#this fic is going to be so much fun now that I've settled on its gimmick

[basingstokemercury]

Trying to piece together information on Bajoran views of the afterlife, the little we get in one TNG episode isn't really enough

Do we know if they have a concept of reward and punishment for deeds in life? Specifically an idea of "hell"?

Do they believe that those who did evil in life are taken by the Pah-Wraiths after death?

[delusional-day-dreamer]

U My Everything - p.b

‣ paige x grumpy reader: part two here!

‣ wc: 3178

‣‣ synopsis: paige's harmless joke is taken a little too personally by her sensitive and grumpy girlfriend; slight angst? but very fluffy by the end! (the song is most relevant for the end part of the fic as it's inspired by KK's 05/31/24 live, can u tell I live for uconn lives?)

‣‣‣ a/n: I'M SORRY, i know y'all chose emily in the poll but I alr finished this one and I've promised myself I would try to release at least one fic a day; emily's will be out very very soon, writing smut for the first time is just very nerve wracking lmao. this is lightly based off the, good morning gorgeous, tiktok trend going around rn; Also, I'm so sorry for the amount of times I use y'all, like, literally, and really because I try to make my dialogue and what not as realistic as possible, but as a Southern Californian they're literally engraved into my vocabulary 😭😭.

Rolling over in bed half-conscious, your arms reach out, patting around the bed in an attempt to locate your girlfriend's warmth without having to open your eyes. However, to your sheer disappointment, your fingers are met with cold, rumpled sheets on Paige's side of the bed.

Now fully conscious with confusion as to how your girlfriend managed to slip from bed without you realizing, the pounding in your head became all the more severe as you sat up in bed, frustrated that the one person who could comfort you simply with their presence was nowhere to be found.

With your right hand massaging the temple, attempting to soothe the deep ache that had settled into the front portion of your head, your left hand blindly felt around your nightstand for your phone, knowing Paige wouldn't have left you alone in bed without so much as a simple text message. But to your surprise, her name was absent from your list of notifications.

Even more annoyed than before, you forced yourself out of her bed, stumbling your way to her adjacent bathroom, wincing at the sudden intrusion that was fluorescent lighting. By the time you began brushing your teeth, you heard the front door open, hearing Paige call your name as she entered the dorm.

"Bathroom," you yelled out to her, despite your head screaming at you to shut up and crawl back under the safety of Paige's comforter.

"Hey baby," Paige greeted as she entered the bathroom while you spit toothpaste into the sink, coming up behind you to hug your waist, resting her head on your shoulder. As you stood back up to meet her gaze in the mirror's reflection, you saw her tuck her bottom lip into her mouth, clearly trying to hide her shit-eating grin.

"Well don't you look... interesting this morning," she teased, the sarcasm apparent in her low voice. You knew her mocking was all in good fun, the two of you often poking fun at each other for little things. But perhaps it was the headache still waging war in your skull, or the final three midterms you had to take later today, or your remanent annoyance at having to wake up alone, despite her knowing your favorite part of the day was waking up, warm and all loved up in her arms, or perhaps it was the fact that looking in the mirror, you genuinely looked wrecked this morning.

Your curly hair was reduced to nothing but a puff of frizz overnight, sticking out in all directions, your eyebags particularly prominent this morning, combined with the pesky anxiety breakout that had settled into your forehead a few days prior, you just couldn't handle her jokes today.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out Paige," you shot back, setting your toothbrush back in its cup holder, exiting her hold to wipe your hands on the small towel before pushing past her to get dressed in her room.

Paige followed close behind you, curious as to why you were giving her so much attitude so early in the day, especially over such a harmless statement.

"What's up with you, this is the first time I've even seen you this morning," She questioned from her seat on the unmade bed as you began changing your clothes with your back facing her, which was another thing that struck out to her as odd. After dating for over a year now, the two of you were incredibly comfortable with each other, and it was rare for you to completely turn your back on her, even when changing.

"Nothing, I'm just not in the mood today," you grumbled, tugging your, her, sweatshirt over your head. Heading over to her floor length mirror with your makeup bag and necessary hair products in hand, you settle down on the floor in front of it, convinced to improve your appearance a bit before you head off to your exams today. Still ignoring Paige's presence in the room, you began getting ready.

Hearing her scoff as you started applying your makeup, she got up and began making the bed, intent on ignoring your bratty mood until you fixed it. You knew you were being petty and acting bitchy to your girlfriend, who had technically done nothing wrong, you just couldn't force yourself to drop the attitude. By the time you finished your makeup and smoothed out your slickback, you managed to go the entire twenty minutes without so much as looking at your girlfriend through the mirror, who had now perched herself on her side of the bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone.

Your headache hadn't subsided yet, but now that you were more awake, you had gotten used to the throbbing sensation. Making your way over to your side of her bed, you collected your phone, headphones, watch, school bag, and other items from your nightstand and around the area to get ready to leave.

"Your heading out already? You still have over an hour before your first class," Paige finally addressed you, putting her phone in her lap to look at you as you packed your things.

"Yeah I'm gonna head to the library early so I can review before my first midterm," You answered, speaking to her normally for the first time in the last hour she had returned.

"But what about breakfast, you're not gonna be able to concentrate and stuff when you're all hangry," she said, only slightly teasing you with her statement.

"I'll just grab something to eat from the coffee shop next to the library, I was gonna stop by and get matcha from there anyways," you responded, a small part inside of you glad that despite your attitude, Paige made sure that you were well taken care of.

"Dude I still don't understand how you drink that stuff, tastes like straight grass," she had dropped her concern and switched back to joking, her automatic setting. "But I guess it's fitting," she continued, "cause yk, cows just love their grass," she sighed, holding back her laughter at what she thought was a brilliant joke.

In her defense, if it was any other morning, you would've joined in on her teasing, either mooing at her in response or poking fun at her in return.

But today, it just ticked you off even further. I mean, you were clearly already in a bad mood, stressed the fuck out, hangry (but Paige didn't need to know she was right), and the sharp pressure in your head was only getting worse. Plus, Paige had already easily finished off her midterm exams two days prior, which meant she didn't truly understand why you were so worked up over your exams. And the worst part, your bloating and exhaustion really did make you feel a little bit like a cow.

“P I'm just not in the mood to deal with you right now," you sighed, exasperation laced in your tone. "I already feel bad enough this morning, I can't handle you piling more onto my plate, I'll see you later," you barely even said goodbye to her properly as you gathered your stuff, put on your shoes, and left her dorm.

The second you closed her door behind you, you could feel the pit forming in your stomach, full of regret and shame. You knew it was unfair to be so rude to Paige when she was just trying to lighten your mood, but your anxiety always caused you to last out at anyone who tried to help you. You made a mental note while walking to your favorite coffee shop to apologize and make it up to her when you saw her in the evening, after the stress from midterm week had diffused and your raging headache calmed down.

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

You were flipping through your study notes and flashcards while listening to one of Paige's playlist on the lowest volume possible when you saw your phone screen light up from next to you. Deciding it would be good to take a quick thirty second break, you reach for your phone and matcha latte at the same time, clicking on the text message you received from Paige.

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From P 💜:

I'm so sorry for making fun of you this morning baby, I know you're stressed about your tests today and I had no intentions of making you feel worse with my jokes, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit because I know how bad your anxiety can get. Good luck on your test today killer, i love you 🤍.

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Shit, now you really felt bad for snapping at her earlier today. All remnants of your misplaced anger had long since disappeared, now replaced with embarrassment. She was right, your anxiety was hitting you hard today, but that was no excuse for bitching out your girlfriend just for trying to improve your mood. You quickly hearted her message and began typing out a short response, as you knew you needed to apologize in-person for your behaviour.

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To P 💜:

Thank you so much P, I'll see you later tonight baby. I love you too 🤍

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***SMALL TIME SKIP***

You breathed a sigh of relief as you finally reached the floor of Paige's dorm room, exhausted from your long and mentally tiring day of midterms, but you were finally done, your headache was finally gone, and you now had the weekend to relax and spend time with your girlfriend.

As you reached for your keys in your pocket, you heard the loud commotion of voices that you recognized to be KK, Aubrey, Sarah, Allie, and Paige in the living room. It wasn't uncommon for the girls to be over, as the team always spent hung out together outside of practice, and since you started spending more time at Paige's dorm, you had quickly stocked her near bare kitchen full of snacks, baked goods, and home-cooked meals the girls loved to steal.

You entered the living room greeting everyone as you took off your shoes, making a beeline straight to where Paige was sitting on the couch. You stood in between the space of her legs, wrapping your free arm around her shoulders to lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey P," you spoke softly, looking down at the small smile that had settled on her face.

"Hey yourself, how were you midterms? Today was your last day right?" She questioned as her fingertips began running up and down the back of your legging covered thigh.

"They were fine, I think I did good on majority of them. My math midterm was a little shaky, but not too bad yk?" You answered her quietly, afraid to pop the little bubble of peace you two had created around yourselves among the chaos of the living room's occupants.

"I," you began, as your hand had made its way to the front of her face as you pushed back a small piece of hair that had escaped out of her bun. "Will you come in the room with me real quick?" You asked her, practically whispering at this point.

"Yeah of course baby," she answered quickly, letting her hand travel up your body to rest at the small of your back as she stood up, leading you past everyone to her bedroom.

"We'll be right back," she announced to the group as the two of walked by. "Oooo, Paige is in trouble," KK sang out as the two of you reached her closed room door, Paige still standing behind you. She turned the knob quickly, gently pushing you into the room first as she turned around to stick her tongue out at KK before she closed the door.

By the time she turned around from the door to face you, she barely had a moment to adjust to your body barreling into her, as you had already dropped your bag off next to her desk. She quickly wrapped her arms around you, being able to sense that you just needed to be held for a minute before speaking.

She lightly rubbed your back and shoulders with her hands, knowing exactly what it was that immediately calmed you down. You stayed silent in her comforting embrace for a few more minutes, having craved her touch all day when you were around campus.

"I'm sorry," you finally spoke up, unburying your head from her chest to look her in the eyes. "I was really rude to you for no reason this morning. My headache when I woke up and all the stress I had was completely unrelated to you, but I still ended up taking it out on you," you sighed before continuing, "I really appreciate the fact that you were trying to cheer me up this morning, even though I was being a total bitch. And you are never a burden or someone who adds more onto my plate, I love you and I'm so sorry I said that to you, I would never want you to feel that way and-" as your eyes began to well up with tears, the last of your apology was cut off by Paige.

"Hey hey it's okay baby," she pulled you slightly away from her as the tears began flowing from your eyes. "I know you," she maintained eye contact as she reassured you, "And I know you would never act like that normally, you are not a bitch. You were just stressed out and not feeling well. I understand, and I promise I'm not mad at you at all," her right hand moved up from your back to your face, wiping the tears streaming down your face.

"Thank you P, I have no idea what I would do without you," you sniffled lightly, your hand coming up to wipe your face as well. "I love you so much, you have no idea," you professed.

"I love you too y/n/n," she whispered as her hands wrapping around your waist as she pulled you into her, leaning down slightly to kiss you. Your hands flew up the moment your lips connected, one cradling her jaw while the other rested on the base of her neck. The kiss was slow and languid, an apology met with forgiveness as your lips moved together.

The loud rumbling of your stomach, interrupted your sweet moment with Paige, forcing the two of you to separate as a giggle slipped out of her.

"Didn't realize a small kiss made you that hungry for me," she smiled, now at peace knowing that you were no longer upset. "Shut up," you smiled back, lightly hitting her chest as you broke away from her. "I am for real hungry though, but I need to shower first," you told her as you moved around the room, grabbing your towel and a fresh pair of pajamas to change into.

"I'm pretty sure Aubrey is ordering Domino's so I'll tell her to add in something for you, and it'll probably be here by the time you get out," she kissed your cheek as you went to exit the room, heading for a quick shower as she remained in her room.

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

As you entered the living room, curls freshly washed, a soft pair of Paige's sweatpants resting low on your hips, and a small off the shoulder sweatshirt over your sleep tank top, you witness KK showing her tik tok live her "hips dance", if it could even be referred to as that.

"Oh wow," Paige commented dryly at the sight while getting up from the couch so she could grab her laptop from the kitchen counter. You moved past her to Aubrey's desk, grabbing a piece of garlic knots from the Domino's box she left partially open (i don't think she actually bought any but I'm craving them so i added it in here). You rested your hip against the table, waving at the live while KK queued up Sexyy Red on her Siri.

Everyone knew you and Paige were a couple, when Paige accidentally hard-launched you by posting a cute couples pic on her main instagram story instead of her close friends. But since then, the two of you kept a private but not secret relationship, very occasionally posting together, but fans often saw candids of the two of you on dates or together in the team's lives or other events.

You licked the remaining cheese and butter off your fingers as you watched Paige, KK, and Aubrey dance in front of the camera to "U My Everything", smiling at their so-called dance moves, especially Paige's.

"Man we go together tell them hoes we go together," Paige sang, before doing her little "attitude now walk" move, making you double over with laughter at her with the other two girls.

You scratched the back of your neck as you continued to watch the girls mess around, too tired from your day to join them, but content just from watching them. As the second chorus approached, Paige walked up to your leaned figure on the desk, grabbing your bare waist and pulling you into her as she sang.

"Bae, I love you, you my everything, I'm your main bitch, fuck a wedding ring," you laughed at her awful singing, but you couldn't deny the blush that rose to your cheeks at the thought of her singing you the lyrics while very clearly in the live's frame. "We both in fast cars and we switchin' lanes, when I'm away from you, you always on my brain," she continued, adding in her sassy facial expressions with the corresponding lyrics.

You couldn't help but laugh at her actions, the pure giddiness coursing through your veins was a complete 180 from your mood this morning, and you couldn't help but think there was nowhere that would make you happier than in her arms.

Thank you for reading all the way through! The recent support has been crazy and I appreciate all of you! Should I make a part two to this with smut so r can properly apologize to p.... 😏😏😏

[vbecker10]

What Prank?

Laundry Day (Loki x female reader Y/N)

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Loads of a Fun (Bucky x female reader Y/N)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You and Bucky plan a week's worth of pranks to get back at Sam for telling Bucky the toaster was voice activated. A few days in, several members of the team decide to join in on the pranks without even questioning who is behind it.

A/N: So in Laundry Day (linked above) I wrote an off hand little comment about how much laundry Bucky needed to do and it led to Loads of Fun (also linked above). In that one, I mentioned a joke Sam pulled on Bucky and based on a poll I did, people wanted Bucky to get back at him so here we are 💚

This is not the same Y/N from Laundry Day & How Could This Not Fit?!, this is a different one. Apparently a bunch of women in the Tower have the same name as you (haha sorry that's dumb but I wanted them both to be Y/N fics so here we are)

Bucky's arm settles around your waist and he pulls you closer to him on the couch as you shut your laptop. "That's everything," you tell him with a triumphant smile.

"I really appreciate all of your help with this," he tells you and you turn to look at him. "I never would have even thought to do any of this myself."

"I'm happy to help. I hate when people mess with someone I like," you respond.

"Wait, you like me?" he asks jokingly.

You hit him lightly with a pillow, "I think I've made myself awkwardly clear about that."

He laughs and takes the pillow from you easily, "I'm just checking because I like you too." He moves his hand to the back of your neck and kisses you, when he pulls away he smirks and says, "You're an evil genius, you know that right?"

You giggle, "You have no idea."

Day 1

You sit at your desk, watching the clock closely as you wait for Sam's call. Ten minutes after 8, he finally reaches out and you answer professionally, "Stark Industries Technical Support, this is Y/N, how can I help you this morning?"

"Hi Y/N, it's Sam Wilson. There's something wrong with my ID badge I think, or my entry panel maybe. I'm not sure but I can't get into my office," he tells you.

"Oh no, that's not good. I'm going to put you on hold for a few moments while I look into this for you," you tell him and he says okay. After refilling your bottle with water from the kitchen down the hall, you take him off hold. "Hi Sam, sorry that took so long. Computer is a bit slow this morning," you make up an excuse and he asks if you figured out what's wrong with his door. "Yes, looks like we need to run a quick update on your entry panel. Should be about five minutes or so," you lie easily.

"Okay, thanks," he says but you can hear the annoyance in his voice before he hangs up.

You go back to checking your emails and five minutes later, you unlock Sam's office with a smile. Your phone vibrates, alerting you to a new text from Bucky, he has gotten so much better at sending them in the last few days.

<Hi doll, sounds like your plan is going well. I can hear Sam cursing up a storm from my office.>

You laugh at the thought of Sam being that annoyed and send him a quick text back.

<I think it's working so far 😈 He should be calling again any second.>

As if on cue, your office phone rings. "Hi Y/N, it's me again," he says in a defeated tone. "I can't log into my computer."

"Well aren't you having the worst luck this morning," you tell him. You pretend to type loudly so he can hear it, "Looks like your password expired. I'll set you up with a new temporary one and then you should be good to go." He tells you thanks again and you wish him luck before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, your phone rings a third time. "Its Sam again," he says as soon as you answer. "There's something wrong with my computer now. I can't get my email to open and all my programs are freaking out."

"Oh no... I see what the issue is," you say dramatically and he sighs over the phone. "It looks like your computer needs to do a pretty massive update." He asks you how massive and you respond, "About an hour... maybe an hour and a half."

As soon as you and Sam hang up, Pepper calls him and he immediately knows he's in for a long day. "Did you finish the reports for the briefing this afternoon?" she asks.

"Not yet, I've been having a lot of really weird tech issues today," he explains. "IT is on it but it's going to take a while to get me up and running."

"That's unfortunate," she says but there is no sympathy in her voice. "I suggest you work through lunch if needed, those reports were supposed to be on my desk last night."

"I'll get them done," he promises then hangs up. With a loud groan, he drops his head heavily on his desk.

Day 2

Sam complains to Steve and Bucky about all of his computer issues while on their way to his office. He opens the door and Bucky jokes, "Sounds like the tech gods were really pissed off at you, huh?"

"I guess, it really was the weirdest thing," Sam says shaking his head. Bucky and Steve each take a seat and Sam goes to sit behind his desk. As soon as he relaxes into his chair, the seat detaches from the base and he falls to the ground with a loud scream of surprise.

Sam gets up quickly from the floor as his friends come around to the other side of the desk. "Someone is messing with me," he declares over Bucky's laughter.

"Why would anyone do that?" he asks, trying to compose himself. "Not like you've ever pranked anyone around here and would deserve a little revenge."

"Not helpful Buck," Steve rolls his eyes. "Are you okay Sam?"

"Yea," he answers while he examines the chair. "Did you do this?"

"Me?" Bucky asks in response. "I can't even figure out how to use the toaster. How would I have broken into your office?"

Sam is obviously unconvinced and also on the right track. Last night after dinner, you unlocked Sam's office so Bucky could remove almost all of the screws from his chair. That wasn't the only prank you set in motion last night though. As per your plan, Bucky suggests they call maintenance for a new chair and get coffee while they wait.

Tony walks into the kitchen a few moments after the three of them and asks if they like the new coffee maker he just got. Sam pushes the button to make a medium size cup and turns to face him, "First time trying it out."

"Well be nice to it," Tony warns in a joking manner. "I had to lie to Pepper about how much the damn thing cost me but it's worth it for a perfect cup of-"

Tony's words are cut off my Sam swearing as the coffee begins to spill everywhere. The mug overflows and leaks all over the marble counter. Sam tries to press the off button to stop it but it continues to pour out.

"Don't hit it, just press it gently," Tony grumbles as he moves quickly towards his new favorite appliance.

"I am pressing it gently, it's not working," Sam says in a slightly panicked tone as the coffee spills onto the floor.

"How much coffee can that thing make?" Steve asks in shock as he backs up from the growing puddle.

Bucky shakes his head, his hand over his mouth to cover his laughter as he watches the scene unfold. He takes out his phone and sends you a text.

<Check out the security cameras in the kitchen. It worked perfectly>

Tony unplugs the uncooperative machine from the wall and looks angrily at Sam, "Do not touch this again."

"I barely touched it this time!" he counters as he moves away from the massive mess of spilled coffee. "I told them, someone is messing with me."

You reply back after pulling up the live feed.

<🤣🤣 Bonus points for Tony being so annoyed!>

"And how would this mystery person know you were going to use the coffee maker next?" Tony asks with his arms crossed.

"I have no idea," Sam sighs, rubbing his face.

"Just get back to work," he says, "And quit being so damn paranoid."

Day 3

Your head rests against Bucky's chest, his arm holding you comfortably as you watch a movie in his room. Half way through the movie, Bucky's phone begins to vibrate on the coffee table. "Hey Sam, what's-" Bucky answers but you can hear Sam yelling faintly over him.

"Put it on speaker," you whisper and he looks at you confused. You smile and take the phone, showing him how to change the setting and he nods as the background noise becomes louder.

"I can barely hear you," Bucky says and you cover your mouth to keep quiet.

"I said, my apartment is going crazy!" Sam yells over the sound of the TV and other appliances.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks, his voice serious. He keeps his eyes on you and you try not to giggle.

"I don't know! I flipped the switch for the lights and the TV turned on full volume. I tried to turn it off but the remote doesn't work. The volume buttons control the air conditioner, the power button opens and closes my blinds, I even tried going in the menu but it turned on my freaking blender. How does that even happen?" he asks frantically.

"I have no idea what you want me to do," Bucky says and you shrug dramatically as if you don't know what is causing it either. "Sounds like your place is possessed," he adds. You giggle and he holds the phone away from himself to place a quick kiss on your cheek.

"I tried to call tech support but they are closed for the night," he explains. "Did you ever get the number for the woman in IT you know?"

"Who?" Bucky plays dumb.

He groans and you can hear the vacuum turn on, he must have tried another button on the reprogrammed remote. "The one you keep telling us is cute! Y/N, right? I talked to her the other day about my computer stuff," Sam says as the TV volume increases and decreases at random.

He blushes, he had forgotten he told Steve and Sam he wanted to talk to you weeks ago. "No, I chickened out of talking to her," he lies.

"Of course you freaking did!" Sam yells and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, "Screw this I'm gonna sleep in the common room tonight."

Bucky hangs up and tosses his phone back onto the table. You tap his shoulder with a smirk, "So... you think I'm cute, huh?"

He laughs, "Very." He kisses you and you lean into him as his arms wrap around you.

You curl up against him on the couch again then sit up suddenly. "What's wrong?" he asks when you get up.

You open your backpack and look over at him, "I brought my laptop... I can turn off the stuff in his room so if anyone checks, everything will be fine."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he laughs and you kiss him when you sit next to him again.

Day 4

Sam finishes adjusting his suit as he walks into the training room with Clint, Bucky and Scott. Tony checks a few settings on his control panel while Thor and Loki finish up their sparing session.

When the door closes Loki chuckles and turns his attention from his brother to Sam. "I heard you had quite the night," the God of Mischief smirks.

"Seriously, even Loki knows?" Sam throws his hands on the air.

"I think the whole tower knows you think you someone is pulling weird pranks on you," Scott chimes in.

"I'm not paranoid," Sam says. "Someone here is out to get me."

"That sounds like something a paranoid person would say," Loki shrugs and Thor laughs loudly at his comment.

"I don't like agreeing with Reindeer Games but he has a point," Tony jokes, ignoring the side eye from Loki at his least favorite nickname.

"Fine, whatever," Sam gives up. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Yep," Tony agrees and motions for everyone to get back a bit so Sam can spread the wings on his new gear. He puts his goggles on and turns around, checking to see that everything is in place but his focus shifts when everyone beaks out into laughter.

"What now?" Sam asks, turning back to face the group.

"Nothing, I think we all just like the new look," Bucky says with a smile.

"What the hell?" Sam exclaimes when he catches sight of the back of his wings in the windows.

Bucky snaps a picture, thankful you showed him how to do that a few days ago, and sends it to you.

<I had no idea you were going to do this too! This is amazing!>

You open the picture of Sam's wings covered in googly eyes of every size and color, causing you to nearly spit out your water with laughter.

<I didn't do that... but I am a huge fan of whoever did it 🤣🤣🤣>

Sam looks angrily at Loki, "Why are you messing with me?" He pulls down his goggles and walks over to him.

Loki scoffs, unintimidated by the Falcon and says, "If I was 'messing with you' I would have done more then put paint on your eyewear."

He turns back towards the window quickly and sees two thick black rings of paint around his eyes. "Come on! What the hell guys?" he groans.

Bucky, Scott and Clint can barely keep themselves together long enough to deny they had anything to do with this new prank.

Thor almost looks offended and asks, "How come no one assumes it was me?"

Tony pats him on the back and says, "You're not exactly known for being stealthy." He crosses his arms but nods in agreement. "Alright, now that... that whole thing is out of our systems, let's see what the new wings can do," Tony suggests, bringing everyone back to their original reason for being there.

Sam agrees and everyone moves back a bit to watch him take off. Bucky let's a small smile slip when Sam tries to turn left to circle around the room but his suit doesn't respond correctly. He grows increasingly more confused and annoyed as he discovers his controls are reversed.

He lands after only a few minutes and Clint asks, "First time flying? That was rough to watch."

"Shut up," he answers, fiddling with the computer on his wrist as Tony walks over.

"I'll get this thing debugged and we can try again tomorrow, Tony tells him. He nods and leaves with a loud sigh. Bucky and Steve turn to leave as well but Bucky catches Clint and Scott nodding proudly to each other. He chuckles when he spots a googly eye stuck to Scott's shoe.

Day 5

"I am so over this," Sam tells Steve and Bucky as the walk towards the kitchen. "When I find out who is doing all of this they better apologize like hell cause I'm furious," he threatens and Bucky practically bites his tongue to stay quiet.

His phone chimes in his pocket and says, "New text message to Director Nicholas Fury."

"Shut up," he says as he takes his phone out of his pocket.

It chimes again, "Texting, 'shut up'."

"No, no, no! Cancel, cancel," he says, frantically hitting buttons but none of them work to stop it.

"Text message sent," it alerts him with another chime and he rubs his face.

"What the heck was that?" Steve asks.

"I don't know... It's been doing that all day," he says. "I talked to Y/N and she said she is going to have a new phone sent up to me as soon as Stark approves it."

"Y/N, the woman Bucky likes-" Steve starts to ask with a smile but he's interrupted.

"New text message to Tony Stark," his phone says.

"I hate you," he tells the phone as he tries to turn it off.

The phones responds, "Texting, "I hate you'."

He groans and Bucky begins to lose the battle to hold back his laughter. "What is wrong with you?" Sam struggles with the device.

"Texting, 'What is wrong with you?'" it again repeats Sam.

"Stop talking to it," Steve suggests.

"Texting, 'Stop talking'," the phone adds and Steve cringes. "Text message sent."

"I'm gonna get fired," he says and slumps against the wall.

"Finding instructions on how to make fire," it says as if that is helpful.

His phone chimes to alert him to an incoming text message. "Oh good... it's Tony," he says sarcastically.

"Could be worse," Bucky says with a smile and Sam looks up at him skeptically.

His phone chimes again. "It's Fury," he says with a loud sigh.

Bucky laughs, "See, now it's worse." Steve smacks him in the shoulder and shakes his head disapprovingly but Bucky can see the smile on his face.

Later that night, most of the team is relaxing in the common room until Sam walks in angrily. He slams his laundry basket on the coffee table in front of Natasha, Clint and Wanda. Loki looks up from his book in the corner of the room and Bucky follows Steve in from the kitchen.

"Who did it?" Sam asks.

"Oh, what horrible prank where you the victim of this time?" Loki asks with a smirk as he gets up from his seat.

He pulls out his bedsheets which are all different shades of pink, "Which one of you did this? These were new."

Bucky takes out his phone and quickly finds your chat. You text him back, showing the picture of the pink sheets to your friends who joined you for dinner.

<Omg, they did not!? That's amazing 🤣🤣 I can't believe other people joined in like this>

Nat giggles and says, "I don't know but it is a really nice color."

Steve calmly says, "It might not have been on purpose. Someone probably forgot a red shirt or something in the machine."

"No, this is definitely on purpose," he argues with Steve. "I'm going to find out who is doing this."

He grabs the basket and leaves the room angrily. Bucky doesn't watch him leave, he's too focused on Wanda winking at Nat.

Day 6

Sam sits at the far end of the large oval table in the conference room, fuming with his arms crossed.

Loki smiles wide as he takes a seat next to him. He leans close and asks, "What seems to be the trouble today?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Sam responds.

Loki doesn't give up and says, "I think you should share with the team, it might make you feel better. Besides, I'm sure we're all curious as to why you are so annoyed this morning."

Before he can reply, Fury walks into the briefing room. He slams the door shut, which gets everyone's attention at once. He stands in the front of the room, covered in glitter as he glares at Sam. "We need to talk Wilson," he tells him.

"I didn't..." he stands slowly. "You don't think I did that?"

"You left your ID badge on my desk," he holds it up by the lanyard. Sam looks at him in shock then pats his pants and jacket as if it will suddenly appear on his person.

Loki laughs so hard, he slaps the desk and says, "This is the best week I have had in decades. I don't think I've been this entertained since humans celebrated the first April Fools Day."

Sam looks at Loki and then back to Fury, "It has to be him. Do you really think I would be stupid enough to glitter bomb you and leave my ID badge?"

"I have already told you, I have not participated in your torment," Loki says. "I am merely enjoying it."

Thor adds, "Trust me, if it was my brother, he would not deny it."

"Fine, so it's not him but it's one of you," Sam looks around the room at the full table.

Fury stands unconvinced at the front of the room, his arms crossed against his chest. "You have until the end of the day to pick up every single piece of glitter," he tells Sam then he takes a seat at the head of the table to start the meeting.

Loki whispers to Sam, "I must admit, I'm really beginning to like whoever is doing this to you."

Sam rolls his eyes and says, "Oh this person you like? I thought you hated all 'humans'."

Loki corrects him, "I am generally indifferent towards your existence, that's not quite the same as hate."

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or not," Sam says and Loki shrugs in response.

Day 7

Sam wanders into the kitchen in the morning, yawning from lack of sleep. He had stayed up most of the night trying to figure out who was behind all of the pranks. He assumed most of the team could have done the laundry prank or googly eyes but he didn't know anyone with the tech skills to pull off the other ones.

He stops short when he sees you and Bucky together, he stands behind you with his arms around your waist. You look up at him and kiss his cheek before you notice Sam.

Sam is confused and says, "Wait are you guys together? I thought you said you didn't talk to her..."

Bucky smirks and says, "Oh yeah, I guess I lied."

"How long..." you can see him trying to figure out if you had been together long enough to aid in his pranking.

You smile at his confusion and ask, "Wanna see something cool?" He shrugs, still processing your relationship. "Bucky told me the new toaster is voice activated."

"Oh shit," Sam slowly starts to realize what set off this whole chain reaction of pranks. "Bucky, it was just a joke. It's not actually voice activated, you know that right?"

You smile and say, "Oh, then how come this happens?" You push the button on your phone inside your pocket and say, "Toast." A few seconds later, two perfectly toasted pieces of bread pop out.

"What the hell?" Sam asks, you and Bucky laugh in response. He turns and walks back out of the kitchen, nearly walking right into Tony.

"Morning," Tony greets you both as he sets up his now fixed coffee maker. "I gotta say, I'm pretty impressed with you Y/N."

"With what?" you suddenly feel nervous.

He smiles and asks, "Did you really think you could get into all of my systems without me noticing?"

Bucky moves slightly in front of you and says, "Don't fire her, it's my fault. I asked her to help. We just wanted to get back at him a little."

Tony laughs, takes a sip of his coffee and says, "Oh, I'm not mad. I actually am very impressed by how well you got into every part of the towers tech, we should probably talk about a promotion into our security division."

You look at him speechless, you had always wanted to work in that department.

"Also," he adds, "I had that glitter bomb for almost a year and I couldn't figure out how set it off in Fury's office without getting blamed for it so thank you for the distraction."

"Um... you're welcome," you tell him with a laugh.

"Barnes, you're luck she is on your side," he says as he turns to leave. "She's absolutely terrifying."

Bucky pulls you closer, looks at you and says, "I know I'm lucky."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @yeehawbrothers

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

https://www.tumblr.com/wandamaximoffsbadgirl/753134472154791936?source=share

what do you say abouttt caregiver!Wanda comforting little!reader after a nightmare?

The Monster's Gone

Caregiver!Wanda Maximoff x little!gn!reader

Summary: You have a nightmare, but it's okay, Mama is here.

Word Count: 545

Warnings: age regression, mentions of nightmare, a comfort fic

Authors Notes: I've written Mommy Wanda before but not in a situation like this of just caring for her little like this and I enjoyed it

Wanda stirred awake when she heard the muffled whimpers coming from your side of the bed. She immediately knew what had happened. You had another nightmare, and even in your early twenties, these moments still brought out your little side, the part of you that needed comfort and care.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here, Mama’s here." Wanda whispered softly, pulling you close. Her touch was gentle, a comforting presence that began to soothe the lingering fears from your dream.

Tears streamed down your face as you clung to her, your body shaking slightly. "It was so scary, Mama," you managed to say, your voice small and trembling.

"I know, dorogoya," she cooed, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. "But it was just a bad dream. It can't hurt you. Mama’s right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Wanda gently guided you to sit up, reaching for the soft, fleece blanket at the foot of the bed. She wrapped it around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth. "How about we get you some warm milk? Would that help?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern and love.

You nodded, still feeling the residual fear from the nightmare, but knowing that Wanda's presence was already making things better. She picked you up and brought you to the kitchen. Once there she set you down, but kept an arm around you the whole time, her touch a constant reminder that you were safe.

While the milk was warming on the stove, Wanda stood in front of you, holding your face in her hands softly. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently. "Sometimes it helps to get it out."

You shook your head, feeling the tears welling up again. "Just want to be close to you Mama," you whispered.

Wanda smiled softly and stood up to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, little one," she promised.

The warm milk was ready soon, and she poured it into one of your sippy cups, adding a touch of honey just the way you liked it. She handed it to you carefully, and you took a sip, the warmth spreading through your chest and helping to calm your racing heart.

Once you finished, Wanda led you back to the living room, where she had set up a cozy nest of blankets and pillows on the couch. She settled in beside you, pulling you close so you could rest your head on her shoulder. "Let's watch something light and fun," she suggested, grabbing the remote and turning on your favorite animated movie.

As the familiar scenes played out on the screen, Wanda's hand continued to stroke your hair, her presence a constant source of comfort. Gradually, the fear from the nightmare began to fade, replaced by the security and love that Wanda always made sure you felt.

"Feeling better, Lyubov’?" she asked after a while, glancing down at you.

You nodded, snuggling closer to her. "Yeah, much better. Thank you, Mama."

She smiled, kissing the top of your head. "Anything for you, my little one. Now, let's enjoy the movie, okay?"

With Wanda by your side, the rest of the night passed peacefully, the nightmare a distant memory in the face of her unwavering care and love.

[kookygranger]

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

[agent-cupcake]

Flashbang

Chapter 1 - Puppet Loosely Strung

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: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: Running away to join the circus doesn’t go exactly as you hoped it would.

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, murder, generally dark content

Word Count: 13.9k

Disclaimer: I don’t read the manga or watch the anime. This is based solely on OPLA Buggy because Jeff Ward.

Some quick notes before we start: This is what I've been working on this since October. Originally it was going to be one really big one-shot posted at the same time, but it's big enough that I can justify posting it as a series. I'll add warnings as I go, but this is not a happy story and there will be explicit content later on. The reader character might not be somebody you see yourself in, I had a very specific image of what character I had in mind while writing. To me, reader fic is more of a sort of play acting rather than "oh that's literally me" but I know that's not everybody's cup of tea. A lot of this is cope fic and it shows. When times get rough the porn gets rougher, right?

I had help writing this from an individual who is very dear to me. Flashbang wouldn't exist without her, especially since she was the one who gave me the clown brain rot. And then there has been the hours of brainstorming and spitballing and watching Jeff Ward shows/movies as she continued to feed my addiction. Thank you, my love, and also damn you because this wasn't what I needed.

New chapter every Sunday. Enjoy~

.

“Let me put myself in your shoes

As a puppet loosely strung

Around you, they were so confused

That a faulty man could have so much fun”

.

All it took was a little doubt. Through logic or confusion or wishful thinking, you could be convinced that the insignificant person who had parasitically driven you around for the past however many years was a stranger, and now they were gone. Everything that had ever happened fell into incomprehensible dust, and every thought you ever had belonged to somebody else. A cycle of a million memories you didn’t recognize spun through this foggy place, none of them real, none of them familiar. 

Logic, confusion, wishful thinking, or unconsciousness. An endless dream of nothing at all. But as soon as you became aware, it was awareness that those thoughts happened in the past tense, crushed inward by the unrelenting force of existence, and you were shoved back into a body. You—not the real you, the stranger you, the one made of heat and fury and pain, the one you couldn’t recognize—were gasping and thrashing in ignorant confusion, coughing out the sickening taste of blood in your throat. 

Everything, all of it, hurt. And that was all that existed. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Your panicked thrashing made you realize that you were upright, your body straining painfully against the various chains keeping you pinned against the wall in an X. The position put nearly all of your weight on your shoulders and left your head to sag heavily to the side, making the terrible, dizzying headache that much worse. Having suffered more than your fair share of them, you knew that this headache was from more than an uncomfortable position or your old injury. A hot throbbing pain radiated out from the back of your head, shooting little sparks down your spine. It hurt bad enough that nausea formed a tight, heavy ball in your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you forced your eye open, fighting the urge to cringe away from the light as it rolled this way and that. Colors and lights were nothing more than a nauseating smear, but at least you could see. 

Little by little, you became aware of yourself. From far away, you had a vague recollection of leaving, of nerves, excitement, and then of danger. But… no, why weren’t you at home? Doom settled in its rightful place as you realized exactly how little you remembered or knew, slotting into the spot of coherence and reason. Despite the pain, you fought against the shackles holding you in the uncomfortable position, irrationally desperate to be free of them. 

“There she is! Finally,” somebody said from your left. His voice hit like a hammer to the back of your aching head. You strained to look at the speaker, he sounded close, but you couldn’t turn your head far enough to make up for your limited vision. 

Luckily, he didn’t stay out of sight for long. The man’s boots were loud and deliberate as he slowly moved out of your literal blind spot. To your ill-adjusting eye, he was not much more than a blur of white and red and blue, his big smile smudged as you rapidly blinked to focus. A little shock of meaningless recognition in your brain saw the makeup and red nose and said ‘clown’, but the sheer ridiculousness of that made you even more sure that this wasn’t real. 

“Not a fun way to wake up, is it?” he asked. “Keep breathing, let it drain back and cough it out. Trust me, it’s over quicker that way.”

The question you tried to form was, “Who are you?” but all you could manage was a heavy groan followed by a fit of painful coughs, wheezing raggedly in between. Each desperate convulsion rattled the chains and caused the wood to creak, but did nothing to free your bound limbs. The man seemed bored by it, annoyed he had to wait for you to get ahold of yourself. 

Since he hadn’t immediately helped you down, you could only assume that he was the one who shackled you in the first place. Strung you up against a wooden board of some kind in a room you didn’t know. Cramped and windowless, it reeked of paint and sweat and sawdust and sweet salty rot—a unique smell that didn’t help your nausea. Clutter stacked up against the walls. Dense, humid air pressed against you like a heavy coat, paradoxically chilling. Probably because of the fever burning beneath your skin, slicking you up with sweat, soaking into your clothes and the bandana you kept wrapped around your head over the left eye.

Breathe. You focused on your breathing. Panic wouldn’t help you. 

“You done?” he asked. Without any other choices, you turned your head to shamefully wipe your face off on your sleeve before nodding. “Great. Well, now that you’re awake… Welcome!” He threw out his arms with the flamboyant manner of a showman with the greeting, but they wilted right after, his big smile dropping a bit. “Or, at least, that’s what I would say if you hadn’t let yourself in and stolen the opportunity from me.” 

That was bad. Very, very bad. You jerked in an awkward, uncoordinated burst, physically reacting to the danger he presented. 

“No, no, don’t leave on my account,” he said, waving his hands and getting closer as if to stop you. “Oh wait, you can’t! Hah! Yeah, ‘cause of the chains.” He smiled affably, like it was a harmless joke, standing close enough for his gloved fingers to skim along the chain wrapped around your neck. “I guess you’re not going anywhere, huh?” 

You didn’t respond, barely daring to breathe when he was so close. Smiles and melodrama aside, his blue eyes were oddly dead, fixed on you without the slightest bit of humor. And then it finally came back to you, the vital thing that you should have known, that you would have known if you weren’t strung up and suffering such a crippling headache. The makeup, the nose, the hat—

“You’re,” you began to say, but your voice was hoarse and weak, you could barely get it out when he was looking at you so closely, so intently. You cleared your throat, wincing at the metallic taste. “You’re the-that pirate captain Buggy, like on the-the poster?” Right! The clown guy, the red-nosed pirate. You were looking for him. So this was… good, wasn’t it? 

He gave you a flat look, clearly not sharing your weak enthusiasm. “Yes. I am that pirate captain. Buggy, the Genius Jester? The most feared pirate captain in all the East Blue?” He turned with a dramatic flick of his coat, messing with something that had to flash silver before you realized it was a knife. “The man destined to find the One Piece and become King of the Pirates. Yes. I am that pirate captain. And,” he paused, checking to make sure you were paying attention, “a very busy, very important man. I’ve got, oh, ten minutes or so for you to decide how this is gonna go. So let’s get straight to it.” He turned back, pointing the knife at you. “Who are you, and what are you after?”

The accusatory tone of his voice took you aback. “Nothing… I’m not anybody,” you stammered out. “And this… this isn’t what it looks like, I swear.”

Buggy, to your surprise, relented after a second of considering your appeal, nodding understandingly. 

There was no transition from his look of sympathy to raising the knife and aiming it at you. By the time you realized he meant to throw it, you barely had a chance to yelp. The blade took a loud, thumping bite into the wood beside you. On your left side, of course. Where you couldn’t see it. You could feel it, though. The air displacement ruffled the fine hairs around your ear. If you had flinched in that direction, it probably would be in your skull. With your dizzy head aching and confused, you had no regulation to your fear or discomfort, your breathing dangerously unsteady and tears pricking the corner of your eyes. 

“Let me try a different question,” Buggy said before you could collect yourself, pulling out another knife. “Who else knows about this place?”  

“Nobody! I swear, nobody else. I was just…” You didn’t know what to say. It was all you could do to breathe the thick, heavy air and fight down the tide of nausea.  

“Just what?” Buggy asked, leaning in with raised eyebrows to show that he was listening intently. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to come up with the right words. Thoughts churned through the thick sludge in your head, getting stuck or lost or confused. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, the stumbling apology coming out more naturally than anything else, an attempt to buy time while you organized your thoughts. “Please doh-don’t…. I’m so ss-sorry.” 

Buggy sighed, standing up straight and raising his hand to aim. 

“Nonono, please d-” You yelped louder this time, flinching away as the knife streaked through the air and stuck not even an inch away from your right cheek. You exhaled a pathetic little sob, whatever you were bound to shaking with your body. 

“Listen, honey buns,” Buggy said. “Drop the act. Stop the whining. I caught you, red handed, sneaking into my lair.” He pulled something out of his pocket. Not another knife, but a piece of paper which he unfolded, holding it up for you to see. His wanted poster, creased into sixths from the way you folded it to keep it close, to keep it hidden. “I found this in your bag. You know who I am, and you know where you are. You have to, so let’s do away with all the theatrics, okay?” 

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly in the hope that it would appease him. 

“Right now, this is a conversation,” Buggy said, gesturing between the two of you. “A light interrogation, really. But if you keep being uncooperative and wasting my time, it’s gonna go from being interrogate-y to being torture-y real quick. You don’t want that, right?” Although he was unmistakably threatening you, Buggy’s tone was more natural than before. There was a bluntness to it, an honesty. Men like him didn’t idly use words like torture. 

You sniffed, trying very hard to calm yourself down. This was a misunderstanding, so you just had to convince him. Simple as that. He would understand. You would make him understand.

“Right,” you agreed. 

“Fantastic. So,” he loudly clapped his hands together, “who else knows about this place?”

“Nobody, I promise… I’m really sorry I broke in,” you told him, speaking slowly so your words didn’t catch. “I just wanted to meet with you.” 

Buggy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, the hair hanging out from the sides of his hat swaying as his head tilted curiously. “You’re a fan?” he clarified. “That explains why you’re so pathetic. Well I hate to break it to you, but there’s a reason I only hold meet and greets after shows.” 

“No, that’s not why! I-I want to join your crew,” you said. “I came to ask you to let me join your crew.” 

He blinked twice, staring at you with obvious disbelief. “Excuse me, what?” 

“I want to be a pirate,” you told him, louder. “Please. Please let me join your crew.”

Buggy’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the rippling shift of incredulity, befuddlement, skepticism, and then amusement in his eyes. That emotion burst outward into a loud laugh, making you flinch. “That’s the best you can do?” he asked. “Ask to join my crew?” He looked at you again, laughing even harder. “I don’t know what’s funnier—that anybody would send you to spy on me, or that you’d think I would consider hiring you.” 

“I mean it!” you argued, humiliation and desperation seeping into the thousand other discomforts of your position. This wasn’t at all how you wanted this to go.

“Sweetheart,” Buggy said condescendingly, “even assuming I believe you, this is a pirate crew, not an afterschool club.”

“I know. I know what pirates do, I know what you do,” you told him. “I’ll do anything, whatever you want. Please, please, just give me a chance.”

He nodded, turning to pace as he thought about it. 

“Okay, let’s say that I buy this… this act of yours,” Buggy said. “Do you have any experience? Maintaining ships, reading maps, loading cannons. You know, basic stuff.”

There was a line you had prepared to answer this question, one that would paint you in the most charitable light. You remembered that, but you couldn’t remember the line. All you could give was the truth. “A little.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Thought so. What about specialties? Unique skills? Any sort of talent that I can use in my show—anything at all. I mean other than,” he gestured vaguely in your direction, “that. We don’t need another one eyed midget. They’re surprisingly common.” 

“I’m not a midget,” you told him, nerves fading to incredulity. 

Buggy stepped back to size you up before seemingly conceding the point with a shrug. “And the eye?” He covered his left eye to illustrate. “Is that for a bit or something?” 

Your stomach twisted with a familiar lurch. Disgust. Shame. Phantom light in the dark. “It’s not.” 

“How’d you lose it?” 

“I didn’t… lose it.” 

“It’s still in there?” he asked excitedly, stepping forward and reaching to remove the bandana. “I have got to see this.” 

“No, please—please don’t,” you begged, trying to wriggle away from his hand. Pinned to the board with your hands bound above your head, there was nowhere to go. “Please don’t, please-” 

“Come on,” Buggy said, indifferent to your pleas as he pulled the sweat soaked fabric off of your left eye. “How bad could it be—AH!” He yelled in horror, jumping away as if you’d bitten him. 

The bandana hit the floor, leaving your ruined eye and its jagged scar exposed. You couldn’t hide. All you could do was flinch back, turning your head away. “I’m sorry,” you said, ready to continue apologizing before you realized that his shock had immediately dissolved into raucous laughter. “Why are you… why are you laughing?” you asked, pulling desperately against the chains. 

“I got you good,” Buggy said, his laughter subsiding. “The way you reacted, I thought that you’d be completely deformed. A real sideshow. But this…” He grabbed your chin, forcing it to the side so he could get a better look. “I couldn’t charge for this.”

“Please stop,” you begged, shaking off his grip and staring hard at his shoulder. 

“Ohhh. You’re really embarrassed about it.”

You didn’t say anything, focusing mostly on fighting the tears. 

“Okay, alright, yeah,” Buggy said, stepping back. “I think I’m starting to get why you would risk life and limb to beg me for a job. You grew up as a cute girl in a shithole town like this. A big fish in a little pond, as they say. Then, suddenly, BAM, you’re deformed, and, sure, they all say that it was tragic, but the truth is that they can’t stand to look at you. Even the people who loved you, the people you trusted, think you’re a freak. They abandoned you. So, without any other options, you come to me, pleading for me to give you a place amidst your fellow freaks. That about it?”

You didn’t say anything—what could you say to that?— which Buggy seemed to take as confirmation, nodding thoughtfully. 

“Well, go big or go home, right? As far as a starlet’s breakout role, you couldn’t go any bigger. Thing is, I’m not really looking for new acts. Not to mention your abysmal audition.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth, looking you up and down again. 

You could feel your chance slipping away. Just like that. Go big or go home, that’s what he said. 

“Please, Captain Buggy,” you begged, staring him in the eye despite how disquieting it was, despite how your skin crawled from exposing your left eye to somebody. Addressing him properly, at the very least, got his attention. “I promise that you won’t regret it. I’ll learn, I want to learn how to be a pirate, how to perform, all of it, everything. And if I can’t, I’ll do laundry and clean and cook, I have lots of experience with that. I don’t care what you ask me to do, if you let me join your crew, I’ll happily serve you for the rest of my life.”

Buggy didn’t respond right away. You thought—hoped—that it meant he understood how serious you were, but his expression gave you nothing. There wasn’t much light in the room in the first place, but somehow he found enough to shine unnervingly in his pale blue eyes. Somebody with a bright red clown nose shouldn’t have been able to look so intimidating, but the way he studied you burned with an uncomfortable intensity. It had been a while since anybody looked at you so frankly, so openly, without disgust or pity. 

“Why?” he finally asked. 

“Why…?” you repeated, confused.

“I get that you want to leave this place, and I even buy into your whole wanting to be a pirate thing, but, you know, aside from the obvious,” he gestured to himself, “why should I believe that you really want to serve me? You’re young and cute…ish, don’t you want freedom and empowerment and all those other things girls go on and on about?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I?” 

A moment of quiet that wasn’t quite silence but twice as heavy passed before a slow smile began to spread over Buggy’s face, and then—of all the bizarre, uncomfortable responses he could have—he laughed. “Oh, you’re broken, aren’t you?” he asked, clearly overjoyed by the revelation. “Well, I’m sold. I’ll have to start you on probation just in case you’re secretly up to no good. But, after that, you can audition for real. I’m sure I can find something you’ll be useful for.” 

His reaction gave you whiplash. The word ‘broken’ was obviously bad, but everything else was good. You had succeeded. Only, you didn’t know why. You were still trying to decide if being called cute-ish was a compliment or not. 

“Hey, just one more thing, okay?” Buggy asked, tapping your cheek. Standing mere inches away, he smiled a rictus grin. It wrinkled his eyes, but they were without life or pity or mercy. “If you’re lying to me about anything, I’ll carve some symmetry into your cute little face. You’ll thank me for it too. You won’t want to see what the guys will do to you after I toss you out there.”

“I’m not lying,” you said softly, shrinking back. “I promise.” 

“Great!” Buggy said, his demeanor immediately cheering up. “Let’s get you down.” He walked behind the board you were strung up on, and you let out a shaky exhale. “Brace yourself,” he called. You had no idea what that meant, or how you were supposed to brace yourself when there was nothing for you to brace yourself on. “Three… two…” 

He undid the lock, and the chains keeping you bound to the board went slack. You dropped hard, your limbs as heavy as lead. Luckily, your head was too light to feel anything when you hit the ground with a dull thump and the loud cacophony of rattling chains, spinning and blank and utterly empty. There was a suspended moment of floating, lighter than air itself. And then you were blinking rapidly and nauseous, pain shooting up your arms and knees. 

Buggy dropped a key in front of you, metal bouncing on the old concrete. 

“Unfortunately we didn’t bring any real props with us, so I had to improvise,” he said. With numb fingers, you grabbed the key and worked it into the locked cuff around your wrist. “You lucked out, if this were the real Wheel of Death, you’d be blowing chunks!” He paused, looking down at you. “Can you hurry this up?”

“Sorry,” you said. Your shaking hands kept missing the keyholes, but you finally got the last lock on your ankle open. The cuffs hadn’t broken skin, but your wrists and ankles were rubbed raw, ugly bruises already developing. You’d had worse.

“Alright, upsy daisy,” Buggy said, crouching down to take the key away and grab the only chain you hadn’t gotten out of—the one around your neck. 

It acted as a noose, giving you no other choice but to lurch upward with an unappealing choking sound, your head spinning all over again, the weightless itch tingling all the way down to the base of your spine. You stumbled forward, unintentionally falling against him. 

“Holy shit,” Buggy exclaimed, helping you stand up straight with a hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t know girls came in fun size. Legally, at least. Are you sure you’re not just like… the maxiest midget?” 

“‘m dizzy,” you muttered, swaying despite his support. 

“That’s not really… Ah, whatever. Hey, at least if you fall, you don’t have that far to go.”

“I’m… I’m okay,” you finally said, which was mostly true. Breathing slow, steady breaths helped, and then you shook your head a little. The bump on the back of it throbbed painfully, and you’d have bruises on your knees the size of apples, but you would survive. You were still trying to get control over your body. It was heavy and unwieldy, although part of that must have been the exhaustion. 

“If you need to vomit, make sure to aim away from me,” he said. That was about all the warning you got before he decided it was time to go, dragging you along behind him like a dog on a leash. 

You realized you were leaving your bandana behind, your left eye uncovered, and reared back, trying to stop him. “Wait, I have to grab my-” 

“No time,” he said, talking over you and tugging again at the chain. 

There was nothing you could do but stumble over your own feet to keep up with him as he led you through the cluttered and dark storage area. You felt a tiny bit of relief that you were still in the familiar decaying buildings northside. The old warehouses were dark, dank, and dingy. Easily defended and difficult to navigate, perfect for criminals to hide out in. You knew them very well, and that helped orient you.  

"As I’m sure you noticed, I’m running a bit of a skeleton crew here. The rest aren’t coming ‘til the grand finale,” Buggy said, leading you into the main warehouse space by the chain around your neck like it was completely normal. The awful smell of rot and decay was only compounded by a sickly sweet, chalky scent you didn’t recognize. Gray sunshine flooded in through the broken windows around the high ceilings, piercingly bright. “And after that, we’re gonna blow this town.”

You didn’t respond, growing even more skittish. The two of you drew the attention of the people scattered around. Some were lounging, others were training. All of them turned to look at you, watching with the dark, focused stare of hungry dogs. Colorfully dressed, very dangerous dogs. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an introduction to make!” Buggy called in a loud enough voice to fill the large space. “Crew, new girl. New girl, crew. Make sure to give her a nice, warm welcome." None of them spoke or reacted, watching you with varying degrees of hostility. Buggy pulled you forward a few steps so he could whisper to you. “See that guy?” he asked, pointing to a bald man with square features and an especially dark glare. “That’s Ivo. He was the one who caught you. To be completely honest, I think he’s still a little angry that he didn't get to keep you. If I were you, I’d try to stay on his good side.”

“How?” you asked, your uneasy stomach sinking further, but Buggy was already preoccupied with something else. 

“Oh, hey-” he called, flagging down a woman who was leaning against one of the steel supports. You stumbled behind him, holding the chain around your neck to ease the pressure. “Crina, I have got a very important job for you.” 

The woman slowly looked from Buggy to you, giving you a weighty once-over with dark, kohl-lined eyes. Her clothes were different from the rest, draped with beads and loose and layered in shades of purple. Beneath the mystique, however, you felt the same hardness you recognized in all the pirate’s faces. “You want me to look after the little rat,” she said with an accent you didn’t recognize.

"God, it’s like you can read minds or something,” Buggy said, laughing. “Anyway, yes. Make sure she doesn’t get up to anything naughty while I’m gone. In fact, don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“With all due respect,” Crina said, “why not just kill her?” 

“Because I don’t want her dead,” Buggy snapped, suddenly irritated. If Crina was surprised or off put by the abrupt change of his mood, she didn’t show it. 

“Of course, captain.”  

“I thought I saw some cages over there,” Buggy said, gesturing vaguely and forcing the chain into Crina’s hand. “Stick her in one of those. In the back, away from any prying eyes.”  

“A cage?” you asked.

“As fun as it is to see you all chained up,” Buggy said. “I worry that it might send the wrong message. Out of sight, out of mind—I don’t need you distracting my crew. They’re planning a very big surprise party. If you behave, I might be able to find some time for you later. Sound good?” 

You nodded, almost surprised by how good that sounded. He ruffled your hair before turning away, barking orders to some of the men. 

“Let’s go,” Crina said, pulling your attention back to her. “We have our orders.”

The cage Crina put you in, one out of several bolted to the floor in the corner out of the way from the main space, had just enough room for you to sit slouched, or lay curled on your side, meant for big dogs or small humans. There was a market for both, and you knew that this warehouse had likely housed both. 

The old, dilapidated buildings had been out of use for a long time, as long as you could remember. Barley Village had been originally built to be close to the mineral deposits, but as those dried up and industry trended towards the water, southward expansion left all of the old buildings empty and rotting. There was always talk about tearing them down, but it was only ever talk. One time you were told that some people wanted to keep the buildings available to people who wished for some privacy. But when you asked your dad if that was true, he got angry, telling you that was a lie, that he would never let that happen. He said it would just be too expensive to take them down, and that there was really no point in it.

But he also told you to never, ever spend time northside. Of all of the rules he gave you, that was the only one you ever truly disobeyed. You had no idea how many times you had gotten in trouble for playing here, climbing up rusted stairs and crossing the support beams up by the ceiling, using rocks to knock out the jagged edges of broken glass from the windows so you could go onto the rooftops. Your health problems made it difficult, and sometimes impossible, but you were patient. Plus, that had been before the accident, when your coordination was still good.

Back then, you didn’t worry about the many dangers that lurked here, and you certainly didn’t believe you could be hurt. You were too entranced by the world you created for yourself. The only thing you worried about was the beatings you earned when you got caught. Dad used to tell you that if you kept disobeying him by going northside, you’d wind up locked in one of these cages—or worse. It took you a while to think of the word, because it wasn’t funny, but it also was. Ironic. It was ironic.

You couldn’t even imagine what kind of reaction he would have to what you had done now, what punishment you would earn. It would be bad. You knew it would be very bad. 

Better not to think about it. Falling unconscious after being hit on the head was the most you had slept for the previous two days. It was the level of exhaustion that you could be staring down the business end of a sword with indifferent, sleepy eyes. Being locked up was bad, very bad, but you were content to lay listlessly on your side.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep because you weren’t entirely conscious when somebody kicked the front of your cage. “Hey, wake up.” Your physical response was to startle, jolting you awake enough to flinch away from the violence. But it was only Crina who crouched in front of the cage. “I have food for you. And medicine for the headache. I’m going let you out, and I suggest you don’t try to run. If the guys get a hold of you, I won’t stop them.”

“I won’t run,” you told her, your voice hoarse, your eyes fixed on what she had brought. A bowl of something that looked like stew and a bottle. More than food, you wanted water. Crina undid the lock and you shuffled out of the cage. Your head spun just as badly as it had when you dropped onto the floor earlier, your vision crawling with darkness and stomach heaving unhappily. She was right about the headache. It wasn’t a pain you ever got used to, no matter how many days you spent laid out from one. After an uneasy moment, you sat on the floor, grabbing the water and eagerly uncapping it. 

“Hand,” Crina said, holding out a glass bottle. You allowed her to shake two capsules into your palm, tossing them into your mouth before taking in a blessedly wet mouthful of water. It soothed your tongue and throat like a salve, although you knew your stomach wouldn’t be quite so happy to receive anything. The stew’s scent alone made your stomach clench and churn with equal parts hunger and nausea. Slow. You had to take it slow. 

“Thank you,” you told her, picking up the bowl. She’d brought a wrapped sailor’s biscuit to eat it with. Not very appetizing, but you hadn’t eaten much more than you slept. It could have been saw dust and you would have been grateful. 

“I have your bag,” she said to fill the silence as you ate, pushing the limp canvas towards you. “They took anything that looked valuable, but your clothes are all there. They need to be washed. I’ll lend you something to wear in the meantime.”

Since your mouth was full, you nodded your thanks.

“While you eat, I’m going to talk. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Crina said. “You don’t strike me as the talkative type.”

She didn’t say that in an accusatory tone, but it still caused your heart to skip with anxiety. The fear had to be irrational, it wasn’t as if you had lied to Captain Buggy, so what did you have to worry about? Besides, only the guilty feared scrutiny, that was a favored line of your dad’s. 

“There’s a man in town asking if anyone has seen a girl. Petite. Missing an eye. Mentally unwell. He’s concerned that she might have gotten lost somewhere,” Crina told you. “From what I gather, her father is a pillar of the community. They’re all very worried.” 

You averted your gaze, anxiously pulling your hair to cover your left eye. Of course Randall would be looking for you, although you had hoped you would have more time before he noticed your absence. It didn’t matter that you left in such a way to raise as little suspicion as possible, or that you were an adult, or that you didn’t want to be found. Your dad asked him to be your keeper while he was gone, and Randall did as your father said. Everybody did. 

“Finish your food,” Crina prompted. “It’s worse when it’s cold.” 

Right. You started eating again, your movements mechanical. She said nothing, and you had nothing to say. 

“Everybody has their reasons for turning to piracy, and they’re not always pleasant,” Crina suddenly said. “Unless it interferes with my own business, I don’t care about who you were and why you ran away. It was a stupid choice, I think you know that. I won’t try and convince you to leave. Buggy seems to like you, so you wouldn’t be able to go anyway. But you need to understand that there will be consequences. The life you had before, no matter how terrible, did not prepare you for the life you’ve thrown yourself into.”

You stared hard at the bowl, thinking about that. It was true, you had to accept that you had blindly stumbled into a world you knew nothing about. But what choice did you have? The things that led you to this point were arranged like the rusty, creaky rungs of a ladder scaling the side of a building. Climbing up had always been the easy part, it was the inevitable descent that gave you trouble. You had to go slow, one rung at a time, blindly feeling with your toes, holding on with sweaty fingers, not looking up and not looking down because once you were on the ladder, you could only keep going. The first rung was spotting the Buggy Pirates, which you only did because you were sulking around the docks after seeing your father off on his trip. You only recognized the crew because your dad kept track of pirate captains with significant bounties. You only had the courage to sneak away from your house because dad was too far away to stop you. You only had the ability to scope out Buggy’s temporary hideout because of how much time you spent northside when you were younger. Those things all connected and followed so naturally and you didn’t know if fate existed, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t have wound up here on your own volition. It wasn’t a choice you made, it was the only way to get down from the roof that you had been stranded on for so long.

“I’ll give you some advice,” Crina continued, her tone lighter, “and I suggest you listen. You’re young and pretty, and you wouldn’t be the first to try and use that to get an advantage. It might work for a while, but men will get bored and your looks will fade. Before long you’ll be spat out into a cheap whorehouse with a couple of children you can’t afford and a hell of a rash.” 

The whiplash from your thoughts to the conclusion she had drawn made your stomach twist with disgust. “No,” you said. Was that what she thought of you? Even if the idea was utterly ridiculous, shame rolled uncomfortable through you. “I would never—I could never ever do that.” 

“Don’t be naive,” Crina said, rolling her eyes. “The boys you’re used to are disgusted by that scar, but the kind of men you’ll meet from now on won’t be. If your low self-esteem dictates who you let between your legs, you’ll find yourself in the gutter. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t sleep with men to get an advantage if that’s an option, only that you must be smart about it.” 

You pulled your hair forward again, shaking your head clear of what she was saying. She didn’t understand. It wasn’t the assumption that men would be repulsed by your scar—which they would be, you knew that—but that you didn’t have it in you to invite or manipulate male attention. In so many ways you were already ruined, but to stoop down to letting other men touch you would be too far, it would destroy you.

“Assuming you live past tomorrow night,” Crina continued, “get a knife and figure out how to use it. The men aren’t going to accept you as a member of the crew until you prove yourself. So if anybody gets too close, you prove yourself with blood.” 

“Do you think they’ll try to hurt me?” 

“I think you look like an easy target,” she said. “And I know you have no concept of self preservation or defense.”

“Yes, I do,” you said, frowning. You had made it this far, after all. That was more than anybody would have thought of you. 

“You don’t,” she said plainly. “The tablets I gave you are for treating pain, but imagine if they weren’t. You didn’t so much as ask me to clarify what they were.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, and closed it, shame squeezing your throat. You hadn’t even thought about that.

“It might not matter anyway,” she said, “depending on Buggy’s reasons for keeping you.”

“What do you mean?” 

Crina gave you a long, pitying look and you could tell there was something she wanted to say, something she was holding back. Eventually she shrugged. “That is between the two of you.”

You wanted to push for more, confused by the cryptic answer, but you didn’t. You could tell by the hard look on her face that she wouldn’t tell you anyway. 

“One more thing. The most important thing,” Crina told you, leaning close so she could whisper. “Never, ever mention the captain’s nose. In fact, never mention noses at all.” 

“His nose?” you repeated softly. “Is it… is it real?” 

“What did I just say?” she asked sharply. “He killed a few of the last new recruits for saying something that sounded like nose while he was in a bad mood.”

“He… killed them?” you asked. 

“Buggy is a very temperamental man,” she said, leaning back. “Try not to get on his bad side.”

“It sounds like you don’t like him.” 

“I do, actually. God knows why. Are you finished?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Come on then,” Crina told you, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. “There’s running water on the other side. I’ll keep watch so you can clean up.”   

Although birds called and the breeze carried all sorts of noises from Barley Village, none of it really reached the northside. A solemn graveyard hush settled heavy between the wreckage of ruined buildings, drafty even in broad daylight. No ghosts hid in the shadows, no historical tragedy marred its name, but there remained the haunted imprint of people who were no longer around. 

Before setting you on your task of the day, Crina had given you a dress of hers to wear while your own clothes dried in the sun. You swam in it, but a sash at the waist made the fit look somewhat intentional and the long sleeves hid the ugly bruises cuffing your wrists. That, combined with having slept the previous night and most of the day, left you feeling oddly refreshed. Sure, all of the sleep had been in a cage and the only ‘bath’ you had was a couple of minutes alone with a spout that spat freezing water and a washcloth, but it was better than yesterday. Better than the day before that too, save for the bruises and big goose egg bump on the back of your head.  

Despite the headache, you were glad to be given something to do. The task wasn’t difficult. Busywork that kept you out of the way. Checking to ensure that everything which would be loaded on the ship was documented, organized, and ready for transport. It wasn’t entirely unlike what you had done in the past and, you imagined, would be doing in the future. It was, however, the opposite way around. The goods were obviously looted, you were creating a list to know exactly what and how much of it had been stolen. 

Vinegar, oil, wax.

You used the end of the pen to scratch beneath your bandana, which Crina had kindly retrieved for you. Sometimes the scar got itchy, like it had when it was healing. 

Twine, needles, thread. 

There was a particular smell to supply crates like these. Something to do with the place they were stored, or where they were made. Even now, years since you had been on a ship, it was overwhelmingly familiar. It made your stomach ache and chest clench, although you weren’t sure which quality of the scent was so unsettling. 

You scratched the scar again.

Vinegar, oil- 

Wait, you had already done that. Annoyed, you crossed out those words and crouched down to get into the next crate. Rope. It was coiled in tight loops like a huge snake, coarse beneath your fingers. Anything that was strong enough to endure the fury of the sea had to be coarse. Good rope was vital on a ship, you knew that even with your limited experience. Touching it reminded you of the time your dad tried to show you how to tie knots, and then subsequently had to treat your rope burn.

What would he think when he returned? Retired Marine or not, he was deeply involved with northside business and law. Missing supplies, missing daughter. Sometimes you felt an acidic sort of pleasure when imagining his reaction to your absence, but usually it was just dread.

Or worse. Prickling paranoia. You could run, for a time. But that was all it was. Running. He used to be a Marine, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find you. When you were younger, the thought gave you comfort. 

But you didn’t want to think about that. Not at all. Not ever again. You stared very hard at the rope, desperate to put those thoughts out of your mind. 

You stared and stared and stared and-

Somebody grabbed you around the bicep, dragging you to your feet and forcing you back to reality. Yelping in fear, you were nearly knocked back down from the bloodrush dizziness of standing up too fast, saved only by the crates. 

“Good god, girl,” the unfamiliar man said, taking a step back, clearly put off by your reaction. “Are you deaf or something? I hollered at you three or four times. Were you sleeping?” 

Putting a hand to your racing heart, you looked from him to the still open crate and the notepad you had abandoned mid-task. You had no idea how long you had been sitting there. Long enough for your foot to go numb, prickling with pins and needles now that you were standing up. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

“The captain wants to see you. It’s urgent,” he said. When you didn’t immediately respond, still orienting yourself, he sighed impatiently and grabbed your elbow, physically dragging you away. You stumbled to keep up, trying very hard to avoid falling. “If Buggy asks why you took so long, you better tell him it was your fault.”

“I will,” you said to appease him, attempting to shake off his hand before realizing that it was pointless. “Please slow down.” 

“Not my fault you’ve got stumpy legs,” he said. “Keep up.” 

The unfairness of that stung, but you didn’t have much choice. You had a feeling that he’d keep on pulling you along even if it meant dragging you across the ground. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, embarrassingly out of breath. 

“There,” he said, nodding to one of the waterfront buildings. At least it was close. You never strayed so close to the water, the buildings were too squat to make for fun exploration and too exposed to give cover. 

The pirate released you when you got to the door, leaving you winded and scared. You adjusted your bandana and tried to catch your breath. “Don’t forget to tell him it was your fault it took so long, not mine,” he said, opening the door.

“I won’t,” you promised, the words papery thin on your dry tongue.  

You were in trouble. You had no idea what you might have done, but there had to be something. Why would you be summoned like this otherwise? A very bad feeling pressed against your sternum, but you forced yourself to walk forward. The door shut behind you. Inside, the air was dark and cool and wet, sending a little shiver down your spine. 

Buggy stood in the middle of the room, the only place where the sun found its way between the mangled teeth of glass and steel that used to be windows, his own little spotlight amidst the ruins. There were three other men on the edges of the light, their backs to you. One of them was bound. You did not like this. 

“There she is!” Buggy exclaimed, inviting you forward with his arms spread wide. “Come on, don’t be shy. Especially not after keeping us waiting so long. Your friend over here could hardly handle the suspense. 

Rocks and broken glass crunched beneath your feet as you approached them. Once you got close enough, finally, you could see the faces of the other men. One was the square-featured, angry man Buggy called Ivo. Another, a man you didn’t know. And the third, the one bound with a busted lip and developing black eye—

Randall called your name, trying to escape and rush to your side. Ivo grabbed him, pressing the blade of his knife against his throat.

“See, I told you, they’re working together,” Ivo said, glaring at you. “She tipped him off. No doubt this place will be swarming with the law before long.”

You stood completely still, staring at Randall with the steadily rising tide of panic sloshing in your stomach. After everything you had done to misdirect him, the note you left to beg he didn’t follow, the trouble you had put yourself through to keep from being seen, he was still here. 

“Are you okay?” Randall asked, looking you up and down frantically, concerned in a way he never had looked before. “Did they hurt you?” 

“I told you, she’s fine,” Buggy said with a grin. “I mean, yeah, Ivo over there did give her a little knock on the ole noggin—a love tap, really—but the eye was already like that when we found her.” 

“I wasn’t asking you,” Randall said, glaring at Buggy. 

“Shut up,” Ivo said, pressing the knife close enough to Randall’s throat that it broke skin. 

“No, no, let him go,” Buggy ordered casually, waving his hand. “He’s not gonna do anything stupid.” He threw an arm around your shoulder. “Not when I’ve got her.” 

Ivo reluctantly complied, releasing Randall. He watched you intently, and you knew what he was thinking. How could he save you?  

“Ivo over there thinks that the two of you are working together,” Buggy told you, smiling. His arm was heavy around your shoulders, oppressively so. “He thinks that we should kill you both.” 

“I’m not—I wouldn’t,” you told him. 

“And see, I wanna believe you. I really do. But he’s not talking, and,” Buggy ran his finger over your right cheek, reminding you of his threat from yesterday, “I’m starting to worry you’ve been lying to me.”

“I’m not,” you said, ice cold dread dripping into your veins a drop at a time. You fought your discomfort and forced yourself to meet his eyes, hoping he could see your sincerity. “I promise I’m not.” 

“Then how did he find this place?” 

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

“She used to hide here when we were kids,” Randall answered. “I thought she ran away, not that you freaks had kidnapped her. If I had known I’d find pirates here, I would have come armed.”

“Is that true?” Buggy asked you, pulling you even closer. Close enough to be embarrassing, to give the wrong impression, especially when he was stroking your cheek with a sort of affection that didn’t mesh with the danger in his blue eyes.

“I told you it is. Let her go, clown!” Randall shouted. His voice was loud enough to echo, and harsh enough to make you wince. That sort of rage wasn’t one you expected from him, but it was familiar all the same. 

“Oh, wow,” Buggy said with a laugh, looking up at him. “Is that jealousy I hear? She didn’t tell me she was leaving behind a boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said softly, your insides twisting at the thought. 

“Really?” Buggy asked. He shrugged, and looked at Randall. “If you’re not doing this because you want to have sex with her, why are you here?” 

“I am a dear friend—both to her and her dad,” Randall answered. “He asked me to look after her because she… She’s not in a sound state of mind. And she’s the only family he has left. Without her, he’ll have nothing.” He grit his teeth. “Take me, kill me if you’re that thirsty for blood, but let her go. Please.”

“You’re a real knight in shining armor. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but she came here all on her own,” Buggy said, releasing you to approach him instead. “She begged to join my crew, got down on her knees and told me that she would be happy to serve me for the rest of her life. It was the most adorable thing.”

“No,” Randall said, his face twisting with disgust. “You’re lying. She wouldn’t do that.”

“Ask her yourself,” Buggy invited, stepping aside and sweeping out his arm. All eyes landed on you like a spotlight. Blood rushed in your ears, and you felt dizzy with it, ready to pass out on the spot. When you looked at Buggy, he smiled and nodded encouragingly. 

“It’s true,” you said.

“No. That is impossible,” Randall said. “This is insane. You are mad, you cannot make decisions like this for yourself.” You stared at his feet, your hands balled into fists. You were not crazy. You were not. That had to be true. “Whatever hysterics brought you here, give it up. These are pirates.”

“I’m a pirate too,” you declared, your hands forming fists at your sides. You weren’t crazy, or mad. You were thinking very clearly, more than you had in a while. 

“No, you are your father’s daughter,” Randall insisted, loud enough to make you flinch. “Can you imagine the agony he would feel hearing you say that?”

Your breathing was too fast, rapid enough to make your head spin. You kept shaking your head, tears flying off of your cheek, but you couldn’t recall when you had begun to cry. “I don’t care.” 

“Don’t care…? This bastard has already gotten into your head,” Randall said. “He has poisoned your broken mind with his lies and manipulations, please don’t let this go any further.”

You shook your head again, but there was nothing you could think of to say. You didn’t want to talk anymore, you just wanted this to be over. 

“Believe me, as much as I would love to claim otherwise, I had nothing to do with this,” Buggy said, raising his hands innocently. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself. Think about what would drive a girl like this into the arms of a pirate. A broken heart, maybe? Was that your doing, lover boy? Did you break her heart? Make her feel like she wasn’t good enough?” 

“Keep your big goddamned nose out of our business, clown,” Randall said. 

The other pirates audibly gasped, and you could feel the sudden zap of tension in the air. Buggy’s taunting smile froze in place, his posture icing over like a statue. And then, a second later, he was rushing at Randall, burying his fist in the other man’s stomach. Randall crumpled onto his knees with a heavy grunt and you waited for something else, something worse. Crina said that Buggy had killed over jokes about his nose, and, right then, you believed it.

Nothing happened. You watched, frozen, as Buggy breathed in deeply, his shoulders rising and falling with it, and then he raised a hand.  

“New girl,” he called, snapping to beckon you closer. You obliged, rushing to his side. He didn’t look angry, not like you feared he would. Instead, he smiled. It was a mean smile, a frightening one. But a smile all the same. “Are you ready for your big moment?”   

“What?” 

“Your audition! I thought of the perfect act for you. Kill him.” 

You looked down at Randall, he was clearly still in pain, his eyes watering as he looked up at you. “I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head again.  

“You can and will. Assuming you want to remain on my crew. Otherwise I’ll kill him and you’ll have to explain to daddy why prince charming was here in the first place.” He held out his hand towards Ivo. “Knife.” When he got it, Buggy flipped the knife handle first, holding it to you with a flourish. “You’re up, babydoll.”

“She won’t do it, clown,” Randall said through grit teeth. 

“Of course she will,” Buggy said. “For me.” 

As if moving through the dusky haze of a dream, you took the knife, wrapping your sweaty hand around the grip. The way Buggy smiled in response made your heart flutter, something to cling to amidst the horror and disgust. It didn’t feel real anymore. How could it be real? 

“I don’t know what to do.” Were those your words? Your voice?

Buggy laughed. “Of course you don’t,” he said, circling behind Randall. “C’mere, I’ll help you.” 

Randall was shouting and pleading, but Buggy had grabbed a fistfull of his hair to keep him from escaping. 

“You’ve gotta hold him still,” Buggy told you. “Like this, see?”  

“-don’t do this, please. You can’t… I love you!” 

You got a fistful of Randall’s hair, making him cry out in pain. There was no pleasure in the sound, only a roiling sense of disgust. It would be better when he was dead, and then he wouldn’t be in pain. 

“God you’re short,” Buggy said as he adjusted you into place, right between him and Randall. “You’ll be better off going for their ankles.” He wrapped his hand around yours, getting a good grip on the knife and holding it still. 

“-when he gets bored of fucking you. That’s all pirates do, rape and murder. You’ll never be one of them, you’ll just-”

“Start on one side and move to the other, easy as that,” Buggy said comfortingly, resting his chin against the side of your head. 

“-he doesn’t kill you, your dad will. Do you really think you’ll ever be able to hide from him?” 

Moving slowly, through a dream, you put the knife on the left side of Randall’s neck. It was no different from what a butcher did, really. 

Breath in. Pull. You instinctively locked up at the sound of Randall’s screams and the resistance of his flesh, but Buggy forced your hand, pulling the blade deep into his neck and then fast to the side. The knife got caught part way through, stuck in something hard. You tried to saw through it and Randall made an inhuman noise of agony. Buggy had to help you unstick it, to follow through until the knife slashed that horrifying scream short and then there was just a sort of gurgling sound and you didn’t know if it was because he was still alive or if it was an automatic process. 

There was so much blood, and it was hot, burning you. For some reason, you hadn’t anticipated the messy scarlet spray. From the deep slice came more blood. More, and more still. Randall’s heavy, limp body dropped onto the floor into a puddle of it, although you weren’t sure when you let go of his hair. Buggy released your hand, but you didn’t drop the knife, holding it in a death grip as blood streamed like red veins down your hand and wrist, down the blade and all the way to its tip before dripping to the dirty floor. The tang of iron filled your lungs. You shook all over, all the way down inside, your bones and organs shivering. It was your heart. It pounded frantically, like butterfly wings. And your breathing. Wheezing, gasping, gurgling like Randall’s had before he fell.

Your mouth opened to exhale, but there was nothing there. No air, no words. Nothing. Your cold gaze turned to look at Buggy, confused as to what you were supposed to do next. He had led you this far, but now you were lost. He smiled, and laughed, and took the knife away from you, tossing it to the side where it clanged and slid away. 

And then he folded you into his arms, your head pressed against his chest. His heartbeat was firm and steady, and he was so warm. He smelled of gunpowder and salty sea air and greasepaint and the natural warm scent of his skin. You clung to that, breathing in deep to excise the scent of blood. 

“Congratulations, babydoll,” Buggy told you. “Looks like you just got the part.” 

The first firecracker went off not long after the sun had gone down, kicking off the surprise party with an especially loud zip and then a bang and a bursting sizzle. “It’s a surprise party,” Buggy told you, his face illuminated by the flash of red. “As in, the people who live here are going to be so surprised by the party I’m throwing for my crew. Get it?” 

A chain of firecrackers followed the first, a show that the pirates set off amidst a barrage of explosions, lighting up the sky with brilliant colors and smoke, making the earth tremble beneath your feet. They acted as distraction and lure, drawing people further into the town and inviting the ship that had been lurking nearby to enter the harbor. 

And after that came the chaos. 

Many things happened that you were aware of, if only passively. Leaving the northside and then Barley Village, waiting at the dock, and then boarding the ship as men and women in colorful attire flooded the yard, overtaking the few armed guards. You were told to sit on the deck and wait, so you did. Aware of it all—noxious sulfur and smoke filling the air, thunderous claps of explosives, popping gunshots, screaming voices, roaring fires—but uninvolved. There was a sense of great quiet. Not outside where things were loud and violent and scary, but inside. You were very quiet on the inside. Far away from everything and everyone else. 

Blood flaked off of your skin, caking beneath the nails when you scratched your arm. It would have been nice to wash it off, but you didn’t know where you would go for that, and you didn’t want to get up.

“Yoo-hoo, is anybody in there?” 

A gloved hand waved in front of your face. 

You let out a hoarse scream, nearly tipping backwards from how violently you startled. It didn’t take long for you to realize how overblown the reaction was, Buggy’s laughter made the point quite clearly. 

“What was that?” he asked, almost laughing too hard to get the words out. He stood above you without his coat and hat, although he kept the striped headscarf, and a bottle tucked under his arm. 

“You scared me,” you told him, a hand on your racing heart.

“That noise you just made though,” he said, still laughing. “It sounded like one of those scream-y fireworks.”

“I didn’t know you were there.”

“Your fault, not mine. I was trying to talk to you, but you just sat there. I thought it was your eye that didn’t work, not your ears.”

“I guess I… zoned out a little.” 

“No shit. Ah, that was good,” Buggy said as his laughter subsided. “I had no idea human beings could even make sounds like that.” Letting out a big breath to settle himself, he sat down next to you. Very close, far closer than you would have, almost touching. “Kinda makes me wonder what other kinds of sounds you can make.” 

“I know, it’s annoying,” you said, staring hard at the deck. “I’m sorry.” 

Buggy laughed at that too, shaking his head. “You really have no clue, do you?” he asked. “Is it weird that I’m into it?” 

“Into what?” you asked. “I’m sorry, I… don’t understand.” 

“I know you don’t, and that’s okay,” he said with a mocking sort of indulgence, patting your head. “Anyway, I had a little business in town and snagged this from some rich guy’s house.” He held up a bottle by the neck and swished its contents a little for effect. “We’re going to celebrate.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather be out there?” you asked, the first coherent question that came to your mind as it scrambled to make sense of what he had just said. 

“Between you and me, this,” Buggy said with a confidential hush, gesturing to your burning town, “isn’t my thing. It’s a reward for my freaks, gives ‘em an outlet to express themselves artistically. I prefer a more… performative platform. True art deserves a spotlight and an audience.” He waved that away, smiling. “But this isn’t about me, it’s about you.” 

“Me?”

“You really impressed me earlier. I mean, yeah, your technique needs polish, and you’ve got no stage presence to speak of, but you displayed raw talent. I really think you have a shot at success, sweetheart. Stick with me, and I’ll make something out of you yet.” 

“Thank you,” you said softly, shying away from thinking about earlier. The praise though, that was heady. That made you feel warm. 

Buggy popped the cork off the bottle, taking a drink straight from it and smacking his lips appreciatively. “You like sweet things, right?” 

“I-” 

“You’ll love this then. Here, try it.” 

You eyed the bottle he was proffering to you warily. Alcohol was something you were familiar with, but you could count on your fingers the number of times you had actually tasted it. “I don’t know…” you said, trying to think of ways to reject drinking without seeming ungrateful.   

“You’re a pirate now, so you’ve gotta learn to drink like one,” Buggy told you, pushing it into your hand. “What’s the worst that could happen?” 

You sniffed the open lip, surprised by the sweetness. It didn’t smell as strongly of alcohol as you feared. Not like what your father drank. Maybe it would be okay. Trying to avoid embarrassing yourself, you tipped the bottle back just like he had. That was a mistake. It didn’t smell like alcohol, but you could taste it—feel it, even. Panicked by your body’s natural response to expel it, you swallowed as much as you could, coughing out the rest. Red liquid drooled down your chin, staining the dress that was already ruined with dried blood. Buggy laughed. A little at first, and then a lot. 

Flushing, you wiped your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be like that. That was hilarious,” Buggy told you. You looked away, even more embarrassed. “Your face was priceless. You threw that back with the confidence of a real fire-hazard, saggy skinned, dead eyed alcoholic. You were so serious about it too, and then… Good lord.”

“I didn’t know!” you said, trying and failing not to sound shrill. 

“It’s okay, you’ve got me to help you now. Try it again, but don’t be so greedy. Baby sips.” 

“No, thank you,” you said, holding the bottle back to him. 

“Drink. That’s an order,” he said, pushing it back to you. 

That gave you pause. “Do you mean that?” you asked. 

He nodded, urging you on. 

Your shoulders drooped in defeat. Trepidatiously, you took a small sip. At least you didn’t hack it back up this time. While the taste was sweet, the burn was not. It rose up like smoke into your head, you could feel it.  

“What if I get drunk?” you asked. 

“Oh, you’re going to get drunk, captain’s orders,” Buggy said with a grin. “I can’t stand watching you sit around moping about killing that guy. Besides, you’re a pirate now.”

The little ball of anxiety deep in your gut doubled. This was wrong, you knew it was. Or maybe you were wrong, and Buggy was right. You didn’t know. 

“I don’t want to embarrass myself,” you muttered.

“As long as you don’t jump into the water or shit yourself, you’ll be fine…” You looked at him, horrified. “Joking! C’mon, I’ve taken good care of you so far, haven’t I? You’ll be fine.”

The way he laughed made you want to believe him. He was your captain now. You nodded seriously and, steeling yourself, took another drink. And another. 

“See? It’s good, right?” Buggy asked, holding out his hand for the bottle. 

You licked your lips, cleaning up the lingering sweetness. “It is. Thank you,” you said, unable to keep yourself from admiring the way his throat worked as he swallowed, the view unfortunately obscured by his cravat. 

The perverse thought took you by surprise. Was it the alcohol? Already, your head was spinning, your thoughts a little more disorganized. It wasn’t like the quiet, empty feeling of before. It was warm and distant, it made your shoulders relax, the anxiety and uncertainty of before fading. This was a good idea, you already felt so much better. When he passed the bottle back, you didn’t have to be prompted to imbibe, chasing that feeling.   

“I don’t mean to pry, but when that guy back there mentioned your dad, it really seemed to get to you,” Buggy said. “What, did daddy not love you? Or maybe he loved you a little too much.”

You didn’t want to talk about that. You didn’t want to think about it. You took another big drink. 

On the horizon, the town was utterly ablaze. As the night grew darker, the flames rose higher. Which building was burning so brightly? It belched thick, black smoke into the night sky. Who was in it? Anybody you knew?

“Don’t wanna talk about it, hm? That’s fine,” Buggy said, stealing the bottle back. “With any luck, my freaks’ll kill him tonight, eh? Then you’ll really be free.” 

“He’s gone right now,” you said, your words soft and slurring together. “Out of town.” What would he think of the smoldering ashes? Would he believe you had perished in the flame? Somehow, you doubted that. He would know what you had done. There was no chance of freedom, not for you. 

“That’s even better,” Buggy said.  

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned to him, both in confusion and disbelief. “How?” 

“Because, babydoll,” Buggy told you, shaking your shoulder to make sure you were paying attention. “It’s good to have somebody to hate—somebody to prove wrong. He tried to convince you that you’re crazy, he tried to keep you from ever being yourself. That pain and anger made you weak. But you’re not weak anymore. Tonight, I showed you how to be strong. It’s not enough to tell those assholes that they’re wrong, you have to prove it to them. That’s what tonight was about, right? You proved to your dad, to everybody, that you’re stronger than they thought. And, hey, you proved it to me, too. I wasn’t sure about you at first, but I changed my mind.” He threw an arm around you, pulling you close. “I like you, kiddo. A lot.” 

“I like you too,” you said, relaxing into the little side hug, very aware of every place his bare arm met your bare shoulders and neck. The alcohol had stoked a nice blaze in your stomach and chest, making your head spin in a way you didn’t mind that much. Smoothing the colors, softening the air, making you want to lean into his touch, made you crave more of it. 

Buggy pulled away, leaving the bottle in your hands. You felt a little cold without him.  

“You know,” he said, smiling at you. The far off flames glinted mischievously in his eyes. The flaring reds and oranges highlighted his cheekbones too, defined the sharpness of his jaw. You were caught off guard by how viscerally you reacted to the thought that he was handsome, your filterless mind caught in an endless loop of focusing on the fact. “Burning down this shithole is nothing compared to what I will do. The towns I’ll raze to the ground, the treasure I’ll steal, the shows I’ll put on. Now that I’ve got a crew, I’m gonna put on a show like nobody’s ever seen. The biggest, flashiest, greatest show ever. Everybody will be screaming my name, recognize my face. I’ll shine so bright that they’ll have no choice but to love me. ” 

Buggy’s intensity made you smile, you couldn’t help it. Alcohol had created a cloudy burst of affection within you, or maybe it was just the floodgates of tension finally collapsing, letting out something that would have otherwise been smothered. Either way, it was as intoxicating as the drink itself. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Buggy asked, his tone filled with steel. You looked to see his dark expression, his narrowed eyes. 

“I’m not,” you said, confused by his rapid shift in demeanor. “I’m… I’m happy. I’ll do anything to help you.” 

He relaxed. “Well, you’d better start working on your act.” 

That made you laugh, a dizzy, bubbly sound. “I can’t do an act. I wouldn’t know what to do.” 

“There has to be something. Let me think… Can you sing?”

“I used to, a little. But not for a really long time.” 

“Come on, let me hear it.”

You were drunk, you knew that for a fact because in no state of sobriety would you offer to sing in front of another person. But, right then, bubbling with alcohol and protected by the darkness of the smoky night sky, you felt invincible. 

“Oh, what do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning? Slash his…um… something, something, captain’s daughter. Toss him in… to… the dirty water…” Whatever coherence you held onto unraveled into a fit of drunken laughter at the awful rhyme. “I’m sorry, I think… I think I forgot some of the words.”  

“Seems like you forgot the tune too,” Buggy said, wincing dramatically. All that did was make you laugh harder. “Hold on a second, let me wipe the blood out of my ears.” 

You swatted his shoulder, although your attempted indignance probably wasn’t very convincing when you were still smiling. “Don’t be mean!”

“That’s a bold way to treat your captain,” he told you, but he was smiling too. 

“Please don’t be mean to me, Captain Buggy,” you said, speaking slowly to emphasize how serious you were. 

“Beg me again.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he said, waving it off in a way that made you think he was making fun of you. “Anyway, I’m being nice right now, especially after that performance. The critics would eat you alive for that one. So, singing is out. Clearly. What else have you got?”

“Oh! I know a, um, a rhyme. A joke.” 

He looked at you skeptically. “Really?” 

“What is that s’posed to mean?” you asked.

“You don’t strike me as somebody with… How should I put this… A sense of humor?” 

You frowned. 

“Alright, alright, quit pouting and tell me,” Buggy said impatiently, waving you to continue. 

You cleared your throat very theatrically, sitting up as straight as you could manage. 

“There was a young lass who thought

Very little but thought it a lot.

Then at long last she knew

What she wanted to do,

But before she could start, she forgot.”

Deflating, you laughed, surprised at how clearly you had delivered the words. Especially considering how long it had been since you heard them. 

Buggy didn’t look nearly as impressed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a clean limerick before,” he said. “And now I know why. I mean, what’s the point of limerick without the ick.”

You blew a raspberry at him. “Fine, you do one.”

“Okay, but you have to prepare yourself,” Buggy said. You nodded encouragingly.

“There was a young plumber named Lee

Who was plumbing his girl by the sea.

She said, ‘Stop your plumbing,

There's somebody coming’

Said the plumber, still plumbing, ‘It's me.’"

Belatedly, you gasped, your hands covering your mouth. That shock dissolved into giggles. “That’s, oh, that’s… that’s dirty.”

“Aw, was it too much for your delicate sensibilities? Now that you’re a pirate, you’re gonna hear a lot worse than that. A looooooooot worse. I hope your unspoiled ears can handle it.”  

“I can!” you insisted, taking a big drink to steel yourself before setting the bottle aside. If you were going to be a pirate, you had to stop getting so flustered. “More. Please.” 

“Okay, okay…” Buggy cleared his throat. “A hooker roaming the East Blue, 

Once filled her vagina with glue, 

She said, with a grin, ‘Well, they paid to get in, 

And they’ll damn sure pay to get out, too.’”

You laughed loudly, as much at the joke as the taboo nature of it. You laughed, and then giggled in a bubbly, drunken way that you knew was too loud and embarrassing. “That is icky,” you told him. “Jeez, that’s…” Your faux seriousness dissolved into a fit of giggles again and you leaned against him for stability. “What would you even do?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know. It sounds like a sticky situation,” he said, nudging you with his elbow. That, of course, sent you into another fit of giggles. 

“I’m sorry, I’m…” you said. “I think I’m drunk.” You looked behind yourself at the town, the glittery haze of joy buzzing in your head fading at the sight. It was horrific, wasn’t it? And here you were, laughing like a fool. You couldn’t really comprehend the magnitude of it all, even if you could acknowledge that it was terrible. “Is it okay?” you asked, looking back at him imploringly. “Everything that happened tonight… I thought I would feel very different after, but I don’t. It almost feels like it’s not even real. You ever get that? When things happen but they feel so impossible that you get confused?”

“If you can think that clearly,” Buggy said, “then you’re not drunk enough. Bottoms up, babydoll.” You smiled at his use of the pet name and the fluttery feeling it gave you. What else could you do but oblige, tipping the bottle back like before. Only, unlike before, you kept it all down. There wasn’t any real burn, just more sweetness, more warmth. 

And then there was nothing left. 

“Woah,” you said, lowering the empty bottle and wiping your mouth. “‘s all gone.”

“And how do you feel?” he asked. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a dizzy sort of laugh. “I dunno…” you said, closing your eye, trying to collect your thoughts. “I’m…” Already things were getting even more fuzzy and foggy. Fabric stuck to your flushed skin, the salty air drying across your chest and cheeks. “I feel… very…”

Making an upset noise in the back of your throat, you pushed your hair back, catching the bandana and pulling it off so you could feel the breeze on your whole face. That helped. Drawing in a deep breath, you looked at him, trying to focus. Only, the second you saw him, all you could do was smile. His eyes were greedy about the light, sparkling with it. Even with the nose, Buggy was handsome. That was not something you could tell him though, not at all ever. Unfortunately you had forgotten what you were saying in the first place. 

“Very… what?” Buggy asked. “‘Cause if you keep trying to be a buzzkill, I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

Were you a buzzkill? You couldn’t remember what you had said or done to earn that title. It was hard enough to comprehend what was happening in the moment. “Like what?” you asked.

“Like… this!” Buggy said, using the sash around your waist to pull you closer so he could tickle your sides. You jumped and squealed, the bottle rolling out of your hands as you tried to fight him off. 

“No no no, don’t,” you cried, trying to escape. You were being too loud, moving too much, acting like an idiot, but you didn’t have enough control to stop. 

“Why not?” he asked. “You’re laughing, aren’t you?” 

It was true, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, letting it out in panicked little bursts. Time had a bizarre elasticity to it, everything hitting you at once and fading just as fast. Laughing, sobbing, begging him to stop. It was easy to catch and hold onto one of his hands, but that left the other one free. And if you tried to catch that one instead, you had to release the first. There must have been a better way to do it, but you felt as if, bit by bit, particle by particle, the world was separating, the hot and humid air splitting, your limbs becoming loose, your capacity for rational thought dissipating like mist. 

Lacking any sort of control and with a completely undeserved sense of invulnerability, you tackled him. Buggy let it happen, still laughing. At least he had stopped. 

“God, it’s like being attacked by a drunk, one-eyed toddler,” he said. “What are you gonna do, whine me into submission?” 

“Don’t be mean,” you said seriously, your words ruined by something wavering between a laugh and a sob, or maybe it was just the drunken slur. 

“You attacked me. If anything, I'm the victim here.” 

“No! You started it!” 

“Hold on, are you… crying?” Buggy asked incredulously. “Aw, you poor thing. I mean, you were laughing so much, how could I have known you didn’t like it?” 

“I don’t!” you insisted. 

“To be clear,” he said. “You don’t like this?” He attacked your sides, not tickling so much as just teasing, but to the same effect. You yelped and sat up squirm away, swatting at his hands. 

Rather than laugh like before, Buggy groaned, his hips bucking up against you. A loud, harsh gasp left your mouth, your entire body going rigid from the liquid heat of friction, your thighs squeezing around him. At some point, your skirt had ridden up, your panties being the only barrier left. You didn’t think you had ever been as acutely aware of how achingly empty, electrically tingly, as you were right then. 

Bad. Very bad.

“Oh, there’s another fun noise,” Buggy said, laughing as he propped himself upright with his arms. “I can’t believe that got you.” 

“No,” you said quickly, dizzy from the intensity of your reaction and how close the two of you were. You could smell him, the sweat, the musk, the salt, the greasepaint, the gunpowder. You could see the glitter in his makeup, the fire catching in his eyes. “It jus’... surprised me.” 

“Is that why you’re shaking?” Buggy asked, rubbing your exposed thigh, the fabric of his glove catching the sensitive skin. 

“I’m… um…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to organize the drunken slush of your brain. Being so close to him, feeling his body against yours, sent deviously tantalizing tingling sparks through you. And guilt. It was wrong, he wasn’t doing anything to invite those feelings, you were just being weird and drunk and embarrassing and you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. You’d have to tilt your head a lot, although the stubble would be more hazardous than his nose. The last time you kissed someone, you were both young enough that you didn’t have to navigate facial hair. And then there was the matter of the makeup. You tried to imagine what you might look like after, the slash of red and imprint of white. Maybe they’d mix into pink. You tried to force yourself to focus on something else, but you couldn’t meet his eyes either. Nervous and confused and filled with a million different feelings you had no name for, you squirmed again, thoughtlessly adding to the anxious feedback loop of heat and need and intoxicated emptiness. 

“You know, sweetheart, this reminds me,” Buggy said, “there’s still the matter of your physical. It’s standard procedure for new crew. We could get that over and done with while you’re… lubricated.”

“What’re you… talking about?”  

“I’ve gotta make sure you’re fit, healthy… Clean of anything you could pass on to the forty or so people you’re gonna be stuck with in an enclosed space for weeks at a time.”

“How d’you do that?” 

“You’ve been to a doctor, right? It’s kinda like that. I know it can feel a little invasive, so it might be better to do it while you’re drunk.”

“What…” you started to ask, but then Buggy shifted, his hips pushing up against you. The fresh wash of warmth it sent into your core scattered your mind, and you lost the already tenuous thread of thought. Your eyelashes fluttered, although you weren’t sure when you had closed your eye. “Umm…”

“Well, first,” he said, answering the question you hadn’t asked, “you’d have to take off your clothes. Then relax while I have a little look-see. It’s important that you stay as still as possible. I’ll have a hard time finishing if you can’t stop squirming around the whole time.” 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, your brow furrowing. It sounded embarrassing. But maybe if it was him, you didn’t mind? Your dad did all of your past medical check-ups so it wasn’t inherently wrong. But the thought of Buggy seeing you without clothes wasn’t exactly nice, you could only imagine his disgust. That was bad. 

“Depends on if you’re serious about being a pirate or not,” Buggy said.   

“I am serious!” you exclaimed. Your hands went to the sash around your waist to pull the bow free. If you did it quickly, you wouldn’t be as embarrassed. 

“Woah, wait. Holy shit,” Buggy said, “are you seriously—” He cracked up laughing, making you freeze. “I didn’t think you’d actually fall for that.”

“You’re… laughing,” you said, your fingers falling with the slow sink of humiliation. 

“You really were going to strip for me, out in the open and everything.” Buggy laughed harder, rocking forward. “I didn’t expect you to be so eager. Hey, if you really wanna get naked, I’m not going to stop you.” 

“I don’t, I just… I thought…” you said, pulling away from him and trying to get onto your feet to get away, embarrassment lighting the worst sort of fire within you.  

“Woah, calm down, it was just a joke,” Buggy said, his laughter fading. “You’re absolutely plastered, if you stand up, you’re gonna fall right back down.” You didn’t stop, resolute to get onto your feet and put some distance between you and him. “I won’t catch you.” 

“’m fine,” you told him. 

You finally got your footing and braced against your knee to lurch upright. For a second, you were standing up and weightless. And then you were nothing.

[onyxonline]

Gentleness of The Sun

It's been a while since i've written something that isnt APA styled research papers for a grade. So hey! a Dogday/Zach (Angel) fic!

It has been exactly 10 months since they've escaped the factory, 2 months since Dogday's...kind-of-sort-of confession, and exactly 1 hour ago since said toy dog fell asleep on his lap. Angel- or should I say, Zach, watched as the chest area of the dog raised up and down, signaling that he was breathing. The human sighs himself and takes his brown eyes towards the settling sun on the horizon, its gentle rays of light breaking into the river that they sat by.

It was a day of fun, he thinks, they had gone for a hike, with Dogday insisting to go to the river by his home, one thing led to another and they ended up drenched in water, laughing all the way back to shore, Zach had removed Dogday's jacket and hanged it to a branch to dry. The human thankfully was dry, but with the giant dog sleeping on his lap, he knew that the pants were probably damp. Not that he would complain, Dogday being able to sleep at all is a good sign that there was nothing bothering him.

He remembered when they first came to his home, how tired and weary everyone were. He remembers Kissy gently lowering Poppy down to the sofa, sitting down herself and looking around, she may have had that perpetual smiling face, but he knew she was anxious, that any minute now something awful would happen to this safe haven. He remembered how Poppy, grateful to be freed, still felt very much scared of asking to reach different places, to be able to be comfortable, through her semi cheerful facade he could see a scared (little?) girl.

Then there was Dogday.

The ex-leader was almost always on edge when they first arrived, every little sound he was startled by, the darkness of the forest unsettled him, and goodness gracious if a storm arrived? He would be caught hiding inside Zach's bedroom, clutching onto a pillow for some sort of comfort.

The worst would come when night came and it was time for bed.

The nightmares were the main opponent that prevented Dogday from sleeping, memories of that dreaded jailcell, of the mini critters attempting to eat him alive...

Catnap's inevitable death.

The poor toy had it rough, and it took a lot of time and patience from Zach to slowly get him to sleep. and even more patience and care for the leader to sleep on his own.

Zach snaps back from reminiscing as he's startled by Dogday's sleepy mumblings. He looked down at the sleeping figure and gently pets his fur, now warm and dry thanks to the settling sun, smiling as the dog seemed to lean into the touch more.

(He will think about the possibility that Dogday's touch starved for another day).

=================

Ya'll this was kinda cringe <333

[tangerinesgirl]

Used

***Spoilers for Abigail (2024)***

Fem!Reader x Frank/Adam Barrett (Abigail)

Word count: 1.2k

Rating: 18+, explicit

Synopsis: Frank corners the reader when he is turned, his animalistic urges take over.

Warnings: holy moly where to begin...

DEAD DOVE, non con, yandare, Frank is a literal monster, p in v, blood as lube, spit kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, degradion, exhibition, Stockholm Syndrome, creampie, lots o' body fluids, squirting, major character death, hanging, asphyxiation

Notes: PLEASE note this is a dark fic and to proceed with caution! I can't emphasise this enough. I apologise in advance. This is also so much porn with very little plot. Spoilers: it's a bad ending for reader (or is it, maybe they get turned, who knows, it's ambiguous, it's up to your imagination)

The person who walks in on you and Frank doing the dirty can be anyone you like, gender is non specific, so have fun with it.

A lot of this is inspired from the Theatre des Vampires in Interview With The Vampire (1994) and also Fright Night (2011) where Jerry kills Doris in his basement.

🦇

Frank starts walking quickly towards you, throwing the stake he just used to kill Lambert to the ground. You trip and fall as his sudden movement makes you jump, not thinking or looking where you're going. You scuttle backwards into a wall, helpless, as Frank looms over you.

"Gotcha". Is is all just a sick game for him now? What happened to the Frank you met earlier? He bends down to meet your eye line and tuts.

"Why are you fighting this? I mean...I've seen the way you look at me...and look at the way you're dressed. It's like you're asking for it." Frank rips off your short black polka dot dress, and aggressively shrugs you out of it. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and removes them roughly too.

You clench at your breasts trying to find some decency. Frank leans down to shush into your ear, as he reaches down behind your back to remove your bra. A tear rolls down your face as he does so. He bites the corner of his lip as he wipes it away with his thumb. He looks at his thumb then to you as he takes it and wipes it around his lips. His eyes on you at all times, he tilts his head like he's calculating his next move.

Suddenly Frank lunges towards you, you startle backwards and are pinned to the wall. He stops and takes your hands at your breasts. He removes them and takes one of your fingers around his face, lips, and into his mouth. You kick and flail out, hitting Frank in the shin. He looks down then at you, the kick doing nothing with his new found strength.

He pins your hands above your head with a grunt. You can hear him breathing heavily into your ear, the occasional growl like a wild fucking animal. Everything Frank was is gone.

With his other hand, Frank traces his fingers down your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers trail down towards your breasts as he massages a handful. Your body betrays you and you let out a small moan as he starts to roll your nipple between his thumb and index finger. He notices and looks at you with a smirk as he sinks his fangs into your chest.

You wince in pain at first, but as Frank settles down, your body starts to relax, your heartbeat lowering. Pleasure starts to mix with the pain as the excess blood Frank hasn't ingested travels down your body, lower...lower...pooling at your entrance.

Frank grabs your hip as he drinks deeper, getting more and more messy as he does. His hand slides down your body and notices the puddle forming at your core. He uses it to swirl around your swollen clit. Frank notices how wet you're getting and laughs, "dirty girl..."

He swipes two fingers along your folds, collecting blood and your juices. He holds them out to you for you to lick. You scrunch your face and turn away. Frank grabs your neck forcefully to look at him as he wipes the liquid over your face. "You're going to look at me as I claim you as mine, kill you, and then all your friends", he threatens you. He holds your mouth open and swirls his digits on your tongue. He tilts your head up and slowly spits into your mouth. As the drop of sputum enters into your mouth, he closes it until you swallow the concoction. While he waits squeezing your mouth shut, he undoes his belt and trouser buttons.

His penis bounces free, pre cum already leaking out of him. He's quite well trimmed, average girth wise, but longer than average...but oh so veiny. You swallow, and Frank catches you staring. He smirks at you as he starts palming himself at the sight of you.

You wine as he does this, even though you hate Frank's guts right now, you're desperate for him to be inside you. A touch of Stockholm Syndrome maybe, you think. Or your mind is just broken from bloodloss.

Frank starts swiping himself between your folds, using your blood as lube. Suddenly he slams into you and you jerk against the wall, your fingernails clawing at the floorboards. Frank, still inside you, moves your legs to give him a better angle. One on the floor, the other up and bent, giving him somewhere to lean on and forcing you as wide as possible, as he aggressively fucks into you.

You look towards the door and see one of your friends, standing agape at the sight and frozen in fear. You look towards them, putting a finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet. They back away slowly, nodding.

Frank is too busy to notice as he throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing deeper into you. He moans as he looks down at your stomach, seeing the bulge of himself.

You can feel yourself closer to orgasm, arching your back, as you come undone. Your walls start to clench around him, but his aggressive thrusts force out extra liquid from inside you. Your toes clench as you feel yourself squirt, your cheeks growing bright red. It's bad that you've orgasmed with the creature that was Frank, but squirting??

You curse yourself as you look down at Frank who is quietly laughing manically to himself, knowing his power over you, as he starts to reach his climax. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he groans out his orgasm. Your liquids mixing with his seed. Frank continues to thrust into you, feeling the bulge in your stomach as he somehow continues to release into you.

As soon as he's satisfied you're full enough, he starts to spill into your stomach, mixing with the blood from your breast. It seems to last forever. You look at him, his body twitching, milking himself of every last drop of cum, as he continues to stroke himself. He places a palm on the wall behind you to give himself some leverage and to remain somewhat standing up as his cum leaks all over your naked body, going up towards your face. He starts to slow, coming down from his high. He can't help himself but to try some of his cum mixed with your blood and licks up your stomach, some of his strength coming back to him. He moans audibly, "Fuck, we taste so good. It's a shame I'm finished with you now".

As Frank stands up, you look at him, pleading to stop. He looks around the room and finds a nice length of rope, and starts to wrap it around your neck. He drags you to the top of the stairs, the floorboards grazing your back, your hands clawing around your neck trying to escape. But Frank is too strong. He starts tying the rest of the rope around the bannister as you're crying at him, unable to speak. He then lifts you like you weigh nothing, to sit on the rail of the stairs. He takes one last look at you, with a hint of disgust, as he pushes you off the rail.

Your neck instantly snaps, your blood and his cum that was on your chest starts dripping onto the floor. Frank disappears into the house as the remaining survivors run to the lobby to see what all the noise was. They stop in fear, one person slips over, one throws up. Another takes a step back to see the message written in your blood on the floor: "I'M COMING".

[blank-slate-jay]

Shared Warmth

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: Joel brings reader to an abandon home, that he wants to call home for the two of you. Something erotic in Joel ensues seeing you in just your underwear.

Tags: Smut (18+), Anal, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Joel, Fluff, Established Relationship, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Longest fic I've ever written so far. I don't know how I managed to conjure this! Could've split this into two parts, but decided this is better as one post to make this more cohesive. Enjoy!

AO3! | Reposts are much appreciated!

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"You'll see," is what you had received.

A response with very little context, a saying with many different meanings.

You didn't know what to make of this, sitting behind him on the horse with your arms around his waist, you genuinely felt left in the dark. It was very much like Joel to leave you questioning the tones under his voice. Most of the time it was just Joel being Joel, being the closed off man that he was. But the man was in a very good mood, deliberately mocking your naivety with a chuckle.

You sighed, "where are you taking me", saying it more toward yourself than to Joel. Being nearly a day away from Jackson, the question was a reasonable one. After all, what purpose was there to go beyond Jackson for? A gated community was a blessing in times like these, and yet strangely for you, something felt off. Living there has made you feel out of place, made your relationship with Ellie and Joel seemly less meaningful. Perhaps being in a safe haven, with so many people, wasn't truly what you sought.

Bizarre for sure that if you say it out loud, you knew people would call you crazy. You yourself felt you might’ve lost your mind. However, you can’t deny your feelings. Those days, weeks, and months traveling with Joel and Ellie across the country - those were some of the best times you've had even with the looming danger around every corner.

Regardless of what was going through your head, you weren't complaining, being back out into the world. The orange glow of the sun only served to emphasize this notion, piercing through the branches just above your head. It created this relaxing setting, one you can bask in for an unhealthy amount of hours.

"Do you have an idea of where we might be goin'," Joel asked.

Cruel. Just damn cruel, asking you a question you knew he'd leave open ended. Still, you played along.

"I’m assuming it’s pretty big,” after relaying that the man hums finally providing you with a clue, even if its unspecified. “…and that you aren’t playing some trick on me. So, a mall?”

“Try again.”

“A museum?”

“Nope…”

You let out a frustrated grunt, wishing the ladder were true. “Lake?”

Joel took longer to respond, “Mmm,” the man thought about it. “Not quite, it’s close by, but not important.”

You scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder, unsure of what he has disclosed so far is true or not, "Should I already know what it is?" Maybe that'll give you the upper hand.

"I doubt you'd guess this," Joel responses.

"So I'm guessing that a no then?"

The older man nods, turning his head to you before replying with a, 'Yeah'. There was no use in trying by that point. The constant persistence wasn't doing you both any favors. Joel probably had a reason to keep it secretive, so why spoil it? Knowing ahead would've made the trip less intriguing, if not boring. And on the bright side, what'll come will actually be a surprise.

Rather than playing into Joel's trickery you let it go, lifting your head back up, "Alright you won, I forfeit."

"Finally givin' up."

You reply, “I think I have too. I’ve ran out of ideas,” you lied just exhausted by the mind tricks, “Unless you want me to keep going?”

Joel partly wanted you to continue, to get back at you for all the times you fucked with him. He was starting to understand the fun in it now and why you did it to him. He settled for one more jab at you, “Will you get it a right this time?”

"Shut it" you giggle, bumping the man's thighs with your legs. Your comment did do the trick, as Joel fell silent after your remark. You could tell the man was smiling though; his rising cheek gave it away. Some of you was certainly rubbing off onto him, to know the man was now more comfortable with you was flattering.

Joel then reaches down for your leg, placing his hand right over your kneecap, caressing it like it was precious. “Don’t worry now, sugar. We’ll be there shortly.”

His considerate touch, that softness in his voice. Those two components together were enough to send a warm feeling throughout your body. How easy Joel could just captivate you by his touch alone, you guessed that was just how love worked.

You nodded your head as if he could see you, humming to acknowledge his words. Again you laid your head against him, face now between the back of his bare neck and the collar of his blue shirt. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the sounds of nature around you to pass the time.

---

Sometime later, you found yourself opening your eyes to the sound of Joel's voice. Your vision, well adjusted to the growing darkness of dusk, focused on the dirt path some feet away.

"We're here," Joel says, spiking your interest enough to get your full attention. You lean back from the man's frame, hands rubbing the bags under your eyes.

Taking a look at the dirt path, you gaze in both direction. One leading deeper into the forest and the other extended out into a clearing. You confusingly study the area, unable to spot anything of interest. No water, no structure, not even a tree with any unique properties. You couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered, some of that feeling escaping through your lips with a quick 'Umm'. Stealing a glance at Joel's side profile, you tried reading what little you could see of his face.

He nods, "Good. You're awake. It's just this way," he explains, spurring the horse to get them moving in the direction of the dirt path.

Huffing in relief you spoke, "Phew, not gonna lie you almost got me there," thinking Joel might've been toying with you still. He turns his head to you, claiming that he wasn't going to bring you out there for nothing. If the man had told you that some time ago, you would have a hard time believing him.

Trotting forward, the horse comes into close proximity of the tree lines. Just on the other side you could barely see something faint between the leaves; a building of sorts. By what you could see the distance made it difficult to tell with the addition of nature covering your view. The universe really made things difficult for you. For what what it was worth, you were sure Joel didn't want you to see it until you stepped out into the open field. Still, the suspense was killing you.

This wasn't going to last any longer as Joel turns the horse right into the clearing. The tree's now finally out of view, you were hit with the red beam from the sun, blinded by your curiosity and in exchange being blinded by the sun in return.

You squint some, grunting as your gaze trailed around the perimeter. There was lots of tall grass, a noticeable transition compared to the on's just behind them. It stretched far beyond what your eyes could already see. Of course your mind was then caught up by the building some distance away.

There was a house. Someone's house. A house, that looked to be in good conditions. Surprisingly the lone tree just beside it has yet to infect the home with any vines. It made you believe that someone had to have lived here not too long ago. That person was one lucky bastard to have that home to themselves, you thought, imagining how nice the interior had looked.

"Ain't that something", Joel spoke, pretending as if it was his first time being there.

You comment, "Looks lively." A good point compared to everything the two of you had seen on the way there.

But Joel corrected you, "It's empty actually, has been for awhile". You let out a quick 'Huh', taking in his words, further scanning the house. The sidings are a tinted white, slightly scrapped on some parts of the wall. The dark colored roof, contrasting with the siding, made the home brighter than it already seemed. The house stood tall, two stories at most based off the windows, with the first floor being linked with the porch.

It was both funny and disheartening how attached you felt to this home already compared to the one you, Joel, and Ellie shared in Jackson. You kill to live in a home like this, not that you hated your existing home, just this one felt...right to you. Exterior alone, it reminded you of your old house pre-outbreak.

"Can we go in," you asked. A silly question, like you needed Joel's permission to enter the desolate property.

Joel responded sarcastically, dragging out the phrase "Nooo", with his gruffy voice. You knew he was only kidding and was now becoming intrigued by what was inside. Even so, the invasive feeling creeping up your stomach didn't go away yet. You looked around, taking in a full scope of the area. You trusted Joel of course, something that had improved since you first met. But your vigilant, alert mind hadn't shifted in the slightest; only improved thanks to being with Joel.

You turn your head around, looking behind you and at the edges of the tree lines to ensure that no one was following or coming. Like it even mattered, Joel had already assured your safety. You guessed it was better safe than sorry.

With your head now facing to the left, you gaze over to the far side of the field. So far that walking there would be ineffective. The field, a tad bit sloped, dragged on into the distance stretching too far for you to even consider. The sun made the entire sight something you'd see only from a painting or photograph. Sure enough, Joel wasn't lying from earlier when he confirmed there was a lake, just far off at the ends of the slope.

Joel steady the horse, grabbing the reins tightly to slow her down to a halt. "Alright," the man sighed. You let go of his waist as he began to move, his boots shaking the stirrups while he steps down from the horse. He then reaches his hand up to you. You gladly took it, allowing the man to pull you down.

You thanked him, a small smile stretching across the side of your face as you looked at the older man. He reciprocated your gesture with a smile of his own, one that made the wrinkles near his eyes stand out. He didn't have to mutter a word for you to know that he heeds your words.

The man turned his attention then to the horse, letting go of your hand in the process. He grabbed the reins and moved the horse over to tie it up to on of the porch's pillars. While he does so, you made your way up the few stairs, the wood creaking beneath your shoes.

Your hands trailed along the rails, rough and also smooth against your skin. Your eyes darting up and down the walls. Closely the walls looked more worn down, not too badly but could use some improvement.

You turned to look back at Joel who was slinging his bag over his shoulder. The man brushes his hand by your arm and passes by you. He walked up to the door before pushing it open. He moves his back agains the open frame, "Come".

Peaking inside for a moment, there was no way the house was empty like Joel had inferred. "Empty, huh. Doesn't look the way to me.", you look at the man with a snarky look on your face.

He looked unfazed by your humor, the man's face falling a bit flat. It reminded you of the times he'd looked at you after having to endure some of your playful banter. Those times were fun back when you traveled the country together with Ellie.

"Get in" he insisted, sounding annoyed but also seconds away from chuckling.

You don't push your luck and brush by the man still with that look on your face as you pass by him. To wipe that look off your face, Joel smacks your backside causing you to yelp; biting his lips in sync. It was a bastard move, but you weren't complaining. Looking back at him was either rewarding or a mistake cause he was making the face you familiarizes yourself with, best described as hunger. God. Choosing your next action carefully was smart cause anything that insight him to grab and kiss you, would lead to something more...erotic.

Not giving into temptation, you turn your attention to the living space ahead, balling your hand into a fist and squeezing it with the other hand. "This is...quite the place," you stated, stepping further into the home. You weren't kidding. The place had an aura very reminiscent of a cabin, the amount of woodwork around the living room alone gave you that impression. However, the house looked and felt homey all the same.

You walked up to a small craved out sculpture, shaped like a bull, placed above the small fire place. While inspecting it's form you brought up a question, "How'd you find all this?"

"Me and Tommy we're riding out", he started as the man trailed over to the wall to place his bag down, "And I wanted to do some more exploring but Tommy wanted to go back. So I let him and luck would have you..," the man finishes by raising his arms up some like he was revealing something grand, "...got my hands on this."

You nod, looking away from him to fiddle with the small bull, "Cool, it's like a comfy outpost. I like it". You then used the bull like a pointer, motioning it in the man's direction, "You weren't gonna hold out on us were you?"

Joel shook his head, making his way over to you. "Firstly this isn't a toy," he says, grabbing the small figure out of your hand. He places it back into its original spot before resuming, "And secondly, I was going to tell you, specifically just you about this place."

He was? You raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what significance a place like this would even have. It wasn't somewhere you'd visited with Joel before, nor was it a house that held any meaning to you prior to arriving. So what gives? "Just me", you muttered.

The man smirked some, finding it adorable how dumbfounded you appeared. He stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel the warm heat from his nostrils flaring against your face. “Yeah, just you”, he repeated, his voice now closer to a whisper. 

You could feel his hand grasping at yours as you kept your eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry, I feel I’m missing something here”. The man, obviously still listening, lifts your hand up to his own face, gently rubbing it against his cheek. His scruffy beard, pricked your palm as you cupped the man’s face. 

The man wondered if he should even answer. Your palm, tender against his rough skin nearly made him forget how to speak. Made him almost forget what you had even asked. He had held it longer than he should've, feeling slightly guilty for holding something like this off from you. He felt you inquired more than enough today. 

With your palm, slowly being squished between the man's hand and cheek he explains, "I got this for us. At Tommy's...I know things have been different between us since we got there. We, spend a lot of time outside of town, sometimes don't even spend time with each other much anymore. I thought it'd be nice to have our own space again, you know away from...everything. When I found this it just clicked for me. Felt like we could call this place home."

Your face was at ease, hearing him say what had been on your mind, spiked your attraction to the man further than you thought was possible. Every word, every sentence hit the mark for you. For a moment, you could swear he had to have read your mind at some-point. Either that or being with you had made it easy to determine what was bothering you. Regardless, having a place faraway for yourselves sounded too good to deny, especially when it was exactly what you wanted.

You couldn't quite put your thoughts into words, simply letting out a confused giggle, unsure of how to follow up on Joel's reveal.

Joel takes notice of this, captivated once more by your expression. He then breaks the silence, "You've asked a whole of questions. Now let me ask you this, how do you feel about living here with me, sunshine."

You nodded immediately, maybe a bit too quickly and possibly too eagerly. "I'd...love to," the words finally falling out of your mouth.

The man response, turning his head some to kiss your palm between an utter, "Good." His lips softly trailed down, like he was following the curved lines on your hand. Each kiss felt delicate, purposeful, each with some kind of meaning supposedly. That was just within Joel's transcended mind, he couldn't help himself, he got lost quickly whenever he'd feel your touch.

You leaned yourself forward, pulling your hand away from his mouth to wrap it around the back of his neck. Tugging him forward you embrace him, finding his hips as a comfortable spot to rest your free hand. No surprise, Joel indulged, pulling you into his arms too.

The two of you stood for some time, merely appreciating and savoring the moment of intimacy. You didn't think any words could pinpoint how much you loved Joel. Not even the word ‘loved’ felt like it was doing him justice. It was beyond that.

“What did I do to deserve you," he mutters above your ear.

“Luck," you say.

He hums, knowing it to be true but hating the notion of life without you, fighting for you made it all worth something, made it mean something. He made small circles around your back, just being grateful he had you now, thankful that you made it to this point to be there in his arms.

"I'm making dinner," Joel says, catching you off guard for a moment. "Got the ingredients for your favorite."

You knew what he was talking about, it was meal you'd two shared before and you couldn't keep quiet about your enjoyment of the dish, even while eating the damn thing.

Luck would have you, again, you were about to experience that meal again.

---

You turned the running faucet of the soothing shower off, grabbing the towel just off the shower's hinges to wrap yourself in its warmth. Stepping out the tub, you began to dry yourself, wiping away all the sweat you'd built up after leaving Jackson. Once knowing this new place had running water, you were quick to jump for the shower, never skipping the opportunity to get yourself clean.

Joel was just downstairs prepping dinner for the two of you. You wondered if it was already finished since you spent way too long wandering the upstairs plane; checking the available rooms before finding the shower. You were sure it wasn't even done yet since Joel would've called out for your name by that point.

Wiping away the last remnants of water, you threw on some spare clothing, a shirt and just your underwear, from your backpack before stepping out the restroom. The cooler air hit your body, nothing you wouldn't accept since the season was a lot warmer; spring.

You made your way into the master bedroom. In this case, your shared room with Joel. Not much was in it. Compared to the other bedroom, which hosted nothing at all, this one at least had a bed and a few dressers. You weren't complaining since the room felt less compacted and more freeing.

Walking into the room you toss your towel onto the bed, taking in the open space, a stark contrast to your room back in Jackson. The thought of what you could implement to this room had your mind racing momentarily. Like what you could put within the corners or whether you should put any entertaining devices in the room. Maybe not the last part probably cause Joel would advise keeping those contained to the living room.

It got you pretty thrilled thinking about what you could do in general now that you weren't limited to a communities resources. This of course meant you didn't have as much to work with, but everything you gathered would or could be used to further improve your new home.

You started comparing your home back in Jackson to the one you have here. Down to it's interior, format, and spacing. You thought about the kitchen, dinning area, your shared room, Ellie's room. Ellie. Again you thought about her, a realization hitting you in the process. 'Fuck' you sighed under your breath. So caught up and enthralled by a nice change of environment, you hadn't even thought about her wellbeing.

At the moment, she was at Tommy and Maria's place, likely giving them a hard time as you'd expect. The usual for Ellie. But being so far away from her, not being there for her made you somewhat fazed; a pinch of disgrace too. That girl was tough and she needed to grow up around people to understand what it's like to live. But on the other hand, she'd follow you and Joel to the ends of the earth, she said it herself.

Throughout the wave of thoughts, washing within your head, you were by the window now. Hands perched up on the dresser just below the glass's border. The spot made for a great place to reflect. Perhaps this would be a good position to do it, overlooking the grassy plains, it gave your head a hub place to ponder.

If it weren't for you being lost in your thoughts, you would've been aware of the man standing by the door frame watching you; completely out of eyesight. Joel, leaning up on the frame with his arm, exhales an exaggerated sigh to catch your attention.

You turn, startled by the sudden noise. Realizing it was just Joel you relaxed. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you joked.

His presence definitely lightened you up, giving you something to distract yourself from any thoughts running in your head. You'd talk out how to settle Ellie's situation with Joel, it'll work out; you knew it would with Joel by your side.

"Sorry" he started, his eyes gazing upon your exposed legs. "Dinner's ready."

You nod, "Alright. I'll be down in a bit."

You thought after relaying this to Joel, that he'd leave and wait for you downstairs. But he didn't move, his figure remaining still as his eyes stayed focus on you. He nods too, but it seemed more that he did it subconsciously since his eyes weren't locked with yours.

The look was back and more prominent than ever. The dark look that you avoided earlier, was calling out for you to let him have you. Mixed with the half smile across his face made for a deadly combo.

You tried being clever, looking about the room to see if your bag was in sight. It wasn't, but you were sure it was still in the restroom after changing out your clothes. "I'm gonna grab my pants, really quick-"

"You don't have to" Joel says, his fingers playing with his nails. "I think you look fine already."

Failed, you tried getting to see if the man would hold off, tried keeping him at bay at least until you both were in bed. But no, you only drew more attention to your undergarments. To make matters even worse, Joel's gruff voice had caused a twitch between your legs. A slight growth a hardness, noticeable by both of you.

Joel bit his lips, taking his weight off of the door, "You're not too hungry, right?"

This was the one time where choosing your words carefully would be wise at the moment. However, you felt there was no turning back now. He wanted you, now. And you wanted him more. You sheepishly shook your head, "Not really", finally falling for the man's glare.

While you spoke, Joel already had closed the gap between you too, looking into your eyes for a moment. He hooks the front of your trousers with his finger, pulling you closer to him until his lips were locked with yours. You inhaled deeply, feeling a tingle shake your spine.

He cups the sides of your face, passionately parting his lips to slide his tongue inside. Fast as Joel was to get things going, you accepted. The warmth elevated by the mixing of each others taste made the tightness in your underwear uncomfortable.

Joel's huffs deeply into the kiss, his grip, grew stronger with each passing second. His weight started to shift your stance, causing you to back up until you hit the dresser behind you. You grunted against his mouth, not letting the movement stop you from continuing to brush your tongue against his.

Both moaning and breathing heavily, you grab at his collar shirt, playing with one of the buttons to get it open. You tried getting him to undress, a chance taken from you when he grabs your wrist tightly. The man wanted nothing but to feel your skin against his own. He wanted to savior the moment. He liked the build up, he loved the anticipation.

His hands were free from your face, but they soon started invading your shirt. He rampaged through it, running them around your shirt before sticking them in by your sides. You tremble at his touch. His hand created a warm sensation on your skin, reminding you of the times he’d draw circles on your back whenever you’d lay in bed together.

For you, gripping his jawline pulled you two closer, crotches colliding too. It peaked Joel’s interest, his eyebrows raising between the groans against your lips. Joel’s jeans made it difficult to tell, but it was clear you were hard, just as hard as he was. That got him to smile into the kiss, proud he could get you really erect quickly.

You parted your lips from his, only a few inches apart. You used the moment to catch some air, something you knew you wouldn't be granted later the further you proceed.

You questioned his smile, "What?" "Nothing," he says, his accent rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Just you". He waits a moment before throwing himself back into the fray, wanting your lips to be sealed with his.

Aggressive, he pushes you harder against the dresser, unintentionally crushing you moments before dipping down to grab your legs and halting you onto the wooded surface. The dresser creaked, not adapted to a person being onto but that didn't concern either of you. The man caress your thigh, slow and aimlessly, while his other hand yanked at the front of your underwear once more.

He wanted you to take them off so badly and you didn't waste a moment. You shook yourself, getting enough room under you to slip them off. Joel helped, his steaming breath hitting your slowly exposing skin made you pick the pace up. He help fully get them off, letting the cloth hit the ground. His gaze fixed on your now exposed erection made him forget to breathe.

“Now your turn”, you said.

Rubbing his hands down your legs, he reaches down for his zipper to unbuckled his pants. His belt clicked and his pants loosened, dropping everything done to the floor with a thud. He swiftly took his underwear off too, slipping it fully off and sliding everything off to the side with his feet.

You let out a shaky exhale, your eyes so baffled by how hard his cock was; rock solid and strictly standing upward. Your started pondering if you could even take it. Under these conditions you would have to take him raw. There had to be something to use, you thought something to make it easier for him.

“Hey”, Joel’s voice soft on your ears. He tilts your head up to hold your gaze, “Eyes on me.” He slowly caresses the features on your face, adoring just how amazing your eyes looked and how kissable your lips were. Those lips, looking at them intently he slips his thump across the bottom half. He wanted to nibble on them, gently bite to leave a mark on them; to leave evidence of his pass doings.

He used his other hand to play with your cock, making sure you were staying hard for him. You assisted him with your palm overlapping his; working in unison. It was subtle and worked to keep you both pleasured while focusing on the man.

Joel dipped his finger between your lips, “Open your mouth, baby”. Your lips separated and he slid his finger in. A bitter taste hit the roof of your mouth as he swirled his finger around. “Get it nice and wet for me. Gonna need it for the hole of yours.”

So this was the alternative. Normally you and Joel would talk about using some sort of cream for sex. With seemingly none around to use, your mouth would have to do. You started sucking on his finger for a bit, his thick finger, took up a good portion of your mouth. Not enough to suffocate like his cock, but enough to make you think about how to manage your tongue’s movement. After the first finger he switched it out for another, a small line of saliva leaking out every time he’d pull out.

Three finger were soaked now, three fingers you were sure would break you, more than his cock would. You shiver, trying to estimate the width of his fingers with that of his cock. It served no purpose other than question your capabilities. What good did that do you, especially now?

Joel releases your cock, and trails his hands down to your balls. You knew where he was headed, this wasn’t your first rodeo with Joel. You lifted your leg up, leaning back onto one elbow to keep yourself upright. Joel effortlessly threw your hovering leg over his shoulder, getting a view of what he’d been dying to see. Your hole, albeit at an angle was still visible and accessible which was the only thing that mattered to Joel.

The man, looked to your eyes for conformation, he wanted to make sure you were ready. There wasn't a hint of denial in your face, Joel loved that look.

Coming into close contact, he circles around your entrance. His rough fingers toyed with your hole, allowing the sensations to prepare you for his soon to come entry. God the feeling alone was making you wish he just put himself inside you, knowing it might hurt but still wanting him to push deep in.

No longer waiting, Joel pushes a finger inside, slowly. You narrowed your brows, the walls of your ass being breached caused a slight spark in your stomach. His finger slid relatively easily, getting your breathing to become shakier than before. It was nothing you couldn't take and his finger was satisfying, it might've been enough to make you cum. His second finger though, made itself known too, pushing in with the first.

You winced, wishing Joel had warned you. Two thick fingers inside was about right, it felt about the size of Joel's cock at it's hardest. Staying with this rhythmic push and pull inside your hole made you believe you were ready for him to fuck you. But one other finger remained, one still damp and set to go.

A yelp escaped your lips feeling the third join the other two. It hurt for sure, causing you to throw your head back as a jolt reaction. You bump the glass pane behind you, the light outside barely shining onto the side of your face. You reached up to grab at Joel's collar, the fabric bringing some level of comfort with it's pure softness.

"Relax..." the man groans.

Fuck you wanted to, but how could you when the man was expanding your ass with every thrust. It made you grip his collar tightly as you kept your eyes tight to prevent it a tear from falling. The feeling was both painful and enjoyable, the tingles running up your stomach never ceased and neither did the sting in your hole.

You started to tell, no, insist that he fuck you. It escaped your mouth through a whine, a part of you wanting him to just remove a finger or two to let you relax. You knew it had purpose, you knew why he was pushing your limits. The longer you held, the easier it would be for him to push himself inside of you. Still you begged, "Please...Joel...take me, just fuck me."

Through your closed eyelids you couldn't see the man, shamelessly smirking, "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it, sugar pie."

You gasp, "Bad".

He groans, "Yeah?". He licks his lips, "Want me to go really deep in there, want to me fuck you real good."

"Uh...huh"

He pushes fingers deeper than usual "How badly?"

You gasped, "Really fucking bad. FUCK".

Joel groans, acknowledging your plead. If you wanted it that badly, he wish you told him sooner. He pulls his fingers out, the sounds of your hole getting him excited. It was wet now, just the way he liked it. In one swift motion, Joel flings your other, idle leg over his shoulder and yanks you forward until your backside was against his crotch. His cock, bumping into your balls got another sound out of you.

You relax into the dresser the best you could, letting your elbows rest and leaning your head back until it was laying against the glass again. It wasn't the most comfortable positions for your neck, you didn't pay much mind to this though as Joel began running his hands up your thighs. With your legs so close to his face, he also started leaving kisses and bite marks you knew would be visible the next day. He wasn't about to let you off without at least some marking, whether it'd be visible later or hidden by your clothes didn't concern him.

Breathing hard against your skin, his gaze turns back to his hard-on. He reaches for it, while overlooking your body. He lines it up to your hole pushing, not inside of you yet, but rather around the exterior.

Again with the teasing, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes but refusing to try. Did the man not tire of his own nonsense? You shifted your hip toward his cock, physically telling him to knock it off and shove it in you.

He locks eyes with you then, seeing your desperate and longing expression. You chewed down on your lips, seeing how the man's eyes had darken since last you laid upon them. He just smirked, looking down between your legs before pushing himself in.

It hurt but not as much as his fingers. The aftermath of those three invaders acted as a testament to how well you could still take the man in strides. For what it was worth, they did make it easier for him to slide into you.

He slipped in and out easily, smooth like butter. His thrust started methodically, getting familiar with your hole's interior again. He groaned, his cock pulsating against the edges, trying to find your sweet spot.

He wasn't able too, it wasn't that easy. You had laid there making hush moans that could only be audible for anyone within the room. It was striking and incredibly hot to Joel hearing you try to conceal your voice. It came off is if you were going to burst, like you were going to scream out his name, that was something else entirely.

Thinking about it gave him a surge, a rush that rapidly increases his pace. His hips smacking up against your ass, created a sound that vibrated your body. Each smack, was music to the man's ears, meld together now with your rising grunts. It probably was the best thing he'd ever heard.

You were losing it on the other hand. Your body trembled, your eyes became hazy, your mind completely in shambles; a mess best described it all. So much so that you had no idea what was even happening, questioning what was even real.

Were you becoming stupid with each thrust or did you completely lose your mind to him. His strides were beginning to make you see stars, more pleasing than the ones you'd see in the sky. A sudden overwhelming feeling rushes from your stomach all the way to your head, the strongest sensation you've felt all day. It made you feel light, like you had been consumed by the clouds.

This strange halt in your mind lasted for a minute before coming back from being on autopilot. You were semi-confused as your body was on a softer surface now. Your body lays flat, Joel's entire weight on top of you. Your senses were coming back to you.

The dresser was no longer your resting place but rather it was now the bed. Joel had lifted you up moments ago, still inside you, and crashed you both onto the mattress. Surprisingly that didn't snap you out of it, but what was even more confusing was the wetness near your stomach, just in between your stomach and Joel's. It was quite sticky. Wait, you stopped your mind from racing, ignoring Joel's rough groans in your ears for a second. You already came, you totally did. Your cock didn't feel restrained nor was it in any desire need to let loose any longer.

Shit, you thought, not realizing the man had satisfied you. You got lost in thought due to him hitting your sweet spot, it explained why your mind went into a frenzy. The feeling sent you over the edge again, jolting you back to reality this time; he hit it again.

You cry out as a response.

"Fuck, I'm gonna blow, I'm gonna fucking blow". Joel groaned.

You couldn't speak a word, it was too much, too much to bear. You dug your nails into the back of his shirt and pulled him closer with your legs around his waist. Your strength was dwindling, and you didn't have the voice to tell him to finish. If he kept it up any longer you were surely gonna cum again.

Joel's voice was deafening against your ears, his rhythm completely erratic and harsh against your hole. He went all out, posting himself up onto his elbows and thrusting into you like it was his last. He could feel the sharpness on his back, a deep sting from you nails pushing further into his skin. He watched as tears rolled down your face, wanting nothing but to wipe them away. He was right there, he could feel it rising up.

A few more rough thrusts did the trick. Joel grunted, holding his breath for a second as his cock convulsed before blowing. It came out fast, faster than he expected, squirting strings of cum in succession against your interior. He squinted his eyes, as he came quickly back down to your neck.

Joel's cock had settled, just as the two of you were. Exhausted beyond belief, you felt weak, one of your slipping off the man's back. You both relish in each other's touch, your breaths becoming steady at last.

The man's body shifts, causing you discomfort from still being inside of you. He reaches down to pull out, a quiet groan breaking free from your sealed lips. He used his other hand to cup and rub your cheek, his way of showing his gentleness after the affair. The man's cum oozed out, running down onto the mattress. You could feel how wet and loose it had become. Compared to the last time Joel had fucked you, you weren't as messy as you were now.

He then looked over to the side, seeing the towel you had used from earlier. He grabs it and wipes away the stains on your stomach.

You let out a sigh followed by locking eyes with Joel. They looked a lot more calmer, vibrant even just by his soothing demeanor.

As he finished wiping you clean the corner of his lips rose, "We should go eat."

Just like that, he had nothing left to say, acting as if nothing just happened. You scoffed at how quick the man could go from wanting to devour you to being a sensual man who wanted to give you the world. You weren't ready to rise from your position, not yet. You yank the towel out of his grasp before pulling him back down onto you.

Dinner can wait, just a bit longer.

[lizzychanstuffss]

Hi! So a lovely fic idea i have, whats kinda angst in a way/comfort. Not ascended Astarion x redeemed durge Tav(gn). Its been few years since the event of the game, but Tav still has the haunting feeling of the Urge still lingering in their mind. And they sometimes have nightmares of Bhaal returning and the crimes she did. So how would Astarion comfort or console them?

Have a lovely day/evening❤️

oooo you know exactly how to appeal to me, I've had an idea like this many times and most likely would have written a fic about it anyway so enjoy! Also personally just due to how the game works I fully believe that the urges still do thunk about in Durge's head just cause of the weirdness of their blood.

spawn!Astarion x redeemed durge!Tav GN

Requests still open!

2 years....it had been just a little over 2 years since you defended the city from destruction. Since you had rid yourself of the urges, or so you thought. Sometimes you still hear them in the back of your mind. Admittedly much quieter and not nearly as hard to shake off as they were before. But tonight was different, you had stumbled across a particularly bloody mugging on your way back from visiting Shadowheart, alone.

Something inside you rose from the back of your mind. The urge, your head spun and bile seeped into your throat. Suddenly you were that afraid little adventurer from two years who was just trying their best to resist. Who almost killed their lover, who felt ever so guilty at relishing at the blood that spilled from your enemies.

Holding your head in your hands you stumbled to the nearby wall and fell to your knees. Someone noticed you, it was an orphan or what you assumed to be one. She came over placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Are you okay, sear?" the child asked with concern in her eyes.

You couldn't help but just nod too weak to even speak, the child was kind enough to help you up. You had to strain against your mind not to take out your hidden dagger and stab the youngling to death.

she has no parents, she would not be missed. It would be the perfect kill and she's just so innocent.

The voice beckoned you, but you resisted. It was nothing if not painful anytime you resisted the urge, the hunger for murder back in full force. Once you were to your feet you waved at the child as she walked away trying your best to hold it together until she was out of earshot...then you threw up. Coughing and wheezing, it was awful, just like you remembered it to be.

You continued your walk home, stumbling along the way. You were sure this was going to worry Astarion. He had been in the underdark most of the day, normally you would have joined him but Shadowheart extended the invitation last minute and neither of you wanted to turn her down but also one of you needed to check on the spawns. So Astarion took up the task, but you had expected to be home sooner than this. Hoping he wouldn't get worried and just think you and the cleric lost track of time chatting.

-

After much stumbling and swearing you finally made it to your shared house you had gotten a few months after things started to settle down. You almost collapsed on the steps up to the door but kept it together until you got inside. Astarion heard the door open and came to greet you.

“Did you have a fun night wi-“ His words cut off as he took in your current state rushing to your side hooking your arm over his shoulder. “What happened, love?” The concern in his voice was sweet and would normally be enough to soothe any worries, but right now you were trying not to think about stabbing him to death.

“Th-The Urges…hurry…tie up” You choked out the words and Astarion went into action. You tried your best to stay awake long enough for him to find some ropes to bind you with, and knowing how this goes he had enough foresight to also gag you.

“It’s okay darling, you can let go now” He assured you and then blackness finally took your vision as your body was hoisted from your control

-

When you woke you were not of your own mind. You felt it before you heard it but there was a rumble of a muffled growl that came from your body. You managed to see Astarion through the blur of bloodlust as your body thrashed about on your shared bed.

He sighed as he watched your body move not of your own will. A gentle and cool hand moved hair from your face only to place itself on your cheek stroking gently. He knew you were in there watching as you had told him as much.

You could barely resist doing anything no matter what you tried. After 2 years any methods you developed to resist were slipping your mind in this moment, not like anyone could really blame you. For the most part Astarion had it under control. His soothing gesture continued, his face though, it wasn't full of concern even though the emotion was most certainly there...but the expression was merely sadness.

The monster inside your head was back and Astarion was sad, for you and in some way you could tell he felt disappointed in himself for not keeping it at bay. You realize you hadn't really informed him of how the urges had been manifesting but you honestly thought they would remain the docile little subconscious things that sometimes popped up when looking at a dead animal or a very rare piece of meat. You really thought nothing of them most of the time and they passed fast enough on their own....so why was this happening now?

This whole time you had been in your head trying your best. Astarion simply had been comforting you, stroking your hair as best he could and cooing sweet nothings to you. He knew you could hear them even if your body disagreed with his sweetness. You did begin to wonder how long this would last, would it be as bad as before or would it pass within the hour.

--

Within the hour it was, which you were quite thankful for. As you were coming out of it you were on your back staring up at the ceiling, Astarion lying beside you.

"Ah there you are my precious little bhaalbabe." He joked it was enough to coax a giggle out of you as he removed the gag.

"The gag was a nice touch, did you want to touch my face that badly?" Looking over at him to stare into his eyes, also so he could hopefully untie you. Which your vampire lover does oh so graciously.

"Maybe I did?~" He was being strangely lighthearted about the entire ordeal...but honestly you were exhausted and it was nice to not think about it too hard.

"Should we talk about it?" You asked.

"We can talk about it now....or we can do it tomorrow?" He offered the options either way it would need to be discussed, but not now all you wanted to do was have him cuddle you and sleep for several hours.

"Tomorrow, please...I don't have the energy for it right now..." The words left you and then without a second more of ideal conversation almost as if he read your mind, he wrapped his arms around pulling you into his chest. His hand idly playing with your hair and his lips pressing themselves on to your head in a kiss but more so, so he could take in your scent.

He wouldn't admit it unless asked but you knew he was scared, you were too but for now, he didn't say a thing and just held you. Held you until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer letting your body slip into sleep finally relaxing.

[doomspiral]

ur asks r finally open i wanted to say this for forever but i love whenever a historical gil post comes out and u and a bunch of other gil fans just all flock together and discuss his character and how history plays into it. you are all so passionate about him and its super fun to see!! i was never rlly into historical hetalia until i followed u because u just do it so good

I AM SO GLAD TO READ THIS!!!!

For the most part I've noticed the current Pru fans want to get along even if we don't agree on things, which means we can launch shit back and forth under different lenses. I really do love the varied takes just for this one guy, because so much of it is based in easily accessible, amateur research. That does make us all each other's peers for review though since we all have the same list of books on our shelves LMAO.

We have brainworms for real and every time I think I've settled on a read of the text, I'll see something else and go "ah damn, maybe that's it" and the cycle begins anew.

I know the Historical Hetalia fandom got a track record for getting stuck in the weeds, writing what I've been told is called "wiki fic", and in general being very hostile to each other and other types of fans, and I know this because I got to see the tail end of it and also read some of these fics. A lot of the takes were also deeply flawed, as they tended to erase non-white, queer, non-christian, and non-European histories within the context of Europe as well as simply whitewash the reality of those people into the bland, Hollywood Victorian ideals of etiquette.

What I've seen NOW is a bunch of insane history nerds trying to be as weird as possible while being grounded enough in historical research that nothing breaks immersion for the reader (some kind of mix between Master&Commander and The Great).

[mamawasatesttube]

So I've had this hc bouncing around my head since I read one of your fics (which are all amazing btw, seriously, so so good) about Kryptonian naming conventions. I really like your Kryptonians and their funky fish genders, because you are right. They are aliens, let's get creative with it. 

So the traditional naming conventions, at least in the comics, are First name Last name for men and First name Fathers Name Last name for women. With womens names usually ending in -a. Such as Kal El and Kara Zor-El. 

However, Cir El exists.

And she doesn't follow this trend. Now, she doesn't appear very much or for very long. (Which is a shame because there is so much potential. Also full disclosure I have not yet read the issues she is in yet. They are on the list because the whole idea of her intrigues me. However the list is long. Very long. So if this is absolute garbage please disregard this entire thing and I am very sorry.) Now her name could just be a mistake on DCs part. She wasn't born on Krypton or raised by Kryptonians, so the naming could mean nothing. But it got me thinking.

So this is kinda a mix between traditional Scottish naming (your dad's name with Mac in front to mean child) and Icelandic naming, with your dad's name and either son or dottir added on. However in Iceland you could have your mum's name instead. 

So since Kryptonian views of gender and sex wouldn't line up 100% with human ideas (not that human ideas of this are uniform across the globe but I digress) and are implied to be far more gender neutral there could be a whole naming system. So you could have:

Kal El

Kal Jor-El

Kal Lara-El

Kala Jor-El

Kala Lara-El

Each one of those options is basically a different gender identity. Basically once you're an adult you would pick your name. And there are more choices and it would be pretty fluid. And your name would tell people how to address you. 

Does this mean Cir El has a traditional 'masculine' name? Yup. Am I reading way too much into a decision DC probably didn't think through this much? Also yup. 

I don't know, this is probably absolute garbage but it's been banging around my head for literal months. Want some weird alien naming conventions???

OH YES i love it!!!! ive thought about ways to fiddle with the canon gendered kryptonian naming scheme too but never settled on anything concrete - this is a great take on it!!! very fun. kryptonian naming has always reminded me of tamil naming traditions (the husband's first name becomes the wife's and their children's surname, so almost like kara having her father's name as her surname), and i like keeping that with the parents names as an option but not the only option for women.

(spoilers for her arc, but cir-el is not actually a real kryptonian and is instead a girl who was experimented on and made to think she was, so in-universe it's incredibly possible that the futuresmiths fucked up, but i mean they're linked to brainiac who probably wouldn't fuck something like that up, so... i think we deserve to take this and run with it!!! out-of-universe im sure its just "dc didn't think about it that hard" but. the world is our oyster.)

but now it has me thinking about a moment of kon, pondering gender, wondering if he'd like to go by another form of the name at any point but then getting stuck on like. um... would it be kon kal-el?? kon jor-el??? kon lara-el???? am i even allowed to use kal's parents names??? but i don't have a mom and it's not like kal's my dad so??? what do i do??? and kara goes fuck it. radical family acceptance time. you can just be a zor-el like me <3

[lily-alphonse]

thoughts on haley x abigail?? 💛💜

Haligaillllll I have to plug maxRebo again with Things We Dont Say on AO3 it's the sequel to a fantastic SebAlex fic I loved.

We love Haligail, who wouldn't love Haligail? This is one of the least rare ones I've done so far according to AO3 . I haven't looked each one up I've done, but I was curious since punk/prep seem like they'd be popular.

Anyways how would I handle this? Spoiler alert Ive gotta make it rivals to lovers OBVIOUSLY it's just too good to pass up.

Let’s say they went to high school together and ran in different circles (obviously). Abigail looked down on Haley for being a preppy dumb blonde prioritizing boys over school.

Haley for her part was learning very quickly that girls couldn’t be trusted, with all of the shit they talked behind her back. So she definitely wasn't going to think fondly of a sullen girl like Abby, who would just glare at her for no reason.

But its years later now. Abby has returned home from college to attend remotely. She’s grown confident and developed a sense of style. It’s still dark and moody and she loves a skull motif, but she clearly takes more care in her appearance than in high school. Oh… and she’s a proud lesbian now.

She’s annoyed to be back in this bumfuck town but her dad threatened to cut her funding if she didn’t come back to help with the shop at least one semester. Haley comes into the shop and its tense. Abby hates feeling subservient to her like this, wearing the stupid fucking apron dad insists she wears while she’s helping out. It puts her in a weird headspace like she’s in high school again.

It’s nice to be back with her boys though, the regular gig practices fun. They even decide to throw a little party to perform at. It’s exhilarating and she’s in her element until she sees Haley. It’s like, somehow, the old Abby exists in Haley and she fucking hates it. She wants to purge Haley’s memories of that weird quiet girl in high school. She wants Haley to understand she is more confident than the queen bee ever was at her peak.

Everyone settles in on the floor for a drinking game and SHE is there of course, looking stupidly hot and just… generally stupid. “Who invited you?” Abby snaps as Haley sits down near her.

“Hello, Abigail,” she sips her drink innocently, “that’s how normal people start conversations anyway.”

Abby scoffs, fighting the fluster with anger. “Yeah, avoid the question that’s fine.”

Sebastian settles between them, attempting to block the electric tension between them with his body. Great deal of good that does though, since one of the very first dares sees Alex daring Haley and Abby to Seven Minutes in Heaven.

“What the fuck, Alex?!” Haley hisses. She seems embarrassed. Abby likes seeing her flustered for once.

“Aw she’s afraid to touch the lesbian! She might catch it,” Abby teases.

Haley glares at her with a fire behind her blue eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Alright,” Abby smiles, “Prove it.”

And so they get sloppy in the closet and it’s hot and awesome and the seven minutes runs out too fast. Abby decides she craves this power over Haley and chases it. Being glared at with lust in her eyes is better than being looked down on.

They have a back and forth of sneaking around, while Haley comes to terms with her sexuality and they grow closer. It’s always just hatefucking until its not, because Abby discovers how actually self-conscious and lonely Haley is. And how this toxic fling is the closest thing she has to love. She’s clinging to it like a liferaft but it’s just making her sink even further. Abby recognizes the damage she’s caused and decides to cut things off.

Something brings them back together though, obv. Hmmm.

Maybe Alex ends up cornering her and telling Abby just how much she means to Haley and how maybe instead of abandoning her like everyone else, she could just be an actual partner to her and treat her like she knows she should be treated.

Which all culminates in a very sweet scene of Abby coming back to Haley and apologizing. And I want it to tie back into the party like

“I also want to apologize,” Abby says, wiping her eyes, “for leaving you hanging a few months ago. When you said hi.”

“Abby…”

“Can we go back to that? Can we roll it back? I want to say hi, it’s nice to see you.”

Haley laughs through her tears. “It's nice to see you too.” She takes Abby’s hand and squeezes.

Oh and Abby would prbly take to calling Haley Blondie or something. Starts out as kind of an insult and then just a term of endearment. Anyways,

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[chronically-ghosted]

So, it's October -- crazy, right? About three months ago, I got waaay too emotionally invested in Din Djarin and baby Grogu and the Razor Crest and, well, here we are. This blog served as a way to unleash the infectious brainrot of Pedro back into the ecosystem, hopefully finding another victim. What I got back, is community. I've been in fandom for over ten years and I can honestly say I've never seen a fandom that is so kind, so supportive, so eager to share and talk and engage with others.

So, in the three months since this blog was created, you lovely people continue to show up and everyday I am gobsmacked at the growth and support. I genuinely don't know how I would have survived these last few months had I not met some of you, so as the (shoddily made) gif says: thank you.

I've just now wrapped up my 100 Followers Event Challenge (y'all sent me so many fantastic prompts I had SO much fun!). If you're interested, they're on my masterlist or you can find them all here on this post. I'm taking an itty bitty break from writing for just a bit (might be getting a new job too) but when i come back, i can't wait to share what comes next for all our pedro blorbos!)

Now that I'm a bit more settled and have had the chance to meet some of these fantastic creators, I'd love to share them out with you:

My Favorite Places to Make PPCU Friends (Discord Servers):

Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe (I got invited by @jupiter-soups)

Space Sisters - give @psychedelic-ink a shout if you'd like to join!

My Favorite Compilations for Fics:

Favourite Fanfic Stories (managed by @morallyinept)

Sanctuary Database (managed by @pascalsanctuary)

Spreadsheet Digest (managed by @wannab-urs)

(these folks are also some of the nicest people you'll ever meet so please do yourself a favor and go follow them)

My Favorite Creators:

@perotovar is a next level gifmaker

@trulybetty has some of the best designs i've ever seen

@daddy-dins-girl has some of the best pedro character alignment charts -- it makes me laugh every time!

@iamdesibell has my entire heart and soul with all her fanart

@saradika keeps us fed with gorgeous moodboards and dividers

Fandom lives and dies by its community so please reblog, tag, or comment if you like a piece of fanart, fanfic, or anything else someone has created that vibes with you! If you'd like to rec something or someone, please let me know -- as you can see, i love holding up other writers and creators and i always wanna hear about your fave!

My ask box is always open for requests, questions, comments, or if you wanna just bitch about how your stupid old car failed you again, I wanna hear about that too 🤍thank you all for accepting me and my silly little stories!

[scarletsaphire]

Danny, newly added to the cheer team (mostly) against his will, is attending his first lock in with the girls. It's a lot more fun than he expected.

--

4th fic for @phicphight, with this one going to @lavendarlily and @lonelygrayrose, with a special shout out to @hannahmanderr because she asked politely. Prompts used will be at the end!

Danny had accepted that he didn't get much control over his life. Ever since he'd died, he was getting pulled one way or another for ghost fights or school or family stuff. It really came to its worst point went he'd been more or less bullied into joining the cheer team. Sam and Tucker were not help; they thought it was hilarious.

It did mean that the already minuscule amount of free time he had was filled with practice, or games, or other team building exercises. Like right now; the annual lock in for the cheer team, hosted in Casper High one and only cafeteria. Really pulling out all the stops.

Danny had been dreading it since it was announced two weeks ago; knowing his luck, there would be some kind of ghost attack, and then he'd have to play the whole "Oh I've been here the whole time!" game. And if that didn't happen, he'd be stuck in the cafeteria with the cheer leader girls for twelve hours straight! Sure, they were nice enough, especially since he joined the team, but that didn't mean they were friends!

It had only taken an hour for Danny to change his opinion.

The parent chaperone very clearly did not care about what they got up to, provided no one broke a bone or stole something where she could see. This allowed them to roll all of the tables off the walls of the cafeteria and construct a complicated and completely unsafe obstacle course for them to run through.

The first two girls had already given it their best shot; the first one, Abigail, who Danny had never seen without bows in her hair, had made it pretty far for being the first one through, but her hair had gotten tangled in one of the wheels, and the official score keeper (who was, of course, Paulina) gave her a DNF. She was currently off to the side with Star, getting her tied back into a braid and watching the spectacle.

The second girl, Brittany, had finished, if her time was a bit sad. "I don't want a repeat of that!" she'd said while the rest of  them teased her about her terrible performance. "I just got these braids put in on Monday, and I am not spending another four hours to get them redone!"

They were going in alphabetical order, so that meant Danny was next up. He lifted his arms above his head to stretch while he analyzed the course.

They'd done a pretty good job, if he did say so himself. There were several tables that he would need to go under, several he'd need to jump, and one they'd set up to require jumping on the seats instead of on the table. A bit rudimentary, sure, but it worked for their purposes.

"So, Danny Fenton," Paulina said, holding her water bottle out towards him like a microphone. "As the only boy on the team, you have quite the reputation to try and uphold. Do you have a strategy going into this?"

Danny flashed her a grin he normally saved for when he was Phantom. "Course I do."

Paulina returned the smile, and leaned in closer. "And what would that be?"

"And spoil the surprise? Not a chance."

Paulina laughed, leaning back on her seat of backpacks, blankets, and pillows. "You're setting high expectations, Fenton. You ready?"

Danny nodded, settling into a running stance.

"Three, two, one, go!"

He started running to the cheers of his teammates.He hadn't lied; he did have a strategy, and it didn't involve any kind of ghost powers. He wouldn't need them.

Danny had spent the better part of two years dodging bullets, ray beams, fire, boomerangs, bazookas, and about a dozen other, faster, much more painful objects. Two years honing reaction speed, flexibility, and spatial awareness, all of which would help him decimate the past two times, and anyone else who wanted to race after him.

Okay, maybe the practice part did involve ghost powers, but he wouldn't be using any now.

He vaulted over the first table cleanly, chaining the momentum to roll underneath the next table in one fluid motion. He came to his feet already running, ready to vault over the next two tables. In what felt like a heartbeat, he was already at the end obstacle, where he'd have to hop back and forth on the seats without touching the table; if he touched it, that would mean an immediate disqualification.

It didn't prove to be any more difficult than any other obstacle had been, although it was significantly slower. Danny leapt off of the final seat straight into a backflip, landing perfectly on his feet.

That part wasn't required; he just felt like flexing a little.

His grand finish was met with the roaring applause of the eight girls; Abigail had even started whistling, much to Star's annoyance, as she was still trying to fix her hair.

"And that is two minutes and twenty seven seconds!" Paulina called from her makeshift chair.

"Damn!" Alysha said. "That is going to be a tough time to beat!"

"Thank you, thank you," Danny said, taking an exaggerated bow. "I'll be here all night."

Alysha shoved his shoulder even while she laughed.

Danny made his way back to the spot he'd claimed, a little bit to the side of Paulina's seat.

"I am so happy we recruited you," she said as he sat down.

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "I am too."

As surprising as it was, it was true. Maybe he'd originally gotten the spot because of his ghost fighting and powers, but it had quickly become the only (mostly) ghost free thing he had. He'd never gotten that kind of luxury at home, and while he loved Sam and Tucker to death, it was way to easy for their hangouts to become patrols or planning patrols. Or homework, but that didn't count.

There was the additional fact that being on the cheer team had made Danny's life easier at school; the teacher's were more lenient with schoolwork, he had a different group of people he could sit with if Sam and Tucker were out sick, or if they got absorbed in their infamous debates, and everyone was just so much nicer to him.

Even Dash had stopped with the bullying, and after a couple stilted conversations and an emotionally charged apology that was leagues beyond what he'd thought Dash capable of, Danny would be willing to call them friends.

Definitely just friends though. It didn't matter that Tucker had caught him staring at Dash several times during lunch or that he got all flustered whenever they ended up in the locker room together. That was a coincidence. 

Just like Danny had expected, none of the girls came even close to his time. Star got a strong second place at three minutes flat, which was very impressive on its own, but his natural talent and years of practice held him high above the rest.

"You have to tell us how you did that," Aubrey said, jutting out her bottom lip. It was the same look she gave Coach Tetslaff every time she tried to extend practice.

Unfortunately for her, it worked just as well on Danny as it did on Coach. "Yeah, sure. Right after I tell you how I handle flying so well."

"Ugh." Aubrey flopped forward into a heap on the table. "You are. So mean."

The sound of a cellphone ringing cut off whatever Danny was going to say next. The team glanced back at the chaperone, who had settled in a corner of the room with a laptop, a thermos Danny swore was full of hard liquor, and headphones. They all sat in silence as she answered the phone.

"Hello? Uhuh. Yeah, I'll be right up. Everything should already be paid for, right? Good." She hung up the phone with a snap and stood from her spot. "Pizza's here. You kids sit tight, I'll be right back."

The group stayed quiet until her footsteps disappeared down the hallway outside of the door, before everyone shared a conspiratory look. Everyone but Danny, that is.

"Uh... what did I miss?" Danny asked.

Aubrey and Abigail stood up, one moving to the window of the door, the other to the chaperone's bag. The other girls all shared the same look again. 

"Did nobody tell you?" Dakota asked.

Danny ran over the incredibly short list of things he'd been told about the lock in, which was basically just that it was a lock in, before shaking his head. "Tell me what?"

"Oh, Ms. Pachelli is a total drunk," Paulina said. "I'm sure you've noticed its not apple juice in her thermos?"

Danny nodded his head.

"Well, that's not enough to last her a whole night, even on a good day, and dealing with us is never a good day in her books." Paulina studied her fingernails while Abigail fished a bottle of whiskey out of her backpack. "So, every year we switch out her spare bottle for one of Abby's parents' old empty ones."

Sure enough, Abigail pulled out an identical bottle from Ms. Pachelli's bag.

"And... you don't get in trouble for that?"

The rest of team all giggled. "Please," Star said dismissively. "She barely cares about us to begin with, and if she tries to get us in trouble, she'd have to admit she has a problem."

"She's coming," Aubrey hissed from the door, and Abigail made a dash back to her backpack. By the time Ms. Pachelli was back in the room, three steaming pizza pies in hand, the whole team was doing a perfect imitation of teenagers who weren't up to anything.

"It'll be over here when you girls are hungry," she said, setting them down where food was normally served. "Uh. You girls and Danny." She amended when she turned around to see them all pointing at him, a habit they'd developed with Coach Tetslaff. Ms. Pachelli settled back down in her corner, taking one, long swig from her thermos, and putting her headphones back on.

The rest of the team

"She'll fall asleep soon," Dakota whispered to Danny. "That's when the real party starts."

Sure enough, it had barely passed 1 AM before Ms. Pachelli had dozed off and the team was left completely unsupervised. Brittany went to make sure she was sleep, and after fiddling with the headphones, she shot a thumbs up at the group. Abigail pulled the bottle back out to the cheers of the team.

"It's time for the real party to get started!" Dakota called.

"Don't we need to stay quiet?" Danny asked.

Star shook her head. "Nah, she's got some video playing in the background. I don't even think a ghost attack would be loud enough to wake her."

"I think its flat earth videos this time," Brittany added. "Definitely looked like it from what I saw, at least."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Why is she even here? If she sucks and also hates all of you-" he ignored whoever called out "She hates you too!" "-why does she volunteer to do it?"

"We ask for her by name," Abigail said, passing the now opened bottle to Paulina.

Paulina took a swig straight from the container before passing it on to Brittany. "That, and if she didn't volunteer for this, she'd have to actually do something at any of the other events the school hosts. She's part of the PTA." 

"Ok, but that doesn't explain why she has to be on the PTA," Danny pointed out.

"Uh, duh, she's Derreck's mom. You can't have a kid in as many extracurriculars as he's in and not be on the PTA," Star said.

"I guess," Danny agreed. He still didn't really understand, but he also didn't want to spend the whole night asking about Ms. Pachelli's life. Besides, the bottle had reached him. He took a small sip from the bottle, and pulled a face at the unexpected burn.

The girls laughed.

"First time tasting alcohol?" Audrey teased, taking the bottle from his hands.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not the first time. I just. Didn't expect it to taste like that."

The girls all shared a look before laughing harder.

"It is going to be a fun night," Paulina said, a mischievous smile on her face.

--

Danny wasn't sure what time it was anymore. He knew that a couple of the girls had conked out, with Aubrey being the first to fall about an hour ago. He knew that he wasn't getting any sleep tonight, and from the looks of it, neither was Dakota, who was blasting music from her phone and dancing on one of the tables. She'd been the one to hog most of the bottle.

Not that Danny was complaining; he was definitely not sober, although he couldn't say whether he was tipsy or drunk or somewhere in between or another word he wasn't privy to. Either way, he was drunk enough that he'd agreed to let Paulina and Star do his makeup, something he would never have agreed to without the help of the whiskey.

"Stop moving," Star said, holding him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes, as if she could psychically control him into not moving. Jokes on her, Danny knew how mind control worked, and it was only sometimes like that. "Or else we're gonna-" she hiccoughed, then continued as if nothing had happened, "-mess up your makeup."

"Yeah," Paulina said. "And you don't want to look like a mess for Dash, do you?"

Danny snapped his head towards her, nearly poking his own eye out with the makeup applicator she was using.

"Stooop!" Star said, turning his head back towards her.

Danny obeyed, but he turned his eyes to look at Paulina. "Why would I care about what Dash thinks?"

He could just barely make out her flat stare from the corner of his vision. "Because you like him?"

"I do not!" Danny protested.

Star giggled while Paulina talked over her. "Danny, we have eyes, you know. And we've seen yours wandering to him every time he's anywhere near you."

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Star pushed it shut. "Nuh uh. Lipstick first." He tried again, but was met with the same result. "I will smear this all over your teeth do not test me Fenton." This time, Danny obeyed.

 By the time he had finished, his initial protests had already died out. It wasn't like they were wrong; he just hadn't realized he'd been so obvious about it. "Fine. I might have a little crush."

"Well if by "little crush" you mean that you're head over heels in love with my best friend, then yeah, I know you have a little crush on him."

"Hey!" Star cried. "I thought I was your best friend?"

"Best boy friend," Paulina corrected. "But not boyfriend boyfriend. We tried dating, but he's not interested in me. Which, you know, I was insulted with originally, but he's just not into any girls, so the fact that he was into me enough to try dating is a win."

"So, he likes-"

"Boys, yeah."

"Which means you have a chance," Paulina added. "But only if you sit still and let us make you look pretty!"

Danny really didn't think he had been moving around all that much, but he made sure to sit even stiller now.

"You're gonna need to be the one who asks him out."

Star nodded. "He's worried about doing something wrong, cause he was so mean to you before." Star paused at Paulina's glare. "Oh. Was that a part I wasn't supposed to share?"

"Yes," Paulina said, annoyed. "But it's too late now."

"Wait, hold on, what?"

"Oh, he likes you too," Paulina said. "It's gotten kind of annoying, listening to him go on and on about how 'cool' you look doing flips and everything."

Danny felt his face heating up more. "I mean. I just. I don't really know how to ask someone out?"

"Oh trust me, I know," Paulina laughed. "Don't think I've forgotten all the shit you pulled during freshman year."

Danny's face burned even hotter.

"Polly, you're embarrassing him!" Star said, but she couldn't stop a giggle of her own. "We're supposed to be helping!"

"I know, I know, but I can't help it!" Paulina said, her laughter dying out.

"You two planned this?" Danny asked incredulously.

"I mean, we didn't not plan it?" Star replied.

"No, we planned it," Paulina corrected. "I think Abigail even put it on her itinerary, but she fell asleep, like a loser."

Star giggled again. "So we're taking over!"

"You've got to be more confident, flaco. You get all blushy and stutter, and give up halfway through, and while that's adorable, it's not going to work if you want results."

"We've seen you on the field, we know you can do it, so don't try to deny it," Star added.

"But that's an entirely different thing!"

"It's not that different," Paulina said.

 Star ignored her. "Then just pretend you're on the field! Put on a good show for him, and I guarantee he'll be drooling all over you. Just like he is during the games."

"He is not drooling about me during the games."

"Oh, he so is," Star countered. "You remember the game you first debuted?"

Danny nodded; while he'd done fine, the actual game had been a bit of a shit show. Casper High had lost, fourteen to nothing.

"Dash only fumbled that because he was so distracted by you," Paulina said. "Tripped right over his own feet, cost us the first points of the game, and it was all down hill from there. If you can do that when you aren't even trying, imagine what you can do to him when you are."

"I think we're done here," Star said, withdrawing from Danny.

"I think we've outdone ourselves," Paulina said, angling his face to admire their work. She grabbed a small mirror from her pocket and passed it over to him. "What do you think?"

He looked surprisingly good, much better than he expected considering the fact he was a boy and that the people doing his makeup were at least a little drunk.

"It looks good," Danny agreed.

"No," Star protested. "You look good, and you need to take that vibe with you when you ask Dash out tomorrow."

"Who said anything about tomorrow?"

"We did," Paulina said. "Because tomorrow, we're going to be dragging him with us to the park and finding a convenient excuse to leave him there alone."

"You're gonna swoop in, and you're gonna ask him out and save him from having to deal with us all day."

"Trust us. It'll be perfect."

"I don't-"

"Shh." Star put her finger over Danny's lips. "We're doing this, whether you show up or not."

"Which means we need our rest, and you need your beauty sleep."

"So shoo while we clean up."

Danny didn't really know what else to do besides walk back to his pile of stuff and get comfortable.

He guessed he was going to the park sometime tomorrow. He hadn't been planning on it, but that was ok. He was used to that.

--

Prompts:

LonelyGrayRose - "Well if by "little crush" you mean that you're head over heels in love with our best friend, then yeah, I know you have a little crush on [him/her]" lavendarlily - Who knew Danny Fenton was so agile? Paulina makes it her personal mission to get him on the cheer squad.

[kultofkorii]

Hi !!! iIs it possible to have Usopp (top) x male reader (bottom).Smut. They have been a couple for a long time. The half-human, half-tiger reader (he has the body of a human but a tiger's tail, ears, eyes and stripes). For the storyline, during the whole day, the reader has fun teasing Usopp, but when they chose to keep the boat Usopp decides to make him regret all this teasing. There can be a lot of praise and teasing from Usopp's part

− Such a Tease~

✎usopp x tiger! reader

♦︎fic type: smut

♦︎summary: after you teasing usopp all day, he finally decided to do something about it.

♦︎word count: 2.4k

♦︎warnings: praise kink, male! reader, soft dom! usopp, anal, oral [reader receiving]

♦︎ a/n: omgg thank you so much for the ask, and i hope you enjoy what i wrote! I apologize for the delay I've been busy with moving.

The sun hangs high in the clear blue sky, casting a warm, golden light over the Going Merry as it bobs gently in the turquoise waters of the island's harbor. The crew of the Straw Hat Pirates has disembarked to explore the lush landscape, leaving you and Usopp behind on the ship for a well-deserved break from your adventurous lives.

You were lounging casually on the deck, your eyes tracking the movements of the crew as they make their way towards the island. You flex your fingers, relishing in the sensation of the warm sun against your skin, and a mischievous grin spreads across your face.

Today, you have a singular goal: to make Usopp as riled up as possible. You’ve long enjoyed your playful interactions with him, but today, you want to turn the teasing up a notch and push him to his breaking point. As you stretch out languidly on the deck, your thoughts dance with plans to fluster your partner.

Usopp had settled into a comfortable spot by the railing, fiddling with a small gadget he’s been working on. He seems absorbed in his work, unaware of your scheming. You stand up and saunter over to him, your movements fluid and deliberate. With a lazy stretch and a feline grace, you cast a sidelong glance at Usopp, who is engrossed in adjusting the gadget. Your eyes gleam with mischief as you approach.

"Hey, Usopp," you purr softly, your voice rich and smooth. "Need any help with that thing?"

Usopp glances up, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Not from you, tiger. I’ve got it under control."

You tilt your head, your grin widening. "Are you sure? I’d hate to see you struggle with something so trivial."

Before Usopp can respond, your form ripples and shifts into that of a tiger. The transformation is seamless, and in an instant, you’re a sleek, golden-striped feline. You stretch out in front of Usopp, curling your body around the gadget with a lazy purr. Usopp raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Really? Now you're just showing off."

Your tiger eyes gleam as you give Usopp a slow, deliberate lick of your paw. The gesture is more playful than anything else, but it clearly has its intended effect—Usopp’s cheeks flush a delicate pink. You purr softly, stretching out as if you own the entire ship. "Just making myself comfortable," you say with a feline smirk. "You don’t mind, do you?" Usopp tries to focus on his gadget, but it’s clear that your presence is becoming increasingly distracting. He shifts uncomfortably as your tail flicks against his legs, the tickling sensation almost unbearable.

After a moment of pretending to be engrossed in his work, Usopp gives in with a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine. If you’re going to be a distraction, I might as well give you something to do." With a dramatic sigh, Usopp places his gadget aside and reaches out to gently scratch behind your tiger ears. You close your eyes in bliss as you purr loudly, thoroughly enjoying the attention, before switching back to your human form.

But Usopp isn’t done. As he scratches behind your ears, his fingers occasionally brush against your sensitive spots, sending shivers down your spine. Your tail flicks erratically, betraying the fact that you’re trying very hard to maintain your composure. "Are you enjoying this, Y/n?" Usopp teases, his voice dripping with amusement. Your purring grows louder, and you roll onto your stomach, exposing your tail fully in a gesture of trust and playfulness. “You know me too well, Usopp.”

Seeing your vulnerable position, Usopp’s smirk widens. “Oh, I see. So you want me to keep going, huh?” Your tiger eyes glint with a mix of desire and mischief. “Only if you want to.”Usopp’s fingers make contact with the base of your tail, sending you into a state of delightful squirming. You try to suppress your reactions, but the combination of gentle scratches and Usopp’s teasing comments proves too much. You wriggle and purr, letting him know just the effect he has on you. Finally, Usopp relents and stops his delightful touches, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “How about we take this up a notch, yeah?”

••••

Usopp's toned body loomed over you, panting heavily from your previous make out session. Usopp's gaze lingers on your own, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.

But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you. His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.

Usopp's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure. As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me."

His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath. But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect." "My perfect boy," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion. His hands make haste with your pants, loosening them just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises. He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It's rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.

Usopp was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more. He strokes you and you curl into him. It's as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.

Usopp positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you'd ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You've already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment. Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You undo his overalls, pulling them down along with his boxers and revel at the sight. He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "You look so cute like that." You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible. "I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours. Usopp kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.

His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager. "Usopp," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.

Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured. He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?" You nod with reckless abandon, practically begging him.

He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you. You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness.

The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.

He swirled his cock inside you hearing the gooey wet noises of your arousal and he bit his lips tightly before pushing himself inside. Somehow you felt tighter and even more amazing than he last remembered. You felt so soft, that there wasn’t a piece of your body that he wasn’t touching while dragging himself in and out of you. The slow pace didn’t last long as he needed more. This pace began to pick up, his cock dragging across your walls managing to hit every pleasurable spot. “You take it so well, you deserve it, Baby.”

With each word came a stronger and faster thrust making you subconsciously pull away from the feeling of him, but he noticed this and Usopp grabbed your hips with one hand and placed his other on your tummy and pushed down. "Don't run from me baby, you wanted this~" You felt numb in the brain. Your eyes were squinted seeing how hard Usopp was sweating and breathing over you. He looked so attractive, you felt your cock throb in his hand. Both of you filled the rooms with whines, moans, and groans on top of the wet slapping noises against each other. It wasn’t long until your felt your orgasm approaching so closely; "Usopp-fuck- I'm close~"

You felt his entire body weight on you with his hands grabbing yours above your head to keep himself steady and he pumped into you viciously and you clenched each time he came back inside you so easily due to how wet and stretched you were. His stomach dragged against your cock, add more friction to your sensitive tip. “It’s okay—I know baby it feels so good; Let go for me~"

He mouth was right by your ear as your face was buried in his bed moaning right along with him. You heard the bed creak so loudly and the floor boards get scratched up from the way the bed frame was moving under you both. You felt almost like if you didn’t scream from pleasure right now you’d probably die. "USOPP! IM-CUMMING!"

His eyes opened again now moving faster trying to reach the same high as you. Both of you were fucking like literal rabbits at this point. But you didn’t care because you were pretty much at fault for this. With a few more thrust you felt his load seeping feeling into your stretched out hole; your own release coating both your chests. You both finally slowed down as you both came together. He hugged you slowly still trying to ride out your combined orgasm. You both take a moment to catch your breath and come down from your high. Your sharp canines lightly dragging across his ear as you huff out, "Totally worth it." Usopp devolves into breathless laughter before lifting his self from your clutches, taking his warmth with him, but not before kissing your forehead when you whine in protest. "I sure hope it was, but we have to get cleaned up before the others get back." He picks you up bridal style and begins heading to the bathroom a content smile on his face as you nuzzle into his hold and wrap your tail around his leg, purring lightly.