lix holds the mirror while hes getting fucked lol but enjoy!!

taglist: @imrllytootiredforthis @queerpumpkinnn

i think this is like..the best thing ive ever written and its now 3:30 am so i shall head to bed asap after posting this lol

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 months ago

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Sanctuary - Chapter Five.

Are you ready for Lucas as a free man? Because here he comes! :)

Summary - It was a crime that shook the metal community and beyond to its core, the Solna Satanic murder case blowing apart the lives of many. With Lucas and Nils - frontman and drummer of popular metal band The Hanged - trialed, found guilty and subsequently sentenced, few were inclined to believe either deserved any offerings of a second chance. Lucas, in particular, did not consider himself worthy until salvation came in the form of a letter.

Words - 4,070

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of violence. Of course, it'll be smutty too, eventually! Minors DNI!

She’d set her alarm for six, but had been awake since 5am, much too excited to sleep. Doing a quick bodyweight exercise workout (a little of Lucas’s influence rubbing off on here there) she took a long, cool shower, tidying her bedroom nicely and then preparing to get ready. Even though she didn’t have to be at the prison until 8am, she planned to leave early.

“No, not the dress. Too sexy. Casual. I need casual but oh my fuck, the heat already!” she muttered, rifling further through the depths of her wardrobe. Settling on comfy yet cute, she chose Lycra shorts and a vest top both in black, with a plaid shirt knotted at the waist over the top. She pinned her hair up in a cute, messy bun before applying her makeup.

There, she wouldn’t be quite so casual in her choices, deciding on a nice set of feathery false eyelashes and giving herself a dark, bronze-brown smoky eye with lots of kohl, a little blush and highlighter too before finishing her look with a slick of tinted lip balm.

Lipstick would be pointless, for as soon as she saw him, the first thing she wanted was the kind of kiss that would ruin even the most smudge proof of cosmetics. The little ritual of her getting ready routine acted like a calming tonic, but every so often she’d picture his face in her mind and her tummy would somersault.

Checking her reflection once finished, she added a few pieces of jewellery, happy with how she looked, spritzing herself with perfume before jamming her feet into her Vans and taking a few deep breaths. 7:15am. It was time to leave, with her excited little heart thundering away in her chest.

With every kilometre that passed along her journey, the internal butterflies only grew wilder in their merry flutter. She could hardly believe that the letter she’d sent to him three years before had led to this, her being the one to fetch him from prison as a free man at last.

Her. She was the one he couldn’t wait to be with. Her. God, she was lucky.

As she approached the prison, the imposing structure and barbed wire fences seemed less threatening and more symbolic of the freedom that awaited Lucas beyond them. The sun was already beating down hard, making the tarmac shimmer, but Erika barely noticed as she parked her car and walked up to wait at the main entrance for him.

Even with a little traffic to contend with, she was still ten minutes early, pacing around while nervously twirling a loose tendril of her hair. Her heart raced with anticipation, every second bringing her closer to the moment she had been dreaming of.

“Oh, my fuck!” she squeaked, seeing him through the reinforced glass panes of the large doors emerging from within, those heavy security doors then buzzing open.

There he was. Tall, strong, and unmistakably different from the man who had first entered there twelve years prior. Their eyes met, and a thousand emotions passed between them. With a smile that could rival the sun, Lucas walked towards her, the burden of years behind bars melting away with each stride.

Placing the bag and bass guitar case he carried down on the floor, he opened his arms wide. “Fucking come here, then!”

She squealed softly with utter delight, running into his arms, clinging onto him as they shared elated laughter, Erika burying her face against his neck as he swung her around. Turning to him, finally, she received exactly what she’d been craving; the kind of kiss that knocked the wind right out of her.

Their mouths didn’t break apart at all as his hands glided down to the back of her thighs, lifting her neatly and cleanly from the ground again, Erika wrapping her legs around his waist as their tongues continued to roll together sensually.

Holy hell, the man could kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and grinning, she leaned her forehead against his, feeling the reality of his presence wash over her in a wave of overwhelming relief and joy.

“Hiya!” she finally chirped brightly, making him chuckle.

“Hi yourself, beautiful,” he beamed, kissing her again. “I guess I should put you down and let you drive me away from this place, but I kinda don’t want to right now.”

“How about you give me another of those kisses until you do?”

Her suggestion was accepted, their mouths pressing together again. Inside, the glow he felt was unsurpassed. He was free, with the woman who’d shown him such unwavering support clung on against him, the heat from her body so closely pressed to his having the kind of effect that he’d expected. His heart raced even more rapidly than just her presence alone had caused, happily lost to the gentle, yet heated kisses they shared.

“Oh, so I’m not being put down any time soon, then?” she asked when they parted, Lucas shifting her around to his hip before reaching for his bag. Swinging it over his shoulder, he then picked up his guitar case, looking at her adoringly.

“Not just yet, no.”

“But I’m heavy!” she exclaimed.

Immediately, he scoffed at such a notion. “Bullshit, you’re not at all.”

For a man who lifted the kind of weights he did, she probably wasn’t. He carried her with complete ease, Erika feeling tiny in his grasp, which for a girl of 1.75 metres tall was virtually unheard of. She’d always been as tall or taller than any other man she’d previously been involved with, and none of them had been strong enough to carry her like she was a small doll.

Lucas, at a towering 1.93 metres tall, and what she estimated to be around 140kgs in weight, was vastly different.

“Wow, that’s a motherfucking cool car!” he exclaimed, setting her down beside her beloved motor. Being someone who took more than a passing interest in muscle cars, he knew what it was, the striking, gun metal painted vehicle a 1967 Ford Galaxie 500. “This is the one you did up with your dad, right?”

“Correct,” she confirmed, popping the trunk, the space big enough to fit both his guitar case and bag. “He bought it as a wreck at a car show down in the Netherlands and drove it all the way up back up here on a low loader. Worth it, considering he paid about four thousand euros for it as a heap. It’s worth about four times that now.”

They climbed in, fastening their seatbelts as Erika continued. “It’s fast as hell, too. We took out the standard engine and put in a big-block V8, so it has some power.”

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, looking a little pained. “Stop it. You’re a beautiful woman who knows her stuff about cars. I’m getting way too turned on!”

“It does naught to sixty in seven seconds,” she playfully revealed, bobbing her tongue between her teeth.

He groaned, prompting her giggles. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll be fucking doing naught to sixty in seven seconds, too. I promised you twenty-five.”

Leaning to him, she gave him a few kisses through her laughter. “Sorry!”

He curled his lip, gently biting hers. “No, you’re not. Motherfucking terrorist upon my male hormones.”

“And you think you’re fair on mine, do you, looking the way that you do right now?” Smoothing her hand over his chest, she could have died on the spot. Oh, to touch him! To see more of him, too, his gorgeous, bulky arms and thick chest, shown off nicely in the black vest he was he was wearing.

Nope. Her hand didn’t stop stroking for a moment. “This chest is next level sexy.”

He looked her up and down, winking. “I grew it just for you, baby girl.”

The air truly crackled between them, Erika feeling less and less like she would be able to hold herself back, should sex be on the agenda. Why should she, either? She was a grown woman of thirty, knew Lucas was in it with her for more than just a quick lay, so why not?

Leaning for another kiss first, she turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring into life. Since Alex was out at work until 6pm that evening, and in his haste to prepare everything for his friend’s homecoming had forgotten to have spare keys to his apartment cut, they were spending the day together.

Lucas had said he wanted his first day of freedom to be low key, that he’d get around to visiting with the few people left in his life in the days to follow. She was really touched that she was the person he prioritised to be around first.

Sitting there comfortably, his hand rested on her thigh while gently stroking the soft, bare flesh with his thumb, he felt whole. More so than he had in a long, long time. With every kilometre that passed, spiriting him further and further from the place he’d been confined to for the past twelve years, a shimmer of restoration flooded his veins.

It was an odd feeling, knowing that while the prison had acted as just that, confining him from all he knew and loved, equally, it had been his sanctuary for a long, long time, too. It had put a divider between him and the vying mob who likely wanted his blood spilled after what he had done, kept him safe, nurtured his regrowth from troubled young man to the well-adjusted, fully grown one he now was.

Looking to his side, he smiled at the woman who he now very much saw the same way. Erika’s devotion to their burgeoning bond truly had been a safe sanctuary for him, too. Now, he was free to revel in it, and he couldn’t have been more elated.

Here it was at last. His second chance to make something of his life after his actions had robbed him of so much of it.

As they drove along the winding roads, the morning sun casting dappled shadows through the trees, Erika could sense a palpable shift in his demeanour. The lines of tension that had often etched his face seemed to soften with each passing moment, his gaze more serene as he took in the surroundings of his freedom.

They spoke of everything and anything along the journey, their words a balm to the wounds of the past, a testament to the bond they had formed and were now ready to work upon further.

“How do you feel?” she asked, manoeuvring the car onto the highway, away from the more rural surroundings of green and gold.

“Unburdened,” he replied simply, hand gently squeezing her thigh. He’d rested it there before they’d even left the prison carpark, making no effort as yet to move it. “Ready to start all over again.”

The beginning of that start was firstly to fuel his rumbling stomach, Lucas much too excited to eat at breakfast that morning, so telling Erika to find somewhere decent and he’d pay.

In his last visit, Alex had left a number of personal possessions he wasn’t allowed to have while in the prison with the booking wardens, ready for his release. These included a new cell phone, his thick silver curb necklace, his Mjolnir pendant, chunky silver rings and watch, plus a new wallet he’d stuffed with some of his savings' cash.

Their destination place was a small restaurant not too far from her tattoo shop, Erika managing to find a parking space and swinging the car in. They walked down to the eatery with the earthy, hippie vibe hand in hand, Lucas experiencing a little inner tension.

He didn’t know what the hell he would do, should somebody recognise him. Obviously stand his ground and be polite in the face of hostility, that was a given, but how he’d actually word a comeback to any negativity was beyond him.

It felt as if he wore a neon light above his head, the word murderer illuminated there for all to see, yet many people on the busy street passed him by without a second glance. To them, he was simply a big, tall, tattooed guy, walking hand in hand with a beautiful, tall, tattooed woman.

“What the motherfuck is a cronut?” he exclaimed, frowning as he read the menu before him a few moments later, sat at a table in front of the restaurant.

Ahhh, yes. There would be certain things that had passed him by while serving his sentence, new food fads being just one of them. “It’s a mix between a croissant and a doughnut. They’re not that good.”

“Noted. I think I’ll just stick to eggs. I know where I am there.” He chose them scrambled, with a side of turkey bacon, sourdough rye toast and steamed vegetables, Erika admiring him for his commitment to eating healthily. Taking the first mouthful, too, he saw that while prison food hadn’t been outright awful, it was still nowhere near as good as what was before him on that plate.

Or maybe it had something to do with it being his first meal as a free man. Perhaps a little of both. He couldn’t deny though as he sat out there, he felt a tiny bit on edge.

“You look, I dunno,” she observed, spearing the last piece of her pancakes with her fork. “A little tense?”

Picking up his coffee, he took a swig, the corner of his mouth upturning a little bit. It was more grimace than smile, though. “I guess I’m just waiting for somebody to recognise me, and the reaction they’d have to that.”

Reaching for his forearm, she rubbed it affectionately. “Don’t be nervous about it. Just shut them down, it’s none of your business.”

“I’m not nervous,” he stated, scratching his beard. “Merely apprehensive.”

“Well, don’t be that, either.” It was his first day as a free man; the last thing he needed was to feel anything close to negativity, although she understood why he might.

“Listen, I know for you, you were trapped in one place where your life wasn’t able to move on while confined, but for other people? It’s different. Their lives have moved on, there’s been other things to arise in the last twelve years to pull their focus. Trust me, people aren’t discussing the Solna Satanic murder like they used to.”

Her measured wisdom gave him pause for thought, Lucas slowly beginning to nod. She was right. While he’d remained in the same place, both physically and often mentally, the society who’d so reviled and condemned him had moved on. Could he say for certain he’d never receive backlash? No. Would it likely occur as much as he was anticipating? Also no. At least, he hoped so.

He was just about to thank Erika for her sage words, when, as if cosmically timed...

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re Lucas Borgström, aren’t you?”

Looking to his side, he felt his spine grow a little rigid, until noting the expression on the face of the girl who’d asked him. Starstruck.

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Oh god! I thought it was you, but you look so different to how you did! Fuck, I can’t believe you’re out of prison now, wow! Can I get a picture with you for my blog, please?”

He hated to let her down, seeing the honest excitement there in her. She was so young still, too, probably only in her late teens. “Sorry, no. I don’t want anything ending up on the internet just yet. Trying to keep a lowish profile for a while.”

She looked a little deflated, but accepted without fuss. “I didn’t realise, I’m sorry,” she apologised, Lucas shaking his head.

“S’okay, it’s fine. It’s just my first day out so I’m adjusting, don’t really want any attention, y’know?”

“Okay, no problem. It was great to meet you, Lucas.” She smiled, waving, acknowledging Erika with a little nod too before walking away.

Immediately she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that, huh?”

He crinkled his nose a little, scratching the back of his head. “Hmm, wasn’t expecting that.”

“No, because your immediate default is to be down on yourself,” she spoke gently, hand returning to rest on his arm. He moved it, entwining his fingers with hers instead, squeezing softly.

“Again, you’re right, I do. Thanks, baby. For calling me out on it.”

As Erika's touch grounded him, he couldn't help but marvel at the strange mixture of emotions swirling within. The encounter with the young fan had been unexpectedly positive, a stark contrast to what he'd anticipated. He wouldn’t immediately feel an internal change, knew he’d always be waiting for someone to confront him, or clandestine whispers and disapproving glances to be directed toward him.

However, one thing he could reply on was knowing Erika's unwavering support would serve as his compass, his true north. Smiling at her across the table as she finished her latte, he felt a glimmer of optimism breaking through his apprehension.

They stayed for another coffee, enjoying the shade from the nearby trees on what truly was a sweltering summer morning.

“Someone’s in demand,” he spoke, nodding toward her phone. It had been emitting a series of little pings all morning, yet she hadn’t bothered checking it much.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on silent.”

“No, no, s’okay. I wasn’t complaining,” he assured her, “just noticing is all. Work emails?”

Unlocking the screen, she took a look at her notifications. “A few, yeah. Mostly these are comments and likes on my Instagram page, though.”

Immediately, he held out his hand, eyes widening a little. “Show me? I haven’t seen anything regarding your work other than the sketches you sent with your letters.”

His enthusiasm flattered her, opening the app and handing her phone to him, Lucas beginning to scroll through. With every image that passed, his eyebrows only rose higher.

“That’s insane, seriously.” Turning the screen, she saw the gigantic back piece she’d recently finished for a client, all gone in dotwork. It had been one of her most challenging accomplishments to date, Erika truly thriving on the task presented to her in her specialised field of that tattooing style. He continued his scrolling, closing his eyes suddenly with a very deep, yet quiet little groan. The screen was turned again.

“Ahh, that’s Nicki practising her photography skills and using me as a model. That was the weekend away we had recently, just after I got back from England.” The picture that had captivated him so much was one of her posing at the edge of a hot tub, her legs looking impossibly long, hair tumbling in a dark, wavy cascade, green eyes glittering like peridots in the sun.

“You are unbelievably sexy. Tell me, how many more pictures of this am I likely to find? Just so I know how many buckets of water I have to go and ask the people of this establishment to throw over me?”

“A couple.” she giggled, resting her chin on her hand, she observed him keenly, quietly laughing more when he made much the same reaction a few further pics down.

Shifting in his seat as he looked out from under his eyebrows at her. “You’re in so much trouble.”

“I am?” she teased innocently, her heart fluttering at the look of desire right there in his bright blue eyes. “Trouble I bet I can handle.”

“You’ll need to, after I get my twenty-five seconds of shame out of the way,” he chuckled, continuing to look through the pictures. Once again, the phone was turned, but this time to focus more on her professional art rather than the work of art he considered her to be. “You did that freehand?”

Studying the image of Japanese style dragon she’d done on a client’s leg about six months ago, her nod confirmed. “Umhm, I did.”

“Motherfucking show off.”

“I could say the same for you, you know. I found an old video of you on YouTube a while back, having a jam when you were about sixteen.”

Lucas’s style was very much borne of his admiration for the late Lemmy Kilmister, bass playing frontman of Motorhead, one of his favourite bands. Distorted and chord-heavy, just like his idol, he played more with a rhythm-based approach, even favouring the same make of bass, a Rickenbacker.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t adept in other playing disciplines, though. It was usually how musicians became as stunningly talented as he was, following a rich and diverse path with their influences.

He was thoughtful for a moment, trying to place which video she meant. “Is that the one where I’m jamming to Nutbush City Limits with Nils singing?”

Yes, that was indeed the one. “That’s it! Whatever anyone wants to say about Nils, I have to give him credit. The man has some serious pipes.” She’d gotten shivers, listening to the drummer boom out the classic rock n’ roll song. It made her wonder why he’d chosen to be a drummer, with a voice like that. When Lucas had later joined in, singing with him, she could see very much though why he was the frontman. Wow.

It also fascinated her, that the guys in The Hanged were such true appreciators of music in so many forms and genres. Loud, blistering metal had made them famous, but their skills far extended beyond their chosen medium.

“Yeah, yeah. Nils is crazy talented. Plays so many instruments, has a great voice. He takes people by surprise, y’know? He’s probably one of the most talented musicians I know.”

His eyes saddened a little then, Erika spotting it immediately. “You really miss him, don’t you?”

The truth of that hit him hard in the chest for a moment. Since they’d been sent to different prisons, and inmates were not permitted to have contact with others within the system, it had been twelve years since they’d been in touch.

“I do, yeah. I really do. I miss who he was before all of this shit happened, before we both went down the wrong path. People say that he was always dark, something a little sinister about him, yadda, yadda, yadda. I suppose that’s true, but it didn’t define him, y’know? He used to be so giddy and larger than life, and that laugh of his. I’d crack up just to hear the guy whooping and screaming with laughter!”

Her smile was soft, cocking her head to the side. “Let’s hope that same Nils you remember so fondly is the one who’ll eventually be released, hmm?”

He could only agree, and truly hope so, too.

Leaving not long after, they headed to a place Lucas had been missing sorely since his time away, Erika driving them over to Tyresta National Park, a beautiful landscape of natural beauty.

They walked hand in hand through the gorgeous surroundings, their time there a serene interlude, a moment of reflection and connection with nature's embrace. For Lucas, it was a much-needed balm, absorbing the tranquil beauty around them. There, he truly felt the encompassing comfort of freedom embrace him in a comforting cocoon.

The air was a little fresher there although the heat still mildly stifling, filled with the scent of pine and the distant murmur of a flowing stream. Beneath the feeling of tranquillity, though, the burn of desire only began to glow further, a red-hot ember that tumbled between them with every kiss, every word delivered in flirt, every glance of unadulterated want for one another.

Leaving at just past midday, they arrived at Erika’s just before 1pm. Turning to her in the small hallway of her charming little bungalow, no words were exchanged, a gaze of pure wanton desire lingering.

He thought he’d be the one to dive upon her first, but it was her who grabbed him by the front of his jeans and hauled him near, their kisses immediately feral. Some might think it too quick, but for them, this had been building and building for three long years, the need in them now burning like a match dropped too close to a source of accelerant.

Little would stop the fire that had now been lit between them, if anything at all.

A/N - Did you like what you just read? If so, please reward your author with a little comment or a reblog. Your support would mean so much to me!

Next Chapter

#original fiction #original story #original stories #original novel #romance fiction #metal music #metal guys

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vonteasevintage · 3 months ago

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The Icon Ahead of Her Time: The Secret Behind Marilyn's Infamous Look

(Photo credit to Harpers Bazaar)

For such a clean, crisp look that pinup icons are notorious for, it's not as simple as it appears. Marilyn Monroe's main makeup artist, Allan 'Whitey' Snider, came up with some of the best tips to create the iconic look Marilyn is known for. A look that would pave the way for the go-to for pinup basics for makeup.

In this post, discover some of Marilyn's hacks on how to create this natural yet glamourous look.

Laying down the foundation for any makeup application is important. Starting with where it begins...the skin.

In today's society people are obsessed with dermaplaning; removing the peach fuzz due to aesthetic reasons for makeup. Marilyn on the other hand embraced the effect that the peach fuzz could do for her on camera and with her makeup. She could see that the tiny hairs actually created a blurring effect, which created a glow of sorts when underneath harsh studio lighting - no blurring makeup products needed!

We also know how vital it is to hydrate the skin when prepping the skin for makeup application. Did you know that Marilyn used Vaseline primarily under her makeup to keep moisturized and like a primer, as well as using it to create a highlight on her cheeks, as well as after applying her eye makeup? If you have a bit of oily skin trouble, this may not be the best thing to do , and there are products to achieve the same desired results, but this was what she used that worked for her.

This leads us to the eyes.

Marilyn would use white cream from her eyelid to her brow bone for every look she would do. In pinup, white is often used to open the eye to create the big, open eye look iconic to pinups.

That being said, not only was white used for colour and highlight on the lid and brow bone area, but it was used as eyeliner on the bottom water line!

Another incoming fact about Marilyn's methods...she didn't use just one shade of eyeliner...she used three! For the main wing on her lid, she used classic black eyeliner which is typical for creating that winged stroke of wonder. But she also used a brown to create that light, what appears to be a drop shadow casted by her eyelashes. This was an illusion she used to make the eyelashes look emphasized, by making the viewer believe they were the culprits for creating that dropshadow. Nay, that was the art of eyeliner. The third of course, being the white eyeliner as mentioned previously on the lower waterline to open the eye.

That technique being used , added with the right set of falsies nowadays would be a deadly combo. Speaking of false eyelashes...

Many make the mistake of going balls to the wall when picking out false lashes to wear. The idea you should go for - besides avoiding doing eyelid pushups - is a more natural glamourous look. So, nothing too dramatic. What Marilyn would do to keep the natural appearance to the lashes, is that she would actually cut the lashes in half and apply them only to the outer part of the upper lid. Think about it... when we do our winged liner, we are creating the illusion of that part of the eye being elongated and emphasized. That being said, the placement of the lashes only being placed on that part of the eye makes complete sense.

Well now, thinking about how fabulous one will appear with that handy-dandy trick makes one want to blush...

Did you know that Marilyn used blush as a means to contour her face? We don't normally contour our face in the modern sense of the term since it creates too harsh of lines, but she used it sparingly on her cheeks and a smidge to the tip of her nose. This created a more natural appearance as well a hint of warmth. To top it off, she did use a finishing powder to add a bit of glow to her appearance.

Now, for the part that is another infamous pinup staple: The iconic red lip.

Marilyn's red lip was achieved using a multi stage process.

Beginning first with creating the perfectly crisp lining, Marilyn would use a lip brush to line her lips. This can be done either with brush or with a lip pencil. Regardless, make sure either method contains a fine, sharp tip for precision.

For the fill, she would actually do a form of lip contouring. You know that thing we were blown away by a few years ago and some companies made double ended products to create a lip ombre / contour? Marilyn did it first. Sorry y'all, the 50's was the birthplace of that technique. Marilyn would use darker shades of red towards the outer part of the lips, and use lighter towards the middle. This created the contoured/ombre effect. To top it off, she would then put a very little bit of white in the middle on the bottom lip to create a highlighted effect, and a clear coat of gloss over top of her lips to create that sparkling, glossy effect. Albeit in pinup, we normally use matte lipstick and try to avoid using shimmery shades as well as shiny glosses. For Marilyn, though? She made it work and was absolutely glamorous doing so.

If you've survived this far in reading, I commend you and I hope you enjoyed reading this little tidbit of information behind what went on to achieve such an iconic look.

xo Bree Von Tease

#marilyn monroe #marilyn #makeup #makeup tips #pinup #pinup makeup #pinup tips #vintage #history #retro #glam #glamour #1950s style #1950s #tips #tips and tricks #breevontease #vonteasevintage

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alexcsuprstr · 6 months ago

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Two Lightning Storms

I have no idea how to format on this app :/

Alex isn’t a party girl. She would rather spend New Year’s Eve with a good book and a hot chocolate. But someone else has other ideas.

Pairing: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

Category: Romance, fluff

2.7k words

“You picked your outfit yet?” Casey asked as she re-entered the room, towel-drying her long red curls. The outfits sprawled out consisted of thin dresses, bedazzled jeans, short skirts, and sparkly tops. Alex threw the redhead a wide-eyed look, shrugging her shoulders.

Casey abandoned the towel on the dresser, sauntering over to pick up a few of the offending items. “Dress?” Alex tilted her head and squinted at her best friend.

“Okay, guess not.” She huffed, hanging the dresses back into the wardrobe. She then held up the skirt, a dark brown number with a black long-sleeved square neck shirt. Alex thought for a second, picturing herself in the outfit. She liked the top, but the skirt she was iffy about.

As Casey continued to pull out outfit after outfit, Alex settled on the black long-sleeve with a pair of black leather pants. Casey quickly moved onto the topic of shoes, to which Alex quickly chose her favorite black-heeled ankle boots.

While changing, Alex’s thoughts lingered on the ‘wearing Casey’s clothes’ part of the night. She took a look in the mirror on her bedroom wall, adding a few pieces of jewelry. She finally deemed herself ready and made her way over to the bathroom, knocking before she entered.

Casey stood in front of the mirror applying eyeliner, a false eyelash sitting off to the side, not forgotten but not wanted yet. The top half of her hair was pulled into a pony, with a black bow tied in. She had put on a black sparkly mini skirt with a black crop top. She had spread body glitter across her legs, arms, and stomach. Alex had to forcibly pull her eyes up to the redhead’s face, “I called Olivia and George, they’ll meet us there.” Casey had told Alex to invite a few friends so she didn’t feel awkward when they found Casey’s friends.

“Great, Abbie and Serena are gonna pick us up, and Ferdi and Teddy will be there when Teddy finishes his shift.” Casey had met Abbie and Serena in similar circumstances as she had Alex: running into them in the halls during her first few weeks. Teddy was an old friend from law school, and Ferdinand was an old colleague from the cafe Casey used to work at. Casey finished applying her eyelashes before beckoning Alex towards her. “You want some?” She held up the tube of glitter, waving it in front of the blonde’s face. Alex smirked, taking the tube from between Casey’s perfectly manicured fingers.

When Alex leaned against the bathroom counter, admiring the sparkle of her skin, Casey began to play with her hair. She pulled two pieces from the front and began constructing two small braids that framed her face. She scooped the remaining hair back into a ponytail, smoothing it back with a hairbrush. “You’re so pretty, Ali.” Casey whispered as she played with the two braids. Alex felt her heart start to race, and she swore Casey’s face was getting closer.

A knock at the front door startled them, and they jumped back from each other, Casey running to the new distraction. Alex followed, lingering in the living room to pick up her coat and her purse. Casey had given her an itinerary to add to her purse: cash, ID just in case, lip gloss, a tampon, again just in case, and the body glitter.

“Where’s the club virgin?” Abbie asked from the open doorway. “She’s not a club virgin; she’s just not as fun as we are.” Casey teased, leading the two women over to Alex.

“Alex, this is Abbie and Serena. Guys, this is Alex.” Casey gestured her hands back and forth, tapping the kitchen counter for Alex to approach. Not sure what to do with her hands, she offered one to Serena, who took it warmly, then to Abbie. Both women smiled as they exchanged pleasantries.

“Are you ready yet, Case?” Abbie asked impatiently, leaning over the kitchen counter as Casey applied her lip gloss and checked her hair in the oven reflection. “Have patience, Ab, it takes time to look this good.” she paused, rubbing her lips together, “You ready, Ali?”

Alex nodded, grabbing Casey’s leather jacket and shoulder bag for her, making sure to grab her keys. She handed the woman’s belongings over, receiving a beaming smile in thanks.

Alex locked the door behind them as they headed downstairs to Abbie’s car. Casey opened the door for Alex to climb into the backseat next to Serena before getting into the passenger seat herself. Abbie started the car while Casey connected a playlist through the speakers.

“Have you really never been to a club before?” Serena asked, turning to face Alex. She shook her head and began explaining that she had never really understood the party scene and would rather spend her Saturday nights curled up with a good book and a hot chocolate. She conversed with Serena for the majority of the journey, bonding over small similarities in their interests. She noticed the redhead glance at her a few times in the side mirror, smiling to herself as she listened to the two blondes.

By the time they got there, Casey and Abbie led the way over to the side of the building, where they met Teddy and Ferdinand, stealing a quick cigarette before going into the club.

“Hey! Got here in one piece!” Ferdinand cheered. He was tall, with unruly brown curls and a soft French accent. He pushed off the wall to give Abbie and Casey hugs, pecking their cheeks as he passed the rest of his cigarette to Casey. He moved over to Serena, giving her the same hello he did the other two women. When he looked over to Alex, he politely introduced himself, opting straight in for a hug instead of the courteous handshake Alex was ready for.

“No kissing Ferdi, she’s off limits,” Casey warned playfully as she exhaled the smoke from her lungs. He turned around, keeping an arm draped over Alex’s shoulder. “She’s your girl?”

Casey visibly blushed before taking another drag, “No, but she’s new to the scene, so don’t scare her before she’s even inside!” Alex couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. It reminded her slightly of herself and George.

As Casey finished the cigarette, they made their way inside, Alex sending Olivia and George a quick message to let them know she was there. She quickly got a ping in return from George, signaling that they were already inside the bar. As they checked their coats in, Casey gently pulled Alex’s lip gloss from her purse and swiped it across the blonde’s lips, not noticing the skyrocketing of Alex’s heart rate. “There, perfect.”

After learning the club had three floors with eight separate rooms, Alex again messaged her friends to check on their location. She informed Casey, who led their group to go and find them. When they entered a room on the second floor, Alex quickly spotted the two brunettes at the bar, talking about something or other. As Ferdinand and Abbie dispersed to get the group’s first round of drinks, Alex pulled Casey by her arm over to meet her friends.

Olivia must have sensed them as she turned to find them behind her, nudging George to look. They hugged Alex, complimenting her outfit and, of course, the glitter.

“Olivia and George, right?” The redhead smiled, holding out her hand, “I’m Casey.” The two of them shook her hand and offered them both a drink. “It’s alright, Casey’s friend went to the bar.”

“Shots then?” Olivia asked with a devious smirk, she had never seen Alex Cabot drink and was silently hoping tonight might be her chance.

Alex shared a glance with Casey, who shrugged, “Sure.”

“Tequila?” Alex offered.

“Have you ever had tequila?” Casey asked, failing to hide the laugh from her voice.

“Yes, have you?” She quipped. She hadn’t.

“Every Saturday or so.”

Once the shots were ordered, poured, and shared, George passed Alex the salt, and Alex could do nothing but stare at it and then at Casey.

Casey and George laughed at the bewildered look on the blonde’s face, trying desperately to compose themselves, “Liar. Lick the back of your hand and pour some salt on the wet patch.” Alex did as she was told, baffled but intrigued.

“Pick up your shot.” Casey instructed, “Lick the salt from your hand, take the shot, and then suck the lime.”

They all clinked their miniature glasses before completing the ritual, all making faces while squeezing or sucking limes into their mouths.

“You took that like a champ. You’ve never done that before, my ass!” Casey giggled in her ear. Alex’s stomach fluttered from the proximity, just as it always did. Abbie brought the two women’s drinks over, giving the cop and the psychiatrist a quick hug and a catchup. “Come on, Teddy’s getting shots, you guys coming?” She offered to Olivia and George, who quickly shook their heads, “We had a couple waiting for these two. We’ll come over in a few minutes, though,” Olivia assured, not wanting another just yet.

“I’ll stay and chat for a couple minutes,” Alex said with the same intentions, “You go, I’ll be there when you’re done.” She put her hand on Casey’s glitter-covered forearm, squeezing it gently. Abbie took Casey’s hand and pulled her through strings of drunken bodies, “Looks like you’re taking two!” She teased as Casey rolled her eyes.

Alex watched her go, her eyes stuck on a particular part of her lower body as she slipped out of view.

“She seems great. She’d be good for you.” Olivia voiced the thought as Alex’s head whipped around, her ponytail hitting her cheek, “What?”

“She would, Al. Come on, you can’t say you’re not the least bit into her.” George agreed, taking a sip of his cocktail.

“She’s twenty-three, that’s way too young. And besides, she’s my best friend; I don’t want to destroy that for a chance she might feel the same.”

Olivia and George gave her matching glares, “You’re twenty-seven, Alex, not fifty. It’s New Year’s; kiss her at midnight, and if she doesn’t feel right, play it off as just a midnight kiss.” Alex mulled over her friend’s words for a few moments, promising to think about it.

The three of them finished their drinks and wandered through the crowd to find Casey and her friends. Alex found the redhead dancing with Serena and Teddy, the three of them holding hands, rolling their hips, and laughing in a triangle of sorts.

“Hey,” Alex whispered in Casey’s ear, “Having fun?” Casey turned, pulling Alex and her friends into their triangle, making it into more of a circle. Abbie and Ferdinand were back at the bar, both heavily flirting with the bartender as she prepared their drinks.

“Dance with me?” Casey pleaded, clasping Alex’s hands and pushing them outwards as she tried to get Alex’s body to sway with hers. “I can’t dance, sunshine.” She was too afraid of how foolish she might look and probably feel.

“It’s easy, just follow my lead.” Casey pulled her away from someone before he walked into her. She placed her hands gently on Alex’s hips, pushing and pulling them from side to side in sync with the sexual song that was playing. Olivia watched with muted amusement as Casey let Alex’s hips continue on their own accord, taking her hands instead. “There you go, you’re dancing, Ali.” Ferdinand brought over another round of shots, handing them out. Thankfully, they were low volume and fruity, Casey’s apple and Alex’s cherry.

As quickly as she’d found it, Alex lost her rhythm and her confidence. Casey noticed and leaned in, “Just watch.” She moved back over to Serena and Teddy, effortlessly drifting back into the song, her body doing whatever it felt like. Alex watched intently as her hips rolled and drifted from one side to another, her arms doing their own thing. She looked like she was a part of the music, flowing with the beat easily.

She came back over to Alex, “Wanna go get some fresh air before we try again?” Alex nodded, turning to let her friends know that she would be back soon.

Outside, they sat down on a bench as Casey pulled out a cigarette and her lighter.

“You don’t have to worry about looking foolish, you know. Everyone in there is too drunk to notice anything other than the urge to throw up or the pants they’re looking to get in.” Casey reassured her, taking a long drag.

“I know, I just didn’t want to look foolish in front of your friends.” Or you.

“You look great, I promise you. My friends seem to love you anyway, don’t panic. Even Teddy said you’re cool, and he tends to keep his compliments to himself.”

“That sounds a lot like Olivia and George. They seem to approve of you, too.”

“That’s good; I was afraid I’d have to give them my CV to get them to like me.” Alex laughed to herself, “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“You up for another drink, counsel?” Casey asked with a grin as she put her cigarette end out.

“If you’re paying.”

“We alternate the tab every year; it’s Teddy’s turn this year. Don’t worry, he’s loaded. What do you want?” They made their way back inside as the ten-minute to midnight warning was announced. Casey took her over to the bar as she ordered their drinks. She sneakily asked for some shots, too, while Alex wasn’t listening. When the bartender returned, Alex’s mouth opened as she saw the shots in Casey’s hand, “Why?” She couldn’t stop herself from chuckling as Casey handed her one. It was different from the tequila, easier to get down but equally as disgusting. “What the fuck was that?”

“You’ve never had vodka?”

“Not in shot form!” Casey was giggling as she pulled another two from the bar behind her, “Oh god no, please! Casey!” Alex playfully whined through a fit of giggles.

“It’s Sambuca! It’s the better shot; it tastes like licorice, I promise.” Casey was having fun testing Alex with shots but was careful not to overload her to the point of a next-day hangover.

As Casey had promised, it did taste of licorice and was indeed the better shot. “Okay, let’s get away from this bar before you give us alcohol poisoning!” She pulled Casey back to their friends, determined to get a real dance with Casey before the countdown interrupted them.

The alcohol had quickly lessened her fears of looking stupid, and she boldly pulled Casey closer to her and started moving her hips into the redheads. She could see Casey’s face heat up when the lights hit her. Her newfound confidence had her hands on Casey’s waist before she knew what she was doing. She could feel her body’s reaction and gently moved her hands over the expanse of Casey’s exposed stomach as Casey turned around and pushed her hips into Alex.

They stayed in their little world until George tapped them, signaling the countdown was about to begin. They turned to face the rest of their group as the room began to count down from ten.

“…Three, Two, One! Happy New Year!” The room erupted in screams and cheers as confetti cannons popped from every corner of the room. Alex didn’t hear any of that. However, only her heartbeat pounding in her ears as Casey’s hand snaked around her neck and brought Alex’s lips to her own. She returned the kiss fervidly, feeling as though she were about to pass out from the heat.

Casey pulled back to breathe, “Happy New Year, Ali.” She grinned, wiping her lip gloss from the sides of Alex’s mouth.

“Shut up, sunshine.” Alex harshly pulled Casey’s mouth back to hers, taking in every movement.

Alex would trade in her lonely Saturdays for this any day.

#casey novak #alex cabot #calex #casey novak x alex cabot #law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #george huang #abbie carmichael #Serena southerly #wlw #nye2025 #are you seeing the vision?#fanfic

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honeyatsu · 2 months ago

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Loner (Junpei x Reader) 5

Masterlist | Prev

A/N:

Heyyy....hey. Sorry its super short. I am just practicing writing again. Srryyy, I'm using this fic to practice my writing. x

I don't know if I'm gonna keep posting on tumblr. I might just post the finished chapters on ao3. I am not sure yet!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Ino doesn’t knock when she arrives at your home. She texts you “i’m outside” , with too many emojis and exclamation points. A minute later, she’s inside your home. You can’t help but eye her up and down. She is wearing pink platform sandals, her pink hair twisted into the kind of perfect bun you’d see in a fashion magazine. She is glowing, the same way she always is. Something you’ve noticed is her natural aura somehow being enhanced when she’s excited, the same way she is now.

After entering your bedroom, she swings her glitter-covered makeup bag. It is weighed down by too many keychains and stickers of idols. She places her bag down on your vanity, slowly unloading her cosmetics bag as if she’s done it a hundred times (even though this is her first time in your home).

“I’m so excited!” she squeals softly. You can’t help but notice the expensive compacts she slams out of her bag.

“I brought this new coral tint!” she states. You see expensive compacts, glowy foundations, brushes so soft they look as if they were made by the finest of feathers. “You have to wear it. It’ll look so good with your yukata.” She pulls out the un-touched lip-tint. Ysl of all brands. You knew Ino was loaded, but for a teen to have the entire luxury cosmetic department store in her makeup bag surrounded by idols…even you were shocked.

You force yourself to smile, not wanting to show your discomfort in how casual and friendly she was being. You didn’t really consider her your friend. “Yeah.” you manage to get out, “sure.”

Your vanity is covered in luxury packaging, even the highlighters catch the light like gemstones. It’s overwhelming, but when you see Ino observing the objects she placed in front of her as if she is solving some sort of equation, you see she is in her element. She stares at each item like it’s a treasure, like nothing else but this moment matters to her.

As she is inspecting her products, you sit at the edge of your bed watching her. You wonder when was the last time you focused so intently on something. Maybe on a random art piece, a playlist you would make…when you find yourself staring at Junpei.

You quickly shake the image of his face from your mind. The last thing you needed was brain fog, to zone out thinking of him while Ino is in front of you. In your home. In your room. As you suspect the two have a crush on each other. You're so in your head, you don’t notice Ino holding up false lashes and a tiny pink eyelash curler while facing you.

“Can I do your makeup?” she asks, she is already leaning in with a primer stick. It’s unscented and the texture looks velvety. You can see it’s expensive. “I swear, I won’t make you look crazy.”

You nod. It’s easier to let her. You also don’t see her as vindictive or someone who would intentionally make you look like a fool. You can tell she wants to be your friend. She’s trying.

Ino leans in close, her fingers are gentle on your skin. She studies your face as she applies the products, she focuses on you as if you’re her canvas. She begins to title your chind upward, brushing her soft thumb over your brow. It’s more intimate than anything that has happened during cheer practice, she is studying you like she hasn’t before. Even though you spend so much time together – bodies learning to be in sync, it’s like for the first time, she’s memorizing your face.

“You have the prettiest face,” she says to you softly. Her face is still focused as she blends blush across your cheeks. You can’t help but to fight the roll of your eyes, but there was no stopping the little heat that creeped up into your cheeks. Ino then slowly applies the tint to your lips, making sure to apply it perfectly. “I’m going to let you keep this. You should wear it often. It makes you look so…sweet.”

In response, you mumble something along a “thank you” and a few stuttered words inbetween – unsure how to take the compliment. It’s not uncommon for Ino to throw out pretty words. She’s a cute girl who makes everyone’s heart flutter (Maybe that's why Junpei is so comfortable around her too). You usually find yourself immune to the pretty words that she recites like poetry, but somehow, this one lands. Whether it’s the intimate act of her treating your face like a masterpiece, her eagerness to come over and force herself into your circle outside of Cheer, or the fact that she is in fact, so cute. Not even you, no matter how hard you try, can help but be enamored by her too.

“There!” Ino’s focus is quickly broken. She beams at your – moving out of the way so you can get a proper look at yourself.

Your jaw almost drops at your reflection – you’re beautiful. You already were, you didn’t really find yourself insecure or unhappy with your appearance. But this look was different, you’ve never had your makeup done this well.

“You’re so good” You tell her, still inspecting your face.

Ino gives a smug look in return, stretching her arms as if her work is all done. “Let’s keep getting ready!”

After makeup, you help each other into your yukatas. Yours is pale pink with little goldfish swimming across the fabric, tiny trails of gold thread following their tails. Ino’s is mint green with white lilies. Ino ties her obi effortlessly, while you struggle with yours. She giggles to herself before she steps in to help you fix it, humming a soft song under her breath. Even her humming is adorable.

When you both nearly trip trying to step into your sandals, the two of you can’t help but laugh while staring at each other. You didn’t realize that this could be so fun. You didn’t realize getting to spend more time with Ino could be so easy. Standing next to her, the air smells like her vanilla perfume. Her radiant energy is seeping its way to you, and you can’t help but feel glad that you were forced into this moment.

Ino stops you before walking out of your door, she pulls out clips and starts to pin them into your hair. She fixes the strands around your face, and smiles into you. “I’m glad we are going together” she says, almost in a whisper.

You look back at her, a gentle smile formed on your face. “Me too.” You decided the one-sided combat was unnecessary. Ino is not your enemy, and Junpei is not yours to own. Whether there was something between them or not, you decided it wasn’t your business.

You feel lucky enough to now have two good friends by your side.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The lantern festival is already alive when the two of you arrive. Families, couples, groups of friends are scattered around – laughing, eating, cherishing moments with those who mean the most. The lanterns are glowing overhead like moonlight shimmering over water.

You and Ino walk through the crowd slowly, hands intertwined and sure to stick to each other's side. The two of you attempt to stay focused, trying not to be distracted by the cotton candy and grilled squid. As the two of you search for the rest of your group, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. You’ve hung out with your friends before, but this is a new group. You’ve hung out alone with Junpei, but how will he be around everyone else? Will he focus on Ino more than you?

You decide to stop wondering.

When you pass a mirror booth, your reflection catches you off guard. You mentally take note of the fact that you owe Ino a big one. Under the lanterns, your skin is dewy, your eyes are soft and bright. The coral tint looks like velvet against your lips.

You look beautiful. You are beautiful.

In the corner of your eye, you see Ino smiling smugly to herself. She caught you staring at yourself, admiring her work. She knows you look beautiful, and she’s glad you can see it too.

Ino really is not what you thought. There’s really more to her than peppy cheers, idol worship, and her fascination with Junpei.

When you see Junpei, your stomach drops. Suddenly, you feel as if your hair isn’t neat enough, your yukata too tight, does the lip tint really look good on you? Your heart is hammering against your chest, only slowing down when Ino gently squeezes your palm.

She waves at the boys, not looking at you as she tries to subtly calm your nerves. You try not to think about how she knew that you needed that.

Junpei smiles at you – warm, kind, and comfortable. Chifuyu and Hori are behind him, arguing who can win the most prizes and who owes who a snack. Junpei chuckles hearing what’s going on behind him, still not taking his eyes off you. This is the first time you’ve seen him be a part of a group outside of you, it warms your heart. You’ve always belonged , you think to yourself.

“Hey,” Junpei breaks the silence, pulling you into a hug. You ignore the rest of the group snickering around the two of you. You don’t miss the red tint forming on his cheeks as he pulls away – you ignore the heat forming against yours.

Chifuyu stands in-between the two of you, placing his arms around your shoulders. “Don’t be shy, show her!” he gloats.

You stand there awkwardly as Junpei shoves Chifuyu off him. “C’mon man…” he mutters out, eyes averting to the side. Hori and Ino are giggling beside each other.

“I want some taiyaki!” Hori chimes in. “Who else is hungry?”

Ino and Chifuyu agree, and the three of them start heading to the food stand. You were about to follow them before Junpei grabbed your wrist, stopping you from following the group.

His eyes are avoiding yours, “Can I..Can we go somewhere?” he asks. He finally turns to face you. He is nervous, and hopeful. His grip around you is light, yet firm. You nod your head in response.

Walking through the crowd, Junpei leads you to a secluded bench. The two of you sit, looking into the water. The lanterns are floating on top of the water, the reflection shimmering against your skin.

“You look very pretty.” Junpei blurts out. You turn to him, but he’s looking into the water.

“You’re not looking at me,” You attempt to reply back sarcastically, but it comes out soft.

You want him to look at you.

Junpei takes a deep breath before turning his head, his eyes quickly looking into yours. Both of your chests are slowly rising and falling, the two of you are frozen in place.

“I got you something” He spits out. He fumbles with his hands as he pulls out a pink lily of the valley hair clip. “The one you have now is…it’s beautiful on you. You don’t have to wear it now, but I think this would look beautiful on you too.”

You take out your current hair clip – hoping Ino doesn’t mind. You put in the gift from Junpei, fumbling with your strands, hoping for the best when it comes to your hair.

“How does it look?” You ask with a grin. His eyes flicker over you, mesmerized at your appearance. He looks down quickly, knowing he’s blushing. Your heart pounding increases more than before. It’s frustrating to you. You’re used to Junpei being squishmish and shy. Anything and everything makes this guy nervous, but it feels different now. This isn’t who you’re used to being, but around him, any guard you’ve had up is forcibly down.

Junpei looks back up at you, his eyes shimmering with the lantern lights. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.”

You give him a smile as you try to compose yourself. There is an explosion going on inside of you, you want to scream. You wan’t to shout praises and express admiration for Junpei, but you don’t want to scare him.

Calmly, you reply, “Thank you.”

The two of you sit there, looking into the water. The echoes of voices surrounding the two of you act as filler noise, replacing the comfortable silence between the two of you. It’s natural, your fingers slowly reaching towards each other, and your hands overlapping.

The rest of the evening is surreal. It’s a break from the real world you all need to go back to. The two of you meet up with the group, and it’s as if you’ve been a part of each other's lives forever. This moment feels unforgettable for everyone. The end of the night ends in a group photo, each of you taking one to bring home.

You feel it, something has shifted for you. It doesn't feel like you need to be there, but as if you belong there.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Your mom isn’t home. She makes sure to text you as you are out to remind you she is working late – again.

You figure it’s no use to end the night early, inviting Junpei over for a little bit. After changing out of your yukata, you and Junpei end up in your room. The lights are off, the only light being the glow of the movie playing on your tv. You’re curled up next to Junpei with a magazine in your eye, only kind of reading the words in front of you.

You can’t stop your attention from constantly falling on him.

He’s watching some scary movie you had lying around – one you thought was too annoying to pay attention to. It wasn’t something you would watch, but you knew he’d like it. You wanted to be near him tonight, so it was okay.

Your heart is loud in your chest, your finger is curling around the edges of the magazine you’re kind of reading. Reading the words over and over again, you can’t seem to calm yourself down. The next move you were about to make was bold, even for your standards.

You shift your full attention towards him, touching his shoulder so he would turn to you.

“Junpei,” you say after taking a deep breath, “Have you had your first kiss yet?”

He freezes, choking on air before he replies. “I –what? I mean, no…”

You nod coolly, trying to act as if it’s nothing. “Me either.”

You pretend to scan the article you’ve been reading over a dozen times since he’s been over. “Would you say I am important to you?”

He looks at you, confused. “Of course. You’re my best friend.”

You scoot, pressing your body against his. You hold the magazine against his face, showing him the column that focuses on the topic of one’s first kiss.

“It says here your first kiss should be with someone who is important to you. Someone who makes you feel safe. Doesn’t that make sense?”

He looks at the page, and then back at you. He is unsure where this is going, but he is not pulling away as you inch your face closer to his.

“What…what are you saying?”

“I think,” You slowly drag out, “We should be eachother's first kiss. If you are okay with it.”

The silence is heavy. You’ve never seen Junpei this unreadable. He begins to fidget with the hem of his hooding before looking down.

“Why?” he finally asks, breaking the silence. “Why me?”

You smile at him, trying to cover your confusion.

Why wouldn't it be him?

“You matter to me, Junpei. More than anyone. If it’s too weird…maybe we can think of it as practice?” You whisper the last part out. Fear of rejection is crawling up your throat, but you don’t remove your eyes from him.

Junpei finally looks up at you softly, slowly nodding his head.

“Okay” you whisper, slowly leaning in.

The kiss is soft – his lips are warm, the two of you explore each other. Each movement is unsure, but eager. The second your lips touch, everything around the two of you disappears. The two of you become one in that moment, and you feel Junpei’s hand slowly place behind your head, pulling the two of you closer. Your bodies slowly become intertwined, twisting into each other.

Your eyelids are heavy as you slowly pull away, both of you breathing heavily. The look of disbelief spread across both of your faces.

“I like you” You spit out.

Junpei stares at you as if you are speaking in another language. He opens his mouth, and then closes it. He’s at a loss for words, searching for how to respond.

“You don’t have to say anything…”

And he doesn’t. He takes his hand, and slowly begins to cup your face. His thumb brushes against your lips, reminding himself that this is real.

“You changed my life so much” He finally says. He is still holding you. “I like who I am with you…”

“Do you like me?” you ask.

“I do – I like you so much. But –”

You cut him off. You can’t handle a ‘but’, you can’t handle any form of rejection. Not when you just exposed the fact that your heart is held by his hands.

“I like you. You like me. Things don’t have to change.”

He doesn’t respond, he just continues to stare at you.

“Nothing has to change…as long as we’re here for each other. Okay?”

You take his hand and squeeze.

He looks down at your joined hands, lifting it up and pecking it. “Okay.”

And while the two of you are convinced nothing changes, the air around you feels different. It’s softer.

Just like the second kiss the two of you place upon each other.

<< | >>

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

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#jjk #junpei jujutsu kaisen #yoshino junpei x reader #yoshino junpei #junpei x reader #junpei yoshino #junpei x you #junpei x y/n

12 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 1 year ago

Text

Flashbang

Chapter 5 - Turn the Lights Off

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

Pairing: OPLA Buggy x f!Reader

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

Word Count: 9.6k

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Pippa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, he just stared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now or never, right?

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stunted development.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

“I-I um…”

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

“Oh, a compass!” you said.

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

“It tells you directions.”

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

“Um… Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

“Okay, so what direction are we going?”

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you I don’t know!”

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Er, yes, Captain Buggy,” Newt said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to hurry, sorry.”

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

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

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

“Captain Buggy?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

“No, sir. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s the fun in that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buggy snorted in amusement. “I figured.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why did you stop?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a good thing,” Buggy said.

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I got the night shift.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Marty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Any dizzy spells? Fainting?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

“Pads to put in your underwear.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”

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

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

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

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

“When was your last cycle?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It’s a matter of your health.”

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

“So he stopped it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like it?”

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

“You think you do?”

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

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

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

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

You sniffled. “You think so?”

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

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

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

“Yes?”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed nervously, tugging your bandana down.

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

“What kind of sea beast?”

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

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

“I damn near lost my arm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

That did not bode well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Captain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dead.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir,” you said.

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

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

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