#gorgeous false lashes
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BPerfect On Valentine's Day: Must-Haves To Make You Dazzle
The much-celebrated night of romance is just around the corner. Get inspired with our Valentine’s Day edit. The following beauty must-haves will make you a dazzling object of desire for a long time. Read on for makeup that creates a sensation.
Valentine’s Day Must-Haves
Credit: BPerfect
Ensure you spend Valentine’s Day focusing on love and romance instead of reapplying blah makeup and sticking…
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#beauty essentials#beauty must-haves#best makeup#best new makeup#gorgeous false lashes#influencer#Instagram#lifestyle#Love Island looks#luxury#luxury eye palette#makeup#makeup primer#new beauty products#review
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Angel: *dresses up in drag and looks fucking gorgeous*
Husk: babe wow you’re so pretty — *squints, noticing the irritation in his eyes from the false lashes* wtf? why are you wearing all that if it bothers you?!
- HOME, HRS LATER -
Angel: *wearing sweatpants and no make up, scratching stomach and yawning*
Husk: babe you’re so fucking pretty holy shit
#hazbin hotel humor#incorrect hazbin hotel quotes#hazbin angel dust#hazbin husk#huskerdust#angelhusk#Hazbin hotel#fanscript#crackscript#angel in drag#husk likes Angel natural
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“Na’vi don’t have long lashes!”
Neytiri:
She’s so gorgeous 😻
People put long lashes on their oc’s and that’s fine but don’t make them look false 😭 it just makes your oc look like she’s wearing an over exaggerated makeup filter on tiktok. Not cute btw..
#neytiri#avatar neytiri#atwow neytiri#avatar#atwow#james cameron avatar#avatar fandom#avatar the way of water#avatar 2009#avatar fanfiction#avatar pandora#na’vi avatar#na’vi oc#na’vi
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Inspired by this art by my wonderful friend @amethyst-crowns
This one is 18+ so heads up <3
Makeup is nothing new to Eddie Munson.
He's worn it before, of course, some eyeliner and mascara whenever the band played, just enough to make his brown doe eyes even bigger - and yeah, he likes the way it tends to run down his cheeks once he starts sweating under the lights, likes to think about it running for other reasons-
Bottom line, he’s not uncomfortable wearing makeup. So when Robin suggested otherwise after he’d made a crack about her doing up her makeup extra nice for her hang-out with Nancy tonight, of course he’d had to prove her wrong.
He hadn’t expected to end up here, on his knees in Steve’s bedroom with the younger man sending him to a higher plane of existence as he fucks into Eddie from behind.
Eddie’s hands are braced against Steve’s full-length mirror and his eyes are locked on his own face, on the false lashes Robin had meticulously applied, the blood red lipstick currently staining his lips. The eyeliner is running, just the way he’d imagined - he’d started crying almost the moment Steve had pushed into him, unforgiving but careful, and even after three fingers the stretch was so fucking delicious.
“Fuck, Eddie, so good for me, baby. So fucking gorgeous.”
“Shit, Steve-”
Every thrust sends more tears streaming down Eddie's face, his pleasure overflowing as Steve fucks him so good, gives him everything he’s ever dreamed of - literally. Steve seemed to enjoy the reaction, had initially licked a wet stripe up Eddie’s cheek and hummed like he was savoring the salt on his tongue, but he seems content now to just watch Eddie in the mirror, tracking every new tear with his eyes instead of his mouth.
“Aren’t you, sweetheart? Tell me that you’re gorgeous.”
“ ‘m gorgeous, Stevie, just for you.”
Steve groans and a large hand settles on the back of Eddie’s neck. “Not just for me, baby. Gorgeous for yourself too.” The hand pushes, deepens the arch in Eddie’s back as his face gets closer to the glass. “Go on, give yourself a kiss for me, angel.”
And Eddie is helpless to resist. He feels too good to be embarrassed as Steve drives into him, the rhythmic snap of his hips against Eddie’s ass so distracting and delicious, and he doesn’t even hesitate as he presses a sloppy kiss to the mirror, smearing his lipstick across the surface.
The glass fogs over slightly as his breath hits it, the physical evidence of his gasps and moans obscuring his view only slightly. The hand on his neck tightens when he sticks out his tongue and licks the glass like the narcissistic whore he is, the perfect image of depravity as Steve fucks into him.
“That’s it, baby, just like that.”
He hears Steve spit before a hand wraps around his dick, warm and wet, and he wants to look down and watch, wants to see as Steve strokes him in time with his thrusts. The grip on his neck stops him though, pushes him even closer so his cheek is pressed to the glass, smearing more of the red over his skin as his fingers scramble for purchase.
"Gonna- Steve, please-"
"Go on, angel. Let me see you come for me."
Eddie's eyes roll back as his climax hits and he shudders through it, knowing that he's only adding to the mess on the mirror. Steve thrusts in a few more times before he stills, filling Eddie with warmth, and the older releases a high whine at the feeling.
He gently pulls Eddie back so he's resting against Steve's chest and he moves so easily, nearly boneless from exhaustion. Steve hums as he grabs Eddie's chin with his cum-covered hand, tips his head so he can press a searing kiss to his red mouth.
"Fucking gorgeous, Eddie."
#i told you i was having Unholy Thoughts#literally it's all i could think about when i saw the art#ily ames <3#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#joey writes#steddie smut#ficlet
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Cardigan, Ethan Landry [ ONESHOT ]
— pt. 2 of seven but a oneshot instead of a drabble, i love ethan sm hes so cutiepie. i recommend listening to cardigan (taylor swift) as you read, it hits tbh
non-ghostface ethan landry x fem reader
warnings ! — ethan being a chronic sorry-er (bless him), ethan also pulls his hair a little bc of anxiety
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ethan was, to say the least, a little confused when he felt so warm as the sunlight started to pour in through the sheer white curtains in your living room. wait, was something touching his hair? his eyes fluttered open and he realised his face was against your chest (not that he was complaining) as he laid on top of you on your couch. one of your arms was lazily draped over his shoulders and the other massaged his scalp ever so gently, toying with his brown curls.
he took a breath in, relishing in your warmth and hold until he became fully aware of your positioning and shot up from your body. your eyes widened a little at the sudden movement, worried.
ethan sat a couple of inches away from you now, his own eyes widening as he remembered the events of the night prior. no, he thought, oh god please no. his hands reached up and pulled slightly at his hair with a wince, his breathing picked up and he turned to face you looking completely mortified
"i'm so sorry!" he blurts out, "oh.. god. i'm so so sorry, y/n."
he's so angry. he's completely outraged — had he no self-control? he kept mumbling apologies, so upset for knocking on your door at such an outrageous time and even more upset because he felt like he completely overshared and trauma dumped on you. he looks at the ground, muttering to himself.
his head perks up when you gently grab his wrists and pull his arms down, away from his hair. your fingers slowly creep down towards his hands and encase them in your own, rubbing your thumbs on the back of them.
"eth, i was the one who let you in," you reassure him. "if i didn't want to listen to you i could've easily shut the door in your face."
he swallowed and his face grew warm as he nodded. he knew you were right but he can't help feeling guilty. you sighed and brought his hands up, kissing his knuckles so softly before running your thumbs over them once more for good measure.
ethan looked away in embarrassment and went quiet. you smiled at his reaction, your eyes softening as you admired his face. he was truly an angel incarnate and this moment proved it.
his posture was stiff as he chewed his bottom lip. his hair looked lighter as the rays of sunlight coming in cascaded over him, over his hair, his skin and oh, his eyes. they brightened to such a beautiful shade and his lashes casted a small shadow over his cheeks. the golden light surrounded him like he was the reason the sun rose and in that very second you would've believed it.
you let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding and whistled, "wow."
ethan turned to you with his brows furrowed, a confused look on his face as he thought you were being judgmental. "what?" he asked. he noticed you were looking at him already and squinted slightly.
"is there something on my face?" he questioned.
you shook your head with a smile and licked your teeth. "no," you confirmed. "you just look so pretty."
if his cheeks were warm before they were absolutely burning now. he tried to reply, his mouth opening and closing like a fish yet he couldn't seem to get the words out. he'd never been called.. pretty before. it made his stomach churn in the best way possible.
you giggled and teased him a little. "awe, can't handle being complimented? ah, looks like i don't do it enough then, huh? my gorgeous boy."
ethan huffed and turned away, crossing his arms in false offence.
you saw it though, the little smile that pulled at the corners of his lips.
i actually really love this sm and i kid you not i spent like 20 minutes figuring out how to describe the sun-ray scene. like i was picturing jack in that way and just couldn't describe him bc hes so gorgeous im UGAHSNDN
#— river's sticky notes ✩˚｡⋆#i love ethan landry sm omg#fanfic#spotify#writers on tumblr#ethan landry x female reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#scream#scream 6#jack champion#taylor swift#taylor swift folklore#taylor swift cardigan#fanfiction#romance#fluff#ethan landry fluff#ghostface#female writers#writing#scream iv
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Flashbang
Chapter 5 - Turn the Lights Off
Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12
Pairing: OPLA Buggy x f!Reader
Synopsis: In lieu of therapy, Professor Buggy agrees to giving you pirate lessons.
Word Count: 9.6k
Notes: It's Sunday again, here is your clown. If last week was the stick, here is the carrot. Next week is the riding.
“Everybody likes to get taken for turns
To see how bright the fire inside of us burns
And everybody wants to get evil tonight
But all good devil's masquerade under the light”
xxx
“Blink,” Pippa said. You blinked, staring up at the ceiling as she coated your eyelashes with mascara, holding stock still to avoid getting poked in the eye. There was only the one to spare. “Blink.” You blinked. She recoated the wand in product, wiggling it along your bottom eyelashes to paint them too.
Asking Pippa to help you get ready had unearthed a long-buried memory, one of sitting by Mom’s vanity and watching her apply makeup thinking that one day, you would be a beautiful grown-up woman who would do the same. The glamor of it all enticed your childish self, the allure of being beautiful sparking up some immature fantasy of romance. To the extent that you could remember, Mom had been a gorgeous woman.
What would Captain Buggy think of you if you looked more like her? If you hadn’t been so sickly, if you hadn’t gotten in an accident, if you had learned to make yourself look beautiful, if things had been different, would he like you more?
“Hey,” Pippa said, snapping in front of your face, forcing you back to attention. “Are you awake?”
“Yes, of course,” you said, forcing an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s creepy when you stare like that, like one of those porcelain dolls.” She pursed her lips, contemplating your face. You fought the urge to pull down your bandana. “I’ll add some blush. That might add a little life back into your face. Smile wide.”
You smiled as wide as you could, although it probably looked like more of a grimace. While Pippa blushed your cheeks with a big fluffy brush, you kept blinking as if to free your eyelid of the extra weight of mascara on your lashes. The inky product was heavy enough, how Captain Buggy could stand wearing false eyelashes, you had no idea.
“Do you really think Captain Buggy will like this?” you asked when she set aside the brush. You tugged at the long sleeves of the dress, nervously pulling at the skirt’s hem to bring it down a little lower. Unlike the loose, plain dress Crina had lent you, this one drew attention with its vivid striped pattern of red and white, notably fitted bodice, and ruffle trim. Wearing it made your skin crawl, made you want to shrivel up to hide from anyone who might notice you. But you weren’t allowed to feel that anymore. Determination meant squishing the part of yourself that was too weak to embrace a new version of yourself, the one that was stuck in the past.
“I think he’s a man,” Pippa said, making a little adjustment to your twintails, spraying your hair with something to keep the strays in place. “If you really wanted to impress him, you’d be better off wearing nothing at all.” She glanced at your face, her expression softening at your horrified expression. “You look good,” she reassured you. “He’ll like it.”
You nodded, exhaling in an attempt to ease the knot in your chest. “Thank you for helping me.”
“How could I turn a blind eye to such a tragedy?” Pippa asked. “You’re too cute for those awful sweaters.” She stepped back, taking it all in with her lips pursed before nodding with satisfaction. “Okay, you’re ready.”
You weren’t entirely sure you were ready, but it didn’t matter.
“Thank you, Pippa.”
“Remember that you’re doing this for you too,” she told you. “You look like one of us now.”
“Right, that’s… that’s true. I’ll see you later,” you told her, smoothing the skirt one more time before taking off for the galley.
Walking with the skirt swishing around your thighs was stranger than you would have thought. It felt flirty, in a way. Or inviting. Pippa had lent you a pair of lace trimmed bloomers that would protect your modesty while scaling the ladder or if you were caught by a stray gust of wind, but everything from your mid-thigh down was exposed.
Ignore it. Pretend you didn’t even feel the discomfort.
You picked up your and the captain’s breakfast, following the increasingly familiar routine. From the kitchen to the officer’s mess to Captain Buggy’s cabin door. Then you balanced the tray on your hip and unlocked the door, showing yourself in and setting the tray on the table.
“Captain?” you called, peeking around the doorway into his room. Buggy laid in bed with his eyes closed, but you could tell he was already awake by the way his face scrunched up in response to your voice. “Good morning, Captain Buggy.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m awake,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. A moment later, he groaned dramatically, sitting up with his eyes still shut. “Get my-” The last word was lost in a yawn. You grabbed his robe, bringing it over while he pried his eyes open.
Sleepily, he looked at you, and then did a double take, blinking his red-rimmed eyes over and over like he couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at. You touched your hair, trying to pull it forward before you remembered it was pulled into tails. Instead, your hand dropped lamely, tugging at your bandana. He was going to insult you, or say you looked ridiculous. He was going to laugh. You could feel it, could sense it.
Instead, he just stared.
“Sir?” you prompted, holding out his robe.
“Did you do something different with your hair?” he asked, his voice husky and groggy.
The question took you by surprise, it was almost a letdown after such a prolonged buildup of nerves. “Um… Yes, sir.”
“Huh.” Still looking dazed, he shook his head and took the robe, swinging his feet onto the floor to stand up. You hurried ahead into the other room, setting up his breakfast while he lumbered in. You took your seat, trying to calm down. You needed to act normal.
Buggy didn’t seem especially interested, coming in with a massive yawn he didn’t bother to cover, scratching his chest absently before dropping into the chair. He blinked again a few times, and then looked at you. His eyes were rimmed with the same shade of red as his nose, glazed over. You smiled nervously, but couldn’t maintain eye contact, looking back down at the table. You wanted to start talking immediately, the words had been stewing in your head all night, but now that he was there, you couldn’t find them.
He looked like he cared more about breakfast anyway. Of all the meals, it was the one he took the most seriously, probably because he was so slow to wake up most days. Your stomach was a snarling nest of knots, but if you didn’t eat, Buggy would be annoyed. After so long without regular meals, and certainly not the hearty—if unsavory—foods favored by pirates, eating everything at every meal was a tough adjustment, sometimes it laid in your stomach like a brick. But you did it, gritting your teeth and choking down every last bite. When you swore to do anything he asked, you meant it.
Reasonably, only minutes could have passed, but it felt like much, much longer before he finished his breakfast. Buggy leaned back and belched, rolling his head around to stretch his neck. He yawned again for good measure, and then looked at you.
Now or never, right?
“Captain Buggy?” you asked, willing yourself to not be so self-conscious. “I thought about what you said yesterday.”
“What?”
“About me,” you prompted. “Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, right,” he said. “Of course I remember.”
You couldn’t tell if he meant that or not, but you were too wound up to say anything other than the words you had carefully prepared. “I want to fit in with the rest of the crew. Like you said, I want to—to be different. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to be a pirate, I really do.”
He blinked. “Is that why you’re dressed like Santa’s favorite little elf?”
“Oh, I… Um. Kind of,” you said, fidgeting uncomfortably. “If you don’t like it I can-”
“Woah, woah, I never said I don’t like it,” he said, cutting you off. “Come over here, let me get a closer look.”
You stood up, adjusting your skirt, and rounded the table so he could see the whole outfit. It was a different sort of discomfort than you felt around everybody else. Anticipatory, anxious, excited. When other people looked at you, you didn’t want to be seen. You didn’t want them to think about how pathetic you were for trying, or how unattractive you were, or judge you for things that weren’t true. When Captain Buggy looked at you, you wanted him to see your bare legs and the tighter bodice, you wanted him to think you had value, to think of you as somebody worth looking at. And you didn’t. You wanted to hide from his pretty eyes out of fear that he would think you were trying too hard, and that you were as unappealing as you knew you were.
“I like the hair,” he said. “Doesn’t really help with the whole creep thing, but it's cute that you wanna look like me.”
You reached up to tug on one of the twintails. You hadn’t even considered the similarities to how Captain Buggy wore his hair when he had his hat on. “Creep thing?”
“Come on,” Buggy said wryly. “You’re like two feet tall. Unless you’ve got the goods on display, I look like one of those weirdos runnin’ around with a kid sidekick.”
You self-consciously stood up a little taller, frowning. It wasn’t like Buggy was that tall, and it wasn’t your fault. That’s what Crina said.
Stunted development.
“Speaking of,” Buggy said, ignorant of your unpleasant thoughts. He reached out to pinch the fabric of your skirt, using it to pull you a step closer, “aren’t you worried about wearing a skirt like this? I’m relieved you’re loosening up, but there are some things you might wanna leave just between us.”
“I’m wearing shorts underneath,” you told him, flushing at the reminder that he had seen you in your underwear before. You still had no idea what had happened to Crina’s dress.
Buggy’s playful smile dropped as he lifted your skirt to look at the shorts. You wanted to smack his hand away and step back, but you didn’t. The shorts were completely opaque, he couldn’t see anything. It was fine.
“Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of wearing a skirt?” Buggy asked, releasing your dress.
“I… I don’t think I know what you mean,” you admitted, smoothing the skirt back into place. “The purpose is just because it looks nice, right?”
Buggy shrugged as if to concede the point, nodding as he appraised you again. You resisted the urge to squirm beneath his gaze. “Fine,” he said, raising his hands in defeat. “You got me, I believe that you mean it. Assuming nothing better comes up, I’ll take some time out of my very busy day to teach you a few things.”
“Really?”
“Clearly I need to take a hands-on approach if you’re gonna learn anything. I can’t have you running off to somebody else for help.”
“Thank you, Captain Buggy,” you said, smiling.
He stood up, stepping in close and meeting your eye. “You better be on your best behavior, otherwise Professor Buggy’s gonna send you to detention.”
You felt your stomach drop nervously, the words affecting you in a way you weren’t sure you liked. “I will be, I promise,” you said softly, nodding.
He patted your cheek, turning to go into the bedroom.
“And, um… Captain Buggy?” you called. He paused, half turning towards you. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I really am.”
“Ah, it’s fine. I’m not mad at you or anything,” he said flippantly. “It’s not even the worst handjob I’ve ever gotten. At least you got it off.”
He said it like a joke, most likely an innuendo, so you laughed, a little giddy with excitement and nerves and that dark sinking feeling you weren’t sure what to call. Exhaling all of the breath in your lungs, you shook your head free of all of those thoughts. The day had only just begun and you knew how quickly the tides could turn, but you no longer felt terrified of what might happen. You could do this. You would be someone worth loving.
From what you gathered, the ship was in the area where they intended to stage an attack, and that meant all hands on deck. Despite Captain Buggy’s promise of teaching you, he sent you down below to spend the morning helping with preparing the ship. You were the smallest, so you were the one who had to squeeze into the narrow storage spaces. Difficult and tiring as the work was, Marty and Pippa had been right about the previous day helping you to ingratiate yourself with the crew. Not all of them, but a few. Enough.
When you emerged onto the upper deck, you weren’t sure you had ever been as appreciative of the scent of the open ocean air. It felt like the smell of gunpowder and rot and smoke had coated the inside of your nose. You made your way towards Captain Buggy’s office with your head down, trying to give your eye time to adjust to the blinding sunlight.
“Hey,” somebody called. You didn’t look up until you heard the whistle, and then you realized whose voice it was. Your head snapped up and you raised your hand to shade your eye, to see a slightly irked Buggy standing by the steps leading up to the quarter deck. It looked like he’d been speaking to some people, but they walked away as you approached. “You deaf or somethin’?”
“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“We’re gonna start your lessons,” Buggy said. “Unless you changed your mind.”
You blinked at him, your eye still slightly blind from the sun. He was without his hat, wearing his red and white striped kerchief. The one your dress matched. Was that on purpose? You doubted it, but you liked the idea.
“No! I’m ready whenever you are, Captain Buggy.”
“Come up here.” Buggy nodded for you to follow before turning around to take the steps up to where the wheel was mounted. You hurried to follow him, almost stumbling on the bottom step while he waited at the top. “Sometime today, maybe?” He called.
“Sorry, sir,” you said, trying very hard to not sound at all winded as you joined him.
“Captain Buggy,” the red-faced helmsman, Newt, acknowledged. “Something wrong?”
“No, no,” Buggy said dismissively. “Don’t mind us, I’m just teaching a few things to my little protégé.”
Newt nodded, his eyes flicking to you and back. “Of course, Captain Buggy. Just holler if you need anything from me.”
“Do you,” Buggy began, turning around to face you, “know what this is?” He gestured behind himself.
The question seemed duplicitously simple, although there was also a chance that he thought you were that stupid. “That’s the wheel,” you said, “or, um... the helm, right?”
“Very good,” Buggy said, patting you on the head as he passed by to lean against the railing. “Remember, wherever the helm goes, the rudder follows. Where the rudder goes, we go,” Buggy said. “You-” He pointed at you. “Do not touch the wheel. Ever.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s try something a little harder—what direction are we going right now?” Buggy asked. You looked around at the open ocean, confused. It all looked the same, blue water as far as you could see until it met the seam of a different shade of equally endless blue sky.
“I-I um…”
“Here’s a hint,” Buggy said, taking something shiny out of his pocket with a dramatic roll of his eyes.
“Oh, a compass!” you said.
“That’s right,” Buggy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He flicked it open, using his body to shield it from the glare. “Do you know what it does?”
“It tells you directions.”
“Wow, look at that. Two for two,” he said dryly. “Do you know how to read it?”
“Um… Kind of.”
“Come here,” Buggy said, motioning you closer.
You hesitated, realizing what he meant—how close you would have to stand to be able to read the compass. That was fine. It was silly to be uncomfortable. You crowded in close enough for him to reach his arm around you so you could both look at the compass face. No sleeves, just his bare arm. That shouldn’t have mattered at all, but it kind of did.
“You know the cardinal directions, sweetheart?” Buggy asked. He brushed your hair off of your neck to keep it from blowing in his face. The gesture was small, but it pulled a little shiver down your spine despite the hot beat of the sun.
“Of course—of course I do,” you said, clearing your throat. “North, east, south, and west.”
“You see the red hand there? That’s always gonna point north. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, so what direction are we going?”
You stared very hard at the compass, willing your brain to compute what you were seeing to find the right answer. It should have been easy, but with Buggy standing so close and the tension of nerves making you second guess yourself, you couldn’t figure it out. The more you looked, the less the letters and notches stayed in place, your vision blurring as it always did when you tried to focus on things like words and numbers.
“Time’s up,” Buggy declared, flicking the compass shut. “There’s another way to figure it out, you know. One that’s much easier. Perfect for someone like you.”
“How?”
“Hey, Newt,” Buggy called. “What direction are we going? Use simple terms, for her sake.”
“Simple terms? Well,” Newt cleared his throat, “I s’pose you’d say, in simple terms, we’re heading northeast.”
“There ya go, babydoll,” Buggy said. “Easy as that.”
You weren’t sure how useful it would be, especially considering you would never be in a navigating position, but you weren’t about to question why Buggy wanted to teach you these things, nodding instead. “Yes, sir.”
“Here’s an easy one,” Buggy said. “Where’s starboard?”
“I-I don’t know. Is it… the… upper deck?” you guessed. “Because you can see the stars?”
“Wrong, it’s—” Buggy stopped, looking at you like you were stupid. “Wait, are you serious?”
You frowned. Realizing that you weren’t joking, he burst out laughing.
“I told you I don’t know!”
“Calm down, you don’t gotta whine about it,” Buggy said, patting your head. “How about port? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not in the casks down below.”
This, at least, you were pretty sure you knew. “It’s, um, the right side? Or left?”
Buggy rolled his eyes and grabbed the top of your head, physically turning you towards the bow. “Starboard,” he said, gesturing to the right side. “Port.” He gestured to the left. “Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough ship stuff. If I wanted to sharpen my knife, what would you call that?”
You hesitated, confused by the sudden shift in subject matter. At least you knew this one. “Honing.”
“Edging,” he corrected. “As in, refining the edge. It’s really an all-purpose term, you can use it when you want to perfect anything. Like you, for example,” Buggy explained with a growing smile. “You’re not that different from a dull blade I wanna shape up, so you could say that I want to edge you to my personal satisfaction.”
Newt burst out laughing, and Buggy’s amusement dropped, his head snapping towards the man. “Something funny?” he called.
“No, Captain Buggy,” Newt said, his laughter dying out immediately.
Buggy rolled his eyes. “You see what he’s doing right now?” he asked you. “The helmsman has to hold onto the wheel. It’s what pirates call rimming. Newt’s good at it ‘cause he’s got so much experience. Isn’t that right?”
“Er, yes, Captain Buggy,” Newt said.
Buggy looked back to you with another big grin. “Got all that? Great, let’s go back down.” He didn’t wait for your response before going back down the steps, leaving you to trail behind, confused about the contents of the ‘lesson’ and realizing more than ever how completely in over your head you were.
A couple more hours down below left you exhausted as you returned to the upper deck to ask Captain Buggy where he intended to eat supper. It wasn’t as busy as it had been for most of the day. Ahead, you recognized Marty and a couple other crewmates, people you weren’t as familiar with.
As you passed them, the banged-up, disembodied arm of a mannequin flopped onto the deck in front of you.
“Ahhh, my hand!” one of the men cried. “Pick it up, pick it up!”
You frowned, flushing with embarrassment at the reminder of yesterday.
Marty patted your shoulder, his smile much nicer than the others. “They’re just teasing you, girlie. Don’t take it too seriously.”
You nodded. It was just teasing. You could handle teasing, Captain Buggy did nothing except tease you. So you steeled yourself, stooping down to pick up the fake arm.
“Mine was a better handjob than yours,” you said, using Buggy’s joke from that morning. “At least I actually got it off.” You held up the arm, which was intact from elbow joint to fingertip. More of a forearmjob, if such a thing existed. “It’s all about the wrist.”
Marty, at the very least, found that funny, setting you at ease the tiniest bit.
“Got a lot of experience with it, have you?” one of the women asked. You were pretty sure her name was Pogo.
Was that another innuendo? Or was she talking literally? “Probably not as much as you,” you told her, smiling to try and make light of it either way.
Marty let out a barking guffaw, although the reaction of the group seemed mixed otherwise. Flushing, shaking from the rush of adrenaline you got from speaking up like that, you handed Marty the mannequin arm.
“I have to hurry, sorry.”
You heard more jeers as you walked away, going as fast as you could. What you said was wrong, you should have held your tongue. Even if it was teasing, telling a joke you didn’t understand just to try and save face was childish.
Don’t think about it. Just pretend it didn’t happen.
Once you were in the map room, you could see that Buggy’s office door was open. He was sitting sideways in his chair with his boots propped up, reading a book. You knocked, leaning in the doorway.
“Captain Buggy?” you asked.
“What do you want?” he snapped, irritated.
“I, um, I came to ask if you would be dining in your office. I’m sorry to disturb you.”
Buggy looked up at you over the top of the book, his scowl softening before he sighed, throwing it down and massaging his temples. You looked at the book curiously. For some reason, the red leather binding seemed familiar to you.
“You’re not much of a reader, huh? ‘Cause of the-” He gestured to his eye.
“No, sir. I’m sorry.”
Buggy sighed dramatically. “Maybe I’ll get Mohji to look this over. He’s so concerned with that lion. It better dance like a goddamn ballerina, otherwise it’s gonna be dinner.”
“What are you reading, captain?” you asked.
“It’s a trade route log from that shithole town we ransacked the other night.”
You went still, realizing why the book looked so familiar.
“Do you know where it was found?” you asked.
“Big, fancy house—same place as the maps. Apparently the idiot who lived there forgot to lock his safe.”
Dad always, always kept his safe locked. Not only that, but he had it set so that the contents would be destroyed if anyone were to attempt to force it open. He had no idea you knew how to circumvent his security, you couldn’t even begin to imagine his fury if he did. But you did know how to get into his safe, and you had opened it on the day you ran away to steal Buggy’s poster, some money, and get a last look at the pictures he kept hidden. Had you reset the security measures and locked the safe when you left? You couldn’t remember, but the answer was probably no.
But you couldn’t tell Buggy about any of that. It was almost dizzying to realize how deep into the lie you were, almost completely by accident. You didn’t tell Buggy who your father was because you didn’t want him to know you were related to a retired Marine. If you said it now, he would wonder why you hadn’t mentioned it when you saw the maps, and you would look even more suspicious.
Uncomfortable indecision consumed you as you stood there, stringing together stilted explanations you weren’t even sure Buggy would listen to once you admitted to lying.
“Oh, right,” Buggy said, noticing your expression. “You probably knew the guy, huh? I bet you had no idea he was using your nice little town with its fancy little harbor to move drugs.”
“No,” you said sharply. Then, realizing how harsh that sounded, you shook your head, trying to backpedal. “I mean, that’s not… There’s no way he would do that. He’s a retired Marine.”
Buggy rolled his eyes. “Of course he was. Only a Marine would have the balls to traffic drugs but forget to lock his safe.” He snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “Now there’s a lesson for ya, kiddo. Marines are dumb as shit. Stink like shit too, ‘cause of all the ass kissing they do.”
“No, there has to be a mistake,” you argued. “I know him, and he would… He would never, ever be involved in anything like that.”
Buggy gave you a flat look. “How well do you know him?”
You balked, shaking your head. “He’s Randall’s dad,” you said, the first reasonable lie you could think of. “I don’t know him well, I-I just… I just find it hard to believe. But…” You exhaled until your shoulders collapsed inwards, trying to steady yourself and not give anything away. “That’s naive, isn’t it.”
“Good thing stupid looks cute on you,” Buggy said, standing up. He circled his desk, grabbing your shoulder in a friendly sort of way. “Eventually, you’ll learn that everyone lies. Evvvvv-ryone. That’s why you gotta stick with me, I’ll set you straight.” He winked before turning towards the door, stretching his arms above his head. “C’mon. We’re gonna eat in the officer’s mess.”
You paused before following, looking over your shoulder at the book he’d carelessly thrown onto the desktop. Was there anything in there that would tie you to dad? Probably not, most likely not. Then again, you couldn’t really believe that dad was involved with trafficking drugs either.
“Move your ass, kid,” Buggy complained. “I’m starving.”
“I’m not really much of a fisher myself,” Buggy said as he shrugged off his coat for you to hang up, “but I knew this juggler who was amazing at it. He could catch any type of fish. A real master baiter. So he and I were—”
Master baiter? You pursed your lips. Even you knew that one. “Captain Buggy,” you said, cutting him off. “Is this a joke?”
“What?” he asked, clearly annoyed by the interruption as he pulled off his gloves. “No. Why would you think that?”
If he was messing with you, his expression didn’t give it up. “Just ‘cause…” You shrugged helplessly. “Nevermind, I’m sorry.”
“Oooo-kay,” he said, drawing out the word sarcastically. “Like I said, this guy was something else, but there was one thing he never managed to catch. There’s this rare species of clam that’s pretty hard to get. Because of where they live, they get covered with seaweed, kinda like a beard. You know, bearded clams. You have to give ‘em a good in-and-out with your spear if you wanna catch one.”
He collapsed into his chair, leaning back to let you take off his hat and headscarf. His hair was such a pretty color. Buggy got annoyed if you were too rough with his hair which seemed a little unfair considering how unruly it was, but that definitely wasn’t something you intended to push.
“This guy was desperate to run one through himself, but his technique was shit,” Buggy continued. “So I was out there with him and he just kept failing over and over before he finally gives up, coming out of the water all miserable holding something shiny. He thought they were pearls, but they were actually a set of his own blue balls.”
You snorted in amusement. “Now I know you’re making this up, Captain Buggy,” you said, combing his hair back and using some of the powdery dry shampoo to soak up the grease.
“Nope, it’s all true,” Buggy said. He raised his right hand. “On God.”
“Blue balls?” you repeated. “I’m not that stupid.”
“Well, yeah. He was a juggler. Why, what do you think I meant?”
“Like…” you hesitated, suddenly doubting that you were right. Maybe you were just going to embarrass yourself. “Isn’t that something that men…”
“That men… What?” Buggy asked, turning his head to look up at you. His eyes glinted mischievously. He was messing with you, he had to be.
“I don’t know, but it’s… It’s something uncomfortable, isn’t it?”
Buggy burst out laughing, shaking his head as it fell into his palm. “You know, it makes sense that this would go over your head, you’re so short that everything else does.”
You frowned. “Will you explain it to me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
You frowned and sighed, kneeling to get his boots. Buggy had the grace to point his toes, at least, which made it easier for you.
“I keep trying to figure what might happen to a girl that she ends up like you, but I’m drawing a blank,” Buggy said, his tone becoming thoughtful. “I get the daddy issues, and I even get the sort of wacky one-eyed ingénue thing you’ve got going. I’ve seen it all. For some reason, I always bag the crazy chicks. If anything, you’re a step up in that department.”
“Have you had a lot of girlfriends, Captain Buggy?” you asked, your mind latching onto that comment over everything else. The idea of Buggy with other women made you feel oddly cold.
“Girlfriends?” he repeated, like it was a dirty word. “What am I, twelve? I don’t have time for that shit.”
“But you said that…” you looked up at him, frowning in confusion. “Nevermind.”
“How many boyfriends have you had?” Buggy asked. “Other than that shidiot from the other day.”
The mention of Randall made your heart rate pick up, but you fought the reaction. Don’t think about it. It was fine. Instead, you focused on wrestling off his other boot. “None.”
Buggy snorted in amusement. “I figured.”
Setting aside his boots, you washed your hands and got the makeup remover. He’d made a mess of it all last night when he did it himself. You made a note to tidy up and returned to Buggy, keeping your head down.
“Now that you’ve got this new look, you should embrace your little deformity,” he told you as you began removing his makeup, starting on his forehead like usual. Instead of waiting for your answer, he pulled your bandana up and off, a huge grin splitting his face at the sight of your uncovered eye. Your breath caught, your body freezing in place. “Might as well go all the way,” he said, tracing the scar’s jagged edge. It split the top of your cheek, a lightning bolt of white and red scar tissue.
“Captain Buggy,” you muttered softly, staring very intently at his shoulder. Losing the bandana felt like going without underwear, and having him touch the scar was almost as bad as if he shoved a hand up your shirt. “Please give it back. Please?”
“Do you need it to do your job?” Buggy asked.
You rolled your lip between your teeth, realizing where he was going with this. “No,” you finally allowed.
“Then why did you stop?”
Your eyebrows furrowed to express your displeasure, but he just smiled. At least he had to close his eyes as you returned to removing his makeup, loading the rag up with greasepaint. Luckily, Buggy didn’t say anything else until you were finished. When you set the rag and oil aside, his eyes opened. The rings of pale green and blue that made up his irises made it difficult to determine their exact color sometimes, although it was always clear that his eyes were pretty and round and bright. They could have a strikingly youthful quality as well, especially without any makeup.
“How did you get it anyway?” Buggy asked. “Did daddy beat you a little too hard?”
“No,” you said immediately, a little abruptly. Then you stopped yourself, realizing how the sharpness of your tone might sound. “Sorry, no. Nothing like that… It was an accident.”
“If you were even half as dedicated to me as you’ve been claiming you are, then why do you keep lying?”
“I’m not lying,” you said. Not lying about this, at least. “It’s hard to… I don’t want to cry. It’s so embarrassing.”
“C’mon, what’s on the line?” Buggy asked. “Your dignity?”
Much as it hurt, he was right. What dignity did you have to sacrifice? It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Your own little pitiful tragedy. Everybody had pain. Everybody suffered bad things. You needed to be an adult about it.
“There was… it was an explosion. I wasn’t close enough to… But I got hit by debris and…” You drew a line from over your left eyebrow and down, ending with the jagged canyon of scar tissue dug into your cheek. “My Mom was,” you had to force the words out, it was as if your body physically did not want to speak them, like metal grinding against metal, “she was in it.”
Buggy pulled in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Oof. Daddy and mommy issues, that’s… Actually, that explains a lot.”
You sniffed, carefully wiping under your eye so as to not smear the mascara. Your hands shook so hard it felt violent, your body reacting even worse than your mind. Stupid. You were being stupid and embarrassing.
“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” Buggy asked.
“No, it… It was a long time ago, it’s fine,” you said gruffly. “My head hurts sometimes, but it’s fine.”
“No, I don’t mean physically,” he said dismissively. “I’m talking about pain. Real pain. That’s why you wear this thing, right?” He asked, holding up the worn scrap of fabric. “Because it hurts.”
You shrugged helplessly, not knowing how to answer, not wanting to answer. “I… I guess so.”
“That’s a good thing,” Buggy said.
“I don’t think…” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. You didn’t want to disagree with Captain Buggy, but you couldn’t agree either. Pain made you weak, you were more than aware of that. “I don’t know.”
Buggy leaned forward and grabbed your head, cradling it. “Pain is the foundation of all great art,” he told you, forcing you to look into his eyes. “We both know that you have absolutely zero potential, but your suffering, babydoll… Your suffering can be shaped into something brilliant.”
You swallowed hard, holding your breath in the electric limbo of the inches between you and him, burning between the clasp of his hands on either side of your head.
“How?”
“We’ll work on it,” Buggy said, releasing you. You nearly fell over when he stood up, dazed from the way he had been holding you. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day, I can feel it.”
“Yes, sir,” you said softly, clearing your throat. “Goodnight, Captain Buggy.”
Marty was polishing his weapons when you returned to your bunk, shooting you a toothy smile. Pippa was already asleep, a mask over her eyes and arms folded like a corpse. She told you sleeping like that helped with wrinkles.
“Hey there, girlie,” Marty said. After the troublesome conversation you had with Buggy, you felt more than a little appreciative for his uncomplicated friendship.
“Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?” You asked.
“I got the night shift.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged good naturedly. “It’s the job, I can’t complain much. ‘Sides, I was hoping to catch you before you turned in.” He appraised the little knife he’d been shining before flipping it closed and holding it out to you. “For you.”
“For me?” you repeated, uncertain of how to react. “Why?”
“Every pirate needs one. It’s a part of the code.”
“Marty, I…” You swallowed hard, surprised by how touching the offer was. “Thank you, but I can’t take your knife.”
“Nah, I don’t want it. I thought it looked nice when I found it, but it’s too girly for me. Go on, ‘else it’s goin’ into the ocean.”
With careful fingers, you accepted the knife, weighing it in your hand. It wasn’t big or heavy and, with the blade folded, there was nothing intimidating about it. Marty had oiled and shined it, but it was still a simple thing of metal and wood, the blade swinging out from the grip on a hinge. You had no idea what he thought was ‘girly’ about it, it seemed perfectly average to you. Plain, yes, although right then it was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.
“Thank you,” you told him, curling your fingers around it protectively.
“I’ve got a feeling you’ll need it ‘fore long. Some men don’t know how to act around a pretty gal.” He stood up and stretched, yawning widely. “Alright, girlie. Sleep well.”
“Thank you, Marty.”
You stood there even after he had gone, holding the knife in a clenched fist and trying to sort through your unsettled feelings.
It was the music that woke you up. A lone melody, perfectly in tune even a capella. Virtuosity swirled in her blood, as tangible as her flesh. Beauty was not why you caged a songbird, although the lovely color could confuse somebody who didn’t know how to truly value a canary.
Weightless as the dark through which you traversed, you felt yourself drifting towards her voice, lured as surely as if it were a siren’s call.
Light from the window nearly blinded you, all you could make out was her silhouette. Achingly familiar. You’d have known her anyway, from nothing more than a single breath you would know your own mother. From the shadow’s edge dripped tears, falling even as she continued to sing, looking out into a landscape too bright for you to comprehend. Brighter and brighter. Soon it would be too blinding for you to see anything at all, too loud for you to hear her. If she turned her head, even if just by a few inches, you would see her face again. You could go to her, and her song would be happy once more. But your voice was gone, and your feet would take you no further, and she continued to sing her mournful song. That’s what she had always been. Beautiful and distant and impossible.
All at once, you know where you were. When you were. Hot, agonizingly bright light consumed everything, and the first sounds of the world breaking would be loud before they yielded to silence, and the air was bad, that’s why the canary stopped singing.
“How are you?” Crina asked. She claimed this would be your last ‘check-up’ and you were eager to get it over with, to convince her of your own vitality. “Are the headaches any better?”
“Much, much better,” you told her. It was a lie, but a small one. A harmless one. The truth was that the headaches were never gone for long and the base of your skull still thumped from the memory of whatever Ivo had hit you with and you had to sneak in frequent breaks so you didn’t pass out when you stood up, but those were things she couldn’t fix.
“Have you been eating like I told you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Any dizzy spells? Fainting?”
“No.”
For a moment, you thought for sure Crina would call you out on that lie. Of course you had dizzy spells, and moments where you had to rest just to catch your breath. That was normal for you, and you could handle it. To your relief, she didn’t press the matter, allowing it to pass.
“You look tired, are you not getting enough sleep?”
“I had bad dreams last night,” you admitted. “I don’t usually, but…” You frowned, looking at the floor. It was because you had been thinking of her, of what happened. Dad told you that it was bad to think or talk about it, that it would only aggravate the internal wound. “It’s okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “Nothing serious.”
“I have something for you,” Crina told you, picking up a wrapped package and handing it over.
“What is it?”
“Pads to put in your underwear.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. ���For what?”
Crina’s eyes narrowed. “For your monthly. I don’t know when you have yours, but I’m worried you’ll be too embarrassed to ask for any help and bleed everywhere. With everybody packed in like this, you have to take care of these things quickly and as cleanly as possible.”
A hot flush immediately burned your cheeks, and you shoved the package back towards her. “I don’t need them,” you said, looking very hard at the floor. “I don’t get… get that anymore.”
Although you were avoiding her eye, you could tell Crina was frowning. “What do you mean?”
You cleared your throat, willing yourself to be normal, to calm down. “The blood and everything,” you explained. “I don’t get that.”
“When was your last cycle?”
“Why does that matter?”
“It’s a matter of your health.”
You let out a shaky breath, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s been a long time. My dad said that it’s… it’s not natural, that it’s unhealthy to bleed like that. Especially since I was so sick, my body can’t handle the stress.”
“So he stopped it?”
Crina’s tone, dangerously questioning, made your stomach drop. You closed your mouth hard, your teeth clacking together. Already you were shaking your head, although you didn’t know why. “It’s not like that,” you said.
“I did not want to ask you this,” Crina said carefully, “and I wish I didn’t have to, but did your father ever hurt you?”
“No, it’s not like that,” you said again.
“One of the methods of stopping that process is surgical. Did he ever operate on you?”
“No,” you said even louder, shaking your head fast. “No, no. No. It was… food, medicine. He never… I don’t want to talk about this anymore, it doesn’t even matter, it’s…” You shook your head, rejecting it all.
Crina backed off, leaving you to shake and choke back the horrible bite of nausea in your throat. With clammy fingers, you undid the twintails Pippa had shown you how to style to let your hair hang in a limp curtain, pulling it forward to hide your face.
“I like your new clothes,” Crina said, her tone much lighter. “I assume this was Pippa’s idea?”
You nodded, letting out a choked, “yes.”
“Do you like it?”
“I… I think I do,” you said, wiping your eye. It was too late to pretend that you hadn’t been upset, but you could still save some face.
“You think you do?”
Sniffling, you tried to center yourself, to find an answer she might accept. That morning, after the dream and all of the sludge that it plunged out of your subconscious, you wanted to return to the ‘lumpy sweaters’ that Pippa hated. They kept you hidden. They were comfortable. Fortunately, Pippa did not let you make that choice, making you up like you were a dress up doll.
When you took Buggy his breakfast, he didn’t say anything weird. He told you that you looked cute. Not cute-ish, just cute. Even thinking about it put a tingly sort of heat in your belly.
But then other people looked at you, they saw the hem of the black, puffy shorts and makeup and fitted shirt and it made your skin crawl with a million tiny little ants, your spine curling and shoulders collapsing in an attempt to invert back into yourself. When they saw you like this, did they think about bleeding and babies and sex? What could they see other than your ruined face and pathetic body?
“My favorite part of deciding what to wear,” Crina said, forcing your attention back to her, “is that clothes disguise you. The louder the outfit, the less people notice the person who’s wearing it. When they look at me, they see what I want them to see. It’s a sort of… sleight of hand. When they look at you wearing this, that’s what they see. Even your bandana looks like an intentional style.”
You sniffled. “You think so?”
“That’s what Captain Buggy does with his makeup and the clothes. People were always going to see him in only one way, but now it’s on his terms.”
“I guess that’s true,” you allowed. You hadn’t thought of it that way at all, which seemed silly now that she’d pointed it out.
Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Crina nodded and turned away. You caught her by the sleeve, looking up at her directly. “Crina?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I were mean?”
“No, that’s not what I…” Your hand dropped and you shook your head with a pang of embarrassment. “Nevermind.”
“Alright then,” Crina said. “Do you need help putting your hair back up?”
You ran your fingers through it, although the prompt was obvious. Keep it up. Be confident. Embrace the look. You sighed, nodding. You would be bold.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” you said. “I would appreciate it.”
“Zan?” you asked hopefully, tapping on the shoulder of who you hoped was the right man. A scout that had just returned from getting a good look at the ship Captain Buggy intended to capture. A man who was stupid enough to keep Captain Buggy waiting. He looked at you in surprise before recognition hit.
“Oh, it’s you. You look different,” he said, scanning you up and down. You felt bad to admit that you didn’t remember him at all, so you just smiled, trying to force yourself not to squirm beneath his not-so-subtle gaze.
“Captain Buggy wants to see you,” you said. That was an understatement. The fact that Zan didn’t immediately give his report, instead going to the galley to find something to eat, left the captain more than a little unhappy. “That’s why… Um. I’ll go with you.”
He took a big bite of what looked like a softened biscuit and grinned, saying something that sounded like ‘lead the way’ through his mouthful of food. You nodded, turning to cut your way towards the ladder to the upper deck. The berth was thick with activity and noise and motion and new scents and colors. Everybody had something very important to do. They were calling it a dress rehearsal, and with that came no small amount of makeup and costumes. The Buggy Pirates weren’t going to raid a merchant vessel like any other pirate crew, they were going to put on a show. Any survivors would well remember the performance.
The upper deck swarmed with further chaos. Everything needed to be checked and double checked. Rather than the horrible nerves you felt at the prospect of violence, the air crackled with carnival-like excitement. Artistic egos and violent impulses had been building up to a breaking point with each day aboard, but now they had the promise of release.
“Are you gonna join in the fun tonight?” Zan asked you. He’d gotten very close so you could hear him over the noise, standing in your blindspot in a way that made you jump.
“No, I don’t think so,” you said, smiling apologetically.
“Hm. All dressed up with nowhere to run, that’s a shame.”
“Is it fun to be a scout?” you asked, trying to change the subject.
Zan shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it’s fun, but it’s important. The captain sends men like me because I’m the best. I’ve got an eye for spotting the most profitable ships. I’ve got an eye for beautiful things too.”
“Which eye is which? Ships on the right and beautiful things on the left?” you asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from anything uncomfortable. “Or the other way around?”
Zan laughed. “Let’s check, hm? Look at me and-” He covered his left eye, looking at you. Then he covered his right eye. “Hm. I guess both of them are good for spotting beautiful things.”
You laughed nervously, tugging your bandana down.
“You know, while we were out there we happened upon a huge sea beast,” Zan said as you took the steps up onto the quarterdeck, undeterred by your reaction.
“What kind of sea beast?”
“It was hard to tell with all of its thrashing, but it was a frightful thing. So big that I could only see its outline in the depths.”
“Really?” you asked without any shred of belief, opening the door into the map room.
“I damn near lost my arm.”
“How’d you get away then?” you asked, walking around the table to knock on Captain Buggy’s office door.
“Well, that’s a tale unto itself,” Zan said. “But rest assured, the foul beast is ‘armless.”
“Come in,” Buggy said, his voice muffled. You hesitated before opening the door, registering Zan’s terrible joke. Armless. Harmless. You couldn’t help but let out a little burst of laughter, letting Zan enter as you tried to control your amusement.
“What’s so funny?” Captain Buggy snapped, scowling. The mood of the room, of Buggy’s thunderous expression and Cabaji’s respectful impassivity finally hit you like a wall of ice. You cleared your throat.
“Nothing, Captain Buggy,” you said, bowing your head. “Just a… a joke.”
“Oh really?” Buggy asked. He smiled, but it didn’t at all reach his eyes. “Let’s hear it then.”
“It’s nothing, Captain Buggy,” Zan said. “I have the report.”
“Do you? Here I was thinking maybe you’d taken up a career in comedy instead. It’s funny that you think you can keep me waiting while you stuff your face and try to flirt with my half-wit errand girl. Speaking of-” Buggy looked at you, nodding to the door. “Out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Standing in the sun for too long left your head aching and sunburned your scalp, but you didn’t dare leave your post, resolved to wait patiently and professionally. It was hard to not take Buggy’s moods personally, but he probably didn’t mean it. You understood why he was unhappy, tonight was a big night and Zan was behaving unprofessionally. What worried you more was his use of the word ‘flirt’. The word was a crime unto itself, bearing down on you with suffocating amounts of guilt. That’s why you didn’t dress like this. It was an open invitation, a signal you sent out that practically begged for that sort of attention.
You had no idea how much time passed before Zan left Captain Buggy’s office. He left with his face resolutely turned forward, walking fast without any acknowledgement of your attempted apology. Cabaji followed shortly behind him. He said nothing, only acknowledging you to nod you back into Buggy’s office.
That did not bode well.
Steeling yourself with your hands balled into fists at your sides, you braved going in. The door into his office was open for you. Buggy was writing something furiously, muttering under his breath. After standing in the sun, the relative cool of his office made you shiver. You waited for a couple of drawn out seconds, consumed by the painful thud of your heart, the scribbling scratch of whatever he was writing, and the chaotic chorus of the crew out on the deck.
“Should I get your lunch, Captain Buggy?” you finally asked. His head popped up so fast his hat wobbled, although his expression wasn’t especially animated. He appraised you for a long moment before dropping his pen, leaning back.
“Come over here for a minute first,” he said, gesturing you to him with curled fingers. With your hands clasped nervously in front of your stomach, you approached his desk. “No, come over here,” Buggy ordered, turning his chair and pointing at the floor in front of him. You circled the desk, standing in front of him.
Buggy grabbed you by the hips, pulling you forward until you stood between his legs. You stumbled, grabbing his shoulders to keep from falling into him completely.
“I know everything that happens on my ship,” Buggy told you. “I mean that. Everything.”
That wasn’t what you expected. You nodded in understanding, swallowing down the lump in your throat.
“I’m starting to think you’re not the sweet, innocent girl I thought you were,” Buggy said, idly swaying you back and forth. Your entire body stilled, physically halted by those words and the liquid lead they injected into your heart.
“Captain?”
“Look at you! All grown up. Makeup and everything.” Buggy pushed you back to hold you at arm's length, his eyes slowly scanning down your body. “I might have to cover you up a little if my crew can’t behave with you hanging around tempting them like this.”
“I’m not trying to…” you said, the words sinking cold and sick into your stomach. “No, I’m not… That’s not my-my intention.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Buggy said, rolling his eyes. “You’d never go around looking like this to tempt anybody. What would you even do if you got a man’s attention?” He sighed, nodding sympathetically. “The real question is what a man would do to you… I think it’s time you and I had the talk.”
He was clearly messing with you, but it worked, you recoiled, your skin crawling. “Captain Buggy, I don’t… It’s not a big deal, right? I would never ever do anything, I mean that.” you said, trying very hard to keep a cool head despite the way your face burned.
“I get it. It’s embarrassing to talk about this sort of thing. Normally this would be a father’s job, but I guess he kinda dropped the ball on that one, huh? The point is that you gotta be careful. You know what I’m talking about, right? The birds and the bees… No?” You didn’t respond, far too aware of the awkwardness of your body, the flush blazing all the way up into your ears. “That’s not ringing a bell?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Well, I didn’t want to be vulgar, but I would never forgive myself if I let you go out there looking like this and you got knocked up or something. I mean, whew, better hope you brought a hanger or something. Just remember—no glove, no love.”
Knowing better than to push his hands away, you settled for covering your face in an attempt to hide the embarrassment of disgust and shame. Buggy laughed at your reaction, reaching up to tug on one of your twintails playfully.
“Oh, come on,” he complained. “Don’t be like that.”
“Please don’t joke about that,” you said, dropping your hands a little. “I… Please?”
“I wasn’t joking. I mean, shit, can you even carry a baby?” he teased, releasing your hips to tickle your sides. “Where would it go? Scratch that, where would the dick even go?”
“Please stop!” you exclaimed indignantly, grabbing his hands to still them. Buggy used that to pull you back into place.
“The real laugh is that I’d let anyone get that close,” he told you. “Oh, hey, there’s some vocabulary for ya. What do you call somebody who tries to take the captain’s property?”
You cleared your throat. “Um… A thief?”
“Dead.”
You stopped squirming around, a nervous laugh bubbling up from your gut before the flat look in his eyes really registered.
“What was it that you said?” Buggy asked, giving you a familiar look. A smile lurked around his mouth, but his eyes shined with a keen mania as they studied your face for the slightest trace of defiance. “When you begged to join my crew, I mean. That you’ll happily serve me for…”
“I’ll happily serve you for the rest of my life,” you finished for him, knowing better than to do anything other than wholeheartedly agree. “I-I mean it, Captain Buggy. If I—If I did something wrong, please tell me and I’ll stop or… or… Anything you want.”
“I want…” he said slowly. Then the bubble popped, and he pushed you away a few steps. “I want you to go get us some lunch. I’m starving and as adorable as those thighs of yours are, you could use a little more meat.”
“Yes, sir,” you said.
“Oh, and babydoll,” Buggy called. You turned to him, head tilted cautiously. “Mosey on down to the brig at some point to find a comfortable spot, you’re gonna have to stay down there for our dress rehearsal tonight. Things are gonna get a little bloody up here.”
#opla buggy#opla buggy x reader#buggy x reader#one piece live action#buggy the clown#buggy the clown x reader#my writing#flashbang
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I know heaven’s a thing, I go there when you touch me
Pairing: 6’4 Steve Rogers x Reader
Warning: Soft!dark Steve Rogers, Yandere!Steve Roger, size kink? Bad words? If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
Summary: You just wanted to try one night stand- for the sake of your sanity. But who knew you would be doing it with the Captain America himself?
A/N: I came back bearing gift for you! Thank you so much for always supporting me my loves! Also quick life update, I have 13 days left in my job before I’m finally free~ will probably rest for a month before I look for another job for my sanity uwu. I hope you enjoy this! Also!!! 4kish fic, first time I wrote a one-shot thing long
“You!”
Sam jumped from his seat upon hearing your loud shout. Steve, who wasn’t expecting the loud sound coming from you, only calmly looked behind him from his seated form on the bar. He was still nursing the whisky despite his inability to get drunk, only accompanying Sam in what he called “boys night”, sans Bucky who was busy guarding his little bird. Or rather, stalking his little bird. He watched you over his hooded eyes, the dimmed lights from the bar making him looked dangerous, but it was the way he looked at you that almost made you stopped walking to him. He waited patiently for you to reach him, his form completely relaxed, his posture leaning against the bar and even seated, he managed to tower over your small form.
“Me.” Steve stated with a smirked on his face, the blue shirt he was wearing brought out the beauty in his eyes. You felt Sam’s dark eyes on you as if in thought why you were screaming at the Captain America.
Only that you didn’t know he was a hero. You weren’t from around here, you weren’t even from around this state. Or this continent. You were here for an overseas job that you just couldn’t not accept- a job that would get you out of your comfort zone and one that would broaden your career. Who could say no to that?
You squinted your eyes at him, taking his confidence and masculinity in.
“Do you find me attractive?” You asked with false bravado. At this point, you were beyond frustrated with the way you just finish. You meant, you were doing your part, you were putting yourself out there. You just got out of a three-year relationship, in which you never came, not even once. You could not help but think that maybe there was something wrong with you.
Were you not doing it right? Were you not putting more effort? Were you not just enthusiastic? You meant, how hard could it be? Other people did it on a daily basis- then why could you not orgasm? And you felt sorry for your then partner. You could not help but think that maybe you were the problem? Maybe there were just women who couldn’t come. Yeah, right. So you tried again with someone else for months. And. You. Still. Couldn’t. Come.
And so you promised yourself that this would be your last great effort in trying to achieve it. You told yourself to find the most attractive man in this fancy bar, and go home with him. So here you were, trying to stand taller than you actually were, and asking the handsome man in front of you if he found you attractive.
Steve tilted his head in the endearing way of his, looked down and up at you slowly running his eyes over your gorgeous form and met your eyes. His blue ones twinkled as if he found this amusing, “Yes.” His velvet voice affirmed.
“Then do you want to have sex with me?” You sputtered, hoping that your voice came out sure and not shaky, as what you felt inside.
Steve tilted his head, his long lashes fluttering as he blinked, as he regarded you. He looked like he was considering what you asked seriously.
Sam chuckled, in his own way of easing the awkwardness he was feeling after a moment of dead air, “Good luck with that. This man is as decent as-“
Suddenly, Steve rose to his feet, his huge form towering over you little one before he collected his leather jacket.
“I would love to.”
You blinked owlishly, craning your head up just to look at his eyes as he neared your little form, the soft lights from the bar was making him looked ethereal, as if he was an angel, one that looked at you with a dark glint in his eyes. He bowed his head a little so he could see better. He could not help but likened you to a little kitten, one that was hissing and standing up more than its actual height. Your head was just leveled below his chest. You were so small that Steve didn’t know how you survived life so far. He knew what it was like to be little, he was no stranger to being small. But back then, he had Bucky. And despite how brave Steve was back then, he knew he would diminished without someone protecting him. You reminded him of Steve before the serum. You were brave, so brave despite the tremble in your lips when you approached him. You were scared…but you still did it. There was something about your gentle courage that made him want to go with you just to see this through. He wasn’t like that. To be honest, he had always thought of women as something that he could survive without. After all, he lived a long life without a companion. He had never understood why Bucky was so enamored and captivated by his little bird.
But strangely, all he wanted to do was get to know you…so he could protect you.
So…was there someone protecting you, little kitten?
He smiled at you, his nose picking up your sweet fragrance. He wanted nothing but to smell you more. He cocked his head to the side, his hand going in his pocket as he watched you involuntarily take a step back.
“You can back out,” his baritone voice teased you. He didn’t know why he said that, perhaps it was his way of giving you a chance to get out of this predicament. Perhaps, he was scared to find out how he would be like if his incessant need to protect you deepened beyond going back. He watched your brows furrowed as if you were seriously considering backing out. He hoped you wouldn’t. For both of your back, he hoped you would. He was torn, but he wasn’t going to make the decision for you. No, you have to decide for the both of you.
“Are you scared, little kitten?”
You snapped your eyes back at him, the strong resolve he saw mere minutes ago was now back, stronger than ever. You stepped closer to him, and without thinking, you reached for his hand and pulled him, leading him out of the bar and into the life you would inevitably have with him when you made the decision to touch him.
Steve opened his apartment door, sidestepping and gesturing for you to enter his lair. You eyed him but he just gave you an innocent smile before tilting his head as he waited for you to enter his apartment. You stepped foot inside his apartment, your eyes roaming over the place of the man you wanted to sleep with. Your eyes found the hanged black and white photograph of him and a dark-haired man wearing what looked like an old military uniform. The next photograph was of a group of huge men wearing..costumes? Was Steve a model? You frowned before walking deeper into his apartment. His apartment screamed masculinity, it smelled clean and with a hint of his distinct smell. You jumped when you heard the door closed, Steve locking it as he put his car keys on the table. He smiled innocently at you before perching himself on the edge of the table, his stance completely relaxed like nothing could falter him. His heart swelled of approval when he asked you where you wanted to go and you suggested his place. Smart girl, he thought. You should not let anyone in your place.
You cleared your throat, standing awkwardly in front of this massive and handsome man as he looked at you with a smile on his lips as if you were amusing to him, “I like your apartment.”
“I like your lips,” he smiled sweetly at you before reaching his large hand at you, urging you to take it, “can I kiss you?”
You chuckled as you walked near him, “Is this how it usually goes?”
“What?”
“One night stands,” you clarified before stepping in between his spread legs instead of taking his hand, “the movies were wrong, then.” This close and you could see how blue his eyes were, how he perfectly sculpted his jaw was, how long his lashes were as he stared at you. Despite his half-sitting position, your head only grazed his chest. Slowly, his large hand covered the expanse of the small of your back, pulling you closer to his form, wanting to feel your warmth.
“How does the movie usually go, hmm?” He whispered as he ran his nose to your jaw, down to your neck, taking you in, taking your scent in because he had never in his life wanted to know what someone smelt like, only now. This was more than what was in the movie, little kitten. No, this was more intense.
You sighed as he pulled you even closer, “Well, usually, they go inside the apartment drunk out of their heads, bodies locked together as if all they are driven to do is to well, fuck.” You heard him chuckled, before he returned his eyes on you. Slowly, he tucked your hair behind your ear, “There’s usually not much talking, I think,” you added.
Steve tipped your chin to him, “Well I guess, this is not a one night stand, then.”
You weren’t given a chance to think about what had said when he decided to finally do what he had been wanting to do the whole night. Steve’s lips touched yours so tenderly, as if the huge man himself was terrified to know how your lips tasted like, only to find himself instantly addicted to them. He growled before standing up, your face in between his strong hands as he deepened the kiss, never giving you the chance to escape from his hunger, and not that you wanted to. It had been so long since someone made you feel something akin to this, or really no one at all made you feel like this. You had read about this, you had watched movies when the characters kissed for the first time. You had always thought that it would really be like that with you. But time and time again, you were disappointed. You had always felt nothing, you thought kissing was a chore.
But this- this was what the movies and literatures and art were talking about. This was the explosive feeling, the anticipation, and the warmth you never knew was possible to feel all at once.
You breathed once Steve separated from your lips, his chest heaving as his eyes darkened. You didn’t know how you ended up in his bedroom without you feeling it, but Steve guided you. He would always guide you. Without breaking eye contact, Steve took off his shirt before you, his muscles rippling with his every move and he looked stronger without his clothes.
Steve looked like a warrior.
“Seriously,” you voiced out despite your breathy voice, “what do you do? Are you a model?”
Because how the fuck could he looked like that with a normal job? You meant- he wasn’t going to look like that if he was an accountant, right?
He chucked before stepping closer to you and you had no choice but to step back as he invaded your space, “Something like that.” His baritone voice answered you before gently pushing you on his bed, you bounced only once because before you knew it, he was on you again. His large body encaging you, his muscular thigh on each side of your hips preventing any movement from you.
“How are you so beautiful?” He quietly asked, his eyes soft as he breathed you in that you couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“I should be the one asking you that. I can’t believe you agreed-“
Steve cut you off with the touch of his lips, his kisses deep. He was just glad you chose him. He was the lucky one. His lips trailed to your neck, sucking lightly as he squeezed your breasts, heaving as you gasped when he bit a little too hard. Steve had never wanted to mark anyone as badly as he did you, he had always been gentle. But something about you made him feral, as if he had no better purpose than to possess you, to make you feel as wonderful as you made him feel. You froze when he reached your underwear. Steve paused and looked at you from between your legs.
“Okay?” He whispered, afraid that he had scared you with his intensity.
You nodded sheepishly, before telling him the truth. “I just- I don’t want you to be angry or disappointed,”
He was shaking his head before you could even finished. Steve crawled his huge body to yours, “What’s wrong?” He asked as he caressed your cheeks.
You bit your lip, your cheeks heating up, “Ihaveneverorgasmwithaman,”
“What?”
“I have never-“
“No, I understood. Why are you sorry?”
“Because..it’s not normal and I’m scared you’ll get mad. I just wanted to put it out there that if I don’t, then it’s not your fault.”
You looked up at him over your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction to your predicament. He was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours before he frowned, “I still don’t understand why you’re sorry. If they can’t do their job properly, then why are you the one sorry?”
You blinked owlishly at him, before being aware of your nudity and proceeded to cover yourself on his blanket only for him to wrench it away from you. His face darkened, why were you hiding yourself from him?
You gulped from the look on his face, before he leaned down, his lips moving against yours ever so deeply as if he never wanted to separate from you. You were so focused on his warmth that you didn’t notice his hand on its way to your pussy that you gasped when you felt him cupped your wetness.
“Those boys don’t know what to do with a precious gem like you,” he whispered hotly in your ear, his finger slowly rubbing your clit, massaging it so slowly that you didn’t know what to do but moan. “They don’t know how to treat this perfect pussy right-“ you felt his long finger in you, slowly inserting and twisting as it went inside. His thumb played with your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he whispered dirty promises in your ear. You were gushing embarrassingly fast that when he inserted another finger, that after he hit it just too right, you unbelievingly came. You back arched as he didn’t stop fingering you, even as he looked at you with wonder, strands of his hair falling on his forehead. “If only you could see you,” he growled as he quickened his movements, never giving you reprieve as you felt the coil snapped, bringing you to another pleasure. “I’m glad they never saw you like this. They might have never let you go.”
And he won’t.
You rested your hand on his hard chest, trying to push him away. “Wait-“ you tried catching your breath as you felt him crawled down to your pussy, as he spread your legs farther apart, as he used his shoulders to stop you from closing it, even as you covered your still quivering pussy from his lips.
“Yes, my little kitten?” He answered, his eyes focused your disheveled form.
“I’m Y/N,” you couldn’t believe you were introducing yourself to a man who just made you come twice.
“I know.”
“How?”
“I saw you ID.”
What? When?
“Now can you please remove your hand so I can finally eat my pussy?”
His what now?
“I’m still sensitiv-“
“Kitten,” his authoritative voice called out to you, letting you know that he meant business, “we have years to make up for your disappointing sex with disappointing boys. I take my job seriously, so can you please remove your hand from my pussy?”
And he ate you with gusto. His appreciative growls and moans adding to your pleasure, lapping at your pussy as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he had been craving you for so long. And when he inserted his tongue in you, his dark eyes at you, and as your impending orgasm came, his hands on your thighs tightened, preventing your from moving, And all you could do was to take what he was giving you.
“You are so receptive to me, kitten. Do you know what it does to a man?” You heard him asked, and you heard the buckle of his belt resounding to the quietness of the night, the sound of his zipper was so loud, the rustle of his pants as he stripped from them made you opened your eyes. You sat up sheepishly, his hand pumping his hard cock once, twice- his eyes never leaving yours even as your crawled away from him. There was no way that you could come again, despite your ages long dry-spell, coming numerous times in a row was intimidating you. “Steve-“
He cut you off he started crawling to you, his hard cock pointing to you. It was so big, and it looked so angry that you acted before you could think. You made it to the door, but you should know you couldn’t outrun a super soldier. You felt his large body behind you, his hard cock trapped between his abs and your back. “You know what it does to a man, little kitten? It makes him want to keep you, to possess you.
And that night, he did possess all of you.
“I swear Bucky, you have to do something about your best friend. It’s been more than a month and he acts so irritable I swear to God the agents are terrified of him,” Sam ranted to Steve’s best friend, Bucky. Well, maybe Bucky’s also Sam’s best friend but no one should know. Sam would not live the end of it.
Bucky hmmed, his eyes focused on his phone as he texted his little bird that he would be home in a few hours.
“Hey, are you listening?”
“Yes, Samuel. Steve is like that because he lost his little kitten when she was already in the grasp of his hand. And now he couldn’t find her.”
“Right. So why not just move on?” Sam pondered, he couldn’t understand how these men lost their ever-so loving mind over a woman. He meant, Bucky lived for work back then, so focused on his task that he thought nothing could fazed this man. Then entered, his little kitten. And now he lived and breathed to protect her. On the other hand, Steve was the most gentle and kindest soul Sam had ever met. He couldn’t even hurt anyone except when it was absolutely needed, always had the longest patience and was the voice of reason when Bucky found his little kitten.
But now, looked at him- brooding with his long hair that he had no more time to cut from looking for her everyday, snapping at the mistakes of the agent, and training them with intensity that made even Sam wary.
“Why should he? He’ll find her,” Bucky shrugged, unbothered by what was happening to his best buddy. “He wanted to join the military even when he was sickly and under qualified, and he did. He wanted to save the world despite the imminent danger, and he did. You should know, Sam. It’s only a matter of time before he finds her.”
“Find who?” Steve grumbled, his long legs carrying him inside the training area, his hair swept back.
Bucky flashed his best friend a smile, “Well, who else? Your little kitten. In the first place, you should have guarded her better.”
“What was he supposed to do, Bucky? Tie her up so she wouldn’t be able to escape the next morning?” Sam asked jokingly at the two men training with him.
“Maybe I should have.”
What?
“Capsicle,” Tony called from the door, gesturing for Steve. “You made another agent cry. I am so exhausted from putting out fires. First, it was Bucky with his insubordinate ass. But thank fuck he found his little bird and now he’s at least 47% better to work with. Now you, making our agents cry with your strictness and your rigorous training. I need you to lead this team and really lead it. What’s with you? Is it because of that girl? What should I do to return you to normal? What should I do to make you sane again, huh, cap? Should I find her myself? Is that what you want? Because I am so exhausted from placating our agents and listening to their complaints. What should I do? You want me to find her? DONE!”
Steve frowned, he was only half-listening to Tony’s tirade when what he said caught his attention. “What?”
“You’re welcome,” he drawled before rolling his eyes and turning his back on Steve, “I should be the irresponsible one! Stop making me the responsible one I hate it!”
Your eyes trained on your laptop screen as you continued your report on the medicine that your group had been working on. You had been busy for the past month and seeing the success of the medicine was making all the hours you spent working worth it. You sipped your coffee, the small coffee shop’s interior was somehow making you more productive. You returned your attention on your report, the caffeine hitting you just right. You were so immersed with finishing your work that you almost didn’t notice the huge man planting himself on the seat in front of you.
“Long time no see, my runaway kitten,”
Your eyes widened at that familiar voice, one that whispered sweet nothings in your ear more than a month ago. His blue eyes were hidden by his dark shades. You couldn’t see his eyes, and thank God you couldn’t because if you saw how intense his eyes were, there would be no doubt that you would run again. And he couldn’t let it happen the second time, could he? He watched you as you looked surprised by him. He reached for your coffee and took a sip of it, never straying his eyes from yours. “Nothing to say to me?”
“I’m sorry.. I don’t know the right protocol for what we did. I thought one should leave after the deed?” You asked, clearly confused. You meant, wasn’t that how one nights stands were supposed to go?
“Is that why you left?”
You nodded slowly. You had enjoyed the night you spent with him. He was extremely masculine, but nevertheless, he took care of you. He was gentle as he cuddled you, even as he cleaned you his touches were soft as if he never wanted to hurt you. You felt so cared for, so feminine that night that there was no doubt in your mind that you chose the right man that night.
But like all things, it had to come to an end.
Steve frowned. This could all have been avoided if only he cleared things with you, or if he held you tighter that night so you wouldn’t be able to leave. Nevermind, that would be the last time you left.
“So how’s work? How’s your modeling career?”
“Excuse me?”
“You told me you were a model,” you clarified with a smile on your face.
Steve cleared his throat, dodging your question. You were already skittish enough, what more if you finally knew who he was? No. He had to cement himself in your life first. That way, you wouldn’t be able to escape him that quickly.
“Do you find me attractive?” He inquired, throwing back to you what you asked him that night.
You frowned, of course you did. You meant, looked at him. There was no way he was real.
“Then do you want to go out with me?”
You paused. You liked him, you really did. But you didn’t think you were ready for a romantic relationship just yet. You smiled at him softly, reaching for his massive hand. “Steve,” you started before looking up at him, “I am not ready for a relationship right now.”
He considered what you said, his jaw clenching with the thought of not having you. But like anything he had ever wanted, he would find ways to get it.
He offered you a small smile, “I understand.”
You found yourself that same night plastered on his door, Steve’s muscular arms on either side of you as he kissed you, something he would make up for missing you for over a month. If you weren’t ready yet, Steve knew he could do other things to speed things up. He knew you were going to end up his, it was only a matter of time. He wasn’t above seducing you, little kitten.
You only needed a nudge.
And if that didn’t work, well… he could always accidentally forget protection.
You wouldn’t be able to leave the next day if you had a baby, right? No. If the public found out about you, the whole world would expect that Captain America would do the right thing by you. Steve would never have to wake up without you again.
Set in the same universe as Your Protector, Forever
#steve rogers one shot#possessive steve rogers#soft!dark steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#captain america fic#captain america x you#captain america smut#yandere steve rogers
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modern!han hc's f!reader – compilation of thots shared in the dms with @harrisonbrainrot
my playlist my pins ✻ bex’s pins (playlist coming soon)
each updated regularly! nsfw under the cut
sfw
✻ STUPIDLY smart, talented, & knowledgeable. can tell you what’s wrong with your car just by listening to it, can identify a plane in the sky by the sound, can give you exact directions from anywhere to anywhere in the city. started college, didn’t finish.
✻ his day job is a mechanic and sometimes framing. general handyman. if you need a job done, he can do it. definitely the type to say “don’t pay somebody, i got it, jesus…” & immediately fixes shit for you
✻ lando is a detailer, washing & waxing, but what people come to him most for is his pin-striping and airbrushing. very creative eye. definitely has locs. works across the street from the mechanic shop han works at & you KNOW they send each other business
✻ good friends, but not best friends. criminal, scoundrel bastards who go way back. lando gambles & drug deals on the side, han drug deals & gambles on the side.
✻ han is VERY good at poker. won his car (classic red chevy bel-air) from lando. bad bet. lando is still bitter. han takes good care of her tho.
✻ fridge is consistently empty. he usually eats at bars and gatherings and rarely at home, & if he does, it’s quick & easy, like TV dinner & beer. but that doesn’t mean he can’t cook
✻ falls asleep on the couch 5 days out of the week. bed is used for fucking alone, until you come along. bed is used for sleeping more.
✻ very affectionate texter for a 30-something year old man. will send you cute pics when he’s missing you or thinking of you (see: the pinterest. ask me for my faves PLEASE!!!!).
✻ generally more romantic than you’d expect him to be. leaves little notes in any notebooks you have laying around, take you to gorgeous spots just to smoke on top of his car, light candles & play music when you fuck.
✻ more nurturing & caring than he recognizes himself to be or lets himself come off as. will convince you to stay holed up in his house as much as possible & do as little as possible while you’re on your period so he can have you around to take care of (and fuck) all week long. surprisingly good at comforting you through tough times. very broken man with a lot of love to give if you let him. secretly soft-centered
✻ psychedelic camping trips. that’s it that’s the whole hc
✻ exclusively drinks mexican coke. if not alcohol, or water because it’s technically necessary for life, it’s a glass bottled mexican coke.
✻ despite his love for beer, he knows how to enjoy a good cocktail.
nsfw
✻ rarely wears underwear. too much laundry, and too many layers to put on and take off.
✻ similarly, only wears button flys. no zipper to dig in to his bulge, and they just pop right open too easily. he stays ready.
✻ absolutely loves to get messy & filthy, especially when he’s been drinking. does not shy away from spit; will spit in your mouth, let you spit in his, spit right on you or himself as lube & smear it with his hand. loves covering your face in cum, tasting himself on your mouth or the cigarette you share afterward
✻ loves false lashes for that^ reason. more on that here
✻ loves booty shorts. pajamas, daisy dukes, anything. the tease of just barely seeing the curve of your ass, being able to sneak his fingers inside you without undressing you, feeling your skin and seeing the reddening of your ass when he smacks it
✻ keeps his nails short, neat, and cleanly. any version of han solo is incredible at and prone to fingering you at any given moment. again, he stays ready.
✻ loves being call sir, daddy, boss, professor. any authoritative figures. it’s validating to feel like you trust him to lead you, to know you’re listening to him. obviously it also makes him hard to have you ready, willing & desperate to meet his every command. anything from the obedient ‘yes, sir’ or ‘please, daddy’ to the teasing ‘whatever you say, boss’ or ‘sure thing, professor’ is enough to get his blood pumping
✻ exhibitionist. especially if he’s been drinking; he will fuck you anywhere. car sex. outside sex. sneaky bar oral under the table, holding you close with his legs and a hand to the back of your head, muffling his own sounds with a tight jaw as he cums down your throat. party sex, making out against a wall and shoving your dress up your thighs, swallowing your moans with his mouth as he fuck into you hard & quick. “everybody’s gonna see what a filthy fucking slut you are for me if you can’t keep your mouth shut, sweetheart. needed it right here, huh? couldn’t even wait to get home to take my cock. so needy, lucky i can’t resist this little pussy.”
✻ QUICKIES!! at parties, bar crawling, will lean and whisper in your ear: ‘wanna step out?’ and you can hear in the tone of his voice what it is he wants. bend you over a sink, pin you against the door, have you coming apart under him in 15 minutes or less every time. always leaves him feeling refreshed and energized.
✻ definitely a voyeur. total show off. has multiple mirrors in his bedroom to watch you both while you fuck. he likes mutual masturbation, but what he likes more is for you to just watch him. seeing the needy look in your eye as he strokes himself right by your face, how badly you want to touch him, to touch yourself, but he won’t let you, only letting you look at him as his cock starts to drip, working himself up while he watches the wet spot in your panties spread in the mirror behind you
✻ loves leaving marks on you, very possessive and territorial: hickies, red marks on your ass, creampies. similarly being marked: scratches, hickies, lipstick stains. he loves to feel like he belongs to somebody & like you belong to him.
✻ loves to take pics of you. will pose you to the exact image in his mind, real filthy, but tasteful, playboy magazine xxx style. keeps a foldout of you in his wallet.
would absolutely elaborate on any of these. definitely not all the thoughts we’ve had but some good highlights. hope y’all love him as much as we do
#han solo x reader smut#modern!han#han solo smut#han solo x reader#han solo headcanons#alternate universe#au
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Golden Lies 3
PART 1 PART 2
Interviews.. Dazzling people.. Making people like you.. That's the game that you were playing tonight. Really you figured it wouldn't be hard, you were going to the whole ‘protecting the innocent’ and ‘here with my best friend’ thing. Which was what the two of you had done, so it wasn't a stretch. The biggest thing would be wording things correctly. Making sure that what you said didn't offend anyone, or cause upset.
You paid close attention to the crowd while Lavanna and the others dressed you. The TV was on so you could see and listen to them as Caesar warmed them up for the show. You watched as the careers went, saying things like ‘yes I've been ready for this my whole life’. Or ‘I'll see you in a few weeks because I am going to win this’.
Boring.. They must learn their lines at the academy too because they sound exactly alike. You were saddened when the tributes from four got on the stage though. The girl was terrified, speaking so quietly that she could barely be heard. The boy talked about how he was going to do his best to protect his friend but didnt think they would last long.
It really sunk in that you weren't the only one who had really committed to the fact that you were going to die. While it was a similar situation to yours, you knew that you could get so much further than them. You prayed through, to whoever was listening that their death was quick and as painless as possible. You also wondered if Finnick worked with them at all.
He annoyingly had been on your mind today, for whatever reason. The way he watched you whenever you were both in the same room. How when Hardin needed your help with the sugar cubes, Finnick didn't bother you. He didn't ask questions or call anyone over, he just stood there and waited.
His gorgeous green eyes were stuck in your head and you hated it. But you could push it far enough aside to deal with the things at hand, like your outfit for interviews. It was gorgeous and something you never pictured yourself wearing. Light gold in color except for the sheer bodice, that had lace and gold fabric strategically placed to cover your boobs. Your sides, most of your stomach, shoulders and back were exposed.
The zipper up the back had lace appliques to hide it, while there were still some shiny crystals here and there. The bottom was full and large, layers upon layers one gold and sheer tulle making it up. The top sheer layer had the same crystals from the top of the dress and the bottom had black swallowtail butterflies and monarch butterflies. They fluttered softly, opening and closing their wings.
Your hair was up in a chunky braided wreath around your head. It had lavender and olive branches weaved into it, it gave the effect that you had a crown on. Your make up was dramatic again, gold lid with black brushed around the outside. Big wing and false lashes again, but this time your lips were painted. Gold on one side and black on the other, meeting and mixing in the middle.
It was quiet in the room, your scoring last night was low which is what you wanted. You had received a five and Hardin a six, the team thought you were upset with it. But it was all part of the plan. They knew you had thrown that spear, but they didn't know if it was beginner's luck or if you were trained somehow.
You knew if you could get to a bag and a weapon during the bloodbath, you could get away and survive. It was getting both you and Hardin supplies and getting away that would be the problem. The silence was nice though, calming and relaxing as they tinkered with this or that making sure that everything was perfect.
Lavanna walked you out to the hall where some of the others were waiting. Even those who had already interviewed were waiting around for it to all be over. There was quiet chatter talking about what to say or not too say. Talking about who did well so far and who still needed to go.
The girl from four pointed as you came into the hall, whispering to Mags about how the butterflies on your dress seemed to be alive. You didn't want to give away the surprise that Lavanna had told you about, but you couldn't resist seeing the 12 year old smiling. Lavanna nodded to you when you turned to beg with your eyes.
So you bent down, stuck a finger under one of the black butterflies causing it to crawl onto you. You held it in the palm of your hand as you made your way over to her and Mags. When you reached her you leaned down and held your free hand out. When the young girl laid her hand in your palm you guided the butterfly from your palm to hers. She squealed with excitement as it stayed there just fluttering its wings.
“If it's ok with your mentors you can keep it. Take it up to your room with you.” You said smiling at her, when she looked up at Mags with the best puppy dog eyes you had ever seen. Mags laughed and nodded before pointing at Finnick “You'll have to ask him too.” The young blond girl's face dropped, shoulders sinking in disappointment.
But you lifted her face with your hand and smiled again. “I'll go ask him for you, promise I won't take no for an answer.” She jumped up and down a little as she watched you walk over to where Finnick and the 13 year old boy were talking. The boy's eyes widened and his mouth opened a little as he watched you walk over, which caught Finnicks attention.
He sucked in a breath when he turned to look at you, he couldn't figure out what he liked the most. The dress and the way it clung to your top but flowed around at the bottom. The way your hair and makeup was done, it was all perfect to him. He quickly shut his own mouth and slammed his walls back up, turning up the charm and down the feelings. “Well well well.. You must be going for the Goddess of the Capitol.. Very smart choice if I'm allowed to say so.”
You smiled at his words, hating that you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You waved at the boy who gasped, waved back and then ran off to find Maggie. “Sorry about him, he's clearly scared of gorgeous women.” Finnick said again as you turned away from watching his tribute and back to him. That's where he wanted your attention, on him.
You nodded, choosing to not respond to his comment but answer the first statement. “Anyways, you're allowed to speak your opinion freely if you allow your tribute to keep the butterfly I gifted her.” You both turned to look back at her, Finnick hadn't even noticed you go over there. He had been so wrapped up in trying to calm his boy down. He quickly put together that it was a butterfly from your dress. He nodded over at the group, causing her to shriek in happiness before running off with the boy.
Neither of you would admit that your hearts squeezed knowing that she would probably be dead tomorrow. When they were gone, you noticed Haymitch and Lavanna standing with Hardin and Cress. All four were watching you talk to Finnick, and Haymitch didn't look too happy about it. Finnicks hand on your wrist brought your eyes back to him. He spoke quietly “You look gorgeous. Y/n you could win this if you're smart.. 1 and 2 are still after you and your friend.. Be careful. I wish I could help you more.”
He squeezed your wrist, then smirked at you and walked away winking at Lavanna on his way.
The group quickly made their way towards you all speaking over each other in different tones.
“What did he want? Was he trying to scare you?” In a slightly annoyed tone from Haymitch.
“Did he hurt you? Or threaten you!” In a worried tone from Hardin.
“OH MY GOD! You were just touched by Finnick Odair! I wouldn't wash that arm if it were me!” In an excited tone from Cress.
“I can't believe he just winked at me.. Who does he think he is?” From Lavanna in a disgusted tone.
They all turned and looked at each other for different reasons. Before anyone could speak an avox came up and pointed toward you, then the stage. It was your turn next and you needed to get into place. “We will talk about it later, I'm fine though.” Was all you could get out before the Avox was making grunting noises at you and pointing aggressively, probably scared to not get you to your place on time.
Your heels clicked softly as you walked to the X, you really were running behind because you barely paused on it before Caesar was welcoming you to the stage. The light was slightly blinding as you smiled and waved, blowing a few kisses to those in the front row. “Wow, Wow!” He said as he grabbed your hand, the two of you sitting down.
You bent your knee lifting one leg to cross the other, but had to move slowly to not disturbed the butterflies. When the crowd settled a little Caesar got right into it. “I think everyone's first question is about the girl you volunteered for.” You nodded and looked down, allowing tears to fill your eyes before you looked back up.
“Cissa.. She's my neighbor, she had just turned 12 the day before. She's such a kind soul and her family has done so much for me. I work in the fields you see, sun up to sun down during the season. And her mother and the children take care of my very old, very sick grandparents while I'm gone.”
The crowd awed a little as Caesar nodded, “So this was your way of thanking them. By saving their daughter from the reaping.” You nodded enthusiastically while carefully thinking about your next sentence. “But if I can tell you a secret.. I mean we are amongst friends right?” You held a hand out and looked towards the crowd.
They all started screaming ‘YES’ as Caesar looked at you, he then nodded “I guess so.. So what's your secret?” You both leaned forward just a little like you were really sharing a secret and not just saying something on national television. You held one hand up almost to your mouth “I volunteered for a selfish reason as well.” When Caesar flew back into his chair dramatically, his mouth was wide open in mock shock.
You leaned back slightly still sitting up straight, and nodded a tight lipped smile as you looked over the crowd. You shrugged a little before speaking again, “I may have wanted to come and win for my district. There isn't any Victor right now for 9 and I wanted the internal glory.” The crowd started cheering loudly again as Caesar nodded saying that none of them would tell your secret. He was very good at his job, keeping up with whatever shenanigans you threw out.
“So our next question is about your district parenter, Hardin, was it? How do you know each other?”
You nodded turning to look back at him with a smile, he gave you a thumbs up before you turned back around. There was a genuine smile on your face when you started speaking of him. “We met when he was walking around our district. Ended up being in the same school together and when we were old enough they placed us in the fields together. They always said we just worked well with each other. That big meat head is my best friend, I don't know what I would do without him. But I'm kind of sad we are both here.”
Caesar looked at you with a confused smile, “Well why would you be sad? That means that you can protect each other?”
You nodded, “Well yes and don't get me wrong, Caesar I am so thankful that I will have him in there with me. But that means if I win, when I go home he won't be there. And then I'll be alone.” Real tears this time came and one streaked down your cheek as the crowd awed. You were now thinking about how alone he would feel if your plan succeeded and he won. He would have to live with knowing you killed yourself to get him home.
Then he would have to come and train kids to go into the games, over and over again.
Caesar patted your hand in fake sympathy, “But you will have all new friends from here. And we won't ever let you be alone, will we folks!” He says turning back to the crowd with a wide mouthed loud laugh. You both smiled as you thanked them a few times, “Well Our little goddess, our time is up! But I think we will be seeing you again.” When you both stood you held one finger up as Caesar looked at you questioningly.
“I have a small gift, a token of my gratitude if you will for my friends here. If that's ok with you of course Caesar.” The crowd started screaming as Caesar looked up to his bosses. When they nodded Caesar nodded to you, taking a small step back as you grabbed the top few layers of your dresses skirt. Careful to leave most of the tulle down to cover your legs, you held the top layers up. “Caesar, could you actually help me, hold the back up please.”
Caesar quickly moved, ecstatic to be part of whatever show you were putting on. “Now we are just going to push down on the count of three. Kinda hard, Ok?” When he nodded looking around at the crowd with a funny face, you laughed and counted down. “1… 2…. 3!”
You both pushed down, you bending at the knees as all the butterflies that had covered the bottom of your dress flew into the air. The crowd that was cheering for Caesar or yelling was now screaming. The adults fighting over the butterflies that flew into the crowd. Pushing and shoving others out of their way as they tried to snatch them out of the air. One landed on Caesars suit jacket, and just stayed there like it was a pin. “WOW! That was amazing! Thank you so much Y/n!” You bowed a little before making your way off stage.
Lavanna was waiting for you at the bottom of a few stairs, she encased you in a huge hug as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “That was wonderful, you did so so well, darling!” As soon as you were out of her arms, Haymitch was clapping again. “Sweetheart, I don't know where you pulled that out of but you just keep on impressing me. My guys don't stand a chance.. But you.. You got something kid.. I hope to see you on the other side.”
When he walked away you heard the crowd screaming for Hardin, who was in a black suit with a gold tie that had much smaller black butterflies printed on it. “Hello, Hello! I must say, your district mate is a hard act to follow! But I'm sure we will have a great time!” They both laughed and crossed their legs after shaking hands.
“So how is it being in the Capitol veris being at home?” Hardin smiled and pretended like he was thinking “Really it's just amazing how big and brightly colored everything is here. The people are much more welcoming and loving than I thought and I absolutely adore all of you for that.” He brought both hands up to his mouth and blew kisses towards the crowd. They were literally eating shit out of his hands.
“It of course helps having Y/n here” Hardin said as the crowd calmed down from the kisses. Caesar nodded “Yes, I think we all can tell you are very close. Is there.. Anything.. Romantic going on there we should know. Amongst friends of course.” Caesar held up one hand to his heart, waiting to hear another district 9 secret.
But Hardin laughed, holding both hands while he shook his head. “No offense to Y/n, she's a very pretty girl of course. But she's my best friend. If I had to label it I would say she's my platonic soulmate. It's really sad that I won't be able to stay with her for long during the games. I just hope I can protect her for as long as possible before I become a burden.”
The crowd scoffed, as if offended by the insinuation that he could be a burden. Caesar did too “How could you ever be a burden! Look at you!” Hardin shook his head, leaning forward and wiping tears from his eyes. From the TV you couldnt tell if they were real or fake but it didn't matter. “I have a condition, there's a medication I have to take every morning to control it. If I don't take it, then I get sweaty and disoriented. After a day or two my body starts to shut down. It's said to be very painful and the end comes with hallucinations.”
The crowd gasped, some yelling that he shouldn't have to go into the games. “Unfortunately I won't be able to take my meds into the arena with me. So I will probably only last a few days, but in those few days I hope to make things as easy for Y/n to win as possible.” Just as he finished speaking the buzzer went off, Caesar looked genuinely conflicted. Like he was trying to decide if he thought Hardin should be here or not.
But he quickly recovered, stood, said a few more words to the crowd rehyping them up, shook his hand and shooed him off stage.
~
~
~
@avis15 @liballer @avoxrising
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I’m rewatching season 9 of Supernatural and it’s making me crave Cas fics. Maybe something where the reader met him as Steve but now he’s back to full angel mojo
Can I Get A Large Slushie?
Season 9 Castiel x Black! Reader
Warnings: drunk reader, heartbreak (on readers end), reader and Cas don't end up together romantically, it's more so an experience, i don't know why I can't write Cas that way but I think he's literally just too majestic for me. He's also weirdly hard for me to write so I'm sorry this isn't one of my better works
1.7k words
Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! Also sorry this took so long, I got really busy </3
She could still remember that day like it was yesterday. The cold afternoon breeze that blew over her arms that night. The night when it was the beginning of everything she ever knew changed.
Drunk tears streamed down her face, her white dress a muddled mess around her lower body. It was supposed to be her night. It was supposed to be for her, with her friends and family all there to celebrate her engagement. Yet, after half an hour, her ex-fiance was caught with his pants around his ankles and buried in her aunt Nella. All she could do was run. She ran out of that party like a bat out of hell. Where was she even going? Perhaps her location was the gas station.
She ran, until she abandoned her heels in her purse, her flask was empty and the Sun had long since set behind her.
Then she was there. Tipsy, depressed and at a gas station. Mascara streamed down her dark skin in big gooey chunks, and she wanted to rip off her false lashes. Even her wig was bothering her. A chilled breeze blew through the night sky, and she shivered. Rubbing her arms up and down her soft skin she looked up through tear filled lashes at the glowing sign.
If there was any place to wait for her Uber, she supposed it was better than the street. The door felt cold against her bare arms. Looking back, it was a cold night. That night gave her a distinct fondness for the cold. The AC blasted over her, as she looked around. The whiteness of the room blinded her. She called her Uber, probably the least important aspect of her night. She saw him then.
He was standing near the slushie machine, he was certainly handsome. Tall, with brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and pink lips. Perhaps if she wasn’t spending unnecessary time worrying about a man who cracked her heart in two, she would’ve taken a chance with him.
Sliding next to him, she glanced down at her phone again ‘Mickey, 8 minutes away’. How she wished she had more than those eight minutes.
“Is there something you need ma’am?” The voice startled her. She wasn’t expecting him to speak, in her 29 years of living she can’t really remember ever speaking to a gas station attendant.
“Yeah…can I get a large slushie?” She slurred and hiccuped. Oh what a fool she made of herself! If she could go back, she would’ve gone in there perfectly sober and asked for more than a slushie from him.
“Sure, you know if you mix 50% red and 50% blue together it’ll make a perfect shade of purple? Most people end up with either too much red or blue, so if we fill it up to the top of the ‘e’ with the first color, it’ll be a perfect 50%, and the rest will make it a perfect mix.” He enthused, pulling out a cup but dropping a few more on the ground. She flailed in an attempt to grab them, and she followed suit. After a few ungraceful moments her slushie was being poured, half red and half blue. Then, he (with a shocking amount of enthusiasm) shook up her drinking and placed a gorgeous colored concoction.
Maybe it was the liquor that did her in. The liquor that brought tears to her eyes, and made her start to cry once more.
“This is the nicest thing ever, thank you…” with a squint, she leaned in and read his name tag. “Steve. That’s a nice name, I knew a guy named Steve once. He was great, you know. He was a nice guy, dude smelled funky though.” With a pathetic whimper, Steve chuckled and led her away to the cash register.
For some reason, her heart thumped in her chest. Perhaps from the copious amounts of casamigos thrumming through her blood.
“Well hopefully, he smells better now.” Steve chuckled and she took a long and hard sip from her slushie, the cold freezing over her pained heart. With a swipe of her credit card, her slushie was paid for.
“I hope you have a better night than you’ve been having so far.” Steve grinned widely and she chuckled. A smile came over her sore features. How tired she was. Even talking hurt but in her drunken state it was all she wanted to do.
“Why thank you Steve, you’re such a sweetie pie! Oh but my night can’t get better. My life can’t either.” She sighed, laying her arm and head onto the counter. She can still recall Steve’s blue eyes glancing over her face.
“My fiance, or ex, or uncle or something. He plowed my aunt at our engagement party. Sure she’s only like six years older, but that’s still so weird. He already had me, who goes for a downgrade? Here I am. Sad, drunk, kind of sleepy. This slurpee is really good, thank you so much.” Her rant left her out of breath. He really was an angel, to listen to her depressing details of her life. A sigh that seemingly deflated her body made Steve rest his chin on his hands.
“Huh…I’m sorry that happened to you.” The response was earnest.
“I’m sorry it happened to me too.” Whipping tears from her eyes, and the streaks of mascara from her eyes. Her phone buzzed, ‘Mickey has arrived’.
“My Uber’s here.” She swallowed another giant gulp of her slushie.
“Okay, have a nice night!” Steve waved as the woman blinked in confusion, pushing herself off the countertop.
“You’re a very cheerful gentleman.” She waved back with a giggle and stumbled off into the night.
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The next time she saw him, it was two weeks later. She went back to the store, craving yet another perfect slushie, and exhausted from the moving process. After kicking her ex to the curb, she was finally completely moved out. A nice little apartment that she’d spend the next three years off her life in even though she didn’t know it yet.
Pushing open the door, the AC blasted against her warm skin once more.Her beeline to the slushie machine was quick, and before she knew it she was faced to face with Steve again.
“Hello there Steve.” He turned around, and grinned at her with a level of excitement someone who loved their job could have.
“Good afternoon, how are you doing today?” He asked her. Something about him drew her in. What was it though? Was it his generosity? Was it his simple naivety? No, but what was it?
“I’m doing just fine.” With a chuckle, she swiped her card. And feeling brand new from just being near Steve for some reason, she went on about her day.
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It had gotten to the point where if you cut her open, she would’ve bled that delicious purple she’d been consuming on a near daily basis. Their conversations, about essentially nothing, were just filled with sweet nothings. It was like speaking to a person with a pure view. For a moment, just a moment each day, it cleared her mind of all the pain she’d been forced to endure. Until one day, Steve’s innocent glee was missing.
“Are you alright Steve?” She asked, while grabbing a pack of gum while she shook her cup around.
“I’m just thinking. Can I ask you something?” He took the gum from her and ran it over the scanner. Taking it back, she pulled out six dollars and prepared for her change.
“Sure, I’ve asked you plenty of questions.”
“When you know you belong somewhere else doing something else, but you’re forced to be something you don’t want to be, what do you do?” A silence settled between the two of them.
“I think you should do what you’re meant to do the best way you can. Even if you can’t do it the same way anymore.” She responded, sliding her gum into her purse.
“I think so too.” He gave her a tight lipped smile and a small wave goodbye. It was the last time for a while that she would see Steve.
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The next time it was six weeks later. Life moved on of course. She still had slushie’s just not as often. Without Steve, there was no point in going every day. Still her heart couldn’t forget him. Nothing ever happened between the two. Nothing more than thoughtful and absent minded conversations. Still he left some sort of gap in her heart.
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“Hi there, my name is Jack Matherson, this is my partner David Kendall. We’re detectives looking into the break in across the street, may we come in?” But when she saw ‘David’ her entire world melted. Instead it was Steve. At her flower shop, standing next to a very handsome man.
“Sure…sure of course you can.” The two stepped in, and Steve or David or whatever his name was seemed to barely notice her. There he was right there, and this entire time she had been wondering where he had gone. What had happened to that silly guy from the gas station? Now here he was, a very well dressed cop in a trench coat.
He looked far more serious now, as if he was intent on whatever his mission was. Even the air around him felt far more cleansing. More so like whatever she had done in her life was judged and forgiven in his presence. He walked around absentmindedly, whispering to his green eyed partner. For a fast moment, they made eye contact.
“Hello there, it’s good to see you again.” She swallowed thickly. Was his voice always so gruff? Was this the thing he wanted to do the best way he could? It seemed like it, the way he was so domineering in the strangest way.
“You too.” With a quick nod, she slipped away into the back. Now she curses herself, for running away from someone who made her feel so oddly full. Not complete, but like a part of her was added, one that she never even knew she wanted.
Now, she was slurping on a large slurpee, her tongue staining purple and she sat on her window sill. Years later, she still thinks about him. She still thinks about how his energy brought many changes. Something about him illuminated something…untouchable? Unique. No, divine. Divine was the only word that could be used to describe the feeling that the presence of Steve brought.
Now she was sitting at her window sill, slurpy finished, and missing that feeling and her Steve more than anything.
#x black reader#black reader#x reader#fem reader#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural#castiel#supernatural x you#castiel x reader#castiel x you
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Gyaru!reader x Connie Maheswaran (wlw)
ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ
It was honestly just love at first sight when she first saw you, your hair was gorgeous with (f/c) tips and the way you had it tied up (or not) was so cute! It really matched your face and eyes.
The accessories you wore matched your outfit as well, the cute hello kitty themed ones were definitely her favourite. Her parents would definitely not like the outfit you were wearing, you had way too much skin showing and they would not approve but she didn't care.
Your cute little pink cheetah print shirt revealing your shoulders and the tight, black and very short jean shorts matched almost perfectly. Your cute little white fluffy leg warmers with platformed heels made you stick out in the crowd and many people were looking at you but you didn't care as you texted away on your heavily accessorized (f/c) flip phone. Your long nails shining in the sunlight as you held the phone to your ear, talking to someone on the phone.
"Fine! Cancel our plans for your supposed best friend! I'm done with you and your excuses!" You exclaimed into your phone, flipping it close and stomping down the broadwalk to Fun Land.
Connie just stuttered as she watched you walk away, seeing that you dropped one of your cute accessories from your outfit. She immediately leapt to grab it and she chased after you, trying to call your name but you kept moving as if you were ignoring her.
You were actually trying your best to not cry, the stinging feeling of tears burning in your eyes made it worse as the feeling of pain burned in your heart, the feeling of your heart shattering in pieces as you saw many other couples walking in and out of Fun Land, arms linked or holding hands just made you feel like shit.
It didn't take long for you to just storm off onto the sand and sit by one of the pillars, sitting down and you felt the tears just rolled down, ruining the makeup that took you so long to put on just roll down with it. You wiped your eyes with the back of your one hand, smudging and smearing the makeup everywhere as you flipped open your phone again and stared at it unaware of the sound of approaching footsteps crunching on the sand.
Connie followed you, weaving through the crowd as she held the cute charm in her hand, she wondered if you were alright since you sounded upset from your phone call. Maybe her significant other hurt her in some way? Maybe she was thinking too much into it- all she needed to do was find you and return your charm and maybe talk to you? It can't be that hard right.. Right?
She soon found you, hiding underneath one of the many pillars holding the broad walk up. You still looked absolutely breathtaking to her, your eyes red and puffy with tears and the sight of your smeared makeup only made her question further if you were okay and she slowly approached you.
"Sorry- I saw you drop this."
She was standing in front of you, her hand out with your charm and you looked at the charm and then at her. You let out a small sniffle and stare at her and wipe your tears away one more time and you take it from her.
"Thank you.. I'm sorry that you have to see me like this."
You laugh nervously, hooking the charm back on your flip phone.
"I'm (y/n) by the way."
Connie stared at you and she took a seat next to you, a bold move on her part and she smiles a bit.
"Connie."
Your eyes are fixed on hers and you break the intense staring competition, the feeling of hurt returning for a moment and you let out a small sigh.
"I don't want to bore you with my story if you want to know."
You said, you wanted to tell someone, to show someone how much of an asshole your now ex is to you but you don't want your friends to say 'they told you so'
"I don't mind, it'll be good to get things off your chest."
Connie says softly, her eyes sparkled as she watched you sigh once again and wipe your eyes with your hand and that only made your makeup worse, your false lashes seeming to be peeling off.
"Well it first started with my dumb ex! He/she made this new friend y'know and he/she told me not to worry about them, that they are just a friend and that I am overreacting! Then he/she is always making plans and being around them then me- his/her own girlfriend."
You let out a defeated noise, the tears bubbling in your eyes once again and you feel a comforting hand on your back.
"He/she cancelled plans once again today and left me alone here and I'm just tired of it."
You let out a loud sob and Connie can't help but feel bad for you, she was rubbing soothing circles on your back trying her best to comfort you. She has never been in a situation like this before and she had no words other than an apology.
"It's alright, you weren't the one that even hurt me."
You just sat there in silence for a while but it was a comforting silence as you guys watched the waves crash against the sand. The sun setting causing the surroundings to be basked in a wonderful warm red almost pink glow and it was relaxing and it almost made you feel at peace.
"Thank you- uhm Connie for listening to me and staying."
You finally said, breaking the silence and you handed her your phone.
"I'd like to get your number so we can maybe do something different? Like get some coffee or something?"
You said, with a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest.
After you exchanged numbers and bid farewell, you had left to get home before your parents/caretakers were worried you had died or something, Connie was ecstatic- she made friends with someone new! Someone so pretty and had a really cool fashion sense that it made her heart want to explode- was this some sort of crush? She wondered but she didn't care! She was just so happy as she giggled, laying on the sand looking at your contact number with glee! Maybe this relation would blossom into something amazing?
I don't know if I should make a part two in celebration for Pride Month but PLEASEEE let me know! Also all constructive criticism and tips are always welcomed! 🩷
#steven universe#steven universe x reader#connie mahaswaren#connie mahaswaren x reader#is it mahaswaren? or mahaswaran?#lesbian#third fanfic#imma kms#pride month
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MY WORD IS MY BOND
Part Three: But you had to have him, and so you did
I stomp around the house, fuming at my inner witch. I think about breakfast but I don't want to eat anything made by me in this negative mood, I'd be able to taste the self-disappointment. Chance snoozes in a patch of sunshine streaming through my windows, belly full, heart happy. I reach down and scratch behind her ears and she lets out a long, slow rumble of appreciation. She has no clue her human mum is a top-tier moron.
I make myself another iced coffee and bring it to my bedroom with me, along with my half-smoked joint, to get ready. I grab my makeup bag and bring it to the floor with me. Sitting crossed leg in front of my large mirror, I switch on the lights that surround the frame and go to work. I do a pale pink smokey eye, winged black eyeliner, and some lip balm. I contemplate some false lashes before deciding on the affirmative and putting on my usual OTT pair. I take the black eyeliner and draw some dots along my bottom waterline and brows.
Once I'm happy with my face I pull the bobble out of my ponytail and my hair tumbles around my shoulders. Most of it turned white a few years ago, during a pretty chaotic time of my life and it never went back to its dirty blonde. I make the most of the blank canvas, currently pastel pink on the ends. I style my curls into a half up half down do and pin a silver hair brooch with a triple goddess emblazoned on it.
Before choosing my clothes I check my phone, for the first time since last night, and blanch as I see five text messages and ten missed calls.
STELLA:
WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU GONE?!
I saw Dreamy McBrowneyes leave them you were gone after, did you go home?
Are you alive???
Shit are you actually ok message me back
if you don't answer me by the time I wake up tomorrow I'm calling the FBI
I tap my reply to her quickly, nails clicking on the screen
I'm so sorry, I am alive. I came home and conked out. I will fill you in later, love you.
Ps we're English, I don't think we have any FBI, stop watching Criminal Minds
My phone pings with her reply almost instantly
the only thing that would stop me is if they scrubbed Criminal Minds from the earth, even then I'd just close my eyes and play it all in my head
ps I'm glad you've not been murdered and/or eaten X
Choice phrasing, the universe is mocking me.
I open my wardrobe and stare at it for a whole minute, looking but not seeing anything. I select a black tiered skirt, that falls to just below my knees, my favourite black Paramore tee, and a black knitted cardigan with little pink toadstools all over it.
I am a fat witch, I prefer the term chunky, but to be real I am fat. And gorgeous.
I adorn myself with my jewelry, each one with some sort of magickal tie, something that can help or protect me in some way. As I place on the necklace I forgot yesterday my mind wanders to Eddie.
Stop it.
I give myself a quick look in the mirror before exiting my room and heading for the door. As I let myself out of the flat Elphaba, my black, flat-faced cat, is sat on the railing of the stairs, waiting to be let in. She glares at me.
"Where have you been, you dirty stop out?" I hold the door open for her and she trots in tail flicking. "Leave Chance alone whilst I'm gone"
I close the door behind me and head down into the shop.
The shop is basically a larger version of my craft room, with rosewood shelves everywhere, filled with various bits and bobs. I sell ingredients and ready-made spell jars. Most of my customers are non-witches but I do have the occasional magickal customer too.
The day is mostly noneventful, I sell a lot of ingredients used in health potions and health spells, which is standard as the weather starts to turn cold. Spells and potions sold to nonmagickal folk do work and make a difference, but in a more subtle way without the inner magic to amplify or activate properly.
There's an hour left of opening hours when my phone pings. I pick it up thinking it's going to be Stella.
I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'd really like a chance to show you I have no ulterior motive other than getting to know you. I hope you got home safe - Eddie.
I feel nauseous. I had been so intrigued, so drawn to him over the last few weeks. I sensed him when he was near, felt - what? Safe? Surely not. So drawn. This was not what it felt like with the other vampires I'd met. The circumstances in which I'd met other vampires were very different. I was usually roped into warning any vampires if they wandered into any coven territory. Not being in a coven myself, it made sense for me to be the middle ma, middle witch? I was also known as a particularly powerful witch, so I was fine to go alone.
I had no reason to trust him, but I wanted to.
His dark eyes kept popping up in my head, the goofy smile, the loud laugh. I wanted to know him before and I wanted to know him even more now.
But it was a massive risk.
For a vampire, the lifeblood of a witch is the ultimate feed. The magic in our blood makes them permanently faster, and stronger and has been known to occasionally pass on abilities to the drinker. I've also heard a vampire describe what our blood tasted like, and the more powerful the witch, the better the drinking.
I serve my last customer before picking back up my phone.
I got home safe, thank you. I don't really how I can give you a fair chance without putting myself in mortal peril, I don't see how it would work.
I start my closing duties, ignoring the phone as it pings. I ignore the huge urge I have to immediately read and respond. I want to talk to him.
Idiot.
I busy myself cleaning all the shelves, scrubbing floors, and doing the stock take, even though I did it last week. I grab my and some lavender from the stockroom to top up my home supply before closing the shutters and heading upstairs. I get Chance in her collar and out for a walk, eager for all the distractions.
By the time I'm home, it's almost nine and I am exhausted. I get in my pyjamas, roll myself a joint, and order a Chinese. I switch on Community, light up and pick up the phone finally. There are two messages.
I know you have no reason to trust me, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for weeks - Eddie
I know that's exactly something someone who wants to suck your blood would say but I swear that's not the case - Eddie
Despite myself, I giggle. I can't help but think about how old he is, signing off his name that after each text.
It is exactly something someone would want to eat me would say. PS, you don't have to sign your name off, I will add your number.
I feel myself grin as I type. Stop it, Lilith.
Does this mean you want to keep talking to me?
What was I doing?
Maybe.
There's a slightly longer pause between his next message.
Can I call you?
#eddie#eddie munson#stranger things#joseph quinn#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson x reader smut#plus size fashion#reader x eddie munson#vampire romance#witch x vampire#witch#witch and vampire#vampire eddie munson#vampire eddie#modern! eddie#modern!eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie smut#eddie munson au#eddie munson comfort#my word is my bond#my writing
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Hey so in a couple of days I’ll have a date with this absolutely gorgeous man and I want to look perfect for him. I’m not that great when it comes to put make up on so I was wondering if you can give me a list on how to apply all of the stuff in the right order and in the right way? Where do I put all of that stuff on my face so that it doesn’t turn out cakey oder messy? Sorry I don’t have that kind of friends I could ask and there’s just too much info on google. Thank you love! x
hi anon i only ever wear eyeliner bc i get my brows laminated nd i have false lashes so i never rly learned to do anything else so i sadly can't be much help :/
#if u want u can come off anon and i'll dm u! i could ask my sister to send me links to tutorials she watches or something#but also remember that he most likely think ur perfect no matter if u wear make up or not#asks
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Ok now I'm up to date with how this works could I please have an Ateez ship.✨
My dream would be to live the cottagecore dream, have golden retrievers, a garden, a pretty office to write in and live somewhere isolated and peaceful with lots of land. However I do feel like this contrasts with my chaotic personality a bit, but I have many sides which means I need somebody who is able to keep up with me. My ideal partner would be a little more relaxed than me though because I feel like if I was just dating myself it would be wayy too much aha.
In my friendgroup I'm kind of the princess one a bit demanding aha,I like nice things (I blame my Taurus moon for this though) fashion, makeup, self care.
I love videos games, going to theme parks, concerts, eating out with friends, partying.. just trying to absorb as much life as possible if that makes sense.
If I had to describe my physical appearance it would be like cute babyface (I hear trauma de-ages you lol) (I have a dark sense of humour ooop) and an hourglass body, my best feature is my hair it's naturally strawberry blonde, green eyes, can't live without my winged eyeliner and false lashes.
In the past I've had traumatic experiences in relationships but I'd like somebody I can really depend on and who can take good care of me. I like to be playful but also have somebody who you can have more serious deeper conversations with. Honestly I find myself to be a walking contradiction.. I love romance books but I'm cynical about love, I'm confrontational and protective over my friends but I'm also trying to seek peace in my life. I exhaust myself lol.
🐄-anon
yes ofc thank you for your request!!! 💗
I ship you with…
Choi Jongho!
Song recommendation: A Sunday Kinda Love - Etta James
- Okay I feel like he’d be this calming presence in your fast life style tbh
- mans is so down to give you the best princess treatment ever, like when y’all go shopping together, literally get anything you want and don’t worry about a budget, he just wants to take care of his bae and spoil the heck outta you!
- Appearance wise he would find you GORGEOUS OMG, like your hair is so pretty to him he just loves the color so much, and your pretty green eyes he’s obsessed literally. He tries to be lowkey about it as much as he can but he’s so whipped for you like actually
- He would be so nervous to come up to you at first but you could definitely tell he was into you by the way he was full on staring at you, i think you’d make the first move, and he’d be talking to you with the biggest
- You help him live a little, he’s usually so busy working that he doesn’t have time to just enjoy life, But when he’s with you he can live it up to the fullest, going to little amusements and concerts, he feels young with you (even tho he is young he just acts like a grandpa sometimes 🌝)
- I could see y’all just settling down and having a peaceful life together, he’s totally down for living in a cute little cottage with an even cuter pup, as long as he’s with you he doesn’t care where you guys are
- omg he’d love playing video games with you so much. Like y’all would make a little contest like, “whoever wins gets to take the other on a date” or something cute like that
- He is very protective over you, not like an overbearing type but if someone is bothering you he’s gonna give them a full on death stare, probably even just take you away from that situation, and you’d be the same for him, if someone was making him uncomfortable you’d confront them about it definitely!
- He will always try to take the best care of you. He just wants to see you happy and will always take the time to do little sweet things for you. He’s so dang thoughtful and loving omg
- You also like bring out this cute playful side of him (he is a maknae after all) banter and teasing are always needed in yalls relationship, y’all are just like two kids around eachother and it’s actually so adorable.
Thank you for requesting lovely i hope you enjoy! <3
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