Tumgik
#hand over the clown nose
cipher-the-sidhe · 7 months
Text
Trying not to run screaming in the streets over the absolute horseshit conclusion printed on Tokitae’s official necropsy report.
Old age? OLD FUCKING AGE???? She was in her 50s! Her mom is still swimming free at a grand 98 years. J2 was 106 when she died. 50s is not “died of old age” territory for her pod. For a captive orca 50 is old age sure, but WHY IS THAT HMMM????? Why are captive orcas expected to live half as long as wild ones I wonder??? I am BITING.
And what was with all the “she’s in great health!” reports we got not two weeks before she died of- apparently- chronic and acute EVERYTHING? Heart disease, renal failure, pituitary mineralization, pneumonia… excuse me?????? Surely those weren’t all just conveniently missed in what I can only assume were the most useless health checks ever performed.
Anyways, I’m absolutely rabid in the worst way over this bullshit. Not even the decency to be honest about her after her death. Fuck the Miami Seaquarium, fuck the Dolphin Company, fuck Friends of Tokitae, and fuck every single facility that keeps cetaceans for entertainment.
7 notes · View notes
web-archives · 8 months
Text
the brain rot is taking over he’s so silly
Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
mutatiio · 1 year
Text
ABSOLUTELY FUCK WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT. who's winning in monopoly?? does your muse know how to play?? are they competitive?? do they flip the board over when it looks like they're gonna lose?? personally maul has no fucking clue how to play and no interest in learning unless one of his brothers or many children force him to. cal is playing for fun and doesn't care if he wins. however he's been in jail for like four rounds and he's starting to question the rules. crosshair is so uninterested that everyone is scared to even ask him to play.
ik star wars doesn't have monopoly but consider this: i don't care. answer the question.
12 notes · View notes
Text
Show me where it hurts (part 1)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
Tumblr media
(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.
warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo
a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D
(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)
edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(
wc: 3.6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You think Miguel is avoiding you. 
One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 
"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."
She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 
"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"
"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 
"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 
He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 
"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 
"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 
"I don't have time for this-" 
"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 
"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 
"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 
"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 
This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 
"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 
"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."
"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."
He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "
Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 
When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 
"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 
Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 
~~~
Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 
He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 
Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 
"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 
Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 
"What happened?" He strains. 
"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 
"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"
"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"
Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 
"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 
"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."
Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 
"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."
When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 
You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 
"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."
You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."
"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."
You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 
He shrugs. " 'Course I was."
"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 
"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 
He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 
"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 
"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"
"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 
"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 
"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"
"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 
"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "
He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 
"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"
Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.
"I don't… I d-don't…?" 
"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 
Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 
"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."
"Miguel-"
"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."
"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 
Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."
You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 
"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."
You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 
~~~
The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 
The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 
You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 
"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"
"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 
You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 
The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 
"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."
"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 
"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"
"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."
"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."
"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."
"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 
You hum.
"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"
"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."
He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 
"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 
"Naturally…"
"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."
"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"
"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."
"Shit."
"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."
"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "
"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 
" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."
"Good to know. I'll see you around."
He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 
Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 
You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  
On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 
"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 
"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 
"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 
"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."
"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 
She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."
Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 
"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."
You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 
"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."
"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 
She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 
"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"
"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 
"I'm a little confused, Lyla."
She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 
It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 
Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…
"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "
You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 
"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."
Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 
"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 
"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."
"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."
"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."
"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 
"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"
"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."
The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."
"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 
With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.
_
_
_
16K notes · View notes
kapriisunz · 9 months
Text
CLOWN THRONE & BALLOONS | LA!Buggy x fem!reader
Summary; You like kneeling for Buggy while he’s on his silly chair.
Warnings; Descriptions of Buggy being hot on said chair, fucking Buggy on said chair; Oral (m receiving), p in’ v, fem terms, you ride until you die.
LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE SPOILERS
A/N; FanFic writers please hurry on this I need this man carnally. Gotta smash the clown fear out of me. Also I’m not a fanfic writer but we need someone to jumpstart it, so if this isn’t up to your standard: my bad, I’ve never written and published before especially NSFW.
p.s: If it gets out that the actor doesn’t like his portrayal to be used in this type of way, I’ll be deleting this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.
Masc!reader here! <- not made yet.
Tumblr media
Under a harsh spotlight that only lights a tiny portion of the carnival tent, you’re kneeling in front of your captain. Right, in between his legs, with your head resting dangerously on his thigh, staring up at him.
Buggy had laughed Cabaji out of the tent when he had reported back from Shells town all before you came in.
He’s ‘relaxed’ on the wooden carnival chair, his hat hanging from on top of the back bar of the seat, with one of his legs propped up on the armrest and foot swinging lazily really helps encourage the imagination.
his brows crease his paint, shoulders are tense as he giggles at his speech.
Recounting the way Cabaji spoke of someone—and not him—had taken the Grand Line chart, you almost feel sorry for Cabaji.
The way Buggy speaks of this sounds as if he finds this amusing, you’re sure a part of him does but you can tell that he’s all but relaxed.
Buggy’s pride is flashy tales of himself, finding pure enjoyment from his endeavors so he can showcase them to the world. So, when some nobody ‘pirates’ haphazardly steal a map he planned to steal himself? He laughs.
But it seems all too forced.
"Captain?.." You ask.
He still wears his white and red striped bandanna however it does work as intended since you can still see fray blue hairs that linger around his face.
You wonder, if you asked, if could he put his blue hair into a ponytail. But you shake that thought away.
Buggy grumbles in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, minding his clown paint. You frown at the sight of him and gently stroke his thighs in an attempt to soothe him. 
“What will we do?” His eyes snap down at you, sending a thrilling chill down your spine. He giggled, almost too giddy for this situation.
He hums while cocking his head down at you and grinning mockingly. He sits upright, putting his leg down with a loud thud, trapping you in between him, and making your breath hitch.
“The map is mine.” He states tucking a fray hair behind your ear causing you to try and lean into his hand.
However, he snaps his gloved hand to your chin, pulling your face and bringing you closer to him. The wood floor creaks and your knees are a little chafed from kneeling for too long, but you pay no mind- too focused on Buggy and how his face is ever so close to yours. Your noses almost touching.
“And I’m gonna get it back.” He brushes his thumb over your lip, smudging your clown makeup to the side, making you nod up and down at his own words. “No matter who I have to kill.” He lets you go, pulling back against the chair again, you let out a breathy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.
You can tell that he’s stressed, that he’s angry since he spent months planning only for it to be for nothing.
A light bulb lights above your head.
Looking around the tent, you and your captain are the only people present as the other ‘freaks’ of your crew must be perfecting their ‘performance’ or taking care of the ‘audience’.
You muster the guts to carry on rubbing his thighs while gradually moving your hands upward along him.
You again place your head on his thigh while feigning innocence. You feel up the striped tunic and then tug at the hem of his pants. He swiftly grips your wrist and causes your breath to catch.
“What are you doing?” He eyes you.
“I..want to make you happy,” You continue, trying your best to not show how worried you are, worried that you step a bit too close to danger with your intentions.
He bends forward and looks at you in the eye. His stare makes you even more nervous, aren’t able to determine if he is angered by what you are doing from the stoic way he stares.
You’re about to apologize but to your surprise, he presses a kiss to your wrist almost too affectionate.
He lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you into one kiss. You let out a moan, heat rising to your face both in shock and rosemary-colored lust. He pauses to look at your face, his hand entangled into your hair with a vice grip.
“You want to take care of your captain?”
He asks tightening the grip on your hair and making you bite back another moan, but you nod on your own this time.
He leans back casually, chuckling at the sight of you. His red paint had smeared over your mouth, you must look stupid, pathetic even: You knelt in front of him hair ruffled and face paint mucky but he found humor in your messy appearance.
“Show me,” Buggy purrs with a wave of his hand for you to continue, a lustful glint in his eye, you nod.
You’re now set on a mission, and that mission is to give your jolly captain the most mind-numbing head. And maybe more if you’re lucky
With his consent, you continue with newfound courage, you unlace his tan trousers as he spreads his legs for you, giving you more room.
Your heart pounds against your chest.
You want to please your captain.
You glide your hand down and graze his crotch, a prominent bulge in his pants all while he watches, hissing at your touch.
Finally, you pull his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh, his cock throbs against his abdomen.
Buggy, who still has a hand in your hair, tugs you closer, nervously you take his heavy cock into your hand and give an experimental stroke.
With a flat tongue, you follow a long vein, giving a lengthy lick from the underside of his shaft to the pinkish tip, his chest is heavy as he breathes, trying not to roll his head back and keep his eyes on you.
He wants to watch you do this.
“Such a good girl..”
Needing more praise from your flashy clown captain you continue.
Your mouth is on the mushroom tip as you suck down, taking him halfway to not trigger a gag reflex.
You clench your thighs together at the groan he makes desperate for any friction, you bob your head on his cock while giving rough strokes on the part you can’t fully take.
However, Buggy forcibly pulls your head down on him making you grab his thighs and gag slightly, he waits only a moment for you to recover, your nose buried into his bunched tunic.
You give him a light tap and he has you moving your head again along his cock, you slowly learn to breathe out your nose and hollow your cheeks as you take him.
You’ll most likely have a sore throat after this.
Your eyes tear up a bit as you take him, his dick hits the back of your throat rhythmically and ruthlessly. Letting you moan around him, and making him buck his hips at the sensation.
“Fuck . . . you’re doing so well,”
Fuck, you want him to talk more, you’re positive that your nails have dug into him as you feel a shock of arousal pulse through your cunt.
You need relief, and Buggy notices that.
He pulls your head off him, a long string of saliva from your mouth to his dick. He pulls you up by the collar of your shirt to make you hover in his lap. Your knees are now on either side of him.
He wastes no time though, a hand under your skirt and a long drag of his fingers from your cunt to your clit over your panties.
You instinctively cry out, but Buggy is quickly on you, drowning out your moan. The kiss is sloppy, but you and he don’t mind.
“You’ll need to be quiet, you don’t want someone from the crew to get curious about the beautiful noise coming from here.” All you can do is nod, and try to not make much noise by biting your lip.
He’s experienced but rough with the circles he rubs on your clothed clit. He pulls your panties to the side but frustratingly rips them and throws them to the side-, and checks how slick you are with another long stripe.
You’re unsurprisingly ready without much touching from his end which he smirks at, he places his gloved hands-that have damp fingertips- on the divot of your hips.
You place your own hands on his shoulders the fur of his coat nestled between your fingers as you grip it.
You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the pink leaky tip at the entrance of your cunt, you can feel it already throbbing.
You are about to fully go down but Buggy beats you to it, a bit impatient he bucks his hips up into you. Your legs around his thighs tense and shake at the sudden intrusion, keeping his words in mind you bite your lip, and you bite hard.
He groans at how tight and warm you are.
He begins to bounce you up and down, and once you follow the rhythm you’re both panting and groaning, hard to stop yourself from doing so when take the opportunity to explore your body.
His gloved hands tail all over your figure, teasing your chest through your shirt.
You take the time as well, to gaze at him, every part of him and then, you decide that; you want to bite his neck.
And you do.
He’s caught by surprise when you pull his ascot to bite and suck on his neck, so much so that he gives you a whiny moan when you do so.
At the noise, you feel your walls clench around him, making him hiss and buck his hips up into your sopping pussy.
Determined to have his dick mold your cunt in his shape you start to move faster and deeper, still leaving purple and red marks along his neck -and clown paint, at least you aren’t the only one who looks stupid now.
You can feel the build-up in the pit of your stomach, a tight coil forms ready to snap at one extreme movement.
Buggy’s also close having the same overwhelming feeling.
He enjoys having you rubbed up against him, your teeth biting at his neck trying so hard to keep your mewls down but they’re right in his ear.
Throughout this, he wasn’t ever suspecting to have you at his feet licking stripes on his dick nor have your slick tight pussy bouncing on him and dirtying his clothes, and to be fair he’s quite enjoying himself.
He’s a goner once he hears the next moan.
“Buggy. . .”
Fuck, your whine did something.
However he doesn’t want to cum before you do, so he holds back for just a bit so he can tail his hand in between the both of you to map tight circles on your clit.
Now your body trembles as the coil in your stomach snaps in half, and your walls clench around him
He finally lets himself roll his head back, muttering intangible swears, riding his hips up into you, his whole body tenses.
His cum jerks into your spasming pussy, you whine at the feeling too dazed to worry about any repercussions of this.
He rocks your hips along him, riding out the final moments of your orgasm before slumping back on the chair.
Both of you are breathing heavily, but you find that your ‘mission’ was a outstanding success as you see a genuinely but hazy grin from your now completely relaxed captain.
Maybe those nobodies stealing the map weren’t so bad.
4K notes · View notes
fanaticsnail · 4 months
Text
You're Angry at the Tall Men
Masterlist Here
I have two very dear mutual creators on here that are struggling with the flu. Hopefully yelling at the tall men of one-piece will help you both out: @feral-artistry & @sordidmusings
Word Count: 200-400 per gentleman: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo
Tumblr media
Warnings: anger, violence, suggestive spice for a few, angst, afab!implied but not overly mentioned, height difference.
First time writing for Cora, Croc and Doffy - mainly going off small clips and overall vibes. Apologies if I didn't do your blorbo justice.
(Apprehensive tag list: @gingernut1314, @writingmysanity)
He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.
Buggy: 6’3
“Sit your tall ass down!” you roared at him. The clown shrieked back, immediately reaching his stuttering hands towards the back of a chair to unceremoniously fall back onto the wooden base. Unfortunately, as his ass barely grazes the base; his weight proceeds to fall from its intended target, plopping down onto the cement ground instead of finding comfort on the chair.
“Ah, fuck!” he cried out alongside his wince, his red nose creased as he felt the pain shoot up his coxic bone and tingle up his spine. This moment of failure breaking a small crack in your iron fury, a giggle attempting to break through your anger. He winces his beautiful teal eyes up at you, cringing through the pain and gritting his teeth in an attempt of a smile.
“You are so pathetic,” you growled at him, extending your hand out and collecting his chin within your thumb and index finger. You were held captive by his sparkling eyes beneath his lengthy blue eyelashes as he looked up at you in awe.
“It’s why you love me, right?” he whimpered at you, his crooked smile drawing you in closer to him. You stooped, pressing a small kiss against his rotund, red nose.
“Yes,” you again growled at him, pouting with your brow falling low in the center of your forehead, “but I’m still angry at you.”
“I know,” he grumbled in response, his eyes upturning and almost pleading, “but I can fix that, right?”
Shanks: 6’6
“Woah, woah, love!” he cried out, backing away from your approach with his wide smile plastered to his cheeks. He was still smiling, even when you backed him against the wall with your forearm horizontally pressing him back into the wooden banister behind him.
“You absolute stupid, ridiculous, drunken-,” one look into his loving eyes rendered you immediately defenseless to his aura. He looked at you with such love, his brown eyes holding only softness and adoration within them. He brings up his arm, choosing to caress your cheek and lace a loose strand of your hair to hook over your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into you, leaning his head down and moving his lips against your forehead to murmur into your skin, “forgive me, I didn’t mean it.” Inhaling a deep breath, you feel the rage falling away from you as he continued murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry,” he breathed his raspy voice into your ear.
“And you’re so handsome when you’re not the one making me angry,” you growled back at him.
Mihawk 6’6
“Mihawk!” your rumbled growl echoed in the high ceilings lifting the light in the large dining room. He was stooping, fingertips halting their descent to grasp the back of his dining chair. He huffed out a sigh, rotating his neck and removing his hat from his head. He placed the hat on his dining setting, and prepared himself to receive your wrath.
As soon as you saw him preparing himself to receive the scorn you were about to bear down on him, you decided to switch it up. Something about how smug he was did not satiate your fire from erupting further. You had every intention of taking him by his wrist and leading him to the impressive steps of the foyer and taking a few steps up to bring you to the appropriate height to maintain eye contact as you reprimanded him.
But his ear was right there, no longer shielded by his broad hat to halt your action. Immediately, you pressed your index and middle finger against the overly sensitive shell of his ear and began dragging him towards the archway leading to the foyer.
“Not quite so hard, dear,” he winced as his steps stuttered behind you. You allowed a sinister smirk to rise on your lips, gaining a sickening amount of joy from knowing you were paining him a little to satisfy your wrath. As your feet found the steps, you relinquished your hold on his ear and turned to face him, your eyes first glancing at the raven curls atop his head that you rarely are accustomed to seeing these days. His head was bowed, his hand drawn up to cradle his ear and sooth over the throbbing shell. At this, your anger ceased and you immediately sought out his eyes by cupping his cheeks and elevating his face.
“I’m sorry, my love. Did I hurt you, are you okay?” you hastily spoke, eyes checking over his face for any semblance of hurt or pain.
“Only my pride, dear,” he replied in a soft grumble, continuing to keep his eyes from joining with your own. You sighed in relief before shaking your head to remind yourself why you brought him here in the first place. You furrowed your brow and slunk your hands from his cheeks to fall them against his chest.
“I’m-,” you began, your angry words halted by Mihawk taking a step forward and pressing his forehead against your own.
“-I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he whispered into your face, his eyes half lidded and sorrow falling over his face, “I never meant to hurt you, and I’m willing to spend all the time it takes to make it up to you.”
Sir Crocodile 8’3
Clutching his cigar in his index and middle fingers, he flicked the ash into the glass and gold tray on his desk. He could hear the fall of your feet outside the door, his jaw falling slack in bored frustration. 
“You devious bastard,” you growled as the door to his office flung open. He inhaled deeply, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out another cigar to clench his teeth onto. As your eyes met, his brow arched while his eyelids hung half-lidded. He sat back against his armchair and uncrossed his legs from their join of the knees. Remaining wordless, he fished around in his pants for his lighter, to find nothing but his golden pocket watch and a few rolls of berry within his leatherbound wallet.
“Be a dear and find me a light,” he dismissed your anger with the wave of his hand as his eyes searched his desk for his capped lighter. This seemed to engage your fury further, making you immediately lunge at him and crawl onto his lap. You drew your claw-shaped grip up to his jaw, snarling into his face as you did so.
“You think I care about your lighter right now, you arrogant lizard,” you spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise, initially being taken off guard by your presence atop his thigh. Immediately after processing the shock, his eyes darkened as he used his large, golden hook to circle around your thigh; trapping it within the metal and drawing it closer into him. Your kneeling position atop his lap was now made ever more dangerous than it had been, not knowing how he would truly respond to your anger. Both of your tempers began to flare as he snarled at you.
“Lighter first,” he growled at you, looking up into your enraged eyes as your hair cascaded down over his face, draped almost intimately over his forehead. You scoffed, flicking the hair over your shoulder and grimaced at him in response. 
“And why should I do that after what you did?” you gnashed your teeth, baring your rage in your now untested situation. The tense air now growing thick and dense as your bodies pressed closer together. He gripped your hips with his hand, his golden hook scraping over your thigh and placing your knee over his waist as he drew you closer. 
“Lighter first,” he began to snarl at you, “or I will channel your rage in another way.”
“Try me, Reptile,” you snarled at him, clenching your teeth as you stooped lower into his face. He immediately stood, his tall body hoisting you up against his hips and slamming your back atop his desk. He hovered over your body, leaning his face down and snarling into you,
“You should’ve just done what you were told,” He growled into your neck.
“You shouldn't have pissed me off,” you gnashed your teeth once more, your eyes widening as you felt his teeth bite down hard on your clavicle, soothing over the new injury with his tongue. 
Corazon 9’7
“Donquixote Rosinante!” you shouted, walking around the halls and tracking the stupor of his step. You immediately heard a thud, followed by several crashing booms reverberating within the hallway. None of these sounds halted your descent, your rage and fury propelling your steps further towards him.
When your eyes fell over his body, he was hoisting himself up from his entanglement with several cleaning products; a mop over his head and a bucket circling over his left foot. He looked ridiculous, his coat hanging limply from his shoulders over his open heart-stitched shirt.
As he rose to his feet, you were taken aback at how truly tall he was; his body towering over your own. You lost your nerve slightly at his stature, but still the edges of your body remained singed with the fires of rage within your soul.
“Cora-!” your words were halted by the man drawing such anger from you wordlessly holding up his palm to silence you. Your brows fell further down your face, your frown deepening as you watched him silently search his surroundings. His eyes widened first, before softening as he stooped down to collect the bucket that was once wrapped around his foot. He blew over the base of the bucket with a small puff of breath, placing the brim on the ground and dusting the base with the back of his hand.
He turned his painted face up to you, a tight smile pulling at his mouth as he extended his hand to you. You sucked in a breath through your nostrils, pouting as you took his hand. Stepping up onto the bucket, you still remained short to his great height. Still holding onto your hand, his smile softened as he bent at the knees to crouch in front of you, looking up into your face with eyes baring great sorrow at how angry you were with him.
Relinquishing the hold against your hand, he gestured for you to bare your soul out to him with a simple swipe of his hands. He was so willing to have you share your emotions with him, it almost made you want to cry with frustration at how truly loving he was to you. 
“You’re just going to sit back and take it? Say something, Cora. Anything!” You screamed, the sting of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued to watch on, never once rising from his crouch, nor bringing his eyes away from searching your face. It was only when a hot, frustrated tear fell from your eye down your cheek that he rose up to his full size once more. 
He wordlessly drew his palm up to claim your cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away from its descent down towards your mouth. 
“Please,” you whimpered while searching his eyes, “please say something.”
He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, circling the other arm around your shoulders and holding your chest flush with his own. His lips found the crown of your head, pressing a soft and careful kiss against the top of your hair.
“Calm,” he uttered, the room circled around him by the spark of his devil-fruit power. You looked at him confused, your nostrils flaring at him while still expressing your anger. 
“Why use the devil-fruit powers now?” you asked him, shaking your head at him as all else in the hallway was silenced. No taps of feet, no drips of taps, nor the sounds of breeze through the trees outside the room could be heard within the silent barrier. 
“Because I want everyone to know how angry you are with me,” he uttered, his nose lovingly brushing against your own, “And I want to be able to scream how much I love you with no consequence.” He pressed his lips against your forehead, smearing his red face paint against your skin as he trailed a flurry of gentle kisses against your nose, cheek bones and the corner of your lips in an attempt to smother the flames of your anger. 
“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” you spat at him, your narrowed eyes looking at him through your eyelashes remaining dark with fury.
“I know,” he admitted, unwrapping his arm from circling your shoulders. He grazed his arm down and collected your hand once more within his, lacing your fingers together as he uttered, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ll never do it again.”
Doflamingo 10’
He was immediately expressing joy at how riled up he had managed to make you, his lips curling back into a sinister smile. He darted his tongue out over his mouth to dampen his chapped lip before he allowed a rumbly chuckle to exit from his chest.
“Doflamingo!” You screamed, rage and fury overcasting your usual stoic state with their venom. He rose to his feet and was almost bursting at the seams with how happy getting a rise from you was making him.
“How dare you?! How dare you do that to me?!” You roared, not halting your approach in any way. He towered over you, his lanky build condescendingly casting his feathered silhouette over your body.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, speaking quickly with a broad grin continuing to polish his cheeks. His eyes remained hidden by his glasses, your own eyes beginning to prick at the corners with a frustrated rage.
“Wipe that horrible grin off your face before I rip it off,” you spat, your hands demonstrating how truly violent your thoughts were.
“Only if you do it with your teeth, Princess,” he bore his teeth down at you. His smile widened further up his cheeks, your urge to claw out his eyes not satisfied in the slightest. You impulsively swung your hand at his face, your wrist caught within his circled grip. His laughter erupted over his chest at this small demonstration of violence, so easily stifled by his hands.
“Ohh, you’ve got some fire in you today,” he chucked his taunt at you, leaning down further into you; his nose almost brushing against your own with how close he drew himself down to you, “What I’d give to see that demonstrated with your body wrapped around my- AHH.” You halted his words within his mouth by clamping your teeth down against his nose hard enough to draw blood. After tasting the metallic flavor roll over your tongue, you withdrew your teeth from his flesh and bore your red-tinted lips at him.
He reached up to clutch the scruff of your neck, pulling you closer into him and purring a roar of his own into you:
“Mmm, Harder.”
2K notes · View notes
trashmouth-richie · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
eddie x reader
a follow up to this prompt by @rebelfell
2.6k
tw: angst, smut, minors fuck off pls teasing? is that a trigger idk.
“we need to talk.” the conversation we’ve been waiting for after you catch your best friend getting head finally unfolds
“We need to talk.”
Your blood ran cold, ice in your veins it was practically prickling your skin. The heat on your cheeks bloomed and your gut quaked at the sight of him, covered. 
Play dumb! It’ll work! 
“I , m-mean, now?— like right now? You have cum- company! a guest— we can talk later, yeah?” 
The stuttering, calmly hands and the sweat gathered under your arms— you were a one woman walking circus, missing the clown nose.  
“Why are you being so weird?” He leans into your doorframe, tattooed arms cross over his broad and glistening chest. 
The flush still in his cheeks almost brought you to your knees, but it was the single flick of his tongue on his lips that had you melting and wishing he had licked your lips instead. Fuck.
“… besides, you already interrupted my guest, so she left—”
Your ears perk up at the mention of said whore leaving your apartment, and your eyelashes bat open, “she left? Why?” 
Eddie huffs and puts his tongue in his cheek like he can’t believe you’re being so stupid. 
“Cut the shit, okay? Will you just be an adult for a second?” 
The smile on your lips falls and you take a step back towards your bed setting your keys down on the nightstand. The silence is anything but quiet. The energy was chaotic and shooting like daggers much like Eddie’s eyes into yours.
“Well?” he asks dramatically, raising his eyebrows to try to get you to speak.  
Play dumb— it’s working! 
“Well what?” you muse innocently. 
“What the fuck was that?” Eddie spits, any softness he brought into this situation had fizzled—dead at the door. 
“I—”
“Forget how to knock?” 
“No—”
“Suuuure, you just thought you’d what? Barge in, ignoring our code?” 
“I didn’t—-there was no hot water! You forgot to pay the water bill!”
“That’s not how water bills work.”
You stand stunned— mouth open to argue but nothing will even come out.
“It’s the water heater for this shitheap building that’s out— if you don’t believe that I paid the bill—call the water company yourself.” 
“…oh.” your voice is small, quiet almost unheard. 
“Wow, really great apology.” 
“Oh relax! Just call her back and explain it was a mistake, who cares? She shouldn’t be so uptight.” 
Eddie is fuming, blood rushing to his head as he tries not to yell out right. But fuck you were being so difficult.
“Ya know… I didn’t say shit when you had Harrington tied to your bed posts and you couldn’t undo the knots— did I? Nope—not a fucking word, I just cut him loose and acted like nothing ever happened!”
You wince, who knew knots were that hard to unlace?
“That was different!” 
“Or the multiple times I caught the fuckin’ Chief slipping out of your room at 5 AM? I even bummed him a cigarette for his morning coffee!” 
Your jaw hung to the floor, you didn’t know Eddie had any idea that you’d been sleeping with Hopper. 
“So? What—we’re just airing out dirty laundry now?” you could be venomous too, your rattle sounding off ready to strike. 
“How many months did you try gettin’ into Mary’s pants before you dumped her because she’s married to Jesus Christ her Lord & Savior? Her name is Mary for fucks sake! Not hard!”
His face pulls to anger, “don’t be a bitch!” 
“And where’s Gareth? Never see him around anymore, maybe it’s because you ran over his d—.” 
“That was an accident! I honked and he never moved!” 
“He was deaf Eddie!” you yell back into his face, “or! How about the time I had to pick you up from the Hideout because you got so drunk you pissed your pants?” 
“That was YOU!” 
The two of you were standing nose to nose, shouting accusing each other of shit that didn’t even matter. Eddie had your back and you’d have his until the end. Cradle to the grave. 
But this was different, you weren’t fighting like siblings or friends, you were both screaming as if you were in pain. 
He’s the first to move, shaking his head and turning towards the door. when he speaks his voice is low, angry.
“When my door is shut don’t open it—turn your ass around and fuck off, got it?” 
His words split your skin, vining through your body like sharp thorns. The hot spill of tears were welling in your eyes. 
“Sorry to bother you, asshole— won’t happen again.”
He’s on the opposite side when you slam your door in his face. The rain brewed and stewed and finally was ready to fall from the clouds in your eyes. 
Why were you acting like this? 
Grabbing your keys you set to leave again, needing an escape so he couldn’t hear your wailing cries. But again— when you opened the door, he was still standing there, only this time he looked pissed. 
“Move.”
He brushes you off as if he didn’t even hear you, “enough.”
“Eddie, get out of the way!” 
“Do you know how many nights I listened to you fake it for this fuckheads?” How long 
I’ve waited for you to admit it?” 
He shuts your door behind him as he pushes his way inside. 
“Admit what?”
“C’mon, baby— we haven’t been friends for a long time, not really.” 
You’re confused and on the verge of tears, “what?!”
Eddie presses forward, head tilted down at you.
 “Those douchebags you bring here can’t handle you the way I know you need…coming home to see their boots by the front door makes me absolutely despise you.”
“Who gives a shit? I trip over skanky high heels sometimes too.”
You were missing the point he was trying to make, way over your head. 
“Never satisfied when they leave…that little vibrator in the top drawer is not as quiet as you think it is.”
You were throbbing, aching… how did he know? 
He inches forward, and you double back towards the door.
“I—”
“Pretty little moans on your lips just minutes after they leave…‘m not stupid sweetheart, I know you do it on purpose— parading around the apartment in your little shorts, never wearing a bra… you’re a tease.” 
He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be! Right?
“I hate you, Eddie.” 
He stalks forward like a predator eyeing its prey, a stupid smirk on his face. 
“No— No I don’t think you do. I think you’re so fucking wound up about me, jealous... It’s alright, I get it. I bury myself in bitches so you’ll get out of my head.”
He takes a ragged breath, his eyes pitch dark, and your back hits the door, he closes in around you, his arms on either side of your head. 
“I fucking hate you, princess. I hate that it doesn’t work.. you’ve made me jealous for too fucking long.”
Your body was screaming, angel and devil on your shoulder dancing and holding hands rooting you on. 
“H-how long?”
His hand falls to your chin, pulling down your bottom lip.
“Senior year. Hellfire. You laughed at one of Jeff’s stupid fucking jokes and my blood ran cold. I wanted you to look at me like you looked at him. That was just the first time I realized I wanted you.”
You shudder, fingers running along his chest, playing with the chain on his neck, “why not say anything?”
“Didn’t wanna ruin this.” 
His lips nearly touch yours, he’s leaning in so close. And you don’t pull away. 
“I think it’s pretty clear that our friendship is over, Eddie. I fucking hate you.” 
“I hate you, too sweetheart.” 
The tension is thick, spinning with bated breath and sexual desire. 
“So, we hate each other?”
“Yep.” Eddie muses, angling your chin so he can see your neck. 
“…and we aren’t friends?” 
He nods silently, pressing his nose to your cheek, “seems to be that way.” 
“You’ve ruined everything.”
“Good,” he all but whispers into your ear. 
“..a perfectly good pair of underwear.” 
His breath hitches in his throat, and he licks his lips. “Can’t have that.” 
“No, not at all,” you tease, thumbing at your waistband and letting your shorts hit the floor.
He steps back to examine you with wide eyes, letting them narrow as he bites his lip, looking you dead in the eyes. 
“I’m gonna fuck you exactly how you need to be fucked.” 
Pulling him back into you by his chain necklace you ask centimeters from his lips, tasting the heat from his mouth, “what are you waiting for?” 
He takes a deep breath, hovering his mouth over yours, “nothing, not anymore.”
His tongue hits you first, electric like an eel on your lips, his breath hot as fire. You moan out when his hands grip your ass, pulling you into him with such force you could have toppled over. 
Eddie is loud too. Groaning with each swipe of your tongue against his. 
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, baby.” 
His dick is pressed into your middle, hard and kicking up as your hands reach into his hair, pulling you closer to him as if he were a rope and you were climbing a mountain. 
He pulls you away from the door to get a quick slap to your ass. Rough and hard and you’re mewling, his rings stinging your skin. 
Your lips close to his ear you whisper “Eddie… please.”
He pulls away after leaving a mark on your neck. 
“You don’t have to beg, I’ll give you whatever you need, however many times you want it, honey.”
His fingers dip into your waistband around your hips as he slides your panties down to your thighs.  “Let me see that cunt, show me what I did to you.” 
You step out of your panties and he lowers himself to the floor on bent knees. “Jesus Christ, look how pretty she is, ‘m gonna eat this pussy till you cum all over my face.” 
You nod dumbly, body on fire from his words, the lust of having his hands touch you in places he never had, places you dreamt he would, has your mind spinning. 
His bangs tickle your inner thighs, breath fanning on your clit, thumbs spreading you open. He sucks in a breath, whistling low.
A single flick of his tongue— that’s all it takes for your eyes to roll, for your back to bend in an arch like you were being exorcized of hell’s worst demons. Your fingernails scratching into the door trying to anchor yourself from grinding on his face until his nose broke. 
He spits, watching it drip down to your cunt, “don’t ask me to stop.” 
Diving in, his tongue is everywhere. Lapping you up, sucking your clit into his mouth. Swirling around like you would while eating an ice cream cone. Your chest heaves and your thighs tremble as he hooks one over his shoulder pressing into him and he gently pushes it back into place, his eyes never leaving your body. 
When it happens again, he shoves it down with force, nipping at one of your thighs, his lips shiny and wet he groans, “keep ‘em put.” 
The tip of his middle finger pushes into you, and you squeak out a gasp, leaning forward off the door to take a look at him, and he nearly laughs, “jesus, you’re tight sweetheart, gonna need to work you up a bit.” 
He smiles before attaching his mouth to your thigh, sucking a bruise as he fucks you with his fingers, adding a second that’s easier than the first. Your body rolls with his motions, pushing back against him and you know your orgasm is about to snap.
His tongue replaces his fingers and the heat in your stomach releases, untying the white knot and spilling over his lips as you scream out his name. 
“Thatta girl, fuck look at you, Christ.” 
Your eyes open, a strange drunk feeling taking over, as if you were high on a cloud and falling gracefully back to the earth. Opening to see the blackened eyes of the guy you’ve called your best friend for years, and if you would have known his tongue could do that, maybe you would have ruined this friendship a lot sooner.
“Fuck off Munson,” you mutter, out of breath as your foot gently sets on the ground.
“What?” he laughs.
“Just keeping the fact that you eat pussy better than the devil all to yourself huh? Selfish.”
His face splits into a grin laced with evil as he stands, licking his lips, “that’s not all I can do.” 
He’s on you in a flash, hoising you up into his arms, and using the other to hastily shove his boxers down. “Can’t go back after this.” 
“Oh this is the tipping point? Fucking is gonna ruin it not you just making going down on me?” 
He rolls his eyes as he lines himself up with you, “what happened to that sweet girl I used to chase in the trailer park, huh?” 
You reach around your legs and grab his thick cock and lightly sink down onto it the head barely pushing past your puffy lips, “fuck…met a boy who grew up and started selling weed out of his van, kind of an asshole, really big dick though.”
He thrusts up into you so hard you nearly see black, vision spotty from pleasure alone, you whine his name and he practically comes undone.
“Don’t.. shit… don’t do that, I won’t last. Those noises haunt me… been wanting to hear them.”
He holds you tight and fucks you slowly, dragging his cock at a ridiculously slow speed. Groaning when you suck him in deep, biting his neck. 
“There it is, the noise that started this whole mess.” 
He grins into you stupidly, “I’m glad you’re perverted plan worked, you little hussy.” 
His hips move faster and your both whining, accompanied by the slapping of skin on skin. “Water heaters’ been out since last week, ‘m not stupid babe, you’re the one who called and asked.” 
“Whoops— oh my goddd,” you squeal before you're panting like a dog and clawing his arms with your nails, he was splitting you wide open and you were near to tears. 
The tears finally fall when Eddie bottoms out in your cunt, filling you up, grunting your name as he rests his forehead to your shoulder— completely spent. 
His lips kiss your collar bone and you twirl a curl away from his face exhausted around his softening length. 
“Princess,” he breathes, kissing life back into himself with the sweat from your skin, “if you wanted to fuck, you should have told me sooner, could have saved us a week of cold showers, y’know?” 
You kissed his lips, letting him set you down on the bed so you could both lay back in a lazy post sex high, surrounded by your blankets. 
“Well maybe you should have fixed it sooner, you are the maintenance manager of the building.”  
Eddie grins and pins you onto the mattress, his hair falling into your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheeks to catch a rogue eyelash, “come with me to fix it?” 
“Hmm..” fingers moving his hair behind his ear, “you gonna wear that slutty stained white tank top?” 
“Slutty? Why, gonna seduce me in the boiler room?” his lips move down your neck and you whimper. 
“Maybe…” you tease tickling his underarm, “so if I wouldn’t have barged into your room… what else would you have done?” 
Eddie only smiles, thinking of his plan to “break” the air conditioner and hide your hoodies and blankets so you’d have to come to him for warmth. 
“Let’s just say, you would have ended up as my girl one way or another.” 
steve tied up in readers room
Tumblr media
taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r
1K notes · View notes
tender-rosiey · 10 months
Text
hinting — gojo satoru x f!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: thank @callmemirro for the bby fever idea but the video of the baby is what fueled the fire even more
Tumblr media
you have a feeling that something has been plaguing your husband’s mind. it’s not a bad thing—like that way too expensive pea-sized handbag he wanted to get just to clown it.
it’s actually good and adorable especially with the way it gets him all smiley and bubbly.
you also started to notice when exactly he gets into these moods or rather regarding what.
for example, you were browsing the store once for new clothes. you and satoru agreed to split to search on a wider scale for discounts.
so when he came back, all smiley and excited, you expected a 50% sale or something. instead, you got surprised with possibly the cutest baby pajama ever.
“what do you think, babe? it’s so cute especially the little smiling duck in the middle!”
you take it from him, examining it up close. truthfully, the material is pretty good and it is soft on the skin. there is only one problem though.
you look up to your husband with a smile, “but, honey, we don’t have a baby.”
satoru deflates for a single second before standing up straight, proud, “hey, now! we can always get it for future plans,” he ogles you, but you quickly pinch his nose.
“haha, very funny.” you start pushing the cart towards that one outfit you liked with satoru following close by.
“y/n, I am serious!” he whines as his hand finds home on your waist.
“and I am a dinosaur in disguise.”
he gasps, “really?!”
“no.”
and that happened more than once.
another thing is that satoru has been obsessed with baby videos.
you remember that one time you were chilling on your beloved couch when he came stumbling into the room, clutching his phone and almost dying of laughter, “y/n! y/n! look at this baby!”
satoru is wheezing as he replays the video over and over again. his uncontrollable laughter is music to your ears, but you feel that you’re going to have to take him to a therapist or a mental hospital.
he laughs loudly for sure, but he has been like this for 4 hours, showing you a baby video every minute or so.
you look at him with sympathy as he cackles, “it was so ready to square up too—huh, what’re you doing?”
you pull him into your embrace and he immediately melts, arms wrapping around you in an instant.
you gently rub his back and press a kiss to the top of his head, “my poor baby,” you coo and gojo lights up: have you finally understood what he has been hinting at?
you cup his face and kiss his cheeks, “work must’ve taken quite a toll on you; we can go to the hosp—“
“hey! that’s just mean!”
he huffs moving away and giving you his back, but then he looks back at you, “but the baby was cute, right?”
you laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder, “yeah, in a way, it reminded me of megumi.”
“you’re so right! even as a first-grader, he was so ready to fight anyone.”
another memorable incident happened when you were in a park, taking a walk with your darling husband.
it was peaceful, accompanied by the squeals of children, the coolness of the ice cream, and the comfort of your husband’s presence. speaking of which, where’s that guy?
you look around, searching for a very prominent walking paintbrush. you blink once, twice, and he is finally in front of you with a huge grin, “y/n, look at this cutie pie I just met!”
you soften at the sight of the giggling baby in his arms. the little baby girl reaches out for you and you cradle her in your arms.
cooing at her, you rock gently while making silly faces and it makes her laugh a laugh from her belly. it also makes a certain someone sport the most lovesick smile known to existence.
smiling, you look at your husband, “where did you find her? was she lost?”
your husband sweatdrops and looks to the side, glasses showing off his bright blue eyes, “about that—“
“there he is, officer! he took my baby!”
so yeah, something is up with your husband, and you have had enough with him hiding it from you. god is on your side today as you’re finally able to back him into a corner and finally interrogate him.
“satoru, is there something you want to tell me?” you ask the man, breathless after running around the school for a couple of hours.
silence occupies the room before your husband finally gives in.
he takes a deep breath and hugs you, resting his head on your shoulder, “I want…” he mumbles, “I want a baby, please?”
you are silent for a moment then you make him look you in the eyes, “really?”
“really,” he says, voice unwavering, “I know that it might be scary, but we have experience with tsumiki and megumi, and they turned out just fine!” he starts rambling, “except for megumi, he can be bratty sometimes, but point is!” he holds your hands in his, “I want to start a family with you, but if you don’t want—“
“okay.”
“—to I completely understand and…wait—did you just say okay?”
“yeah,” you beam, “let’s have a baby. you could’ve said that right away, silly.”
he stares at you for a bit, “do you have any idea how LONG I HAVE BEEN—“
Tumblr media
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawings @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @mx-0-child @that-mom-friend-dot-com
Tumblr media
copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
4K notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Text
Danny stared at his nemesis, slowing his walk to a complete stop.
“Don’t,” he pleaded.
The devil incarnate glared back at him, somehow conveying its disdain, disinterest, and malicious intent in one cold stare.
“I swear to Ancients-!”
Mr. Muffins, Jazz’s college cat, meowed loudly and slapped the glass off of the counter.
“No!” Danny dove at the glass, skidding across the tile just in time to catch Jazz’ favorite cup as tipped over and plummeted towards the cold hard floor. “Oh my- you little devil! Mr. Muffins, you little shit!”
Mr. Muffins flicked a tail and sat down calmly as Danny sprung back up to place the cup into the sink.
“You stinky bastard, Jazz would have killed me!”
Danny picked the cat up and held him by the armpits, dangling the cat. Mr. Muffins, no longer simply disdainful, meowed loudly and tried to wiggle away.
“Listen, here, Mr. Muffins- ah! No, you’re not allowed to run away! You have to take responsibility for your actions,” Danny slipped into Ghost Speak as he lectured Mr. Muffins, a rather harried look smushed across his face. He didn’t hear the door open, but he did hear Jazz call out to him.
“Danny, stop bullying Mr. Muffins!”
“Maybe if you parented Mr. Muffins right, he wouldn’t be trying to knock your favorite cup all over the place! If it weren’t for me,” Danny swayed Mr. Muffins, who had become docile as he caught sight of Jazz, like a fluffy and long pendulum. “Your cup would be pieces all over the floor right now!”
Jazz tossed her keys onto the table. “Right… and that definitely didn’t have anything to do with you putting your cup too close to the edge like I told you not to?”
Danny stared at her, mouth gaping in offense. Alright, so it did have to do with that, but it was offensive how fast she came to that conclusion. Danny said as much to Jazz, who smirked and plucked her cat from his grip.
“Have you considered that you’re easily predictable, dork?” Jazz cuddled Mr. Muffins, who was purring up a storm, and walked towards her room.
“Rude! Are you calling me basic?”
“If the shoes fit, Danny-O!” Jazz hollered back. Mr. Muffins mewed as if to punctuate her sentence.
“I hate that cat,” Danny grumbled, grinning fondly. “Now that you’re back, I’m gonna go visit Tim and Tucker! They’re over at Tucker’s for a project!”
“Kay!” Jazz yelled back. “Don’t run into to much trouble and be back before three A.M.!”
“Yes, mother!” Danny put on his shoes and started walking.
——
Danny, along with a handful of dumbstruck civilians, stared down at the unconscious clown. Then, they stared at Danny’s hand in shock and awe. Danny too, stared at his own hand, but in abject betrayal.
“Shit. Jazz is gonna kill me.” He mumbled, pulling out his phone.
“Hey, Tucker. Yeah, sorry, I’m gonna be late.” Danny paused, glancing back down at the clown, up at the still shocked goons, and sighed. “I- uh, knocked out the Joker by accident. Maybe broke his nose.”
Danny heard Tim’s muffled “WHAT?!” and silently concurred because what? He thought villains in Gotham were made of sturdier stuff?!
“Can you tell Jazz? I gotta,” Danny held up the phone, so it could pick up the loud sirens approaching his position. “Deal with the cops.”
Danny pouted as Tucker laughed at him.
997 notes · View notes
youngadultmachine · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
very interesting notification i have never seen before
0 notes
kenntolog · 14 days
Note
Other than CoolBF! sukuna and loser gf! Reader, I can't believe many people aren't talking about loner! Choso 😭😭 it's so cute?? 😭 The MYRIAD of things that can happen to them like reader asking choso to do make up on him because 1. It's cute and 2. She wants to practice her make up skills 😭 both are cute
𝝑𝝔 an: thank u thank u thaaank uu, lovely anon!! hope you enjoy this <33 read more here!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
choso literally teleports to your side as soon as you call out for him from your bedroom. he puts away every task he had in hand and walks into your room, giving you a questioning look before he notices you sitting on your bed with a pile of cosmetic stuff by your side. you beckon him to come sit with you and crawl on his lap, making him hiss from the unexpectedness.
"choo~" you cup his cheeks with both hands and beam at him brightly. "can i do your make up?"
honestly, you can do anything you want to him as long as you're in his lap and he can run his hands all over your body, just like he's doing now. so he just smiles at you lovingly and nods in agreement, his heart warming when you squeal in happiness and lean down to peck his cheeks repeatedly.
it's also a bonus that he gets to be so close to you and listen to your endless rambles and watch your expressive face, one of his favorite things to do. to be honest, half of the things you say he doesn't understand generally, but he still nods and says 'sure' whenever you look at him for confirmation.
you put a lot of stuff on his face, he has no idea what is a 'primer' or 'conceaaler', but he knows what is a moisturizer since you force him to at least do that every morning and night. you dab about a million products on his face with a spongy thing while you hum along to your favorie songs and tell him to shut up whenever he joins you too.
"choso! you're gonna ruin the lip combo, stop!" "sorry, pup."
when it's time to put on eye makeup, choso has the opportunity to witness the cute face you make whenever you’re extremely focused on something; brows pinched together and the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth as one of your hands tilts his face to the right angle while the other glides the eyeliner over his eyelid. it kind of tickles and he has the urge to tickle you back, but he doesn't want to ruin your hard work so he just stays silent until you are finished.
"oh!" you exclaim as you pull away to look at him. your eyes are glimmering with joy and pride so he takes it that he doesn't look like a clown. "cho, you look so pretty!"
you give him a small mirror, "i do?"
one thing that surprises him is that his dark undereyes are almost fully covered while the tattoo on his nose is visible. his lips are also not colourless anymore, now contoured with soft pink and a covered with a lipstick that's a bit darker and a gloss. there's a matching shade of artficial blush covering his cheeks and his brows look more neat. his eyes have curled lashes and drawn ends, looking more graceful than ever.
"do you like it, choso?"
"if you like it, then i love it."
your smile is so wide that choso can't help his own from stretching on his coloured lips. if you're going to smile like this for him every time then he's ready to be your doll forever.
567 notes · View notes
erideights · 8 months
Text
Little pieces here and there (2)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, three, four, five
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Flirting, suggestive flirting, heavy pinning
A/N: GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS ME ON THE FLOOR, I HOPE YOU ENJOY, THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE and if you like it let me know to start preparing part 3 ♡ (sorry for any grammatical mistake!)
Tumblr media
"The One Piece will never be yours!" He shouted angrily, that -now- dwarf with a red nose, giant hands and feet, when he was defeated. Just like in a cartoon for kids.
"You're just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!" She could not understand how it was possible that this intimidating, psychopathic, eccentric clown had turn around so quickly into this little thing that was so... dare she say pathetic, but she didn't wanna be too cruel to him.
The moment Luffy declared his intentions again, Buggy began to look around him, desperate for a way to escape, maybe one of his crew members who would miraculously come to the rescue, or an unexpected ally.  Like (Y/N).
"Wo wo wo wo, no no no no, wait wait!"
He opened his mouth and begged, probably to suggest some kind of pact, to promise (Y/N) a place among his crew like he did with Luffy before, but before he could say anything else, the rubber boy already threw him into the sky.
And that was the last time she thought she would see Buggy The Clown. Little did she know, she was wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
Let's say that the days to come were anything but calm. From the Kuro Incident™, at least they won Usopp's friendship and the Going Merry, one of the cutest ships she has ever seen, to be fair.
And then they arrived at the Baratie, where they met the oh, so attentive Sanji, Zoro was about to die, and Nami... Nami left with the fishmen. Although (Y/N) was on Luffy and Sanji's side when they claimed something bad was actually happening, because she wouldn't have chosen to leave with them just like that, without a hidden, ugly reason behind. Didn't fit in with the idea she had of the ginger.
"I know someone who knows where to find her," says her "captain" when they all discuss their next step.
"Hello boys!" Buggy's head coughs and exclaims in the most forced, sarcastic way possible. Imagine threatening to kill those people after kidnapping them less than a week ago, and now your life depends on them. Low blow, if someone asked her. "Sweetheart." He then smirked devilishly when he saw (Y/N) a little further back, resting her side on the kitchen counter. Surprised to see him and the way he calls her, she raises an eyebrow and gives a small, amused smile. "Hello Buggy."
"Arg, Doll! I'm so happy to see a beautiful face like yours around here." The clown shouts when (Y/N) comes out on deck after several hours organizing the pantries with Sanji. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye with a little smile on her lips when she leaves a snack for Usopp and goes towards the bow of the ship or, in fewer words = in the opposite direction to where her mere existence is spiritually needed. The clown is already tired of giving Usopp directions after all morning arguing where to go, so infatuated and hypnotized by the mysterious aura that surrounds the woman, he doesn’t give up, and his head floats in the direction of the girl, following her, resting right by her side as she sits on the ground, legs falling over the ship's railing and out to the sea.
"Pretty sure you didn't hear me back there" because the idea of someone ignoring him was unthinkable. A war crime. An insult to God itself. He was still Buggy The Clown, The Flashy Fool, even without his crew. Or his ship. Or his body. Fucking hell, what did he have left apart from the head? "I was saying I'm glad I'm not only surrounded by idiots. Having your beautiful face around here makes standing them much easier." He flirts, winking an eye, which (Y/N) doesn't fully get but finds kinda interesting. "We had a moment the other day, right? It wasn't just my imagination, I know it."
"Yeah, we totally had a moment" She agrees, clearly being sarcastic to everyone but him.  "You kidnapped us, you called me pretty, you searched me, I threatened you, you liked it..." she lists, lying her back on the deck, arms raised, own head resting on her hands, enjoying the breeze, the sun, and the smell of the salty water. 
"I loved it," he corrects her after emitting a little grunt of satisfaction, vividly remembering that scene. What would he not give to go back and enjoy it a little bit more before the rest of her crew ruined his entire day -week- so blatantly and unnecessarily over the top.
"You're welcome. Any time." She answers after an amused giggle, eyes closed.
"Don't tempt me."
"Now tell me," Buggy resumes the conversation after about 30 seconds of silence. He clearly doesn't know how to enjoy it. He is that type of person for whom silence not only makes him uncomfortable, but also terrifies him. Theatre kid. "What's a woman like you doing with a bunch of insufferable kids like them? I know they're trying to organize their boy band and go on adventures around the world, but you... you should look for someone more suitable to your needs, capable of giving you different stimuli. More mature." He adds in the end with a low, seductive tone of voice, shamelessly feeding on the image of the curve of her body now that she's not paying visual attention to him.
"Hmhm. Maybe I'll look for them." She answers nonchalantly, just because. She finds really entertaining this type of tug-flirting-war. Even if he's the only one that flirts and she just gives him opportunities to do so.
"You don't have to look too far." He was so cliché, how cute.
"You talk too much to be no more than a floating head."
"I could always put my tongue to better use." Snapping her eyes open, (Y/N) holds her breath for a second, taking in what she just heard = what he just offered. That would be, literally, giving head. In all the glorious sense of the expression. Raising both eyebrows, she turns her face on the ground to observe him, nibbling at her lower lip. She seems to consider it for a few seconds, because no, she cannot deny how interesting and, at the same time, weird, degenerate, the idea is. But before he has the opportunity to keep talking his way into convincing her, she breaks into a cruel smile and decides to cut his mood "You mean like guiding us to the Konomi islands instead of talking with me? You're right, you should get back to work."
He looks at her like he was just betrayed by his second in command, hoping she would agree by the expression on her face seconds ago, the way she looked at him and how she was biting her own lip in that tortuous way that pushed him to want -need- to do it by himself.
"Wait, no need to play difficult with me sweetheart, I--" But it's too late, (Y/N) is already standing, grabbing Buggy's head between her hands, and before he could add anything else, she winks at him, kiss one of his cheeks, screams at the top of his lungs "USOPP!! CATCH HIM!" and throws his head like she was playing volleyball, Usopp jumping to be able to reach him, both of them celebrating the pass like children, ignoring Buggy's complaints.
The third time he flirts -tries to- with her, she's back on the deck, helping Zoro and Sanji moving some things around. He begins to scream desperately, and knowing damn well that if no one pays attention to him he won't stop even if that means losing his voice, she approaches, hands on her hips, sighing as she looks at him like someone that is about to regret getting close to a crying, annoying child. "What's wrong with you?" she asks dryly, pressing her lips together. "Ah, my guardian angel. Could you do me the favor of scratching me behind my ear?" Oh. A waaay more harmless request than she expected. Of course, she relents, because she sees nothing wrong with this small favor; she’s quite the empathetic, and in his place she would surely prefer to jump headfirst -ba dum tss- into the sea rather than suffer that itch and not be able to scratch it. After granting his wish, just as she is about to leave, Buggy moves his head much faster than anyone would predict, to catch one of the girl's fingers in his mouth and suck and lick and nibble, in a… God, a sample of what he could do with his tongue somewhere else.
A shiver runs down (Y/N)'s spine, and it reaches a pleasurable end between her legs, causing her to press them together as she inhales deeply.
"Wanna see what else I can do?" He whispers as he releases her. She can hear him over the crash of the waves against the hull of the boat, eyes fixed on his face, will to complain nowhere to be seen. Bold, not in a hundred years she would have expected that. And for a moment, she is tempted. That has been undeniably attractive. And it had a really strong effect on her. "I would gladly show you if you let me, you just have to ask, sugar lips. I bet it's been a damn long time you don't treat yourself--"
"(Y/N)!!" Zoro calls her, instantly exploding the bubble between Buggy and her.
She sighs in relief because only God knows she was close to give up. Then swallows, shakes her head exaggeratedly to shake herself out of his spell, and, licking her lips, gives the clown a mischievous smile, recomposing herself. "Nice try"
"Stop trying to deny the obvious" He tried again for the... 5th time? She /really/ lost count during their journey. Appearing from nowhere, he startled her in the process. He was now in a shelf of the kitchen, at the same height as the girl's face. "The chemistry between us is unbearable, you can see it from miles away." Jumping to approach the edge of the shelf, his eyes look her up and down. "Turns me on how you play hard to get because I don't like easy things either, so I respect your game," he nods, raising an eyebrow "But come on... I know you like me. I've seen how you look at me or bite your lip when I flirt with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."
This whole thing was really trying her patience. Not because she wanted to fuck him off, but because she knows that all that flirting would end with her giving in and doing something she certainly shouldn't. As of for now, he had gotten her to vaguely consider it, and she had to admit, she was growing some kind of attraction slash fondness slash crush for him, but it wasn't enough to fall to her knees.
He wanted war, tho? He would have it.
"You're right, I like you, but you know, I like my men body and all, capable of grabbing me by the hips and pushing me on theirs, to fuck me and make me scream their name until I lose my voice. To make it difficult for me to walk straight the day after." she whispers, approaching him slowly until they share the same air, her nose touching his red one. (Y/N) closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her tongue caresses her own lips, almost touching the clown’s ones too. Yes, she likes him, she has some sort of twisted soft spot for men who ranged from intimidating psychopath to the most pathetic human being depending on the day, and Buggy was the perfect example for that. "And you..." she tilts her head to the side, attempting to close the distance between each other and kiss him, but at the last second she withdraws, leaving the poor clown with his eyes closed, waiting for the touch of her dreamy lips. "Unfortunately you're just a head."
"Try again when you get your whole body back!"
1K notes · View notes
renthony · 8 months
Text
One of the most irritating things in the goddamn world is the way people will immediately go "LMAO YOU HAVE A FOOT FETISH!" at any artist who happens to draw a foot.
I've been browsing online for different anatomy references and working on studies, and every single time I see an artist practicing anatomy of the feet, some jackass has to show up and make some joke about "lmao foot fetish, foot fetish! Put those things away! Ew!"
There's nothing wrong with having a foot fetish, and I think it's really fucking weird that people can't stop making "lol foot fetish" jokes at artists practicing anatomy. Especially since it doesn't seem to happen with other body parts?
Everyone knows hands are hard to draw, so I've never seen anyone looking at an artist's hand studies and make "lol hand fetish!" jokes. I don't see it for eyes. Or noses. Or ears. Just for feet.
Meanwhile, I know plenty of artists who go out of their way to avoid drawing feet ever, even when omitting the feet looks weird, because clowns online are over-eager to make foot fetish jokes the second they catch a single glimpse of anything vaguely foot-shaped. I have seen it genuinely hit the level of full-on sexual harassment, with people trying to "prove" that the artist must really be a foot fetishist making secret fetish art.
And it's fucking weird that people think that's funny instead of a form of invasive harassment.
2K notes · View notes
kairiscorner · 7 months
Text
₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆ trick or treat.
summary: spending a spooky halloween with your beloved spider people🕷️🕸️🎃
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
miles morales (1610)
matching costumes 🕸️
"come on now, babe, don't be shy! you're gorgeous!" miles gushed with his phone aimed at the slightly ajar closet door you were hiding behind, giggling and telling miles to quit filming you. he chuckles back as he approaches the door to open it. "babe! i can't go out alone like this, it's like having a pb and j sandwich without the jelly! you're my jelly, love, come out, you're beautiful in the costume!" he says in between giggles, his dimples popping out from his chocolate colored cheeks.
he smiles even wider and takes your hand gently as you reluctantly and shyly come out, smiling like a dork as you internalize how ridiculous, yet cute, you two look when paired up together. "see? you're smiling! you're so... wow." he mutters as he ends up staring at you from his screen, still filming you in the costume, all flustered. "you are, quite literally, my perfect other half." he gushes as he brings his phone to the front camera setting, smiling widely as he ends the video and takes a cute selfie between you two.
miles morales (42)
playing spooky pranks on the other 🕷️
"mi cielo? babe, c'mon where are you...?" miles calls out as he wanders around your house; you were in the kitchen mere moments ago, and it wasn't like you to just go radio silent on him, especially when he was right there in the living room chilling earlier. you were hiding under the cupboard, with a ghoulish mask on, giggling to yourself under your breath as you pictured how your usually, outwardly stoic boyfriend would get all frightened by your little surprise.
miles sighed as he entered the kitchen, getting worried. "cariño...? hey, now, this isn't funny..." he mumbled. then, a hand grabbed at his left ankle, and he squealed. "mier–!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening and his voice reaching new heights as you slowly emerged out of the cupboard, saying im a raspy voice, "happy halloween, babe."
miles screamed loudly, jumping backwards in surprise and landing on his butt. when he saw your neck down to your shoulders, he soon realized it was you. he furrowed his eyebrows and huffed. "that... was far from funny." he mumbled, embarrassed that his partner got the best of him, frightening the usually unfazed miles morales. you giggled and apologized, taking your mask off; miles huffed and kissed your nose in 'retaliation'. "no more candy tonight, sweetheart, that's your punishment." he said in a cold tone, heading to the fridge to take all the candy you two got from trick or treating to hide it away, trying to ignore your irresistible begging for him not to take your candy away.
gwen stacy
going to haunted houses 🎃
"see? nothing scary about these houses..." gwen said with an air of confidence as your shirked behind her, shuddering at the cold gusts of wind behind you, and feeling more and more frightened as the darkness settled in the further along you two went through the house.
gwen chuckled and held your hand. "love, don't worry–you're dating spider woman, you're not gonna get hurt any time s–" she was in the middle of telling you that you would be safe with her, until her spider sense tingled and she webbed the nearest threat to you, making you scream for a bit in fear. she webbed up a mechanical clown that was about to jumpscare you two, making her chuckle in surprise. "huh... one of the truly, remotely scary things i've seen all night." she said as she looked over at your side, kissing the side of your head as you clung to her.
"don't worry... you're safe with me. i won't let anything happen to you; i've got you." she reassured you with a smile that glowed in the dark, making you feel warmer and more secure.
pavitr prabhakar
trick or treating 🕷️
"trick or treat!" pavitr exclaimed all cheerfully, holding your hand as you both held out little baskets you two handcrafted together in preparation for halloween. you two weren't alone, though, you both invited several kids in the neighborhood to go trick-or-treating with; and it was the most fun you've had all year.
pavitr traded some candies with the kids, his eyes sparkled when he saw your costume, not taking his eyes off you and his smile not fading for even a second when you two headed down to the first few houses down the block. he grinned widely whenever the kids would compliment you two for your costumes, baskets, and would tease you two for being 'cootie magnets' with how sweet you two were being to each other as the trick-or-treating went on.
"i know we look like we're getting too old for halloween... but i wear a costume every day, 24/7, and i never feel ashamed; because i know you love me whether i'm in the costume or not, and i know i love you every single day, no matter what you wear." he complimented you, then kissing you on the cheek swiftly, and pulling away. he had the dorkiest grin on his face, he couldn't contain his joy, he wished halloween would be forever!
hobie brown
scary movie night 🕸️
"just tell me if you get scared, 'aright? my arms are always open to holding you, love." hobie teases you as you playfully toss a cushion at him, curling up with him soon after as you two put on a scary movie to watch. hobie always got invested in these movies, he always somehow managed to sleep soundly at night even after watching the most terrifying, cinematic scenes from thriller or horror flicks!
you felt yourself getting a little uneasy, the hairs on your body sticking up a bit as the climax for the movie was approaching. you sat up on the couch a bit, shifting your gaze from here to there to hobie. his eyes met yours after he looked away from the screen a bit to look at his beloved: you. "y'aright, dear?" he asked you, with you reluctantly nodding, doing everything you could to avoid the screen coming into view.
hobie wrapped his arm around your shoulders, smirked, and held your close. he leaned down towards you and kissed your forehead gently. "you don't have to keep watching, angel, i can lower the volume for you if it makes you feel more comfy." he whispered to you as you fright got replaced with a fluster. hobie grinned as he kissed your nose, now, washing away all your fear and filling you with so much love in those two kisses and in his prolonged touch, even with a scary movie playing in the background.
miguel o'hara
pumpkin carving 🎃
"this... is just plain awful." miguel huffs in frustration as the carving knife he was using to etch a face on the gourd you gave him ended up looking like a partially mashed pumpkin. you giggled as you comforted him, turning the gourd around and helping him carve a clearer face on the backside. your softer hand on his coarser, bigger one made him focus on the softness, the silkiness of your skin as opposed to carving the gourd before him. he involuntarily leaned against you, kind of... sort of... messing up on purpose to get you to stay and keep your hands on his own.
by the time you two finish, you compare the carved face on the gourd to how miguel looks like when he's smiling, and he isn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but your darling smile and bewitching laughter at that astute observation makes his heart skip a beat. the corners of his lips turn up a bit, and you were right—his smile looked a bit crooked, a bit rough around the edges, but beautiful nonetheless.
1K notes · View notes
sordidmusings · 6 months
Text
Thirsty Thursday with Insecure Buggy
Tumblr media
A/N: Yay another Thirsty Thursday lol next I’m gonna be getting out less explicit things but for now have more smut sluts 🖤 thank you to @fanaticsnail for hyping me love you ♥(ノ´∀`)
Word Count: ~3k
Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), all NSFW, getting down to nonsense on The Clown Throne, chop chop fuckery, praise, dirty talk, thigh riding, handjob, blowjob, face fucking kind of, clothed sex, lots of desperation and neediness, almost sub!Buggy, he gives you many pet names, praising Buggy because he's somewhat convinced you're doing this for the bit
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
Buggy couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure, you’d flirted with him often, but he figured you must be doing that with everyone if it was coming his way. He was certain you were out of his league; if your steadfast dedication and addicting personality weren’t enough then looking at you would let anyone know why. He’d seen members of his crew float around you in search of connection so why would you float to him?
“Stop thinking so hard, baby,” you whisper in his ear before going back to sucking on his neck. Your hips continue their steady grinds against the long erection trapped in his pants. Buggy’s head is leaned back and tilted, desperately offering you as much skin as he can to feel more of your kisses blazing across him. The heat of your mouth and tongue radiate out to his whole body, emptying his mind and quickening his heart. He pants, feeling like air wasn’t enough, but he holds back most of his moans, only letting the ones he could force deep in his voice to go by. He doesn’t want to move too much or be too loud for fear that it would startle you out of whatever has gotten into you to make you climb on top of him on his throne. His hips do work with you though; he couldn’t stop himself from grinding back into you if he tried. The warmth and weight of you is better than his private thoughts could conjure and the way your thighs and ass molded to him make him feel like he could properly attach to you and never let go. The thought of being tied together has his fingers digging harder into your thighs and even gets a whinier moan passing his open lips.
“Captain, you sound so good,” you praise him. You’ve long noticed his hesitation and want to unravel him. Pulling back to look at his face, you bat your lashes at him. “Can I have more?”
“Fuck, dollface, you’re gonna make me lose my head,” Buggy groans. Even in his overwhelm he manages to tilt his face down and waggle his brows at the stupid reference to his powers. You give him a huff of a laugh for his efforts, while your hands curl around the fur lining his jacket. You jerk him towards you, stopping him just short of your noses meeting. Letting him wait for a moment, you watch his hooded eyes admire you, looking first into yours before flicking over your face and settling on your lips. His tongue flicks out to wet his own and you dive in to chase it back into his mouth.
Buggy meets you eagerly, vibrating a grumbling moan into you. His hips pick up beneath you while his hands massage up your thighs to begin working into the meat of your hips. Once they’ve properly sunk in, he guides your hips against him in a needy pace, dragging his hardness deliciously against your clothed cunt. He relishes in the pleased sighs and moans he earns from you, each one making his chest flutter and his dick throb. He wants to slow down and keep this going as long as possible but he can’t help himself.
You shift back and to the left, centering your pulsing cunt on top of Buggy’s right thigh. He hates the distance and uses his clinging grip to pull you flush to him. The whole way, delicious pressure licks at your swollen clit. The closeness has his hip bone snuggled up to your mound, feeling divine when grinding lets it offer indirect pressure to your bud. You had wanted to bounce closer to his knee but this is a wonderful substitute, since you’re craving closeness just as much as he is. Buggy continues guiding you against him, pressing his forehead down into your shoulder to keep himself from moving you too quickly.
Your hands slide up and tug his bandana off, releasing his long hair. It feels so nice with your hands fisted into it. At your light tug, Buggy moans loud and long, sounding fucked out without even getting inside you. “Doll, pleaaaaase.” He isn’t even sure what he’s begging for. Wanting to muffle the whiny sounds leaving him, Buggy turns his face to bury it in your neck, working hard to send tingles across your skin and leave you with pretty marks. He knows they’ll look gorgeous under the smears of his makeup.
“Wanna taste you,” you moan to him and his cock throbs hard. He bites out a breathy “fuck” at the idea and bites eagerly at you, but he won’t let you move back. He can’t stand any distance from you at the moment but refuses to voice that. You figure it out, however, when his right hand slides up your spine to keep your chest pressed tight to his. One of your hands leaves his hair to pull at his waistband and shove beneath it. His cock feels hot and wet in your hand, making your head spin at how worked up he is for you - he’s positively dripping.
“You’re fucking perfect, Captain,” you groan, feeling his dick jump at your words. Buggy trembles beneath you, overwhelmed at your touch and the euphoria of hearing you praise him. He’d rarely let himself enjoy cumming to the fantasy of you calling him pretty things; he found that it made a lonely ache settle in his heart once the burning joy drained out of his chest, leaving him alongside the delusions of your affection. But you’re real now, fulfilling his wishes and why?
“Don’t taunt me,” Buggy grumbles, some actual anger creeping into his tone.
“I’m not,” you respond incredulously.
“I’m not exactly everyone’s cup of tea,” he grouses, slowing his movements in his souring mindset. His body at least is still as eager; his cock stays just as rock hard in your hand. You keep up your slow pumping and turn to trail sweet kisses across his shoulder and up his neck. The flowing strands of his hair that spill everywhere feel just as soft against your lips as they do on your fingertips. You reach his ear, which peaks out between the blue rivers of his hair.
“Well you’re my cup of tea, and if I had my way you’d just be mine,” you whisper, tickling his ear with your hot breath. Buggy ramps up the circling of your hips again, moaning prettily for you.
“Don’t say that,” he whines. His eyes are scrunched shut, protecting himself from the temptation of your words and how quickly your touch is beginning to send him to his end.
“Fine. Then I’ll say this.” You pull a shiver from him by nipping his ear earlobe. “You’ve got the prettiest eyes and the most handsome face I’ve ever seen,” you begin, moving your hand lower to fondle his heavy balls. He shifts his thighs wider to beg for more. “It’s like your jaw was cut from marble and that stubble is so fucking hot.” You use the hand in his hair to pull his head up and rub your cheek into the scratch of his dark blue facial hair. “I’ve been dying to see what you look like under your clothes; watching those muscles of yours in your arms work is enough to get me daydreaming.” Buggy thinks that sounds great; he’s feeling way too hot for all the layers on his body. “Even more than that, I need to touch you.” You slide your grip back up to give him a squeeze and thumb at the head of his cock. “I’ve thought about it every day - thought about you making me yours.”
“Shut up,” Buggy begs weakly, his body and mind burning uncontrollably for you.
“Detach this,” you order, squeezing his cock again. Buggy obeys without thought, head too busy drowning in your praises. You pull him from his trousers with ease, since he only detached his actual penis, and bring it up to your lips. You place a loving kiss on his frenulum before flicking your tongue on it playfully. Buggy jolts back to look at you with foggy eyes. His swollen lips look so pretty, hanging open to pant and highlighted by all that red paint. You won’t tell him because you know how sensitive he is, but his red nose matching his red lips looks beautiful and makes all the blue in his eyes, makeup, and hair even more handsome.
Buggy’s eyes are glued to you to watch his tip disappear into your mouth right next to his face. His eyes flutter with the want to roll back but he stubbornly keeps them on you, needing to absorb this in his memory. You’re inching him in slowly, letting him catch every detail of the act that was making him feel so fucking good. The swirl of your tongue against him makes his eyes shut a few moments before blinking open again. High moans struggle out of him with his breath and his brow creases above his glossy eyes. When the tip reaches the back of your mouth, you give a firm suck around him. He groans and stutters the pace of your hips, fingers twitching against you.
You pull him back out of your mouth and loll your tongue out to lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock. Continuing to put on a show, you sweep the tip of your tongue around his head before licking your lips and swallowing heavily. You get a show in return, watching pleasure and need play out clearly on his flushed face.
“Oh shit, sugar, you’re so fucking good for me,” Buggy moans. You sink him all the way into your mouth again for his hungry gaze. His voice turns reverent as he watches you. “My doll -hah- my spotlight.” Fuck, that sent you clenching. You grind your hips down into him harder while you pull him back out to suckle at his head. His warmth is still seeping right into your hips and thighs even through his leather pants and your shorts, the seam of which was pulling tight and teasing at you perfectly. You were beginning to struggle with thrusting Buggy into your mouth while he turns your mind to mush with the way his death grip is grinding you onto him. You get an idea for a solution and a shiver crawls up your spine in anticipation.
“Fuck me, Buggy,” you plead on a whisper before sliding him back past your lips. Buggy throws his head back, clunking it into the wood of his seat, and gasps out a “yes”. His dick begins moving on its own, tentatively grinding against your tongue first to get you used to it. Slowly, his shallow movements gain more length but keep their indulgently slow pace. Once he’s approaching your throat on the push in, you ease your head backwards to line him up. Buggy pants out curses at your willingness to be used and to please him, swearing to himself that he’ll pay you back ten times over for doing this for him.
The rest of his thoughts leave him when he slides his dick lower to stretch out the entrance of your throat. You are in a similar state, struck with the heady feeling of him using you in such a sinful way. It’s deliciously overwhelming in conjunction with the buzzing shooting through you from rubbing your pussy across his leg. A loud moan shakes through your throat, into his head, up his shaft and Buggy loses any ability to hold back.
He curls into you, burying his face into your shoulder and neck, moaning and whining against you. The hand at your back is clawing and tugging at you, desperate to keep you as close as possible, while the one on your hip continues encouraging your heavy grinds into his thick thigh. The muscle keeps tensing against your drooling pussy, helping to increase the friction. The seat underneath you both groans at your growing motions but you ignore it as easily as you ignore the armrests digging into your knees. Buggy is the only thing on your mind - the push and pull of his grasp, the overwhelmed sounds spilling from his lips, the pressure of his thigh sparking pleasure through you, and the thick cock fucking your breath out of you. The need to breathe through your nose causes you to take in lungfuls of his musk and shampoo and salty air. 
“My sweet -nngh- sweet star, you feel so -hahn- good taking me like that,” Buggy pants, painting your neck with humid breath. He’s losing himself to the sloppy sounds of his dick fucking your mouth and the fervent vibrating moans you use to sing out how good he’s making you feel. “Need to slow down or -aaaahh- you’re gonna make me cum too soon-Fuck!” You had forced the curse from him by groaning even louder to the thought of him cumming.
Keeping his arm around you, Buggy detaches his hand to sneak it into the front of your shorts. His eyes roll back when he feels how wet you are; enough that your grinding already smeared it up and over your clit. “You’re so damn perfect, sweetness, can’t -nnngah- believe you’re here riding my thigh,” he moans. He begins sliding shapes over your swollen bud, needing you to be as close as he is. His words and ministrations have you sobbing around the slow thrusts of his cock. Despite your efforts to swallow your spit around him, a thin line of drool has begun to creep from the corner of your mouth and down your cheek. 
Buggy’s fingertips are trapped tight to you from your clothes and his thigh, his hip also keeping his hand curled firmly against your mound. Hot, syrupy pleasure is swirling through your clenching walls and thrumming strongly behind your clit. Your struggling breath keeps your mind scattered and hazy and sets tingles alight in your hands and feet. Each drumming beat of your heart highlights the promise of bliss tearing through your body.
“Need you to cum for me, dollface,” Buggy rushes out, “Ple-hease -hnnggaahhh- can you do that? -hhah- For me?”
Becoming overwhelmed with the pressure pounding between your hips, you twist your fist tighter into his thick hair, getting a heavy groan from him. Clumsy and frantic, your right hand moves back into his pants and cups his balls, earning a jerk of his hips - a bright shock to your clit.
“Fuck, doll! Don’t stop, don’t stop-”
Your hips are shaking in his grasp, adding jolts of extra friction on top of your steady bounces and his consistent swirling fingers. Buggy’s hips move to match the thrusts of his cock, massaging his tightening balls into your hand. His babbling gets higher and less and less coherent, matching the desperate way his dick twitches and throbs in your mouth. He’s gotten sloppy there, getting you to gag occasionally around his length when he accidentally shoves a little too deep or off rhythm. It gets you even dizzier and closer, feeling messy and animalistic in this rabid chase for each other’s climax.
“Gonna cum, sweetheart, shit -nhah!- please I-” He’s already over the edge, pressing too deep into your throat and spurting hot cum for you to swallow. You would have choked if you didn’t catch your orgasm right with him, relaxing your throat and letting you swallow mindlessly. Both of you shook and clung to each other through the ride, hearts pumping scorching heat through your bodies. You can feel each of his breaths cramming his chest into yours and causing your breasts to rub against him. The tingling from your nipples was swept right into the whirlpool moving through you. 
Still pumping cum, Buggy pulls his cock back to rest the head on your tongue, which starts massaging at him, seeking more twitches and more to drink. Buggy is crying curses into your neck, well into the realm of ‘too much’ but adoring the way he feels like you’ve pulled him apart at the seams, coaxing the longest orgasm he’s known from him in throbs that just keep coming and coming and coming. You’re doing no better, marveling at the endless waves that seize your muscles and have colors dancing behind your scrunched eyelids. The flood of your orgasm slams through your whole body, saturating every nerve, before the receding tides are dragging and pulling at your trembling limbs.
In the wake of your pleasure, both of you are left to slump against each other, panting loudly. Buggy’s hand moves back to the arm held around you and joins the hand on your hip in the act of trailing soothing fingertips across your overworked muscles. You begin peppering happy kisses on Buggy’s shoulder, managing more and more as your breathing settles. You’re overcome with the need to smother him in affection, shimmying yourself to be centered on his lap and hugging him tight, snuggling your cheek into the crook of his neck. You card your fingers through his soft hair and scratch gently at his tender scalp. A rumbling moan leaves him at the feeling, and you giggle lightly at how much it reminds you of a purring cat.
“Can I-” You cut yourself off, feeling uncharacteristically hesitant. Buggy hums and tilts his head against yours to prompt you to continue. “Can I sit with you here awhile?”
Buggy’s heart is fluttering at your words, making him fully lovesick in the swirl of endorphins. You thought he’d just want to fuck you and send you away? He can’t be fucked to guess at why you’ve chosen him at the moment, not after all that. He’s just going to do his damnedest to make the choice worth your while.
“Spotlight, pumpkin,” Buggy breathes, “you’re never leaving my side.”
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
I had to add this at the end because it just fits too fucking well 💀💀💀
Tumblr media
812 notes · View notes
ladykailitha · 8 months
Text
Spooky season is here and I was just thinking about that tiktok (maybe) of the couple at the haunted house where the guy pushes the girl onto the feet of the ax wielding haunt and then the girl and haunt have a conversation that ends with the girl chasing the asshole with the ax and the haunt happily following her.
But make that Steddie. Steve as the girl. Set between seasons 3 and 4, but in a world where Steve going on a date with a man is surprise not a thing of revulsion (as in people would surprised that he was dating a guy having been a ladies man in high school, but no one would give him shit about it). Because it's my sand box, damn it. I make the rules here!
*
Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to go on this date with Jeremy. He didn't like haunted houses. He had seen too many real horrors in his life be frightened of fake ones. But Robin said he could pretend to be scared and cling to the guy's arm, maybe even get a kiss out of it.
What he wasn't expecting was for it to actually terrify him. He was clutching Jeremy's arm the whole way through, chanting in his head "don't hurt them, it's not real." Over and over again whenever the urge to push the actors away or in one extreme case when they were in the haunted hospital break the doctor's nose.
The actor looked too much like Dr Brennan, and while the patient on the gurney wasn't a girl or even had shaved hair, but Steve's protective instinct went into overdrive. It took every ounce of self-will Steve had to keep clutching Jeremy's arm.
They finally hit a room that didn't look so bad. It had a wood floor and four garish statues, one in each corner. Their fog machine was working in high gear but seemed to collect around one figure in particular.
It held an ax over its head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The robes that gathered around its sandled feet were perfectly rendered in stone. The sleeves of the robe revealed a couple of bat tattoos on the right forearm.
Steve was entranced, he let go of Jeremy's arm for the first time since they started and took a step toward it.
It was then the actor jumped off his pedestal and swung his ax down.
Jeremy did the inexplicable. Maybe even outright despicable thing. He pushed Steve forward into the waiting arms of ax murder. Steve stumbled landing on the actor's feet.
"Whoa!" the actor asked. "Are you okay?" He put the ax down and helped Steve get to his feet.
"Did he really just shove me at you to save his own ass?" Steve asked in shock.
The actor cocked his head to the side. "That's what it looked like to me. I hope that was a friend and not a date..."
Steve winced. "Sadly, the latter."
"Fuck, dude," the actor said. He spotted the ax. "You want to get revenge?" He picked up the ax and handed it to Steve.
Steve laughed. "Hell yeah!"
He ran after Jeremy, very plastic ax in hand, the actor cheering him on.
The next room was holding Jeremy so that he wouldn't be split from Steve and gotten lost. It was full of evil clowns. Something that apparently Jeremy was terrified of, judging by the screaming he had been doing.
The actors spotted Steve coming at their prey with an ax and Eddie cheering him from behind, they immediately clocked what had probably gone down. They let Jeremy pass them and two of the clowns broke off to chase him out of the haunted house, gaining cast members with each passing room (still enough remaining to scare other patrons but obviously gaining a crowd to hound this guy.)
He exited the haunted house screaming obscenities at Steve and the actors. The crowd laughing and pointing. He got into his car and drove off.
The smile slid off Steve's face. "Fuck. There goes my ride home."
The ax murder laughed as all the other actors went back inside. He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown curls and grey face paint around his eyes on his lips. "I've gotcha, big boy."
"Eddie Munson, right?" Steve asked when he finally placed the face.
"Aww," Eddie cackled. "You do remember me."
Steve scoffed. "Kinda hard to forget."
Eddie's grin grew big. "Duly noted." He scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry about the shitty date though."
Steve shrugged. "It turned out more fun then I thought it would."
Eddie cocked his head again. "True. It's not every day you get chase away a bad date with plastic ax."
Steve handed it back to him. "Shouldn't you be getting back? Won't the other patrons find it odd when the room is empty of scares?"
Eddie smiled slyly. "Who says I left my post unattended?"
Steve's eyes went wide. "How many more of the statues are actors?"
Eddie leaned forward into his space. "I'll never tell," he said sing-song.
Steve laughed.
"Just let me inform my boss I'm taking you home and clean up this makeup, I'll get you home, Stevie," Eddie said.
"You don't have to do that," Steve mumbled. "I'm sure I could call someone."
Eddie shook his head. "Nah, I've got you."
"Thanks."
Ten minutes later Eddie was back on the pavement standing next to Steve. He was back in his usual shredded black jeans and leather jacket. But he wore a denim vest over top of it.
"I like the vest," Steve murmured. "I like pins and things."
"Patches," Eddie said.
Steve hummed his confusion.
"The other things are patches," Eddie explained.
Steve smiled. "That's cool."
Eddie pulled up to Steve's house without asking for directions.
"Should I ask how you knew that?" Steve asked as he got out of the van.
Eddie just waggled his eyebrows as he got out of the van too.
"You gonna walk me to the door, Eds?" Steve asked with a smirk.
"These woods behind your house are pretty fucking scary, dude," Eddie said with a huff of laughter.
Steve just shook his head and bit his tongue to avoid saying exactly how much.
They got to his door and Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's lips.
It was sweet and warm. "What was that for?" Steve asked, breathlessly.
"Isn't that what you do at the end of a date?" Eddie asked with a teasing grin. "Walk them to door and give them a kiss good night?"
Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is. Good night, Eds."
"Good night, Stevie."
Eddie walked to his van. "If you want to go on a date that doesn't end you chasing your date with an ax, you know where to find me."
Steve grinned. "I might just take you up on that. Provided it's not another haunted house."
"Don't worry, baby," Eddie said with grin. "I'm loyal. Just a one haunted house kind of guy."
Steve shook his head and unlocked the door. Before he close it behind him he could hear Eddie celebrating, cheering and hollering.
Robin was never going to believe him when he told her how his date went.
But that's okay. She was right. It was fun.
*
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @vecnuthy
852 notes · View notes