Logan

23 | he/him | OC Content

[loganwrites-ocs]

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23 ꕤ he/him ꕤ queer ꕤ disabled ꕤ neurodiverse ꕤ simp

One Piece ꕤ Jujutsu Kaisen

➵ Writing slowly, fueled by caffeine and spite

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OC Directory Website Always under construction

Character Cast Shortened OC introductions here on tumblr

Writing Masterlist A collection of my various writings, for my OCs and for others

[queenmimi2817]

JJK OC: Nate O’Hanlon

Character Sheet I did as my half of a trade with @loganwrites-ocs ! I love Nate, and would never do anything to hurt him.

To read the definitely not not angst….

——-> Link

I am always such a huge fan of Logan’s works and he inspires me to throw caution to the fire and just write literally whatever evil comes to my mind.

I may open character sheets are small commissions but that’s a thought for another day.

Look below for close up for the Nate chibi ships!

Follow @cactusvolumes for JJK fics!

Ship 1: Satoshi x Nate x Satoru

Ship 2: Naoya x Nate x Ijichi

[loganwrites-ocs]

Risky Pictures

Characters: Giselle Rosario (@hellkaiserinphoenix) and Harlan Stanford Fandom: One Piece, modern AU

Tags/Warnings: F/M, Harlan/Giselle, sexting, sex, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, phone sex, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamics, marathon sex, overstimulation, creampies, aftercare Word Count: 3476

Visiting his parents was consistently nothing short of exhausting, and there had been no way in hell he was going to expose Giselle to that so soon into their relationship. Granted, they’d already been dating for nine months, but nothing short of a year was worth putting her through that experience. So, when everyone was summoned home for his mother’s birthday as they were each year, Harlan insisted on leaving Giselle at home. She’d been up for trying, but he had insisted. It was only for a long weekend, just four days and three nights, they’d be okay.

Ignoring that Harlan was tense and irritable and had to keep apologising to his siblings for being unnecessarily harsh over minor things. Apparently, being with Giselle had made him too relaxed,because suddenly being at his parents house was so much more torturous than it used to be, harder to survive.

At least she was always just a text or call away. Easy to contact when he needed, willing to step away from what she was doing to accept his call if he needed the support. She was too damn good to him.

That was the same thought he had when he woke up from a nap to find a text from her waiting for him. Like she’d known just what he needed after waking from a dream about her. A dream was nice, but it just wasn’t the same as having her there with him. He didn’t think anything of it at first as he opened the message, still groggy and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Then, in an instant, every drop of blood in his body rushed south.

She’d only sent it about two minutes before. A photo of herself, she must’ve propped her phone up against the lamp on the nightstand to take it. Her, on her bed, draped out so perfectly for him and entirely nude, but all his favourite places delicately covered by a pillow just to drive him wild. His little minx always knew just what he needed.

H: Damn kit, what a nice view to wake up to. Was just dreaming about you. G: You like? H: Like? H: I’m aching for you. H: [Harlan sent an image]

Their relationship hadn’t started in the most conventional way, but once they’d finally gotten their acts together and started dating, they’d not been able to keep their hands off each other. The tension between them had been palpable before, to anyone who saw them together, and of course it’d exploded in their sex life.

Of course they were left craving while they were separated.

His cock was aching already, desperately hard in the confines of his sleep pants, throbbing with how badly he craved her. He’d already been gone for two days, and Harlan wasn’t sure he’d gone this long without bending Giselle over since they’d first started dating. He’d not considered how infuriatingly difficult it would be to not have her nearby just to get a little taste of her.

G: Missing you H: You have no idea how much I miss you. What I wouldn’t give right now to just.. shove my face between your thighs and forget about everything else for a while G: [Giselle sent an image]

If Harlan cursed out loud? Well that was his business and nobody else’s.

His girl had the most gorgeous body that he’d ever seen, he’d swear to that on his own future grave. It was so easy to slip a hand into his pants to take his hardening cock in hand that he hardly even realised he’d done it until the first shudder of pleasure ran through him.

He felt it as the first drop of precum squeezed out of his tip, slowly rolling down over his fingers as he stared at the two images, flicking between them to piece them together, remembering his girl in as much detail as he could manage.

H: It’s been too damn long since I saw you last H: Can’t tell you how bad I need you H: Just genuinely do not have words strong enough for it H: Need to bend you over and fuck you H: Feel that perfect pussy around me H: Taste her H: God I’m so hard it hurts

Harlan’s hand moved slowly over his length as he watched Giselle’s typing bubble pop up and disappear periodically as she typed and rethought, or potentially was distracted by what he’d said to her.

Then, he got a call. He answered before he’d truly processed what was happening.

“Hey, kit.” He greeted once it connected, voice slightly breathy. “Are you touching yourself?” Came Giselle’s rushed response. “Mh- yeah. Couldn’t help myself, baby, you’re so gorgeous. Fuckin’ radiant.” He swallowed hard as he heard her breath hitch, a sure sign that she was doing much the same.

“Camera on.” He demanded firmly, and Giselle’s breathy laugh in return told him that she’d been expecting that very command from a mile away. What could he say? He liked seeing his girl feel good.

She was a vision. Laid out in her bed, in the sheets Harlan had bought for her on impulse just because he thought she’d like them, her legs slightly spread as lithe fingers dragged slowly through damp folds, underwear long since discarded. A dozen memories of that body flashed through his mind in an instant, full body experiences that had his eyes rolling back and an involuntary groan slipping past his lips.

“Happy to see me?” Giselle lightly teased, delicately rolling her clit between fingertips. Harlan’s tongue darted out just to wet them subtly. “Always, baby, you know that. Wish I was there to touch you instead though.” He admitted, a breathy moan following as he stroked his hand upwards, palm dragging over his red tip. “You’re the one who- insisted I stay home.” She pointed out, her cheeky smile managing to linger only for a moment before it slipped away as her lips parted to release a delicate moan. “Don’t get bratty now, just cause I’m not there. I wanna be able to fuck you properly when I get home kit, and if you’re gonna be a brat you know I can’t do that.” Harlan managed to grunt out, even if it didn’t truly sound like he meant it. Giselle didn’t reply out loud, just slipped a single finger downwards, maddeningly slow, and slipped it into her pussy.

Harlan’s fingers twitched with the urge to touch, but not himself - her. Always her. For a moment he was stiller than a statue, just staring as Giselle slowly pumped her slender finger in and out, then added a second one, gently fingering herself open the way she did when she was prepping to take his cock. When she moaned, it was like he’d been broken from a spell, hand starting to slowly stroke himself again.

His eyes remained locked on her body as he stroked his length, occasionally twisting his wrist or stroking over the tip, but he was more focused on her pleasure than his own.

“That’s it baby, just like that. Imagine it’s my fingers inside you - I know yours aren’t as thick as mine, but you can pretend can’t you? That’s my good girl.” He softly praised, a shuddering breath escaping him as Giselle slipped a third finger into her tight hole, able to see how her pretty hole fluttered around the digits, the way it did around his length whenever he stretched her open with his thick cock.

“You’d do anything I asked you right now, wouldn’t you kit?” He murmured, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He knew from experience that she would. Even if she didn’t like whatever that command was. He watched as Giselle jerked a brief nod, lip pulled between her teeth as her body trembled. “Use your words.” He commanded, voice low and firm. “Yes- agh- anything, Harlan.” She moaned, back arching as she curled three fingers inside herself, brushing up against her gspot. Harlan knew from experience that she enjoyed it so much more when he did it, he could reach it easier than she could, so he could focus on it more directly, really work it where her own fingers could only ghost over it. “That’s my good girl.” He didn’t even have anything he particularly wanted her to do, he just liked knowing that she surrendered to him with such ease. The thrum of excitement that ran through him whenever she confirmed without hesitation that she’d do whatever he asked of her.

A thought crossed Harlan’s mind, something that made him throb just thinking about it. But, he decided to wait. After all, there was a perfect moment to strike.

Giselle lowered a second hand to circle her clit while the three fingers of her other hand continued pumping into her, backs arching and the softest moans slipping from between her lips, panting and writhing to put on the perfect show for him. She knew just what he liked, just what would drive him wild. But there was one thing that was better than all of it - and that was feeling her cum around his length.

“Are you close baby?” He asked with a smirk, licking his lips slowly as he eyed the way her fingers were starting to tremble. “Ye- yes!” She whined, straining against the urge to close her legs. “Stop.” He demanded, and though it took a second, she did reluctantly stop. Her fingers inside herself stopped, but didn’t pull out, the fingers circling that little bud stilling even as they twitched to keep going. “Harlan..” She protested, the pout as clear in her voice as it was on her face. “I want you to wait til I’m home, wait with me, yeah? Then it’ll feel even better once I’m finally inside you again.” “But I was so close!” “That was on purpose, baby. You didn’t think I’d make this easy for you, did you? No. I want you to be desperately needy, pressing those thighs together and making a mess of your panties. In fact - go put on that green pair I like so much once we end our call. I want to be able to taste how desperate you were for me on them when I get back.” She groaned in reply to his dirty talk, hole fluttering around those fingers still inside her. He took a moment just to take in her flush skin, her pouty lips, her stationary fingers.

“You can do that for me, can’t you? Be my good girl?” He asked, releasing his grip on his own aching cock to pull his underwear back on, sealing it away from his touch. “I can be good.” Giselle confirmed, and turned off her camera. Harlan did the same. He lifted the phone back up to his ear. “That’s my girl.” He purred, chuckling lowly when a whine followed on Giselle’s end. He listened to the rustling of fabric as she stood from the bed to find the underwear he’d asked her to wear. It just took a minute or two before his phone was buzzing with the photographic evidence that she’d done as he asked, that perfect green lingerie set that he loved on her body.

“Not long until I can be there with you, kit. Then I’ll be able to bend you over every damn surface in my place, and stuff that pussy full over and over. You won’t be able to remember your own name when I’m done with you, never mind walk anywhere,” he paused to let that sink in, imagining the way Giselle’s legs would squeeze together, her hands gripping her thigh or the nearest bit of fabric just to maintain her sanity, “and I’ll take great pleasure in carrying you around, making sure you don’t lift even a finger because you’re going to be my good girl and you’re not going to touch yourself, isn’t that right? So I’ll pamper you properly as a reward.”

Her silence was reward enough for Harlan, able to imagine her flushed cheeks and the way she chewed her lip when he teased her just right.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days.” She muttered, and he could only laugh at that.

If he sent her another photograph of his achingly hard length from the shower after they hung up, well he’d call that motivation.

Harlan was antsy the entire journey home. Ever since he’d gotten off that call, Giselle was all he’d been able to think about. The way she’d looked with her fingers deep inside that perfect pussy, the way her eyes had rolled back and her body trembled for him just before he had denied that delicious release. She’d been texting him near endlessly ever since, and he knew it was just because she so desperately needed him. He liked her like that - ready to beg if it would give her what she wanted. Normally, she was just a little more stubborn than that.

He wasn’t far now, just a five minute drive away, and maybe he was speeding just a little but could anyone truly blame him? His girl was waiting.

It didn’t matter that he made a mess on his way in, dumping bags and coats right where he stood, still closing the door clumsily with his feet. He had something to do, someone to see. Everything was left right there, and as Harlan stumbled through his apartment where he knew Giselle was waiting for him, his clothes were abandoned in his wake. A different item discarded every few steps, leaving a trail from the front door to his bedroom.

Giselle was waiting for him on the bed, legs already spread with those green panties he loved so much hanging from her ankle off the edge of the bed. Just like he’d been hoping.

“God, baby, you drive me crazy.” He muttered, and the thud he made when he fell to his knees was almost startling. He wasted no time getting his mouth on her, tongue dragging through her folds without hesitation, a filthy groan following as her taste hit his tongue. “Been too damn long since I tasted you, baby. You’re fucking divine.” He muttered, tongue just slightly teasing her hole before his lips sealed around her clit, sucking on the sensitive bud as his tongue swirled around it, just to hear the way she yelped, to feel the press of her heavenly thighs around his head. If he died eating his girl, then he’d die happy.

He pulled back just enough to admire her, eyes roving over every perfect, pink, wet, slightly swollen inch. Pink, wet and swollen because of him. But he could do better. He leaned back in, flat tongue dragging a stripe from Giselle’s entrance back up to her clit, her little shudder only spurring him on. “Harlan-” She moaned, fingers tangling tight in his hair, gripping on like she was afraid she’d die if she didn’t. The noise of his own slurping echoed off the walls - he’d always been a messy eater - the air of the room cool against his damp chin where a mix of her juices and his own saliva was trailing downwards.

Giselle’s cheeks flushed, her back slightly arched as her thighs tightened desperately around his head, even as she periodically attempted to force herself to loosen them to allow him to breathe. “No-” he urged, voice rough, “squeeze me, kit. Let me feel just how much you love how I make you feel.” And that was enough to force Giselle to let go and just allow herself to enjoy the pleasure he gave to her so willingly.

He settles into a rhythm then, a finger slipping into her fluttering hole as if begging prettily to feel him, drooling consistently around the digit. Like her body knew exactly what to do to be able to take him. Harlan couldn’t help the way his hips occasionally gave little aborted thrusts, already desperate and leaking, precum creating a small puddle on the floor where he knelt. He didn’t care. He wasn’t moving until he’d tasted her ecstasy at least once. Giselle’s nails scraped over his scalp, her grip becoming painful but pleasurable in a way that he found utterly maddening.

Harlan gripped her hip tighter, pulling her up against his mouth so he could dive in deeper, a second finger slipping inside her to join the first one, slowly parting to begin to stretch her in preparation for what would come next. His nose brushed against her clit as he leaned down just to circle his tongue around her entrance, dipping in between his fingers. He moaned greedily as he reattached to her clit, only more desperate when she moaned in response, walls tightening around his fingers as they found her gspot with ease, brushing perfectly over it. It was impossible for Giselle to stop herself as her hips rocked upwards to meet each movement, the bed creaking beneath her with protest. Not that either of them cared.

“You gonna cum for me kit?” He groaned against hot flesh, breath even hotter where it ghosted up her abdomen, making goosebumps rise over her skin. “Ye- yes! Just.. please don’t stop!” Came Giselle’s eager reply. The chuckle that resounded through him then sent vibrations rippling through her, toes curling with the pleasure of it. Nothing could’ve stopped him in that moment, nt the heat death of the universe itself - he was going to make his girl cum all over his face and there was nothing he’d ever wanted more than that. Her sweet juices coating him. Giselle’s body trembled, muscles all tightening, and then she came with a cry of his name, Harlan’s fingers pressing precisely against her gspot as he worked her through it patiently.

They were both panting when he pulled away, Giselle’s breasts bouncing slightly with each heaving breath.

“Welcome home.” She mumbled as her legs fell limply apart, and Harlan laughed softly in reply. He quickly licked his lips and wiped away the rest of the mess on his face before crawling over Giselle’s body, meeting her lips in a passionate kiss, a combination of his own lust and how much he’d missed her driving the embrace.

“You ready for me?” Harlan asked against her lips, his hard length twitching against her abdomen. “More than ready. Please, Harlan. I need you.”

Of course, two rounds wasn’t enough. It never would be, not for them. Plus, Harlan had made a promise - he was going to fuck her all over the house, and make sure she couldn’t walk once he was done with her.

He had her bent over the sofa when he realised this would probably be their last round - she could no longer speak, only whimpering and moaning with each wave of pleasure, and his own muscles were burning from being overworked. Thank God they both had the day off tomorrow. Cum had gathered in a puddle at their feet, more still slowly dripping out of her with each sloppy thrust of Harlan’s hips, grunts resounding in the quiet room.

“That’s it pretty thing, fuck- you’ve done so well for me. Nearly done now, kit. Just one more. You can do that for me, can’t you? Just- just one more..” Harlan grunted, his chest pressed to her back so he could murmur right into her ear as the slapping of skin filled the space. “Ah- ‘s.. so much-” Giselle whined, fisting the cushions of the sofa. She’d long since become overstimulated, every orgasm seeming to roll into the next, her body overused and beyond sensitive. Every time something so much as brushed her clit, she practically yelled.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby.” He whispered as he nipped her neck, pushing her into another final orgasm right before he filled her again, another load deep inside her, right against her cervix. He shuddered and moaned, low and long. He leaned heavily against the back of the sofa to avoid crushing Giselle against it, panting heavily.

“You okay, love?” He asked softly, a hand rubbing soothingly up and down her side. “Mhm.” She managed to mumble, another soft whimper escaping parted lips as his cock twitched inside her. Slowly, Harlan pulled out, careful not to touch her clit to avoid overstimulating her any more. Once he was sure she could stand, he quickly padded into the kitchen to grab a wet cloth which he used to wipe her up gently before carrying her back to bed.

They simply lay there together for a long while, curled up under his sheets, her head against his chest. “Missed you.” Giselle mumbled eventually, with a soft kiss pressed to his shoulder. “I missed you too, baby. Get some rest. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Notes: I am reposting this from my old account @loganwritesprobably

[loganwrites-ocs]

Blazing Wolf, Little Boy (L.F. & P.C.)

Characters: Lyle Floquet (@queenmimi2817) and Peter Collier Fandom: One Piece

Tags/Warnings: M/M, Peter/Lyle, house fire, character death Word Count: 3028

The silence in the woods always seemed louder.

Wind whistling, the soft crunching of snow underfoot, the absence of animals skittering around. There was less animals than there used to be now, ever since he'd taken up residence there.

The wolf. A guardian sent by the Goddess to keep them safe through times of turmoil. Everyone knew about him, a hulking beast tucked away between trees far from the village. Nobody knew what he'd done for Lyle.

He always approached quietly, reverently, and every time the beast replied in the same way. A single eye would open to confirm who was there, and then strong jaws would grip the back of his shirt and take him away. Away from the snowy clearing he seemed to spend his spare time in, and into a cave that was just about large enough for him. It kept Lyle safe from the cold. The wolf would lay back down with Lyle cuddled close - do wolves even cuddle? - tail wrapped around him like a blanket and his eyes would close again.

It was peaceful.

That day, the weather was worse than it typically was. Worse than Lyle would usually dare to venture out in, but he couldn’t bare to be at home any longer. Perhaps that made him a bad person, to be so willing to run from his family while overwhelmed while they were only trying to teach and prepare him, but it was just too much. He needed a break.

Snowfall was thick, large flakes swirling around ice cold fingertips and landing on a pink nose, and amongst raven locks. He could hardly see a foot in front of him, but he didn’t need to - the Goddess would guide him if his feet didn’t do so on instinct, driving him towards that familiar clearing where he always found the hulking beast that he’d claimed as a consistent companion. The trees loomed over him, creating howling winds that would’ve scared off even the most deadly of beasts, if they’d lived in the forest anymore.

Not Lyle’s beast.

The wolf sat in the same clearing that he always did, ears twitching to show that in fact he had sensed Lyle coming long before the boy had realised he had arrived in the usual clearing. His thick black fur was coated in a thick layer of snow that fell away when he stood, parting perfectly down the centre at his spine, falling either side of him. He shook briefly to free himself of the final flakes, then padded for Lyle as he always did.

It wasn’t particularly a greeting by human standards, but Lyle supposed it was the closest a giant wolf could get, to press a cold snout against his cheek before gripping the boy in his great jaws to carry him away. Jaws capable of snapping the necks of deer, feet equipped with claws that could take down even the largest of bears in just a few swipes, the wolf was a beast perfected for combat - but he always treated Lyle so gently. Like he could understand that the boy needed to be handled with care.

The journey was, of course, silent aside from the hooting wind around them curling between towering fir and pine trees, and the soft crunch of the snow beneath large paws.

The cave was quieter, if not by much. As always, the wolf sat at the entrance to block out the last of the wind with his hulking form, and curled in a crescent shape to allow Lyle to sit at the centre of the curve, pressed in close to thick, warm fur to allow him shelter and comfort away from the weather and the cruelty at home. Nothing could hurt him when he was here.

It didn’t always happen, but often after the hardest of days, Lyle would speak to the wolf. Not always about anything important, but often about his family. His brothers came up most often, of course they did, he loved them dearly. The most common after that was his grandfather Lionel. He tried his best not to speak too poorly about the man, but some days that was easier said than done.

If he’d had to explain it to someone, Lyle wouldn’t have been able to explain why it was so comforting. It was a wolf, not a person. He couldn’t offer soothing words or placating touches, couldn’t truly do anything about everything he was struggling through each day. But for the first time since everything had begun, Lyle wasn’t alone in the knowledge of what was happening to him and he supposed that was enough. To have a place that was his own, was safe, and a presence that was entirely non-judgemental. A place he was always welcomed with open arms. Or, well, paws.

Introducing Malia to his wolf had been an accident.

She wasn’t supposed to follow him, but as reckless as she was she simply skipped along beside him even as he walked deeper and deeper into the forest, far further than they were supposed to at their age. Naturally, the ridiculous girl also bounded straight up to the large beast and dove at him before he even had a chance to stand. She hooted and hollered gleefully, chattering away to Lyle as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Lyle watched in abject horror as she wrapped her arms around his large neck, fingers digging (no doubt painfully) into dark fur. The wolf didn’t flinch, didn’t hurt her, didn’t lash out. When he turned to nip at her, Lyle thought with curiosity that it resembled the way a mother dog might scold a pup for playing rough. Logically he’d of course been aware that the wolf was capable of some level of thinking - and of course he was, he was a guardian sent by the Goddess - but it was the first time he’d been truly forced to reckon with that. He recognised them as children. The wolf understood what they were.

Lyle had to wonder if he remembered the things he spoke about too.

Malia was utterly delighted by the development and, as she so often did, protested about him not involving her from the beginning. They were betrothed after all, they were supposed to be partners. Lyle chose not to fight that battle, and simply apologised. She was too hard headed to argue with.

As large as the wolf was, he had no issue standing with Malia still gleefully gripping his fur, and taking Lyle into his jaws as he always did. The walk seemed shorter with Malia’s voice filling the silence. The wolf took them both to his den that day, letting them curl up together in his warmth, safe from harm. He supposed he didn’t mind sharing his little secret with his future wife. She was probably one of the most trustworthy people he knew.

His brothers followed shortly after that, through no fault of Lyle’s. The four of them had been in the woods together, the three playing while Lyle observed. He didn’t often play anymore, he rarely found the joy in it as he used to. He glanced the wolf from the corner of his eye, and when Malia realised he was staring, she bounded off in that direction. It took her no time at all to find the now familiar presence, claiming she had simply ‘followed her nose’ no matter how many times Lyle insisted that wasn’t possible. Naturally, his brothers weren’t going to let her wander off alone, he couldn’t have stopped them if he tried.

Maximus went first, never one to be left behind, boldly charging after Malia as if he’d never considered that danger could linger around the skirts of their town. Perhaps he hadn’t, he was still young after all. Augustus went after, quick to make sure his baby brother couldn’t fall into trouble, wooden sword clutched in hand. It wouldn’t be much use against any sort of real threat, but it served to make him feel braver as he followed the small footprints in the snow. Lyle went last, reluctantly trailing after them.

For the first time, the wolf looked slightly overwhelmed. How exactly overwhelm shows on the face of a wolf, Lyle couldn’t explain, but he could sense it nonetheless. When he emerged from the trees, the wolf’s eyes were on him immediately, like they sought him out on instinct. He padded over, careful not to knock anyone down as he parted the small crowd, and a large, wet nose nudged Lyle’s cheek.

“I’m alright.” Lyle assured, hand reaching up to gently rub over the wolf’s muzzle. He’d never hesitated to touch the wolf, not once had he been forced to fear that he’d come to harm. Though they couldn’t communicate, at least the wolf couldn’t, Lyle seemed to inherently sense his intentions. They weren’t to hurt him. It took a moment for the wolf to seemingly settle, lowering himself to a sitting position, which was when he glanced back at the other three.

Malia took that as the invitation it seemed to be, running right back over and throwing herself at him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. By now the wolf was familiar with Malia’s enthusiastic affections, so the chuff sound that followed was familiar too, an almost reluctant affection where he didn’t throw her to the ground, or maul her. That seemed to be enough for her to remain where she was, wrapped around him, basking in the warmth he generated.

The boys were slower to follow, trailing hesitantly after her, hand in hand. Augustus clutched his sword tightly.

“He won’t hurt you.” Lyle told them, but it was partly addressed to the wolf too. They were his brothers, and he wouldn’t let them get hurt. The wolf seemed to consider this for a moment before huffing again, and Lyle had to assume that was resignation. They would remain unharmed. “How do you know?” Augustus asked, even as he inched closer, still slightly hesitant. He supposed he couldn’t blame them - everyone may know that the wolf protects the village, but that didn’t mean he was outwardly friendlyy necessarily. “Because I do.” He replied with a shrug, gently tangling his fingers in the fur just between the wolf’s ears.

Fire. The smell of it was cloying, wrapping around Peter until he couldn’t breathe, even from miles away.

His feet couldn’t carry him fast enough. Every foot seemed to stretch for a hundred miles, each step crossing less than half the distance it was supposed to. The smell only became stronger, and then there was the view of the smoke.

Smoke and screaming and shattering glass.

He couldn’t let it happen again.

The sob he heard was like a sword through his heart, then his stomach. The boys. He had to save Lyle - Lyle was his. But if he could save the brothers, then that would be good too. Lyle would like for them to live.

He charged straight into the flames all over again, even as his body began catching alight, fur blazing painfully. Again. He was on fire again. He was going to make it worth it.

Maximus first, the smaller one, tossed onto Peter’s back without hesitation. Augustus next, the elder one, who walked beside Peter, patting out his fur with a damp cloth he’d been using to block his mouth. Smart boy. Peter knocked down walls without descrimination.

Let the rest burn. They weren’t his.

But there was no Lyle.

He couldn’t begin to guess where his boy was, because surely if he could’ve been saved then his own brothers would’ve said so? Surely they would’ve helped him find Lyle too? But instead they’d allowed him to carry them to safety, which only made him fear the worst. He’d been too late again. For the second time, he’d been too slow to save the people he cared for the fiery blaze. It didn’t take long for the flames to slowly sizzle out as locals began to throw water at it, already mourning their losses. Malia came charging towards the collapsed building, the rubble it had become, and Peter managed to catch her just in time before she could hurt herself too.

Her small hands wandered his body far more carefully than he’d thought her capable of, band a distant memory of Lyle mentioning her mother had been a nurse came to mind. “You’re hurt.” She sobbed, as if he was somehow unaware of that fact. Peter simply released the back of her shirt, returning the young girl to the ground.

The sun had almost entirely set once the fire was finally out.

Peter approached slowly towards the ash. They hadn’t found Lyle’s body. He had to wonder what that meant - the others had come out charred and covered with tattered clothes but Lyle’s little body had been nowhere to be found. The large black wolf curled up amongst the rubble, unmoving as the three children wobbled over to surround him, small hands on his slowly changing body. They still recognised him, even as his humanity was slowly restored.

Fate was a cruel mistress, was she not? To restore his humanity that he’d thought long since lost through loss, the very thing that had taken it from him. The howl that followed could only be described as haunting. Broken and low and echoing around the melancholy town. The children crowded only closer, as if they could somehow shield him from the heart shattering grief that he was being forced to experience for a second time.

The footsteps that approached didn’t register until the final moment. Rushed, and light. Rubber against stone.

The gasp? That reached his ears.

Peter moved faster than the children could react - a now almost entirely human man, with some patches of fur still resisting the change and half his body wounded and oozing - and wrapped his arms around Lyle with a rough sob. Lyle stood stock still, frozen.

“This is my-” “You’re alive.” Peter rasped, vocal cords strained from years without use. Lyle didn’t know how to respond. His brothers and Malia came next, all surrounding him in tight embrace. Unable to move for their strength surrounding him, their deep love and grief holding him in place. “The others..?” Lyle hesitantly asked, which was when a looming figure approached.

“Gone.” Lionel. The man that had caused Lyle so much pain. Peter’s eyes snapped up even as his body remained still, a low growl rumbling in his chest as an incredibly clear warning. Stay away. Lionel made no move to react, only raised a single bow.

“And who is this grown man who has been associating with the children of my family?” He asked coldly, to which only Malia was brave (or maybe stupid) enough to reply. “The Guardian Wolf. You saw him change back, we all did.” Her voice was petulant, but no less firm. She’d never much liked Lionel, for all the village seemed to approve of him. He gave her the heebie jeebies. “I see no wolf, just a man.” Came Lionel’s stubborn reply. “He was the wolf! You stood and watched as he changed back! We all did!” Malia yelled, and only Peter’s hand on the back of her neck seemed to soothe her to stop, thumb pressing down just slightly, a soothing gesture. She liked him better as a man, able to hold her back.

“My- my name.. is Peter.” He managed to introduce, even as it made his throat ache, like razor blades were sliding down it. “And who are you, Peter?” Lionel returned, a single unimpressed brow raised. “I am the one who has been watching- over your village. Over your children,” Peter replied as he slowly pushed up to his feet, naked as the day he was born and unashamed of it, “and you, Lionel, have been found- lacking.”

Though his voice was strained and clearly uncomfortable, Peter’s tone made the gathering crowd shudder anyway. This was the wolf that had been circling their village for years now, had dropped meat on their doorsteps when food was scarce, had stopped other larger animals from harming their children. And judgement had been passed on their leader.

Lacking.

Augustus seemed to realise what was going to happen before the others did. He took Maximus and Malia by the collars and pulled them away, clutching them close to his chest. Peter walked slowly towards Lyle, nothing short of murder in his eyes. After all - this man had hurt what was his. Had done it without restraint or remorse. It didn’t matter why, or if he believed his intentions were good. He had to die.

Lionel, to his credit, did not back down. He stood strong in the face of his looming death, a hand clutched to his weapon as if he truly believed that he had a chance of emerging alive.

“Lyle,” Lionel’s voice called, “are you going to let this man hurt your family?”

The universe itself seemed to hold its breath, if only for a moment. Lyle did not move. Nobody did.

Again, Peter reacted first.

Lionel opened his mouth again to speak, but the sound was choked. The final action of his life was to look down at the hand of the man in front of him, and find his heart, freshly ripped from his chest, in it. One blink. Two blinks. Lionel fell backwards with a resounding thud, blood pooling beneath his still warm but now lifeless body.

Peter dropped his heart without a care for how people may feel about what he had done, and he turned to Lyle.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, slowly lowering himself to one knee to look the boy in his eyes. “Leave.” He replied in a breathy whisper. “Then we leave. Today.” Peter told him, as if it truly was that simple. To him, it was. If Lyle wanted to leave then that was what they’d do, and Peter would follow him until he couldn’t anymore. Even if Lyle told him to go, he wouldn’t leave this boy to fend for himself ever again - not until his final breath.

Notes: I am reposting this from my old account @loganwritesprobably

[loganwrites-ocs]

A Short Ride

Characters: Fujiwara Airi (@queenmimi2817) and Geto Suguru Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Tags/Warnings: F/M, fluff, cute, date, kissing Word Count: 1080

“Do you trust me?” Suguru asked, with that little infuriating quirk of his lips that made Airi’s stomach swoop. It always did. “That’s a terrifying question without context, you know?” She replied, but when he offered her his hand, of course she took it without hesitation, because she would always go where he led. An arm wrapped around her waist to pull her close, the two of them chest to chest. “Hold tight.” He said softly, and just as her arms tightened around him, because he knew enough to know not to ignore that, she was swept off her feet.

His laugh was warm and light as rainbow dragon swept them off their feet, carrying them high into the air, away from school and their friends. Gojo and Haibara had been nearby, and for a moment could be heard distantly whooping with excitement at watching their friends so in love be carried away for a private moment in the skies.

Airi’s own laughter was loud and carefree, clutching Suguru not just because it was safer but because she enjoyed holding him, one of his hands on the small of her back and the other tangled loosely in her hair. His fingers dragged through the strands slowly, reverant as he worked away tangles and massaged her scalp with each pass. Airi’s head fell forward to rest on Suguru’s shoulder, a fleeting kiss pressed to the exposed skin of his neck. Rainbow dragon just kept flying onwards, supporting them to create their private moment.

“We should do this more often.” Suguru mused after a few minutes of a content silence, his earlier smirk having softened into a small, warm smile. The type he only showed her. He tilted his head slightly to look down at her, enjoying the flip flop of his stomach as they made eye contact and he found she was smiling to, and he had the chance to watch her eyes dilate as they landed on his face. “Yeah? What about classes?” Airi asked, her fingers slipping just slightly beneath his uniform jacket and shirt to ghost over his abdomen, not seeking or wandering, just touching the skin, wanting to be closer. “Well, we’ll just do it when we don’t have classes, pretty. Like now.” He retorted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

When Suguru’s phone began to buzz in his pocket, they ignored it. It was almost definitely nothing important, and by nothing important they did mean Gojo. When there was two more consecutive calls, they surrendered and Suguru accepted the call. “Yes, Satoru?” He asked with a sigh, leaving Airi to laugh behind her hand at the pinched, exasperated look on his face. “No, we’re having a nice time, we’re not coming back to pick you up.” He muttered, and Airi got the distinct feeling that if his arm hadn’t been wrapped around her then he’d have been pinching the bridge of his nose. “Butt out, Gogo!” Airi called from her spot, tilting her head slightly to be more angled towards the phone’s microphone, making Suguru wince from her volume. “We’ll be back in time for dinner, Satoru.” He finally said before ending the call with a deep sigh. Airi could only laugh, pressing a kiss to Suguru’s jaw. “My hero.” She teased, which finally served to make him laugh along with her.

His fingers gently caught Airi’s chin, and tilted her head up so they were making eye contact. “Do I get a reward?” He murmured, tongue poking out just to wet his lips as his eyes roamed her face. There was a moment that lasted only briefly, where the air between them was heavy and charged. “What kind?” “A kiss, maybe?” He suggested, inching that tiny bit closer, enough that Airi could feel his breaths fanning across her lips. “I think that could be arranged.”

Just as their lips met, butterflies surging in Airi’s stomach, the rainbow dragon took a dive downwards to make their stomachs soar. They had to part to laugh, gripping each other and the curse beneath them as it cut around a corner, their hair flying out with the force of the movement. Once it slowed again, settling back to something more normal, Suguru lay back across its back and pulled Airi with him. She draped herself over his chest, arms curling around his neck just to pull him back into another kiss.

Rainbow dragon cruised along through the skies over Tokyo as Suguru and Airi kissed lazily, hands tracing innocently over clothed skin, fingers carding gently through windswept hair. Deft fingers pulled the tie from Suguru’s hair, letting it fall around his shoulders. “Should wear your hair down more.” She murmured, brushing some behind his ear. “Yeah? You like it?” He asked as their lips gently met again. “I just like you, I think.” Airi admitted with a soft laugh, a light flush high on her cheeks. “I was thinking of cutting it a little.” “Don’t you dare. I like braiding it when we watch movies together.” He retorted firmly, finger poking his chest. Suguru could only laugh, adjusting the bandana on her head that kept most of the hair from her face. “If you insist.” He easily accepted, resting his head back against the curse’s back.

They lay together like that as rainbow dragon slowly guided them back towards the school, ready to be back on campus in time for dinner as promised. They didn’t feel the need to say much else, just enjoying the quiet time together away from the chaos of their friends. Suguru’s fingers traced idly over the small of Airi’s back, watching with a contented smile as she settled into him, eyes closed to enjoy the sensation.

“Do you ever think about what it’ll be like when we graduate?” Suguru asked softly once the school was back in sight. “What do you mean?” “Like.. whether things will change? We’re all so close now, but adult sorcerers don’t seem to know what joy is.” He mused, looking up at the clouds, expression pensive. “I don’t really think about it. Besides, if you really thought you were getting rid of me - or Gogo - you’re very wrong.” Airi lightly teased, and that made a small smile tug at the corner of Suguru’s lips. “I suppose you’re right. I’d have to do something really insane to get rid of the two of you.” “Even then - I think we’d follow you anywhere. I know I would.”

Notes: I am reposting this from my old account @loganwritesprobably

[loganwrites-ocs]

Jujutsu Kaisen Writing Masterlist

Here you can find my various writings that have been posted on this blog for jujutsu kaisen, feat. OC x Canon, OC x OC and OC x reader content, for both my own OCs and others

✅ - SFW Content 🔞 - NSFW Content

Liáng Lisse ✅ Pamper Day Lisse/Gojo

Gojo Satoshi 🔞 Twitchy Trans!Satoshi/GN!Reader 🔞 Back alley Trans!Satoshi/M!Reader

[loganwrites-ocs]

Back Alley (S.G.)

Characters: Satoshi Gojo (@sweethearticism) and M!Reader Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Tags/Warnings: Satoshi x Reader, trans!Satoshi, smut, breeding, public sex, praise, creampie Word Count: 892

There wasn’t often that you were able to figure out where Satoshi was heading when he was on a job, but occasionally he got sloppy. Not sloppy enough for anyone else to realise, but you knew him better than the average person, much better. So it only took an hour for you to realise where he was, keeping an eye on a target. He’d not moved in a whole five minutes, and you came to the conclusion that must mean the target was sitting around and doing nothing too. So, of course, there was only one thing for it.

Satoshi grunted as you pushed him up against the wall, fingers scraping over the textured brick. Usually you wouldn’t do things like this, but the two of you had just been so damn busy lately, you couldn’t stand to be separated from him for much longer. No, you needed him, and you knew that he needed you too. That was why he didn’t even stutter a protest out of those pretty lips as you tugged down his trousers, thumbs hooked into his waistband.

“Shit, you’re so wet already baby.” Your voice came out rough, fingers slipping down to drag between his folds, a single finger already pushing inside him. His velvety walls were hot and familiar, squeezing as if welcoming you home after your time apart. A shaky moan escaped him, partly muffled by his arm that cushioned him, preventing any damage to his head. “Missed you-” He gasped, rocking back into you, greedy for more even if it was only one finger inside you. “I know, baby. We’ll have to be quick, but I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

If Satoshi didn’t leak so much, you’d have been worried about hurting him, but lube was little more than a precaution nowadays. You knew you didn’t need it really. Which meant you could pull your cock from your pants, just out of your fly rather than fully pulling them down, and line yourself up with this slit without worry. His hips pressed back again, sliding your swollen tip through his soaked folds, and nudging it up against his swollen tdick.

“Needy thing. It’s okay, I’ll give you what you need.”

And, of course, you did.

With just a slight adjustment, you pushed slowly into him, groaning with it. He was so damn tight, even after all this time, and sliding inside him was like coming home. He shuddered and whined as you dragged back out before pushing in deeper, your length pressing against all the spots inside him he needed. You knew how to make him feel good by now, even on a time limit.

One arm gripped his hip to keep you both steady, while the other wrapped around and beneath him to stroke his pretty little cock, hot breaths panted out over his shoulders. “There it is, angel. You’re taking it so well for me.” You softly praised, breaths laboured as you fucked into him, the slapping of skin against skin obscene in the alley you’d tucked the two of you down, away from eyes but not necessarily unheard. Satoshi tried to keep himself quiet, really he did, but it was so hard with you deep inside him, slamming into his gspot with each thrust. You knew exactly what you needed to do, even if he’d protest about it later. You knew he was just as dirty as you were.

“‘m gonna fill you up, ‘toshi. Been waiting for this for so long, angel, got so much t’ give you.” You panted, fingers digging into his hip slightly tighter. He just nodded, eyes rolled back as tears gathered in his lash line. Clearly, it had been far too long if he was teary eyed already, you’d hardly done anything at all. But, before you could cum, he had to.

It didn’t take much, though. With your thick length slamming into him and fingers on his dick, stroking just how he liked - plus with how sensitive he still was - you were able to bring him over the edge in record time. Maybe it was the added thrill of the risk, of knowing he was supposed to be focused, working, but here he was instead being a whore where anyone could find them. “That’s it, good boy. Fuck- you feel so good ‘toshi.” You grunted out as his walls squeezed and fluttered. “P- please..” he gasped, one hand reaching back to grab at yours, squeezing tightly. Hearing him beg like that, the need dripping from his voice, paired with the way he was squeezing around you was enough to push you over the edge just a moment later.

With one, two, three final thrusts, you slammed all the way into him, cock twitching as you flooded him with your release. The two of you remained there for a moment, hearts beating in elevated sync, slowly catching your breaths. Gently, you pulled out of him and helped pull up his boxers and his trousers, then pulled Satoshi into your arms for a soft kiss. “Hi angel.” You breathed against his lips with a fond smile. “Hi.” He replied, still slightly breathless. “You ready to go back to work?” “You’re such an ass.” He muttered, feeling as your cum began to leak out from inside him, soaking his boxers. “I’ll see you at home.”

Notes: The people (Eden and Asher) wanted to breed this man and I am here to provide that

[queenmimi2817]

OC x CANON 2025

Day 4 Prompt: brushing hair out of the others face

Word Count: 348

Gwen Powell belongs to @loganwritesprobably

I do not own One Piece.

Happy little late birthday Logan ♥️

Gwen laid on a sunchair, her back facing the warm rays of the sun as she felt her swimsuit absorb the heat. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun, and her spin was sprinkled with pink dots of a burn. A beach towel was draped over a plastic chair, lowered to let her sunbathe in on the sand and keep herself above the sandy ground. A strawberry printed bikini covered her skin and rose heart sunglasses sat on the bridge of her nose, as she and Sanji enjoyed what he had set up.

Sanji walked along the pearly white sands of the beach, carrying a tray with two cold and refreshing drinks. The soft press of his feet into the sand left foot prints as he made his way over to the private vacation set up. The only sounds around were of the faint beach town and of the water crashing into the land. The smell of salt and relaxation was all around. Silence, solitude and romantic tension thickened the warm tropical air around them.

Sanji carefully handed the cool drink to Gwen, gently brushing her hair behind her ear as it stuck to the condensation on the glass as she sipped. He gently ran his finger along her neck, down to her shoulder, to her upper back and between her wings, gently dancing his fingers along them before both hands drifted to the knot holding her swimsuit against her.

Gwen closed her eyes as his soft and smooth hands slowly pulled at the strings holding her swimsuit top together, his hands slowly rubbing and lotioning her back, relieving tension and giving constant attention to her.

As she placed her drink down and rested her head against her arms folded on the plastic chair, his hands slowly moved, rubbing small circles into her skin. The only words heard were the thoughts tumbling around inside their heads.

Somewhere on a beach….Gwen was getting the pure devotion she deserved, and that Sanji was capable of giving. Whatever she wanted; she was going to get.

All.

Night.

Long.

[queenmimi2817]

Let the World Burn

Word Count: 755

Summary: Peter Collier and Lyle Floquet's love burns as hot as the fires they've seen destroy their lives. So much so...they'd let the world burn for the other. (Angst)

Peter Collier + Kate Allard belongs to @loganwritesprobably

Inspiration came from the song "Let the world burn" by Chris Grey

Metallic red blood soaked the ground, pooling around bodies now still on the ground. Back to back, the claws and teeth of a mink tearing flesh apart on one side, with a blue blade coated with flickers of lightning, decimating buildings and stripping souls from their mortal forms. Peter swore he could he could hear their hearts beating in sync, the sweat on their skin mixing as they moved together around the battlefield. Reverting back to his usual stature at 7’2’’, Peter slowly trailed his eyes down his companion, who was running his hand through his ebony hair, pushing the few strands that fell forward back.

“All we have left is Kate. Just her, and then…” Peter couldn’t even imagine such elation that would flood his veins after completing his revenge, avenging the souls who watched over his shoulders.

“I hope you aren’t winded already,” Lyle said with his lips curling up, his fingers wiping blood off his cheek only to smudge it more. “I do believe a shower is needed after this. A long one.”

“Don’t you worry that pretty head, I could never let you go with a helping hand to…make it easier,” Peter said, seeing the fires sparked around the collapsing buildings, the lightning fading away from Lyle’s sword to bathe the two in the flames of revenge. “I think your grandfather’s skull would look good on a table next to Kate’s; a fitting wedding decor, wouldn’t you say?” What left Lyle‘s lips was a genuine laugh, his eyes crinkling like he was told the only thing he ever found funny. Peter felt his heart beat loudly as he watched the other man laugh, as if he had just told a joke, and then chuckled along. The silence of the battered field was filled with the laughter of two madmen and the crackle of burning buildings.

Lyle stepped close, looking up at him, feeling Peter’s hand gently hold the right side of his face, yellow eyes staring into Peter’s blue eyes. The gore and mess around them were almost poetic. The color of roses painting the ground, giving the two lovers an after-battle atmosphere of something raw…something unhinged, but at its core…It was something real.

“You know…we’ll have to update those books of mine, showing my new soon-to-be-husband and his two kids; hell knows we won’t ever get peace when all our youths decide to gather at the same time,” Peter whispered, his lips barely brushing against Lyle’s. “You’re a fire raging in a temple, and I am on my knees to worship such a thing, no matter how many times death sinks her hands into me.

Lyle hummed, a slow before turning away and stepping, his grip tightening as the woman of the hour emerged from the wreckage like a demon from the seventh circle of Hell. The edge of her white Marine uniform was singed, the bottom pant hem soaked red as she walked through the blood of those who failed her bidding. Peter felt his blood boil; seeing her, the one who burned his family to the ground before, and now finally standing within reach, her neck calling his fingers to crush and her heart beating to a code almost asking to be ripped out.

“If it isn’t Peter Collier, I must say..Hope you’re taking care of your burns. They tend to blister if ignored…” Kate said, coming to a pause yards away. Peter let out a growl, his claws reappearing, nails caked in dried blood. “Oh, Peter…what’s wrong?”

“You won’t live past today.”

“A man needs fire in his life: fire is so much…without it, life would be quite simple…” Kate taunted. Lyle turned to face Peter, almost waiting for his move, before he grabbed the side of his face and dropped their mouths close.

“Peter...I must confess, now before anything else.” Lyle whispered a hair away from Peter’s lips. Before Peter could answer, pain ripped through his stomach. The sword hilt pressed the blade of glowing blue through him, lightning slowly starting to charge, and the electricity started to burn his insides to match the burns on his body. Lyle slowly smiled, almost like the Cheshire cat when a trick went right, his breath coaxing a slight expression change across Peter’s face.

“I’d let the world burn for you, but alas….I must extinguish the fire within your heart…”

As Peter felt lightning ripple through his veins and skin, he saw those yellow eyes as his world faded to black, a hand sliding onto Lyle’s shoulder, followed by a simple phrase. ”Well done.”

[queenmimi2817]

I Don’t Dance

Word Count: 874

Summary: Peter Collier and Lyle Floquet's love burns as hot as the fires they've seen destroy their lives. (Continuation/Ending of “Let the World Burn”)

Additional OCs belongs to @loganwritesprobably

Inspiration came from the song "I Don’t Dance" by Lee Brice

The sword hilt pressed the blade of glowing blue through him, lightning slowly starting to charge, and the burning started to burn his insides to match the burns on his body. Lyle slowly smiled, almost like the cheshire cat when a trick went right, his breath coaxing a slight expression change across Peter’s face.

“I’d let the world burn for you, but alas….I must extinguish the fire within your heart…”

As Peter felt lightning ripple through his veins and skin, he saw those yellow eyes as his world faded to black, a hand sliding onto Lyle’s shoulder, followed by a simple phrase.

“Well done.”………………………………………………

Peter sat up, his chest heaving under the grey t-shirt that clung to his body. Lavender bedsheets pooled at his waist before he threw them off and stood up, feet steading over to the old vanity mirror on the dresser. The worn sweatpants were tied loosely around his hips, small holes sewn shut, the tie string frayed from use. In the mirror, it was clear the light facial hair had grown longer, his pupils dilated, and his eyes were wide; the expression of panic, of sensing a danger, a threat of death.

The wood of the vanity dresser was old but finished to prevent any smell and any further disintegration. The room had mid-morning rays streaming through the windows, the breeze flickering the curtains, almost mocking Peter, flicking the lights like flames on the floor. The room seemed to be still, as the blurry vision slowly disappeared, and he saw himself and only himself in the mirror.

His right hand drifted to his chest, expecting some kind of wound or dampness of blood, followed by a metallic scent. He could also feel the nerves still tingling as Lyle’s sword severed them. His breathing was slowly returning to a normal state, and only now…did Peter hear noise drift from the bedroom door.

Only the clatter of plates and voices from the floor below seemed to exist; no cracking of buildings on fire, no laugh of Kate Allard in his ear as he fades from existence without the ability to come back. Peter slid his hand around the knob and twisted, pulling the door open as the noise grew louder, a harsh voice becoming increasingly pissed, followed by laughter and more noise.

As he descended the stairs, photos were hung, some at an angle and others perfectly even; books in neat piles by the bottom of the stairs, and shoes haphazardly tossed in piles. Peter tripped over the shoes, but caught himself on the sectional sofa, covered in half-folded clothes. He stood back up and looked toward the fireplace, and saw his family sword, shining and unevenly hung. The noise and clacking were from the kitchen, and so Peter took a deep breath, tensing his body prepared to fight.

When he stepped into the threshold, it was anything but his fears there to ferry him to the world of the dead; it wasn’t the last moments of his mind’s comprehension.

Cora was sitting at the table, eating breakfast and talking to Malia, both of them laughing and recalling some old tale or joke. Shachi was handing something from an upper cabinet to Keskil, who was the recipient of a one-sided conversation from Theo, which might’ve been him trying to manipulate him into taking his chores for the week, but Keskil could see it coming. Erika was on the wall Den-Den, chatting away as she wrapped the cord around her finger; it was a miracle the other line could hear her.

Canidae was trying to snatch a peanut butter jar back from Gemin at the same table, the two ended up in a tug-of-war like children; Zoro wincing as one hand of Lyle’s pinched his ear; yell-lecturing about having swords at the table. A pregnant Laura was chatting with Derek, who was carrying items, being helped by Penguin. Law was sitting at the table, on his first cup of coffee, adding salt instead of sugar, until Malia pointed it out.

Lyle looked over, letting go of Zoro’s ear, “I was wondering how long you’d make me be the one to deal with this bunch. I swear they’ve multiplied since last time. I don’t even have enough chairs!” Lyle threw his hands into the air, before going to pour a coffee and holding out to Peter. “You look like hell; we’re taking a family portrait today, so drink coffee and get some concealer.”

Peter walked in, a chorus of good mornings or mumbled groans as he walked across the tile floor to grasp the cup being held out to him. Lyle’s straight-lipped expression curled downward, and before he could say anything, Peter shook his head. He rested his head on Lyle’s shoulder, slowly exhaling, “Nothing but a dream.”

Lyle hummed and went back to making mishapen pancakes and yelling at the noisy household taking up the kitchen. As Peter looked out the sink window, past the monument for the family that didn’t get to add more wear to the floor, all he saw was the horizon. The same horizon that presented a lot more adventure to be had, and a lot more precious moments to treasure and frame to clutter the walls.

[queenmimi2817]

I saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Holidays are merry and bright, but sometimes they also involve your bratty step kids recreating Home Alone out of fear and entertainment. (Scrub Daddies)

Peter and Malia belong to @loganwritesprobably

“Mama, what’s a ‘Santa’? Isn’t that the red thing with horns?” Tenrou asked, stabbing the sausage with a fork before Lyle pinched her, hissing about no playing with food. Keskil was quietly chewing on his own breakfast

“That’s Satan. Santa is a man who delivers presents at night.” Keskil responded, which earned him an ear pinch as well. The kitchen was simple, a sink of half-washed dishes.

“We do not tell lies here, loulou,” Lyle said as Peter sat on the other side of the table. Little 5-year-old Malia sat on her chair, making a mess of both her plate and face. From his seat, Lyle reached over and wiped her face clean, much to her annoyed pout. “There’s no such thing.”

Before Malia could interrupt, Peter leaned forward across the table toward Tenrou and Keskil, where Tenrou was trying to scoop the rest of her unfinished bowl of soap into Keskil’s, who just kept nudging her spoon away with his own. “You know he’s real. I’ve even met him in my grand traverse of the world’s ocean.”

“REALLY?! MAMA, I WANT TO--”

“Stop fucking around and finish your breakfast before I feed you myself.” Lyle glared, picking up Malia and slowly grabbing a blanket on the back of a chair to wrap the little girl around his chest to free his hands. “Peter, a random man entering homes at night without anyone noticing, is clearly not real. Presents do not randomly appear."

Peter's right corner of his mouth quirked up as ideas started to form inside his brain. Malia was enjoying a constant piggy-back ride as Lyle’s hands scrubbed dishes home, snowflakes flying by the window, soft records wafting from the living room. Once Tenrou was finished, and had a mini spoon battle with Keskil before they both got their spoons confiscated, she dragged Keskil outside to shovel.

Peter slowly stood up and followed the bow-bunched runner in the hall, lined with even and uneven photographs of the large group that was expected to arrive the following late morning. Some older images were burnt around the ages or were without the colors of modernity, but all conveyed the warmth of the past. He thumbed the old portrait frame of the big holiday with everyone that Lyle managed to stumble upon and gifted him for his birthday; 15 people all squeezed into a frame in front of a tree decorated with care and tradition. Something he missed this time of year. Next to the photo was a frame of a younger Lyle, with his cousin, a little Tenrou mid-bite into her uncle’s hand while Lyle held a small bundle whose face was hidden by the thick blanket cradling him.

Peter looked out the window, turning the knob to turn on the light by the front door, slowly illuminating the two individuals outside who had clearly started on their chore. Keskil shook sand onto the exposed area as Tenrou shoveled snow, slipping now and then, landing in the snow. The trees glimmered as the little light of the sky bounced off each drop of ice on a branch in the wind. As Peter glanced back into the living room, small candle lights decorated the tree, as did small glass and porcelain ornaments that sat on every branch all the way up to the top, where Lyle had demanded a star go. The fire crackled and popped, the light flickering across the entire room, painting the various furniture pieces in gold.

“That’s the plan,” Peter smirked, glancing toward the few presents under the tree before slipping his way upstairs into the attic, where the other four occupants never truly ventured. As he snagged red and white fabric and white fluff from Lyle’s fabric collection in the bedroom closet, he started to work on crafting his perfect plan for those below. Keskil stood up and looked back at the door, already knowing what was going to happen, but chose to stay quiet. His train of thought was interrupted by Tenrou throwing a snowman-sized snowball at him, which consumed him, leading her to panic in thinking she had just killed her brother. He was fine, but very cold.

Peter adjusted the fake white bread on his face in the dim candlelight of the downstairs bathroom. Malia was curled up in his bed, her feet imprinting between Lyle’s ribs as he slept on his back. She had her own bed in the other bedroom, but given the holiday and unconscious worries, Peter and Lyle let her slip into bed. (To be fair, winter was a time when Peter wouldn’t be surprised to wake up to a crowded bed of warmth and safety) The other bedroom for Keskil and Tenrou was quiet, no lights peeking under the door.

As he lifted the small sack of presents that he had re-wrapped to be different, Peter slowly walked down the hallway, carefully walking down the creaking steps into the living room. When he stepped into the living room, he turned and noticed Keskil and Tenrou. Keskil stood there holding a small lit candle, and Tenrou…held a bat with an expression of terror.

“Holy shit, a random guy did just enter the house; he's going to hurt mama and Peter and baby sister,” Tenrou whispered. Peter’s eye flickered to Keskil’s smug smile. The little shit knew it was him and was NOT telling his sister.

“We need to protect mama, sister. From the stranger.”

“You know a brat gets coal for this, right, Keskil?”

“Mama said coal is hard to come by. How interesting.”

Chairs fell over, the table cleared, items falling left and right as a mini battle started to commence. As Peter quietly ran around, avoiding traps and tricks set by the two under the name of home invasion protection, he was slightly concerned that Lyle had not come down and thrown all three of them into a timeout that would’ve lasted until the North Blue went a year without snow. Peter laughed as Tenrou missed again, putting a dent in the wall. He unfortunately looked over, and Keskil, being the ever-so-loving brother, assisted his sister with a frying pan to Peter’s face.

These bruises would be fun to explain.

Lyle raised an eyebrow the following morning, rubbing a crying Malia’s back after she had a nightmare that she woke up in bed to a bloody Santa Claus sneaking into Lyle and Peter’s bedroom to steal her away. “Peter, why do you look…like that?”

Peter held the icepack to his black eye, the only part of the Floquet children's attack that could not be hidden by makeup. “I..fell”

“You... fell?”

“Into a doorknob.”

“Don't stain my couch.” Lyle huffed as Tenrou dragged Malia to look at the piles under the tree. “Marvella, stop rushing.”

Tenrou shoved a present wrapped in silver and blue paper into his lap, which he lifted gingerly, looking at the box. Tenrou handed one to Keskil and then to Malia. “Look! It’s from Santa! He is real and magic!”

Peter smiled as they all opened the gifts, and slid his arm around Lyle’s shoulder as Tenrou helped Malia open other gifts. Keskil was walking toward the door as the sound of multiple voices grew louder outside the home. Lyle opened his box to pull out an old book.

“This…how did he find it?” He said, flipping through the old book. “I haven’t seen this book since I was Malia’s age.”

“Merry Christmas, Lyle.” Peter pressed a kiss to his cheek as Lyle continued flipping through the book. “Now…time for your gift to me.”

“And what is that?”

“How old are you again?” Peter teased, causing Lyle to turn as red as the presents Derek was holding when he, Laura, and Cora arrived mid-conversation. “Or should I ask you to marry me without knowing?”

“I will put your head into the pine tree, Peter!” Lyle hissed as he was dragged up for hugs and the pestering of family, beloved. And although Peter smirked, his heart fluttered inside his chest. In a small box, hidden under the tree…was a small silver band; waiting for the family to bear witness.

[queenmimi2817]

Till I Forget about You

Word Count: 954

Summary: A broken heart hurts, and until you forget them, it will always hurt. (JJK)

Note: Trade gift for @loganwritesprobably ! Featuring Nerdjo. Fratjo, and Nathan (Logan's OC).

JJK belongs to Gege Akutami

Banner belongs to @uzmacchiato

Satoru Gojo was a smart man. High marks, studious habits, and a pretty face with circle frames almost always resting on the bridge of his nose, slipping down as his head tilts down to scan papers or books. There was nothing that could have predicted the end.

Though as the same song played on repeat in the dark of his bedroom, Satoru was anything but a catch. The phone sat on a charger, the same song stuck on repeat with curtains drawn, letting the darkness swallow the room. The number was the same, but it was on DO Not Distrub. The messages were all blank, deleted to try and start anew.

Nathan had been on a sunny day during a campus winter. A book by a fire, a snow coating the green of a pasture; he was the view from the top of a mountain. Love weaved between them like it’s a piece of fabric woven to last. 

Well…it was. It was meant to last.

Satoru buried his head under his pillow, fist gripping onto the case as another choked sound tore up his throat as it left his mouth. He never got the guy, and then he did, painting a healthy and strong relationship.

His heart ached like it was ripped out and stitched back. Behind his eyelids swirled the messages, the threats, and the blame. He refused to answer anyone why, taking the anger and letting it pierce him.

It was his fault. 

Yet in this moment, he brought the sweatshirt sleeve to his nose, the familiar scent still managing to linger. The hot tears started to flow harder as the scent grounded him. Even now, he hated himself; he hated the universe for making him have to ruin Nate’s happiness, his own. He didn’t have anyone to talk to, to tell him it would be okay. 

If Satoru could mess this up, what was the point of even trying again? No matter how well it seemed to go, the world made him ruin it and keep it all inside. 

He felt the pit in his stomach grow. His brother wouldn’t just send his friends after him. He refused to even entertain it. Satoshi was the one person who loved him from the start. His eyes squinted shut as the confrontation between him and Naoya replayed like a sick form of self-torture.

As the hot day started to fade into the cool summer night, the ache and reasoning of the ‘right’ choice tried to soothe the pain and send him to sleep.

As Nate lay sprawled on the couch, his phone was somewhere, Val was on the way over; the pain had settled into a numbness. No reasoning had gotten back to him, and that seemed like enough. 

He loved him. He loved it when he laughed in the dorm room, when he lit up like the stars when he talked about things he enjoyed, and when he resembled pools of sky when he saw him. 

It was out of nowhere, like a sudden earthquake collapsing and ripping the strong foundation without explanation. Satoru had disappeared from the romance with just a few messages, no excuse, leaving hurt and confusion in the wake of his messages. 

His friends didn’t understand

Realistically…it didn’t matter anymore what happened, or what led to it; the deed was done, and no amount of words could fix the carved hole in his chest. Nathan loved him. That kind of love that people envied or wrote down as fantasy, and here he was drowning in reality. 

The love that appeared when a sunset was seen for the first time, or pure bliss of enjoying life without trying to see the negatives of the world, the kind Satoru sparked was the kind that kept atoms in perfect formation…together.

He sat up as the radio cut off the music with ads, standing up and meandering to the kitchen. Under a magnet was a picture of a group. It was a small trip to some kind of festival, the entire group smushed together to fit without one phone camera’s frame.

Satoru’s fingers were laced with his; it was a moment frozen in time. The photo captured a bright scene painted on the spring backdrop, with smiles reaching the eyes, no doubt in the irises. Nathan reached out and pulled the group photo off the fridge, feeling the dull pit grow as the complicated feelings bubbled to the surface. 

That night, Satoru, despite hatingit when the carriage would shake, pressed his lips to his at the top of the Ferris Wheel. The sky had been painted with blues, pinks, and purples, with stars starting to show among the backdrop. His hand held his hand, and the other held his cheek. Fireworks had gone off as they watched in awe after the loud noises briefly startled them.

As he dropped the photo into the drawer, slamming the wood shut, he headed to the door as the rumble of a car announced Val’s arrival. 

The radio switched to play something about a new perspective, a new view. The summer’s heat melted away the love and understanding Satoru had brought him. The door opened, and conversation carried in.

The photograph shifted as the drawer slammed shut over the course of time. As a pen started to leak, the ink started to pool, blacking out Satoru’s face; assimilating to the reality of the summer.

Satoshi sat against the shut door, head tilted back against his brother’s door. He could ask for answers later, he could chew him out later for such a stupid fucking decision. But he simply closed his eyes and waited for his twin to let him in. Bitterness aside, he wanted him to smile again. After all, he’s still his brother first.

[loganwrites-ocs]

Twitchy (S.G.)

Characters: Satoshi Gojo (@sweethearticism) and GN!Reader Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Tags/Warnings: Satoshi x Reader, trans!Satoshi, smut, cunnilingus, tdick & pussy Satoshi, praise, begging Word Count: 765

There was quite simply nothing that Satoshi deserved more than to be treated like the king he is. He works hard, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, even if it shouldn’t be his responsibility. Everyone talks about Satoru being the strongest, about the burden he carries, but nobody addresses the hidden weight of being assigned to protect him. A burden that long since should’ve stopped being his, and yet he wears it like a tattoo on his skin, unable to be scrubbed away.

All that to say, he deserved having his pussy eaten.

Learning that your boyfriend was hiding something from you, early in your relationship, had hurt at first. But when he’d been honest, told you just what he’d been keeping, of course you’d understood. Over time you’d learned more about him, and it only made more and more sense, you could only find increasing sympathy in your heart for him. That was when you’d first become so enamoured with making him feel good, you supposed. It took time for him to be willing to let you touch him, for the first six or eight months you’d been together, he’d insisted on topping. His mouth, his fingers, a strap- it didn’t matter, as long as it was about you. When he’d finally let you do the same in return, it was bliss.

Now you were nothing short of obsessed with his gorgeous pussy. And truly, who could blame you?

He’d been insecure, especially after he started hormones and his dick started growing in, but that only added to him. Made him your ‘toshi. You never hesitated to prove that to him. Like now.

He lay back on your desk, your hands gripping his thighs to keep them spread as you licked through his folds, his pitiful whines and moans music to your ears. One of his hands gripped the top of the desk, knuckles white from the strength of it, the other with fingertips digging into your scalp, keeping you right there. You felt as his dick twitched beneath your lips, humming with amusement just to feel the way he gasped and jolted from the sensation, your tongue circling around it. Slowly, you pushed two fingers into those slick, syrupy walls, feeling them clench as if to suck you deeper, asking for more without ever having to say a word. “That’s my boy, you’re doing so well for me, ‘toshi.” You softly praised before attaching your mouth back to his little dick, feeling the way it pulsed and twitched beneath your tongue, Satoshi’s back arching, hips stuttering as if to thrust up into your mouth. You shifted one of your arms, using it to hold him down while you devoured him. There was nothing quite like the way he fell apart for you, crumbling under your ministrations like it was all he’d been waiting for.

His walls fluttered around you, still trying halfheartedly to grind into you for more. You knew he could get what he wanted if he tried, his heavenly restriction far too strong for you to fight against, but he was exactly where he wanted to be, the writhing just for show.

“You want to cum for me baby?” You breathed against him, tongue dragging a long strip through his folds before attaching to his dick again, the way he whimpered making you leak in return, his nodding unseen but not unnoticed. “Please-” He whined, pushing you down into him just that little bit harder, “I’m- so.. so close..”

Who were you to deny him?

Inside him, your fingers curled to press against his gspot, caressing it with gentle motions. You felt the way his thighs trembled around your head, his tdick pulsing in your mouth the closer he came to his peak. You couldn’t stop though, no chance to pull away and whisper soft praises into his pretty pussy. You wouldn’t edge him like that, not your boy.

“Ah- ah! B-Baby-” His voice echoed off the walls as it broke, interrupted by those moans you loved so much, and just as his thighs pressed harder against your ears, he shattered. You licked up every drop eagerly, slowly pumping your fingers into him as he came down from his high, then sucked them clean too. It’d be a waste if you didn’t.

“Good boy.” You finally murmured against his skin, pressing a kiss to his thigh. “Th- thank you..” “You don’t need to thank me, love. You know I love eating you out. In fact..” of course, you just had to dive back in. He deserved one more.

This is short but I NEEDED it soo here you all go

[queenmimi2817]

A Birthday Today

Word Count: 637

Summary: Syousen will always have family for every single birthday. (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Note: Syousen Zenin (OC)/Hibiki Maida (OC). Happy Birthday to my dear friend @loganwrites-ocs . You are an amazing human and the world is so much better and much more fun with you in it. I hope you have an incredible day and know you are loved and are appreciated in every moment. I love you.

JJK belongs to Gege Akutami

It was a quiet afternoon, a soft breeze blew through the open window of the kitchen outside of the town, creating a moment of calm and peace. Syousen Zenin sat at a wooden table, the surface warmed from the sun coating it in its rays. This was a moment that couldn't be replaced with all the nonsense and stress from the Zenin clan; it was time that would etch into his heart.

Hibiki set a cake on the table, with its unfrosted sponge texture exposed to the golden rays. Fuku and Katsuko slid into seats by him, as bowls of colored frosting and various cases of sugary sprinkles and toppings were spread out on the table. Hibki sat down, taking a photo as Syousen joined his kids in decorating his own birthday cake. Fuku put a blob of green on the side and tried to smooth it out as Katsuko mixed red and blue to try to make purple frosting. Syousen slowly took a knifeful of white frosting and slid it over the top of the bare cake, smoothing it out as the kids started arguing over whether to use crystal sprinkles or write words with frosting on top.

"Why don't you do both?" Hibiki suggested as Syousen relinquished control to the kids who crafted the cake to be the best one ever frosted.

The green and purple looked more like an uneven crumb coat, streaking onto the top. Katsuko used the tubed icing to slowly try to craft words on top as her brother shook sprinkles all over it. The table was a mess as they worked intently, but it was a mess of love.

The twins high-fived as they begged Hibiki to get a candle for Dad to blow out.

For their Dad, the one they loved with all their heart.

Syousen smiled as Hibki carefully stuck a candle into the cake and slowly lit the candle with a match. On top, covered in about half a container's worth of rainbow sprinkles, were the words 'Happy Birthday Dad', including a tube icing depiction of their dad with a bunch of frosting lumps shaped into heart-like shapes.

The twins started singing the song, climbing into his lap and hugging him, like they were still knee height. He wrapped his arms around them tightly and pressed kisses to their cheeks before he leaned forward.

"Will you two help me? I don't know if I can blow out that candle all by myself…"

"Yeah!"

"We want to help you, Dad!" All three of them blew out the candle and laughed as Hibiki smiled from behind the camera, recording the cute little birthday celebration. Syousen took a knife from Hibiki as he started cutting the cake, placing a slice on a plate for everyone. Syousen stood up and pressed a kiss to Hibki's lips, swiping some frosting onto her nose and causing her to laugh.

As he opened presents from them, and spent the rest of the daylight twirling his wife around the living room as the kids jumped around to music, nothing seemed less precious than then. His favorite gift was them, holding his hands as they all danced in a circle, filling the house with irreplaceable love….

When Syousen woke up, he sat up in the white nothingness, the warmth of the world keeping the chill of what led to his appearance here behind. As he stood up, he was hugged tightly. A woman with dark black hair and a familiar face….

She looked like Megumi Fushiguro.

He hugged back as he smiled.

"Thank you for what you did." She said, pulling back. "Thank you."

"Of course.." Syousen said, his voice getting caught in his throat, "Like I could let anything happen to my nephew."

He would never spend his birthday alone…..even in death.

[loganwrites-ocs]

What if I exploded

Tysm Mimi for the gorgeous gift

[loganwrites-ocs]

Pamper Day (L.L.)

Characters: Liáng Lisse (@sweethearticism) and Gojo Satoru Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Tags/Warnings: Lisse/Gojo, fluff, unclear relationship

Word Count: 943

Notes: Happy birthday Eden my love, I really hope I did them justice!

It was the least she deserved really, after all the hard work that she’d been doing recently. Liáng Lisse had been damn hard at work exorcising curses for far too long, and had neglected herself far too much. There was very little that could take Lisse away from her self-care - after all sorcerer work was hard and neglecting herself would never lead to anything good, burn out was what got people killed - but the recent surge of stronger curses had forced her to rearrange her entire schedule. It was utterly maddening. But now, sitting in the chair at her favourite salon, one gorgeous woman behind her working on her hair and another at her side doing her nails - nothing could go wrong. Nothing could touch her in her sanctuary.

“So, Umeko, what ever happened to that boy you were running around with?” Lisse asked, briefly opening dusty pink eyes to meet the dark ones of her hair stylist in the mirror. Young Umeko was sweet, Lisse’s preferred stylist when it came to getting her hair done. “Oh, I’m not talking to him anymore, Miss Liáng.” Umeko replied with a sweet smile. “I’ve told you, darling, you can call me Lisse.” Lisse replied, amusement colouring her features as the younger woman seemed to fumble for a moment, cheeks lightly dusted. They’d had the conversation more than once, and the poor stylist was determined to maintain professionalism, but she seemed to have almost a small crush on Lisse - and truly who could blame her - so she struggled each time. “Okay, Miss Lisse. But I stopped talking to him last week.” Umeko finally said, and Lisse couldn’t help laughing at her perfect little loophole. Okay then, she could live with Miss Lisse. “Tell me about it, I’ve been needing to relax and listen to your stories.”

It was practically meditative, letting herself just exist in that chair and get taken care of. There was nothing she needed to worry about as long as she was in the hands of the trusty girls at the salon, gossiping and laughing together.

Then, their little bubble was firmly popped by the arrival of one Gojo Satoru. She felt his presence before she heard him, his cursed energy too distinctive to ignore, six eyes or not.

“Hey baby.” His voice called from across the salon, and reluctantly she opened a single eye in acknowledgement. She met Umeko’s eyes first, and she seemed to stifle a giggle. The girls knew enough about Satoru to know exactly who he was. “Hello, Satoru. You’re disturbing my pamper time.” Lisse replied, voice dry even as a smile tugged at her lips against her will. “Full name? Ouch, I’m hurt. I’ve done nothing wrong today.” “Today, he says.” She murmured, just for the stylists to hear, and they tittered along in response. “Well - since you asked so nicely why I’m here-” “I didn’t.” Lisse cut in, but Satoru barelled on as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “I thought my baby might like a sweet treat on her pamper day.”

That perked her attention. Lisse opened her eyes again, flicking over to let powder pink meet ocean blue, and Satoru wiggled a paper bag in his hands. She nodded and the stylists took a step back to allow her to summon Satoru with a simple curl of her finger, and he obliged without question. He leaned over and set the bag in her lap, pressing a fleeting kiss to her forehead, managing to move out of the way just in time that Lisse’s smack didn’t connect with his infinity.

“What is it?” “Open the bag.” He insisted, hands pushed casually into his trouser pockets. So, with few other options, Lisse did just that. Inside was an assortment of her favourite treats, from a variety of spots through the city all gathered into one bag. What an infuriating man, whom she loved so dearly. Not that he needed to know anything about that. “What did I do to deserve all this?” She asked, turning to look at him, long dark hair falling over one shoulder from the movement. “Can’t I just spoil my favourite girl?” Satoru asked in return rather than actually answering her question. “I’m telling Shoko you said that.” “Do it, she doesn’t scare me.”

There was no laughter, though maybe there should’ve been, just an intense moment of eye contact between them. They said nothing, and what was likely just a second seemed to span an eternity, just blue meeting pink. Then Umeko stepped back in behind Lisse, and Satoru cleared his throat and looked away.

“So, how long are you going to be in that chair?” He asked eventually, eyes roaming the salon around them. “Another few hours. I deserve it.” “Yeah, you do.” It was just a little too tender, too sweet. Neither commented. Lisse popped a sweet mochi into her mouth with a soft hum as the two stylists continued their work. She could feel Satoru’s eyes on her, they were always heavy, the weight of the six eyes practically suffocating, and yet the feel had become a familiar comfort over the years.

“I’ll see you around then.” He finally said, nodding even if shes couldn’t see him with her eyes closed. “I’ll see you around, toru.” Satoru’s shoulders lost some tension hearing the familiar nickname. “Bye, sweetheart.” He paused for just a moment longer before he turned and left the salon, leaving Lisse alone with her thoughts. Sure, she was surrounded by stylists and other customers, and yet something about it felt different to before he’d arrived. None of them commented, and Lisse pushed another mochi between her lips.

[loganwrites-ocs]

It's Cold (G.P.)

Characters: Gwen Powell & Oak (@undeadeurydice) Fandom: One Piece

Tags/Warnings: Oak/Gwen, fluff, snowy fic, established relationship, red haired pirates mentioned

Word Count: 509

Gwen was a woman who liked her fashion, and a part of that was her deep belief in her right to wear however much or little as she wanted regardless of the weather. This, generally, did not pose a problem. Oak may be slightly possessive of what was his, but he would never restrict her. However, when she insisted on going out into the snow in a tiny skirt, an equally tiny top and fishnet stockings - well, ‘bad bitch’ or not, she was incredibly cold and it was quickly becoming a problem. Gwen couldn’t die of frostbite because of her devil fruit, but she could become positively miserable.

Oak walked beside her, entirely unbothered by this (because of course he did). They watched as the Red Haired Pirates around them spread out to do various tasks, leaving the young couple hand in hand as they perused the stalls of a local holiday market. When Gwen began to shiver, neither of them acknowledged it; when Gwen slowed down, neither of them acknowledged it; when Gwen’s lips tinted blue, Oak changed his mind about acknowledging it at the last minute; but then when Gwen couldn’t properly hold Oak’s hand because her fingers were too stiff? Well that was a problem that he could not allow. Oak was accustomed to discomfort and ran hotter than most people, so it seemed like a simple no-brainer to tug off his coat and drape it over Gwen’s shoulders.

“I don’t-” “Yes. You do. Now warm up faster so we can hold hands again.” Oak demanded simply, then began to walk again, headed in the direction of the tavern where they were sure the rest of the crew would end up. Gwen stumbled behind him, struggling to keep up despite her height, stumbling once or twice and only narrowly avoiding falling right into the snow. Oak’s coat, despite her initially attempting to protest wearing it, was warm and comfortable and she could see why he enjoyed wearing it. It certanily kept the biting cold wind at bay.

Unfortunately for Gwen, being on an unfamiliar island in the snow poses a fair number of issues. Her biggest? Hidden stairs. She stepped as if to follow Oak, and the next thing she knew her cute pink boot was caught on the edge of a small step she’d not been able to see, and the snowy ground was quickly approaching her. She lifted her hands to protect her face, only to find that the ground never came. She turned to see what had happened, and of course she found Oak holding her with lips pursed in disapproval. “I should just carry you.” “I wouldn’t complain.” Gwen replied with a sweet smile and an innocent shrug. So, Oak did just that because he had no care for how people would react to that. Though, of course he was careful to make sure nobody could see up Gwen’s skirt - that view was strictly for him only. Shanks, upon seeing them enter the tavern, only laughed and ordered a round of drinks.

This is a repost from my other blog @loganwritesprobably

[loganwrites-ocs]

Abandoned (G.P.)

Characters: Gwen Powell & Oak (@undeadeurydice) Fandom: One Piece

Tags/Warnings: Gwen/Oak, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, meet cute, first kiss, Shanks as a paternal figure, getting together

Word Count: 1,557

Gwen’s life had not been easy, for someone so young. At just nineteen years old she was alone in the world, with nobody she could rely on, no friends or family to call her own. It was difficult, but it was the life she was resigned to leading. She’d told herself that she would keep living, no matter what happened, because inside her she held the dreams of her brother, his desire for her to be happy one day, and she couldn’t let him down. She had survived.

Oak was a victim, a man who’d suffered. He had experienced hardship at the hands of the government, seen their darkest soldiers willing to do the most heinous of things. Imprisoned, starved and beaten, Oak spent years stuck as a beast, forgetting who he used to be. He had survived. 

They met entirely by chance, on a random day, on a random island. An otherwise entirely unassuming day, that shouldn’t have meant anything. It came to mean something quite important to them both, very quickly.

The weather was mild, the town was quiet, and Gwen had been on her way to pick up some food. This island was the newest of many, and finally she’d started working as a doctor. She had enough control of what she was able to do that now she could charge for her services, and make a profit. Enough to eat every week, and that was new for her. People didn’t look at her in fear, they saw past her reputation and her bounty set by the marines, they saw the good she was able to do for them and the person she was outside of what the government called her.

It’d been a few weeks since she’d landed on the island, and so by now she’d come to know most of the residents. So, when a tall man stood in the grocery store, staring at the options as if he wasn’t entirely sure what an apple was, she knew he was new here. “I’ve found that strawberries are better at this time of year.” Gwen said in lieu of greeting, offering a tub of them to the man, who tore his gaze from the apples to the strawberries in her hand, then up at Gwen with a small head tilt, as if he were a puppy. “Strawberries.” He mumbled, blinking owlishly, before he nodded mostly to himself. “They’re sweet.” Gwen told him, without judgement for his apparent confusion at everything around him. The man nodded again, more sure of himself, and took the container from Gwen with a shaky smile. “Sweet.” He mumbled to himself, looking down at the red berries. “My name is Gwen. I can help you, if you’d like? With your food, that is.” She offered, holding her hand out for him to shake with a warm smile and a soft giggle. “Gwen. Pretty.” He observed, ignoring her hand entirely, staring intensely into Gwen’s eyes instead.  “Oh! Thank you. What’s your name, sir?” Gwen quickly asked, surprised by his compliment and flushing a light pink. “Oak.” He said simply, and she nodded. He didn’t need to say more than that. “A handsome name, for a handsome man.” She grabbed a few fruits that she needed herself, putting them in the basket she’d grabbed from by the door. Oak was stunned for a moment, then grabbed a basket as well, following her example.

“So, tell me what you think you need, and I’ll help.”

It turned out Oak had been sent to get a few things by the pirate crew he was living with, with them attempting to help him with learning as he struggled quite a lot. Gwen allowed him to try to find each item, directing him to the general section if he needed, then the right shelf, and then would identify the item if he truly couldn’t work it out. She told him about the items as they grabbed them, explaining the things that she needed for herself as well, a little extra lesson for free.

Once they were both done, and had paid, she allowed Oak to lead her to the ship he hailed from to meet the crew he regarded as his family. His paternal figure? None other than Red Haired Shanks. What the fuck. 

Surprisingly, he was lovely. He and the rest of the crew welcomed in Gwen with open arms, glad their newest member had made a friend. They were excited to the point of throwing a small party, and Gwen spent the evening drinking with them. A bonus of her enhanced healing was that she physically couldn’t become drunk, unless wearing seastone, so she could drink the night away without any concerns over her behaviour, blacking out or forgetting anything.

In fact, Gwen was sure she’d never forget that night, since it was the night she was welcomed into her life partner’s family, long before she knew that was what they’d be.

The Red Hair Pirates remained docked on that island for a week or so after that initial meeting, Gwen was sure it was because of her budding relationship with Oak. That was exactly what it was really. She’d started talking to him out of her desire to help people, to guide those who need a gentle hand, but he was so affectionate, and kind to her. She wasn’t used to it, and frankly it left her with deep seated feelings for him that she hadn’t expected.

Shanks, apparently, had expected.

On the final day the pirates were due to be docked, Gwen had once again found herself in Oak’s company. She was drawn to him, he made her feel safe like she never had before. They wandered down the main street, shoulder to shoulder, talking about anything we could think of, and everything that crossed their minds. Shanks had told them the crew was going to the only restaurant in town for their final night there, and so the two were just wasting time until then.

When they arrived and the crew was nowhere to be found, Gwen had some suspicions, and then the hostess confirmed them by revealing that the reservation was for just two people. That man. He was a pest, but Gwen wasn’t opposed to his meddling, in fact she quite appreciated. She was hesitant to engage in a relationship with Oak, after all he was still adjusting to being a person again, but if Shanks thought he was ready, she felt significantly less guilty.

Oak didn’t seem to understand what was happening, but enjoyed the night all the same. They ate and talked about small and big things - they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. They got dessert too, all on Shanks’ dime, and then decided to go for a sunset walk together along the beach, basking in their final evening together.

“You know, I’ve always felt like I’d be alone. That I’d never make any.. Meaningful connections in my life.” Gwen confessed softly, toes digging into the still warm sand as they walked side by side, the waves lapping against the grains, an added atmosphere to their time. “You have me.” Oak replied, and Gwen knew what he meant. She definitely had a meaningful connection with him. “I do. Until tomorrow, when you leave.” “No. You always have me.” Oak retorted, stopping suddenly, which Gwen only processed once she was a few paces away from him. “Oak, you’re leaving tomorrow morning. I live here. I have a home, and patients.” “Then let me stay.” “What?”

“I.. I was lost for so long. So confused. I don’t feel like that with you. I love Shanks, he gave me my life back, but.. The wolf likes you. The wolf.. Wants you, wants to keep you, have you close so we can keep you safe.” As much as being a zoan affected Gwen and Oak so differently, she understood what he meant in his bones - to find someone that both you and your inner animal approved of, well it was tricky. She also imagined that his instincts were far closer to the surface given all that he’d been through. “I understand. But you love Shanks, he’s practically your dad. You’ve only known me for a week.” There was no world in which someone could want Gwen so badly, and she couldn’t bare the thought of believing that he could want her, only for him to change his mind and be stuck here because of her. “Everyone else abandoned us. I don’t want to abandon you.”

There was a beat of silence in which Gwen’s heart shattered and then rebuilt itself instantaneously. He saw her, saw what she’d been through, and he didn’t want to do that to her again. She didn’t want to do it to Oak either.

“Okay.” She agreed softly. “Okay?” He asked, surprised she’d agreed when it seemed like she’d been against it just moments before. “Yeah. Stay.” It was only natural that a moment later his lips were on hers, his arms around her lifting her up into the air to keep her close. Gwen yelped against his lips, wrapping her arms and legs around him to keep herself stable, then lost herself in his warmth, in their feelings for each other.

She could be happy here, like this, with him.

This is a repost from my other blog @loganwritesprobably