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the-anxious-youth · 7 months

Text

Bubbles

Pairing: Buggy x gender neutral!Reader

Summary: While he's being held captive by the Straw Hats, Buggy won't shut up, which gives you an idea.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff, some mentions of insecurities from Buggy but nothing too angsty

Word Count: 4.2k

Author's note: This idea came to me while I was daydreaming the other day, and I just had to write it down. This is based off of the live-action Buggy, although I am only on the second episode so it may not be canon-accurate. Also, he has long hair in this cause I said so (begging to see Jeff Ward with long hair next season). Hope y'all enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! There will be a part 2, don’t worry <3 (The banners are from cafekitsune)

Edit: part two is up!

“So now what?”

The collection of Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, and yourself stood in a circle, discussing what to do with a certain clown pirate’s head. Usopp is the first to speak up after Luffy asked the question.

“Well, we can’t leave him unsupervised; who knows what he’d get up to.” Everyone turned to look at Buggy’s detached head, which wore a cheeky look, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I vote Y/N to take care of it,” Zoro states blankly, crossing his arms as he speaks.

“Hey! I’m still a person, even without the body, so don’t refer to me as it!” The objection comes from the animated head, vexation seeping through his tone. Your mouth momentarily twitches upward at his little outburst, it was almost reminiscent of a kitten hissing after unwanted pets.

“Why do I have to babysit him?” You turn to Zoro, matching his apprehensive stance. He meets your gaze with a cold look. You hadn’t been a part of the straw hat crew for long, and Zoro was taking his sweet time warming up to you.

“Because you’re the newest here, and that’s how hierarchy works.”

His tone left no room for argument. Your shoulders slump, and you let out an irritated sigh, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you walk over to pick up Buggy, making sure to be gentle. The clown winks at you, a flirty smile on his face. You take him back to your cabin, not wanting to risk accidentally dropping him overboard. Despite only being a head, a smug aura radiates around him, already planning ways to mess with you.

You reach your cabin and kick the door open with your foot. Being the newest member of the straw hat crew, you were given the smallest room, not that you really minded. You place Buggy down on your bed, moving to sit at the small desk in the corner of the room.

“So what are we going to do first, darling?” Buggy smirks as he talks, clearly trying to get under your skin.

“We? There is no we. You’ll sit there quietly while I go over these maps.” You bark, not even bothering to spare him a glance.

“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?” You can hear the tease in his tone and can tell that he’s grinning without having to look at him.

“You’re not here to have fun. You’re being held captive, remember?” Smoothing your fingers out over the maps, you tilt your head, trying to focus.

“Yes, but who says captivity can’t be enjoyable?” His question shocks you, and you turn to gaze at him with an unamused look. Realizing that he’s completely serious, you let out a scoff.

“You really are crazy, clown.”

He smiles smugly, not bothered by your comment.

“It’s more fun that way.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the maps, choosing to pretend he’s not there. ‘He must really like the sound of his own voice’, you think to yourself. The clown continues to talk your ear off, but after a while, you’re able to tune him out. Before long, you’ve analyzed all the maps. Turning back to him with a curious look, you realize he’s gotten to the end of some story you couldn’t care to listen to.

“And that’s why you don’t fall asleep on the beach.” Buggy smiles at you, enjoying your annoyance, watching you tilt your head at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” He purrs. Rolling your eyes, an idea pops into your head.

“Hey… I think I know how to get you to be quiet.” A sly smirk crawls its way across your face, and the clown’s chipper mood falters.

“Oh yeah? What might that be?” He tries to keep his confident demeanor, but the look on your face scares him.

You nibble on your bottom lip without responding before walking over to him and picking him up. This immediately wipes the smirk off his face, and he looks up at you, suddenly concerned for his safety.

“Hey now, what are you doing?” He asks nervously, secretly afraid you’ll throw him overboard for talking so much. You place him on top of your desk and move to grab the empty basin in the corner of the room.

“I’m giving you a bath,” you shrug nonchalantly, a cheeky smile on your face. He pales at that and laughs nervously.

“Wait, what do you mean? Are you going to waterboard me or something?” The look on the clown shows that he thinks it’s a real possibility, which causes you to chuckle.

“No, I’m just going to give you a bath; you smell like you could use one.” He just stares at you silently, quickly dropping his playful persona.

“What, cat got your tongue?” You mock him, and he gulps quietly. The fear in his eyes is quite amusing, you admit to yourself.

“You mean you’re literally going to bathe me?” A confused look crosses him, all the confidence in his voice gone.

“Yes.” You nod. “You look like you haven’t showered in weeks. Besides, now I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” A smirk crawls across your visage, enjoying seeing the trickster squirm. It wasn’t often the clown had the tables turned on him, and he definitely didn’t expect it coming from you.

“Now, wait a minute, I can be quiet without that.” He looks up at you worriedly, the idea of a bath visibly rattling him.

“But I thought you wanted to have fun?” Your smirk widens and you put a hand on your hip.

“Okay, I take it back. I’ll be good, I swear.” A nervous laugh emerges as he tries to break the tension.

“Too late.” His face drops, triggering a small chuckle from you.

“Oh, relax, will you? I’m technically doing you a favor.” This time, a genuine smile graces your face, which does nothing to calm his nerves. “Now stay.” You put your hand up as if you were talking to a canine, to which Buggy rolls his eyes, your other hand holding the metal basin.

“I’m not a dog,” he mutters softly, not having the courage to stand up to you entirely.

You leer at him, opening the door to leave before shutting it behind you. Sitting there quietly, Buggy questions how he even got here. Not before long, you return, the bucket full of warm water. You place it on the ground, grab the towel off your shoulder, fold it, and lay it on the bed.

“You’re serious?” He says quietly, watching you semi-curiously, shocked that you weren’t kidding. You hum softly and nod your head.

“I am.” Looking up at him, you can see the fear on his features, and your eyes soften a bit. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

He eyes you suspiciously, not sure whether or not to believe your words. Grabbing a small pouch, you pull out a bar of soap and a small bottle, which Buggy assumes is shampoo. Lastly, you grab a small wooden board and place it over the center of the tub.

“So you don’t drown,” you utter, his question practically visible on his face. He nods slowly in response, having a hard time believing the situation.

“I’ll have to take this off,” you gesture to his bandana and he bows his head in agreement, deciding not to fight it as you seem pretty determined. Gently removing the striped cloth, you fold it nicely and place it on the other side of the desk. Secondly, you remove the hair tie that kept his bright blue mane in a ponytail. Buggy watches you silently, interested in your next move. Softly grabbing the sides of his head, you place him on the wooden board that lies across the center of the tub.

“I’m going to wash your hair first, okay?”

He nods in response, curious eyes never leaving your face. You grab a small cup and fill it with warm water, asking him to lean his head backward so it doesn’t get in his eyes. The clown does as you say, though instead of closing his eyes, he keeps them glued on you, not trusting that you won’t dunk him in the water. You gently pour the water over his hair, moving your other hand to shield his eyes as he seems to want to keep them open. The usually talkative clown stays silent, not wanting to admit to himself that the warm water feels quite pleasant.

“When was the last time you actually washed your hair?”

He raises an eyebrow at your question, pondering it momentarily before replying.

“I, uh, I’m not sure.” A nervous chuckle escapes his lips, expecting you to laugh at him. Instead, you smile gently and continue pouring water onto his hair.

“I can tell.” The words contain no malice as you utter them, merely expressing an observation. Seeing that his hair was now thoroughly damp, you grab the small bottle of shampoo, pouring some out into one hand. Rubbing your hands together to form some bubbles, you move to start massaging the soap onto Buggy’s head.

“Were you born with this?” You ask curiously, referring to the cerulean color of his tresses. He raises his eyebrow at you, not expecting the question.

“I was.” Nodding as he speaks, his eyes continue to analyze your face as if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. You smile at him, continuing to lather the shampoo into his hair.

“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your words are soft, making sure that his whole scalp is covered in suds. He scoffs at this, thinking that you’re making fun of him. Momentarily pausing your movements, you lower your gaze to meet his eyes, finding insecurity dancing through them.

“I’m being serious. I wish I had brightly colored hair, maybe purple or something. Guess I wasn’t so lucky.” Going back to massaging his scalp, he looks up at you, utterly flabbergasted.

“You really think so?” He asks softly, timidity laced through his tone. You nod in response, a gentle smile on your face. Humming softly, the clown takes in the new information, wondering what else you think about him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the way your fingers carefully danced across his head felt incredible, not being able to remember the last time someone treated him so gently.

Reasoning that his hair was thoroughly soapy, you dunk your hands in the warm water to get rid of the remaining suds and quickly dry them with a towel. Subsequently grabbing the cup, you fill it with water and begin to wash the shampoo out of his hair. He stares at you all the while as if he is trying to commit your face to memory. After all the soap is washed out, you squeeze the ends of his hair to rid it of any excess water and grab a towel to wrap around his head. Leaning back to get a good look at him, you smile, finding his curious expression cute.

“Now for the face,” you utter, moving to grab a fresh towel and the bar of soap.

“Wait a second, you’re going to wash my face too?” asks Buggy, his timbre uneasy. You nod in response, replying in a steady tone.

“You’ve been wearing the makeup for so long that it’s partially gone.” Smiling at him softly, not expecting him to be so nervous. He laughs bitterly, not an ounce of humor in his voice.

“Can… can you just leave it?” His question is soft, and your surprise is visible on your face.

“You do know that leaving makeup on for too long is bad for your skin right?” You quip, trying to lighten his mood. Letting out a shaky breath, he shakes his head softly, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. Your smile drops, and you watch him for a moment, figuring out what to do next. His face paint seems to be a sensitive topic, and you don't want to push him too far.

“How about this,” you start, a kind smile returning to your face, “If you let me wash off this old makeup, I’ll redo it for you so it’s nice and fresh.” Sitting across from him calmly, you try to give off a safe and non-threatening aura to make him feel more comfortable around you. He stares at you for a moment, astonished that you would offer such a thing. You stay silent, patiently waiting for a response.

“You’d do that for me?” he asks after a moment, the surprise in his voice evident. You nod, making sure to maintain the soft smile on your face. “You’re in luck because I just got some new face paints.” Leaning over to open the drawer of your desk, you pull out a palette with every color of the rainbow on it and some clean brushes, holding them up so he could see. He tilts his head in response, trying to discern whether or not you were serious. After what feels like forever, he finally returns your smile and nods.

“Deal. Can you make it match how it normally looks?” He looks up at you with a soft smile, secretly hoping that you’ll do a decent job.

“Of course.” Grinning, you grab the towel and soap, excited that he’s letting you do this. You wet the soap bar, rubbing it between your hands to generate some bubbles, and gently start the wash the old makeup off his face. The clown continues to stare at you, though his energy is much more relaxed than before.

“You’re really pretty,” he comments after a moment, causing your hands to falter. Feeling the heat rise to your face, you smile, taking a moment to meet his gaze.

“You’re pretty too,” you mutter softly. Now that his face is mostly clean, you see a light blush begin to form on his cheeks.

“I’m nowhere near as pretty as you.” The confidence is back in his voice, and he winks at you flirtily. You can help breaking out into a smile, choosing not to say anything in response. He watches you quietly as you wash the soap off of his face. Unbeknownst to you, Buggy never let anyone see him without makeup, but something about you told him that he could trust you. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the view of your face being so close to his.

“Now for the fun part.” Grabbing the palette with one hand and a brush with another, you grin at him, excited to replicate his face paint. Truth be told, you loved doing makeup, but the only person who would let you do it was Luffy. There was one time Nami let you do hers, but it was after everyone else went to bed and she wiped it off immediately after. Your smile faltered at the thought of the orange-haired girl, and you remembered why Buggy was with your crew in the first place. The clown immediately noticed and looked up at you inquisitively.

“You okay?” He asks softly, already missing your smile. You nod and debate on telling him the truth, ultimately deciding that you should.

“I’m just thinking about Nami.” You force a smile back on your face, but Buggy can tell it’s not real.

“That’s the girl Arlong took, right? Fiery personality with hair to match?” He asks, and the description of her causes a genuine smile to come across your face. You nod softly.

“That’s the one.” Staring at him with interest, you wonder if he’ll tell you Arling’s location since he clearly knows it.

“We both know I know where they are, and truth be told I had no intention of telling any of you, but something about you is special.” Your eyes widen at his words, was he really going to give it up that easily?

“He’s at Arlong Park, and I’ll bet she’s with him. I’ll take you there, as a thank you for all this.” You beam at him, ecstatic at the thought of saving Nami. It’s at that moment when Buggy decides your smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rush out, your excitement getting the best of you. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and nods, a smile on his face as well.

“Now be quiet so I can do your makeup,” you say cheekily, dipping the brush into the white knowing that it’s the base for his signature look. He laughs in response but has one last thing to say.

“Do you need me to tell you how to do it?” He looks at you as you shake your head, your smile still prevalent.

“I’ve seen so many of your bounty posters, I’ve practically got it memorized.” His eyes widen at this, and his grin gets bigger.

“Oh, do I have myself a secret admirer?” The clown asks smugly, and he notices the blush that falls upon your face. If he knew it was so easy to make you flustered, he would have done it far sooner, finding you absolutely adorable.

“Shut up and let me work.” You bark, your tone not holding any aggression. He laughs again but does as you say, and you begin to paint his face white. For once, he remains silent, watching you work. Before long, the base is done and you move on to the blue triangles above and below his eyes. You stay silent as your brush runs along his face, wanting to make it look perfect until a thought comes into your head.

“You know something?” He hums, prompting you to continue. “You have the most captivating eyes I’ve ever seen.” Said eyes widen, never having been told that before. Buggy silently thanks the universe for the makeup covering his face because he can feel the heavy blush rising to his cheeks.

“Th-thanks,” he mutters quietly, not sure how to respond. You tilt your head at him, curiously studying his face.

“You’re not used to receiving compliments, are you?” Smiling at him softly, you watch as he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Usually I’m the one giving the compliments.” He looks up to meet your gaze, partially expecting you to laugh at him. You do nothing of the sort, instead smiling at him gently.

“Well, that’s a shame because I think you’re pretty handsome.” You wink at him, wanting to make him feel more comfortable since flirting seems to be one of his pastimes. His eyes widen again, the surprise written all over his face. Without saying anything else, you finish the blue around his eyes and move on to the red, cleaning the brush and dipping it into the face paint. The clown stays silent as you work on the red smile around his mouth, internally wondering if you meant what you said. When you get to his nose, he tenses up, a clear indicator that he’s insecure about it. You make sure to be extra careful as you paint the red onto his skin.

“I meant what I said, I do find you quite attractive.” His eyes search yours for any hint of insincerity but find none. The king of flirting himself is stunned into silence, feeling his heart flutter at your words. You say nothing else and go back to finishing the makeup. Deciding to observe your face while he had the opportunity, he notices that you stick your tongue out slightly when concentrated, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter.

“All done!” You pull away proudly, assessing your work. It looks almost identical to his bounty picture, and you internally pat yourself on the back for your memory. Getting up to grab a mirror, you find one in the small dresser and bring it towards Buggy, holding it up so he can see his reflection. He looks in the mirror and instantly grins, impressed with your makeup skills.

“You know, you would be a wonderful addition to my crew.” You chuckle in response, not thinking that he’s being serious.

“You need a professional makeup artist?” You joke, internally glad he thinks you did a good job.

“No really, we could use someone like you.” His proposal shocks you, not expecting him to say something like that.

“You don’t know me,” you speak quietly. He just smiles at you, taking in your beauty.

“I know enough. You’re kind, funny, and great at makeup.” The clown winks at you, enjoying the surprise on your face. “I’ve also heard you are quite the fighter.” Smirking at you, he gives you a look that tells you he means what he says. You just stare at him in silence, having a hard time believing your ears.

“So, sweetness, what do you say?” Gaping at him, you blink a few times, processing his offer. After a moment, you sigh, indecision written all over your features.

“I don't know, I’d have to leave the straw hats, and I’m not sure I could do that.” Surprisingly, his face softens at your words.

“Tell you what, let’s head off to save your friend and find my body, and then you can decide.” His smile remains soft, which is unusual for the clown. “I don’t think your current crew appreciates you. I mean, look at today, they gave you the task of babysitting me when you have so much more to offer.” Eyes widening at his words, you realize that maybe he’s right.

“Luffy appreciates me,” you whisper softly, though you’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“He might, but grass head certainly doesn’t.” You want to smirk at the nickname for Zoro, but there’s too much going on in your mind for your facial muscles to pull through.

“All I’m going to say is this, you’d have a real place in my crew, and not just on the bottom of the totem pole. Besides, I think you like my company just as much as I like yours.” He gazes at you, studying your body language, and you realize that he’s right, you do enjoy his company. You start nibbling on your lip out of nervous habit, and he picks up on it immediately.

“You don’t have to decide now, we can go rescue your friend first, okay?” He watches your shoulders visibly relax at that, and smiles in return.

“Okay.” You say softly, smiling back at him. “Your hair should be dry now.” Moving closer, you carefully take the towel off his head and giggle at the fluffy blue mess.

“Thank the stars I have a brush.” Buggy chuckles at the comment and watches you grab the hairbrush with a smile on his face. Softly working through the tangles, you watch as his hair goes from frizzy to smooth. As you’re running the brush through his mane one last time, the door opens, revealing a shocked and somewhat appalled Zoro.

“What the hell is going on in here?!” Yells the swordsman, and you turn to him with a confused look.

“Well, you told me to watch him so I did.” You shrug, not liking the attitude coming from your crewmate.

“I said watch him, not give him a makeover! Did you do his makeup too?” The horrified look on Zoro’s face made Buggy laugh, not used to seeing the man lose his cool.

“You guys never let me do your makeup, so I had to improvise!” You bark back, crossing your arms. Zoro just stares at you silently, clearly having difficulty processing your kindness towards the clown. After a while, he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Whatever. Luffy needs him so we can find out where Nami is.” He mirrors your stance, crossing his arms.

“I already know where she is,” you spit, growing tired of the way he speaks to you. The swordsman scoffs, not believing you for a second.

“Oh, really? How?” A faux smile creeps onto his face, prepared to catch you in a lie.

“Because Buggy told me.” Zoro’s face drops and the man is stunned into silence. The clown immediately bursts into laughter, enjoying Zoro’s dumbfounded look. The green-haired man gawks for a moment, before moving his hands around, silently asking the question ‘how’.

“Because they’re nice and you’re an asshole,” Buggy says smugly, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if he had the rest of his body. You break out into a soft chuckle at this, which snaps Zoro out of his trance.

“I’m not explaining this to Luffy, so you better take the head and go find him.” The swordsman scoffs again before leaving the room, shaking his head the whole time. Rolling your eyes, you move back toward the clown, mumbling to yourself while putting his hair back in a ponytail.

“Don’t let him get to you, he won’t know what he has until it’s gone.” Buggy’s cheeky grin triggers your own, and you laugh softly, gently picking him up to go find Luffy.

©️ the-anxious-youth, 2023

Please do not replicate/repost :)

#my writing #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #op buggy #op buggy x reader #buggy fanfiction #buggy fanfic #buggy the genius jester #buggy one piece x reader

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cherryfennec · 6 months

Text

"All fun and games."

Aka a silly thing before the angstier project.

Script for those who struggle reading.

If Mr.L won he'd have told Dimentio to stay out of his sight for as long as possible. He usually ignores these challenges but this once he thought he could easily win whatever Dimentio had in mind and get the clown to leave him alone for a while. It didn't work out so well....fucker chose Jenga...

Thank you for reading!!

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Some additional information regarding the bigger upcoming comic for those interested:

Some of you might've already heard that I'm working on a bit more serious toned project and if you haven't well, there you go now you know.

As of now I have planned out around maybe 20 panels, more or less. I'm not super well versed in comic layout but I've been trying to make it look somewhat interesting and comprehensible. I'm not sure how long this will take to put together and I will not make any false promises. This is something I want to have fun and experiment with, for example; I might post it per page at a time or I might post an entire part at once (there are two parts planned in total). If writing the chat bubbles becomes tedious I might resolve to just typing it out as well. The style for it might also be different from the one you see above, I've been trying out new brushes and I think I found a cool combo.

The comic will feature Dimentio, Nastasia and Mr.L. As always it will include at least some headcanons like slightly altered designs or mannerisms. I have already thought of the name for the comic but I might keep it private for now.

Additional trivia: The comics I make are under the assumption SPM takes longer than one or two days. That's why you'll see me reference time periods such as weeks and maybe even months.

#super paper mario #paper mario #spm #spm comic #mimi spm #nastasia spm #dimentio #mr l #myart

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wileys-russo · 13 days

Note

Babe I just saw this TikTok and if you felt up for it and have nothing else to do maybe you can make a blurb about R or maybe a Player pranking their girlfriend by hiding in the jacket on the door or something lmao.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeu9tCRE/

decided to go for ms Misa with this, a clown jump scare II m.rodriguez

this was it, you were finally going to get your revenge.

months, no years, of being the but of the joke, the victim of the countless pranks and the heart attacks from all the jump scares. all of your pathetic attempts to even the score and you were finally about to get a notch in your belt.

no more would you get the infuriating mock pout of sympathy and the pitiful kiss to your cheek or ruffle of your hair with the 'nice try amor, maybe next time.' as if you were just an amusing little source of entertainment.

you'd tried, no begged, for them to stop. though it seemed the more you did so or tried to get even it spurred the clowns on even further to mess with you.

you thought that when one of them had finally grown into her ears and you realised she was actually quite sweet and cute, you might have the protection one expects comes with a girlfriend as sometimes hot headed and passionate as misa.

but no, if anything once the two of you were officially together it only seemed even more of a green light for not just her but the rest of her little circus to continually mess with you.

you got a brief reprise when playing at club level together for real madrid, misa had less of her little playmates around then to spur her on and help with her antics.

but it was national camps where they really thrived, and you suffered at their hands.

it had gotten to the point you knew they kept score, noting down in a little blue book how many times each of them could scare you during camp, leaving you horribly on edge and double checking every corner and every room you walked into.

your other much more mature and level headed teammates took pity on you and attempted to provide aid, warning you ahead of time as best they could when they heard wind of potential set ups which you were immensely grateful for.

you'd originally had no plans of retaliation, instead taking on board irene's advice to just ignore them and as best you could give them no reaction to feed off of knowing that often spurred them on more than anything else.

mapi and leila used to be two of the worst, constantly jumping out from corners or hiding under your bed after swiping your key card with nimble fingers, relentlessly competitive with one another for who could gain more points for scaring you each camp.

then came jenni and virginia, upping things by adding in not only the jump scares but also ridiculously juvenile pranks that had a scowl near permanently etched into your brow the entire camp as you started to make it a routine to be constantly checking over your shoulder.

then it was misa and patri, patri who very easily picked up on your crush on the goalkeeper and her most trusted accomplice and unbeknownst to you tried her very best to use these little jump scares and pranks to force misa to recognize her own unrequited crush on you.

needless to say, it worked. but that did not mean you were no longer fair game.

and so after a morning filled with people jumping out at you from corners and cupboards and your own girlfriend even going as far as to hide herself under one of the canteen tables and grab your ankle when you least expected it causing you to scream and spill half your lunch down the front of you.

her laughter stopped the moment she pulled herself out from the table and saw the near murderous look on your face and the training top now soaked with a delightful mix of recovery shake and tandori chicken.

"no, stay. you leave the poor niña alone to go and change before gym!" alexia grabbed the back of your girlfriends top and yanked her down in her seat as you hurried out of the canteen, ona and aitana quickly following after you.

"its only a joke ale, relajarse." jenni chuckled, not at all phased by the witherly dry look thrown at her by the younger girl who kept a firm hold on the goalkeepers top who stared at the door which you'd exited after like a kicked puppy.

"to you. there are lines, and lunch should not be a time where she needs to fear you idiotas!" alexia rolled her eyes and let go of misa who sank into her chair with a huff, pushing her lunch tray away from her with a scowl.

assuring ona and tana that you were fine and sending them back down to lunch you quickly stripped and changed, wishing you had time for a shower but heading down to the gym knowing lunch was likely already finished.

as soon as you appeared your girlfriend was right by your side attempting to apologize and pull you into a hug. "its okay amor." you promised caressing her cheek as her face lit up. "really?" she asked eagerly.

"no! aléjate de mí." you quipped sharply, your elbow ramming into her stomach as she doubled over with a groan and a grunt and jenni nearly fell backwards off the weights bench clutching her stomach with laughter.

"cariño por favor!" misa called after you still with a groan as you flipped her off and paired up with ona who couldn't keep the grin off her face, alexia slapping your back proudly as she passed to go pair up with irene.

clearly sensing your distaste and simmering anger misa kept her distance though you could still feel her pouty expression and longing puppy dog eyes following after your every move despite that.

during a quick water break you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around with a scowl expecting it to be your girlfriend but your face immediately softened seeing vicky stood there instead.

"off your phone during gym!" you laughed as she opened up tiktok and brushed you off with a shake of your head. "not for me, for you. look!" she held up her phone and you, and ona whose head popped up beside yours, watched a quick video.

"its cute." you chuckled, a little unsure why she was so intent on showing you as both vicky and ona gave you a strange look. "what?" you frowned back at them cluelessly.

"do it to misa, estúpido!" vicky rolled her eyes as ona hummed her agreement and you scoffed. "that? she will just laugh at me!" you protested as both girls disagreed. "maybe. but its also your best bet at scaring her back for once amiga, anything more...complicated, you could not pull off." ona chuckled honestly as vicky nodded eagerly.

"sí! so what have you got to lose?"

so now this was it, you were finally going to get your revenge.

was it the grand super slam get backs of all get backs you wished you could pull on not only misa but also all of the girls who found endless amusement in picking on your easily frightened nature? no.

but it was still a notch in your belt and you'd take it.

you hurried off the very moment the session was called to a close, gone in a flash so fast your girlfriend barely saw the back of your head before she blinked and you'd dissapeared.

you knew she needed to sit with the physio for awhile to have her shoulder checked after taking an awkward fall this morning which gave you a small window of time to get ready.

now you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel somewhat ridiculous, your body curled up into itself as you heard her key click open the front door to her hotel room, likely having knocked on yours to find nobody answered.

you both had spare keys to one anothers rooms, but with light fingers you'd swiped yours from misa's bag so she couldn't access your room, and it was near certain she still thought you were mad at her and had refused to open your door for her.

which gratefully meant she would not be expecting you in her room let alone curled up in her jacket on the back of the wardrobe door.

you heard her huff and puff as she made her way about the room, and waited until you heard the squeak of her throwing herself down on her bed with a deep sigh.

you'd thought ahead and left your phone in your room, hearing her groan and mumbled to herself as she tried to call and text you but they went unread and unanswered.

if there was one thing about your girlfriend you knew to be true it was that she often got so caught up in her own head, needing a moment of silence to reflect and process what was going on which you knew to give her space for after hard losses, allowing her to come to you once she was ready.

so like now you heard the room go quiet, misa caught up in her own head and unknown to her, right where you needed her.

you counted to three and gently dropped down, your girlfriend too busy thinking to see your legs ever so carefully hit the floor as you silently slipped out of her jacket and turned, misa still not noticing you.

"hola amor!" you yelled as you leapt at her, launching onto the bed as the girl let out a blood curdling scream and fell right off of it landing on her ass as you collapsed into the mattress laughing.

"finally! finally i got you! i scared you!" you cheered happily bouncing up and down on the bed as the goalkeeper scowled up at you and crossed her arms.

"you got me once. grow up!" you squealed as she stood and pushed at your shoulder mid bounce almost sending you toppling off the bed before you caught yourself.

"yeah i did, and thats a win for me mi vida. put that in your stupid little blue book!" you teased with a grin so wide it almost split your face in half as the girl huffed and sat down on the bed, refusing to meet your eyes and glaring at the wall.

"mis, mi amor you are not allowed to be so pouty and moody after you have spent years terrorising me and i got you back once!" you warned, standing up and staring firmly down at her with your arms crossed.

"i do not terrorise you!" misa frowned as your eyebrows raised questioningly. "okay, maybe i could be a little nicer." the girl grumbled as you scoffed and your eyebrows raised even higher.

"vale vale! ven aquí sexy." the goalkeeper balled your shirt in her fists and tugged you down and on top of her, pout still lightly playing on her lips as she leaned up to press them to yours but you pulled away, sitting up as your legs straddled her hips.

"i'm not kissing you, not till you apologize for lunch which you seem to have forgotten about." you reminded as the girl winced and smiled sheepishly, hands tracing circles on your bare thighs.

"lo siento mucho, mucho, mucho. mi niña muy bonita!" misa apologised sincerely, sitting up herself and kissing all over your face as she repeated the words over and over.

"vale! but promise me, no more messing with me while we eat? that means lunch, breakfast, dinner, all of it." you warned sternly as the girl nodded and mumbled a promise against your lips as you finally let her kiss you properly for a moment.

pulling away you pushed at her chest as she laid back down and you curled into her, exhaling as you relaxed to the sound of her heartbeat, strong hands curved around your back holding you safely in her arms.

"...that still leaves me many many hours of the day to scare you anyway cariño."

#woso community #woso #misa rodriguez #misa rodriguez x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #answered asks #woso blurbs #espwnt

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archive-of-alexandria · 7 months

Text

Grease Paint (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing on Tumblr in over 10 years, but I am so down bad for this man that I can't help myself. I'm working on drafting my Moulin Rouge! x Buggy long-form fic, and this was just something I scribbled out in the meantime. This is pure Buggy x Reader fluff, so I hope you enjoy!

***

For once in his life, the ever-flashy clown pirate has nothing funny to say.

Your thumb gently ran along Buggy’s cheek to correct your lines, and the genius jester felt the greasepaint being very obviously replaced by his own maddening blush. Your tongue pokes out in concentration, and he fights the urge to grab it between his fingers – haHA! Cat got your tongue! – and spoil the mood with a poorly concocted joke.

Buggy blinks.

….Mood? Who said anything about a mood?

A blush begins to bloom under his collar. Buggy had, in fact, been planning a way to weasel his way into your heart for months - and it seems as if you'd fallen right into his brilliantly scripted scene....so how come he can't remember any of his lines?

You continue working, and Buggy’s usually frantic mind suddenly falls deafeningly silent. Instead, the captain seems to fall into a sort of trance – focusing the entirety of his attention on memorizing your face. He observes every freckle and crease, wishing to commit it to memory. This was the first time -the only time - he’d ever been this close to someone in this…domestic…way, holding his breath out of fear that the illusion of contented bliss would shatter.

Buggy swallows.

He had planned for this, written out every charming and witty line he could think of.

Your eyes catch hold of his through the fan of your eyelashes. Now it was time for your ears to turn pink.

“You’re staring,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and Buggy practically melts as your eyes soften, “Something on my face?” As if on cue, a strand of hair falls in front of your eyes.

God.

He clears his throat, a soft chuckle rippling off his lips, “Well, now there is,” he muses, “Talk about a paid actor.”

You reach to push the hair from your eyes at the same time as he does, fingers awkwardly colliding as soft chuckles and mumbled apologies spill from both of your lips. Still, your eyes hold one another.

You give way to allow Buggy to proceed, whose deft fingers trace along your forehead and behind your ear. Buggy feels electricity shoot through his hands at the feeling of his touch against you, swallowing as he allows his knuckle to caress your cheek. When you seem to lean into his touch, however, he panics.

It would seem he failed to write that into the script.

Buggy barks out a laugh, gently nudging your face and making a pop! noise with his lips to try and swim back to shore before he’s too far gone. You grab hold of Buggy’s lipstick, the last bit of his flashy facepaint to be applied.

"And, for the finishing touch," You hum, taking his chin in your hands as you lean forward with his lipstick in hand.

Buggy's heart hammers against his chest as he feels your breath against his lips, the blood rushing to his ears in the same fashion as one hanging from a highwire.

At this moment, he indeed feels as if he is on the trapeze - delicately balancing with the hopes of making it through without a fumble.

“Doh–!” A chuckle passes through your lips, closing your eyes tight at the sight of Buggy’s comically crimson mouth. In the months that you’ve been a part of Buggy’s crew, you've never seen his makeup so fresh…and the sight was actually rather startling. It was as if the captain was in bad 3D, sponsored by technicolor, painted in by the most potent Crayola markers known to man. Buggy’s whole face looks crimson, but perhaps it's just a reflection of the brutal lipstick…

Buggy’s lips, like two bright cherries, suddenly form a pout at the sound of your laughter. His heart sinks, mind immediately skipping to the worst possible conclusion: You agreed to do his makeup not because you might care for him, but rather this was your chance to humiliate him. Buggy could feel his heart clench in his chest, and his delicate balancing act was about to turn into a dive routine.

“What?” He manages to quirk his lips into a strained smile, “You didn’t make me look like a clown, did ya-? Hrumph-!” His attempt at salvaging his pride is derailed by your thumbs pressing to his lips, your giggles giving way to a radiant smile. Little did he know that your fingers against his lips were just as much an attempt to quiet him as they were an excuse to touch Buggy.

“This color is so much more red than usual,” You say, your face growing warm, “What did I do wrong?”

A blink. Moments pass as Buggy stares at you with saucer eyes before his hands fasten themselves to your wrists with a gentle tug. Had you realized that your fingers were still attached to his lips?

“If you must know,” he gulped, “I have a top secret makeup technique.”

“Oh?” You feign surprise, leaning closer to your captain. A smirk twists into your lips. “Top secret, eh? Even from me?”

You bat your eyelashes, emboldened by your captain’s sheepish expression, and Buggy mutters a curse under his breath.

Oh, fucking fucking fucker fuck.

Buggy’s voice lowers and his grip on your wrists tighten, the creak of the supple leather breaking the silence. “Especially from you.” A blink passes with the realization that Buggy wasn’t cracking a joke or being wise. He genuinely seemed…embarrassed. You’re not deterred yet, and instead, he finds you leaning in closer as your legs involuntarily squeeze together – Just imagine what those gloves would feel like in your –

You’re nearly nose to nose with the dread pirate as the air settles thick. For months you and Buggy have fallen into the old routine of cat and mouse, always teetering on the precipice of…something. The way Buggy allows his eyes to follow you during your routine without shame and latches on to your figure like a predator observing his prey is undeniable. He relishes in watching your body twist and writhe on the acrobat hoop, and you'll admit that all of your special tricks are, indeed, for him. You live for the moments he would stalk up behind you after a performance during the roaring applause when no one would be able to hear his voice - low and thick - praise you with lips ghosting your ear: “What a good girl you are, hm? Making your captain proud.”

Your eyes fall to Buggy’s lips.

“Show me,” you swallow thickly, brushing your nose against his, “Show me your special technique.”

Buggy’s eyes flicker elsewhere – anywhere – from your gaze before deciding upon your own lips. His grip falters, his body erupting into flame as his eyelids flutter.

This was it: the climax of the show he has been planning and rewriting in his dreamworld for months. Buggy's flashy showmanship, however, deflates. Your hands are suddenly dropped from Buggy’s grip as he pulls back, redirecting his gaze to his now unoccupied hands. As he begins to peel off his gloves, the silence shifts into something unsettled. The fizzing tension between the two of you seems to thicken.

Meanwhile, Buggy is desperately trying to suppress an impending, raging hard-on. He already feels humiliated enough at the fact that you're laughing in his face, and now...

Cabaji had made fun of Buggy for weeks after discovering the wanted poster smeared in crimson red grease paint in Buggy’s quarters, your face barely visible beneath layers and layers of kiss marks. Buggy initially tried to cover it up, claiming it wasn’t intentional and he just needed something to “blot and perfect” his signature look with at call time. However, the sheer amount of kisses scattered across the page betrays him. There is no denying that Buggy was completely smitten with you. And here you are, practically begging him to kiss you. The set-up, the lead-in, the wind-up to the punchline…It is the perfect joke, all at his expense.

At least Cabaji hadn’t found the other copy of your wanted poster, crinkled and smeared thick with Buggy’s–

“Bugs?” Your hand on his thigh pulls the captain out of his thoughts, eyes darting up to meet yours with an unmistakable look of guilt as he tries to wipe away the memories of his moans and your wanted poster slick with his– “Are you okay?”

The clown clears his throat, finding the willpower to bring his fist before his face with a flourish as his humorless eyes settle on yours in an attempt to save face.

“For your viewing pleasure,” he forces a smile, “The technique!”

Without another word, Buggy begins to rub his lips back and forth vigorously against the top of his hand in order to remove the excess pigment.

Fuckingfuckinghellthisissostupidthey’regoingtofuckinghatemewhatamIevendoing–

His brilliant demonstration is put on pause as you take hold of his wrist, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. A sheepish grin attempts to cross his lips, but it falters. His eyes fall to the floor.

He looks ashamed.

“For once,” Buggy’s voice is hoarse as he huffs out a laugh, “I don’t have anything funny to say.”

A beat.

The intimacy of the moment is almost too much to bear, and your skin pricks with nerves.

“Buggy…” you breathe.

Your fingers find his face once again, tenderly wrapping around his chin. Buggy squeezes his eyes shut as you guide his face up to you. He refuses to see the expression in your eyes as you stomp on his glass heart. Suddenly you're cradling his head in both of your hands, “Buggy,” you mused, “I have a better technique to share with you.”

Your noses bump against one another.

A choking noise passes through Buggy’s lips, and in a moment of sheer desperation for tenderness he whispers, “Please.”

Your lips finally meet Buggy’s, and the awkward feeling of your body being too far away is overcorrected by the desperate captain. Buggy follows your lips with his body like a man possessed, knees knocking with yours as his arms swallow you whole. His hands find purchase wherever they can, trying to quickly grasp any and all of you as if you'd disappear. It's awkward, teeth knocking against teeth with the expertise of someone never before kissed, and you can't help the smile that comes to your lips.

You break away and Buggy’s breathing hitches, eyes still closed and hands gripping you so tightly you know you’ll have bruises.

You don’t mind, though. Quite the opposite.

You can always cover them up with a little bit of grease paint.

#buggy x reader #buggy fluff #buggy the clown #buggy imagine #opla buggy #i am so down bad #go burpy!#one piece #one piece imagine

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muffymello · 19 days

Text

Handsy

(Buggy the Clown x f!Reader)

A small-town shopkeep makes the biggest mistake of her life by capturing a weird-ass spider.

1.8k Words

Working in such a tiny shop had plenty of issues. Cramped spaces, not enough room for stock, no escape from whiny customers…

But, there were also upsides. Mainly that cleaning was easy, but today being able to spot a huge spider on one shelf with ease made it a lot easier to pick up an old shoebox to capture it in. You didn’t get a good look before snagging it, just shutting the box tight and sitting on it immediately. It was a good thing too, from the way it slammed against the box aggressively it would have had a chance of escaping if you hadn’t done so.

A few layers of tape and air holes in the box made your life a lot easier, customers and coworkers alike praising you for your bravery. You didn’t love bugs, but didn’t harbor the strong fears of many others towards the creepy crawlies common to your town. The coworker who had spotted it initially and screeched for your help was especially grateful, wishing you thanks and avoiding the box as you put it behind the register.

This wasn’t the only big event of the day, as you were in for a surprise when a tall, broad man in a colorful costume burst into the store. He seemed slightly frantic, one arm hidden beneath his cape as he waved the other wildly. He was eye-catching not only because of his height and loudness, but the clown makeup and neon blue hair he had. The pirate hat on his head alerted you to the possible danger of this man, and you gripped the dagger next to the register tightly just in case as you ushered your coworker into the back room.

“Excuse me there, doll,” The strange intruder sneered, making you wince a bit at the nickname. His smile was his best feature, you decided, but the condescending tone falling from his lips didn’t do much to help him. “Have you happened to see… any spare limbs around?” He muttered the last few words, cheeks going even redder than the makeup had set them to be.

“I- uh… not really, no?” You responded, trying to figure out if this was some weird joke. “Spare limbs… what do you really mean by that, sir?” The tone you used was respectful but awfully puzzled, having no clue what was going on. You swore you’d seen the pirate before, but you couldn’t put your finger on even such a recognizable face. He didn’t bother to answer your question, just grunting animatedly before swishing his cape and leaving. You could have sworn you saw a hand missing from his hidden arm, but it must have been a trick of light as his colorful apparel was almost painful to look at for too long.

Murmurs were shared amongst customers after he stormed out the front door, the name Buggy the Clown being tossed around continuously. As your coworker emerged, eyes wide, she looked quickly to the box now tucked neatly under the counter. You had planned to walk into the forest in the evening to set the creature free, but with the way she was looking at the box now you were worried for what she was about to say.

“Hey, um… did you happen to get a good look at the spider earlier?” She questioned, voice barely above a whisper as her face paled. You stepped towards her, ready to catch her in case she fainted. She looked awfully close to doing so, only growing paler at your next words. “Not really, just scooped it up in the box and called it a day. Why?”

“Do you- do you know who that was?” She now stuttered, panicked in every sense of the word. Her fear of spiders must’ve fully left her body in that instant as she grabbed the dagger to rip the tape from the box’s edge, lifting the lid to peer inside. She yelped before almost dropping the box, quickly clutching it to her chest to keep the lid shut as tightly as possible while yelling for you to tape it back up. This little scene didn’t catch much attention from customers, still caught up in their own conversations as the two of you freaked out behind the counter.

Once it was taped and back in its spot, you watched her sink to her knees and shiver. “What, what is it?” You demanded, now worried yourself. What did the spider have to do with the strange pirate, and why had it worked her up so much.

“You didn’t catch a spider at all… we should have been watching closer, oh god-” She babbled on, seemingly lost in her own head before snapping her head up to look you straight in the eye. “That clown has a 15 million berry bounty and is nothing to scoff at- and we just kidnapped his left hand!” She whisper-shouted, not wanting to let any customer hear what had just happened as your face paled to match hers. You realized that his missing hand earlier hadn’t been oyur eyes fooling you, he must have eaten a devil fruit and-

oh god.

“Can he still feel his hand when it’s… detached?” You asked, mortified at the nod you received in response. Neither of you had any clue what to do, but knew that talking or doing anything more while customers were still around was definitely a bad idea. His face in the stack of wanted posters delivered to the shop later that day didn’t do anything to calm either of you down, and your mind went blank trying to come up with a plan.

That’s how you got here now, the left fist of a feared pirate captain stuffed into a backpack slung over your shoulder as you tried to move as inconspicuously as possible towards the forest. Tossing the bag into the woods would leave it easy to find but remove any chance of you being found as the culprit, and heaven knows your weak-hearted coworker wouldn’t be able to do this herself. You used the shadows and dark to your advantage, trying to ignore the loud, annoying tapping of the hand on the box it was trapped in.

The last few hours had been just tapping, no doubt the pirate trying to track the hand down easier. You sat in an alleyway to gather yourself for a second, catching your breath and preparing to run the final stretch to the woods. As you moved to sit down, the bag fell off of your shoulder and slammed hard into the brick wall. The tapping stopped, and you felt a huge pang of guilt, more than you could really justify for a pirate of his status.

Your heart won out over your mind as you unwrapped the hand’s makeshift box cage, inspecting it for injury. After a few gentle brushes of your hand, you were surprised as the detached appendage began to hold your hand back. There wasn’t any permanent damage, but you patted it gently as an awkward apology for the rough treatment. You decided to just hold the hand for now, wrestling it back into the box when you were so close to the forest would be useless. You sat there for multiple minutes, patting the hand absentmindedly as your heart began to race just a little less, when you finally came up with a bit better of a plan.

Sitting in the forest alone was dangerous for a lonely hand, and you were going to return it to the pirate yourself. He should be grateful, maybe even give you a reward, and he would have no way of proving you didn’t find the hand now and choose to return it immediately.

The ship was anything but subtle, docked not in the main harbor but off to the side with flashy lights and colors. You shoved your hand into your pocket along with Buggy’s, trying to communicate to him with two quick squeezes even if you didn’t really know what it is you were trying to say. You marveled at the ship before you, the circus tent mounted on the top was unlike anything you’d ever seen before in this small town. It was extremely out of the ordinary for you to encounter pirates or even explore at night at all.

It made the majesty of the ship all the more striking, having to force your shaky legs to keep moving as your nerves increased. Your head yelled to turn back as your heart only thought of the warm, gentle caress of the hand holding yours in your pocket. It never gripped painfully, but it was a tight, almost pleading grip. You could feel a slight shake in the hand, your heart ruling that you’d make sure it found it’s way back to its owner without any issue.

Immediately upon boarding the ship you were halted, oddball pirates inspecting you for any signs of danger before threatening you, asking what your business on board their ship was. “I just want to speak to your captain, please.” You said, as calmly as you could muster. The whole ship seemed like a party as of right now, even the pirates surrounding you seemed tipsy and unserious. One led you into the circus tent, where the partying intensified even more. Loud music, booze, acrobatics, showmanship, and a grand throne in the center of it all.

As you tried not to marvel at everything going around on this insane ship, you zeroed in on the throne. Perched on it lazily, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm was the captain himself, Buggy. He looked out of place despite his costume choices, his face mopey and dull. You squeezed his hand in your pocket again without thinking, surprised as you watched his mouth curve into a small smile before he squeezed back. Still, he looked depressed as he displayed his left arm, handless, perched upon his knee with the empty stub of a wrist actively visible.

You hadn’t realized you stopped to stare until one of the circus pirates guiding you gave you a light shove, causing you to stumble your way through the theatrics until you were right in front of the throne. Buggy barely spared you a glance before looking back out to his crew, watching all their performances intently but without a hint of amusement with any of it on his face. When you finally spoke, his eyes returned to you and stayed there, intimidating but not scary.

“Um, sir- captain? Buggy, I mean. I found your, I mean- I saw it and-” You gave up on your stuttering, opting to pull your hand and his out of your pocket to show instead of tell. You gave it one last squeeze as his face lit up with a huge grin, and you couldn’t help the yell that escaped from you as his hand returned to his body, bringing you along with it.

You were now in the lap of a high-bounty pirate aboard his ship as he didn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, too close for comfort as he grinned and chuckled at your startled expression.“Well, well, well, doll. Holding my hand, and I don’t even know your name.”

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moremousewrites · 2 months

Text

Make it Count

Pairing: Astarion/ Tav (fem)

Tags: semi-public sex, oral sex, alcohol, penis in vagina sex, caught in the act

Word count: 1,258

Summary: After a greuling day of pointless adventuring, Tav just wanted to go back to the Elfsong and rest. Her companions invited her to a night on the town but Astarion has a better idea

The party dragged themselves into the Elfsong Tavern. You had spent the whole day running around Baldur's Gate killing ghosts, rounding up living corpses, and finding jars of preserved mummy parts. And to wrap the misadventure up, you were rewarded for your efforts with a portrait (that you had to sit still for hours to pose for) and the damned painter handed you a painting of… Gale.

You handed Gale the painting and left the artist's house before you sent him to the feuge plane for wasting your time.

So it was a relief to you when you finally slumped into a booth at the tavern, relaxing after a day of nonstop fighting and investigating.

Astarion squeezed into the booth next to you, pressing his thigh against yours. Even in your exhausted state, it sent electricity through you.

You weren't paying attention to a word that was being shared amongst your group. You focused on your ale and the Astarion's thigh.

Eventually you noticed everyone was awaiting an answer from you.

“Oh, pardon?” You asked, lifting your head from your arms.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes but gave you a smile. “We wanted to know what you're going to do about the clown parts. They're starting to smell” she generously repeated for you.

“Nothing” you sighed, dropping your head back on the table.

“Nothing?” Shadowheart questioned.

“Yes, nothing. Feed them to the owlbear. It's not worth our time and I've never cared for clowns” you said before chugging your ale.

Astarion placed his hand on top of your thigh, causing you to jolt slightly.

Ever since your night in the graveyard, Astarion had been especially affectionate with you. His touch was welcome after the day you had. He started drawing circles with thumb, massaging your thigh. You listened as Shadowheart and Gale deliberated on plans for the night.

Astarion's hand shifted inward. You tried not to react and draw attention. Pleased by your restraint, he moved his hand closer to your core.

“Tav, do you think you'll come?” Gale asked you, shaking you out of your concentration.

Shocked by the question and scared you'd been caught, you sat up quickly. “Excuse me?” You asked, guilt filling your words.

Gale raised a brow at your panic. “To Sundries? We're going to get some artifacts appraised” he said as if he had already told you.

“I think we're going to turn in for the night. Clearly our dear companion needs rest after today's grueling adventure. And I need my beauty rest as well” he spoke for you, pressing a firm finger against your clit. You could only nod in agreement.

Gale and Shadowheart shrugged but didn't question you further.

The two of you made your way upstairs trying not to look too eager. You felt a second wave of energy in anticipation for whatever Astarion was planning. Entering the floor your party occupied you noticed it was completely empty for a change. Even the pets were gone, Halsin must have been taking them for a walk.

“Oh how perfect. An opportunity to be alone with you my sweet. I won't waste it” Astarion pushed you onto the nearest bed as quickly as he could. You wanted to play along with him, or even add some witty banter, but you were so exhausted you just let him lead.

“I'll take good care of you, darling. Trust me” he said, removing your shoes and pants with haste.

“I trust you” you yawned.

Astarion pulled you to the edge of the bed. He kneeled before you. “Do try to stay awake. I'd hate for some dream figure to take all the credit for my hard work” he said before licking a flat tongue up your cunt and pausing to flick your clit.

You arched your back at the sensation. Astarion threw your thighs over his shoulders, pulling your hips into his face while he lavished your awakened clit.

“Please, I need you” you begged, trying to get relief.

Astarion looked up at you through your legs and gave you a sinister grin. “My love, you have me. What more could you need?” He asked, breath hot on you.

Your body convulsed with the absence of his tongue. He was punishing you for your greediness and demanding you beg. Seeing how you were openly receiving cunilingis in the shared living space of all your companions, this was not the fucking time.

You weighed your options: snap at him and get a more degrading, more time consuming punishment, or play along and get rewarded. The latter then.

“Please, Astarion. I need your cock. I need you to make me cum” you appealed to his ego. It worked just barely.

“Not your best but I suppose I can let it slide given your fatigue” he sighed out. Astarion unhooked your legs and stood up. He unlaced his pants and removed his weeping cock from them.

You wanted to taste him, badly. Instead, Astarion positioned you so you were sitting up, your butt was on the edge of the bed and he held your legs.

“I really do need you to fuck me, now” you smiled at him. Astarion kissed you and lined himself with your hole, soaking now from his licks.

He pressed into you, allowing you a moment to adjust but unrestrained himself in acknowledgement of the lack of time or cover. Astarion generally liked to love you right or not at all. But you would argue his imperfect, sloppy, messy sex was just as right as anything else. You loved him and everything he was.

His hips thrusted into yours in a stuttered pace. He was vigorous but not brutal. Feeling his cock quickly slam into you from your position was driving you to climax. You could feel the sparks of pleasure moving throughout your body.

Astarion's quiet moans of frustration he'd let slip were the telltale sign that he was just as close as you. He reached between you to press on your lower stomach just how you like and…

“One moment Shadowheart I have to retrieve something from my wares!” Fuck.

You panicked. Pushing Astarion off of you, you threw the covers of whomever's bed you were just fucking in this was. Astarion fumbled with his ties. Of course he did.

“I almost forgot my crooked wand! That would've been foolish of me” Gale bounded into the room making his way over to the chest at the foot of the bed you were currently occupying.

He noted Astarion who was turning his back to him. And you, sweaty and very much not asleep in his bed. “Were you two fucking just now?” He asked.

You stared at him blankly. You couldn't think of a way out of this. “Yes Gale, we were fucking. I'm sorry about your bed” you said, earnestly.

Gale took his wand from his chest and nodded to you. “Alright then. Have a good night, Tav” he said then made his way back downstairs.

You turned and looked at Astarion who was trying (and failing) to contain a devious smirk.

“You knew this was his bed” you glared at him.

“Of course. Though it seems we're doing him a favour more than anything. He won't be washing these sheets for a long time” he joked.

You threw a pillow at him and he dodged, uncannily.

“Oh lighten up. Now that the word is out, we've secured this place for at least ten more minutes” he teased, removing the blanket that hid you from him.

“Then we better make it count”

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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mochinomnoms · 1 month

Note

What would happen if both Yuu and Riddle “protect” eachother from their pseudo siblings potencial eel mate? Because we already see Riddle mother hening Yuu so if Yuu ever explicitly states how uncomfortable they feel around Jade I’m pretty sure Riddle would not hesitate helping Yuu getting out of situations with Jade or like being the third wheel in their project group (with Jade and Yev). And I feel that Yuu would feel the same if Riddle feels a similar way to Floyd cause personally if someone was making my presh baby sibling uncomfortable (or annoying them) I would not hesitate to put the fear of god into them/gremlin my way to cockblocking them.

But then again Jade and Floyd seem like they already made up their minds that Yuu/Riddle are already their mate, but how far will they go to go against their shrimp/goldfish in law?

I just feel like this has hijink potencial, like Jade would try to talk to Yuu and Riddle pops out of no where or Floyd tries to take Riddle away then Yuu comes sliding out of no where grabs Riddle then runs away (I personally headcannon that out of the sibling relationship that Yuu is just more of a gremlin than Riddle always having a bit of a clown flair to their actions whether it’s their intention or not (totally not projecting) while Riddle is like that reasonable older sibling where antics just happen around them)

Sorry for the long post this has just been rotting in my brain for a while. -🧀anon

BRO YES

I was intending on writing these sorts of interactions between them, but since I added the titles the flow of the story has changed a bit so I'm not sure if it will fit into the main fic.

But yes, once it's been established with the two that both of the twins are interested in them, and that they want to avoid them at all costs (no emotional health with these two lads), they are making a game plan.

Riddle is very prim and proper, so he's appalled at the thoughts Jade is having about Yuu (nevermind that these sorts of things are pretty normal for most people) and going out of his way to put space between the two. Jade comes up to whisper in their ear? Riddle is loudly asking, “Oh Jade, did you have something to say? Why don't you share it with me and Yev?” Lunchtime has been monopolized by Riddle and the rest of Heartslabyul, though some of the random students are confused as to why Riddle has insisted that they sit with Ramshackle.

Yuu on the other hand take it upon themselves to interrupt Floyd mid-chase with Riddle and asking him questions about Jade. Things they know he'll report back to Jade, but subtle enough that you couldn't take them at face value. “Hey Floyd! Question: what sort of things does Jade like? No reason, I'm just making sure I have gifts for your guys' birthday!” If Riddle is in at club practice? You're there and “talking” his ear off, interrupting Floyd's quips until he gets so frustrated that he leaves.

If they try to give either one of you gifts? “Oh, thank you, I think Riddle/Yuu will like this! I'll share it with him/them!”

Study dates? “Oh, let me join you too! Let's make it a group actually, I'll bring my dorm members.”

It becomes such a reoccurring thing, seeing Yuu and Riddle together, that rumors start going around that the two are actually dating. The twins are a mix of devastated, annoyed, and thrilled at the hilarity of it all.

Shrimpy doesn't want Floyd to mess with his Goldfiishie? Fine, let's have some fun, you said you wanted to go to the store? Let's go, and oh look there's Jade as well! Oh, and look at the time, Floyd has to go work his shift at the lounge (since when has he cared), have fun with your date with Jade! :D

Riddle is very protective of Jade's Pearl? That's fine, Yuu can stay with Yev then while he and Riddle go to the gardens to get some ingredients. And if Jade happens to disappear, Floyd in his place, well then it's just a coincidence! Jade just remembered that they also needed to buy some herbs from Sam's, he didn't mean to leave Riddle. :''''(

Morays may be cowards, but they're also opportunistic predators. They'll find ways to get around Riddle and Yuu's shenanigans. After all, if the two reeeally didn't feel the same way as them, they surely they would've said something to their respective eel. Maybe they like the attention~

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd x riddle #ptm #🧀 anon

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lunarw0rks · 9 months

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I politely crave moreee awkward placed injures with reader and task force 141. Also why is it so hard to spell awkward like I spend 10 minutes trying to spell it :D

No Filter | Part Two

A/N: I wrote this in an hour, I apologize if it's lackluster. I was picturing the sparring scene from Miss Congeniality while writing this - if you know what I'm talking about I love u. Not proofread.

Summary: From a simple training session to a brawl.

Warning(s): platonic!141, mild language, crackfic, canon-typical "violence", very mild injury/blood, fem!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.3k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST PART ONE | AO3 VER. // have a request? // ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

What you were trying to do was train. The right way.

But did that ever go as planned in this God-forsaken place?

In this God-forsaken task force? Not ever.

It was a simple sparring session, a rare one where everyone was participating. Each member picked a buddy, yours being Gaz—one of the more tolerable, humble men you worked with. Though, he had his sore moments every now and then.

Gaz raised his fists, the both of you dancing around in a circle as you braced for impact. “C’mon, hit me!” He exclaimed, curling his lips into a smug smirk. You squinted at him, returning the playful glare as you debated on your next move.

“What? Get shot in the bits but you can’t punch me?” He chuckled, reminding you of the bullet welt still healing—an awkward reminder of the enemy’s odd aim.

At the mention of it, you swung at him, rendering him on his ass. Kyle groaned and held his throbbing forehead, a tender mark where your gloved fist knocked the cockiness right out of him. “Bloody Christ, I said hit me not give me a brain injury!”

You stifle your belly laugh as best as you could, feeling a sting where you were still healing. Instead, you outstretched a hand, pulling the spiteful Sergeant to his feet. And here you were thinking Garrick would be a less irritating sparring partner. Surely, less obnoxious than Soap, and miles less intimidating than Ghost.

You heard a thud behind the two of you, causing you to turn on your heels and inspect the hilarious scene in front of you. Soap was on his ass, holding a small cut on his brow—one that would leave him with a nasty bruise for weeks. The skull-faced Lieutenant stood over him, arms crossed over his chest as he watched him writhe.

“You got distracted, Johnny. Ended up on your arse.” he taunted, taking a few steps back as Soap regained his footing.

With Ghost’s strength, it could’ve been any limp thrust into Soap’s temple. Your guess? Probably an elbow or knee. Soap pointed a finger at Kyle’s reddened mark where you sucker punched him, as if sitting him in the same boat of embarrassment.

“Look at him! Knocked down by her; a nasty mark that is.” His Scottish accent grew stronger the more heated he got, though Ghost remained untouched by both the activity and the humor.

Soap approached, giving your touchy chest a knock with his fist, “I’m proud of you, lass, sticking up for yourself, especially with this one.” He pointed to Gaz’s disgruntled scowl, an often recurring expression on his youthful face. Though, you were more focused on Johnny’s patronizing—he hadn’t let you live the boob incident down.

That vigor resurfaced, making you sweep Soap’s feet out from under him with just a kick. “I told you not to bring that up, you bastard!” You lunged for him, but he had rolled out of your path, finding his footing again. It was game on now—to hell with proper, tactical training.

Soap gripped your shoulders, sending you both to the foam mat with a grunt. The struggle was entertaining for the rest of them, to say the least. Even Simon; the man nonchalantly stanced to the side, pretending he’s not associated with the clown show playing in front of him.

You ended up on top of him, knees on each side of his head. It took every bit of your might, your training to keep his arms from swatting you in the face. It was like two siblings wrestling over their turn with the remote.

“They’re just—” Johnny grunts, resisting the neck pin, “—too damn distracting!” Oh, he was in for it now. That idiotic smolder on his face, like you weren’t seconds from adding to the nasty bruise on his brow bone.

“My bets on her. She’s got a lot of rage.” Gaz whispered to Simon, holding a cold compress to the throbbing mark on his head.

Ghost turns his attention to Gaz’s laughable appearance, then back to the immature brawl. “Johnny’s like a hungry hound, he won’t go easy. Just like I taught him.”

Simon was right. You got too caught up in your need for vindication, disembarking you into the submissive position, a smirking Soap above you.

Your feet pressed against his toned stomach, your only lifeline because your arms were pinned above your head. “Next time we do a honeypot operation, you’re wearing the thong, MacTavish!” A harsh kick delivered by you, right on his kneecap sent him keeling to the side of you, allowing for your brisk getaway.

You slithered around Gaz, using his frame as a distraction so you could gather yourself. Cheating? Perhaps; but Soap started this, not you. Your eyes peeked around him, now circling around the middleman until an inevitable mistake was made.

“Bet you’d love to see that.” Soap answers your remark from seconds ago, sweat pooling on his bruised brow. Kyle eventually got fed up being used as a wall, yanking your arm and thrusting you towards your mow-hawked opponent.

It wasn’t the quick move he thought it was, however. His foot snagged on yours, sending him tumbling to the ground. And you? You slipped on the ice pack that came flying from Garrick’s grip as he fell. It was like a trio of klutzes all in one room. Surely, no one would be able to picture you three as serious members of the Task Force after all was said and done—but you needed revenge, craved it.

Kyle let out a groan of contempt, barrel rolling out of the way as you and Johnny scuffled again, stumbling along the training room as you attempted head-locks on each other.

Simon retreated into the corner of the room, observing his moronic co-workers as he played with the blade of his knife. Sooner or later, the Captain was either going to find out about this incident second-hand, or walk into this unprofessional brawl. Either way; the skull man was not going to be involved. His fortuitous knee to Soap’s temple was enough to fuel his ego for the day.

You received a few elbows to the rips, some knocks on the side of the head, all while petty insults were thrown at the Scot. It was ridiculous, but in the moment—you were on top of the world, beating Johnny’s arrogance.

You latched onto Johnny’s back, attempting to finally give him a well-deserved choke hold. What did you get instead? A forearm to the nose, a small smear of blood on your wrist when you instinctively raised a hand to your throbbing nose.

Soap was chuckling… until he witnessed you compose yourself within a matter of seconds. The saying he heard once; hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He believed it to be true the moment he saw you charge him, a disabling kick to his balls. Not strong enough to leave him impotent—enough to make him see stars.

You got ahead of yourself too, delivering the kick too soon after a blow to the face. You lost your balance, finding yourself crumpled on the floor beside MacTavish. Unless it was literal life or death, neither of you were continuing this tussle.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Everyone’s heads perked up at the sound of the Captain’s irritation. Imagining the scene from his perspective made sense; Kyle pouting with an ice pack on his head, you holding a bloodied nose while stunned, Soap clutching his wounded manhood, and Simon in the corner sharpening a blade.

It was in his nature to keep professional, though he had to fight the urge to cackle.

“You were supposed to be training with each other, not partaking in catfights.” He cleared his throat. “Will someone explain to me why everyone but Simon is injured?” John crept closer, hands behind his back as he hovered over the two of you, inspecting the evidence on your faces.

Soap raised his head, mouth open to speak, but the Captain cut him off. “Not you.”

You gritted your teeth, still in the midst of catching your breath, “he talked about the boobs again.” It was a humiliated mumble, like a child caught in a lie. As if there weren't enough staff meetings caused by this unit specifically…

“My office. Now, all three of you.”

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short-honey-badger · 2 months

Text

Forgetful Valentine's

The long awaited fic! I do hope you all enjoy what I've whipped up!

Everyone have an amazing Valentine's Day! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairings!: Sir Crocodile x AFAB Reader.

Quick summary : Crocodile is hard at work trying to get the Cross Guild up and running and accidentally forgets that it's Valentine's Day.

4.3k words

Masterlist

Buggy Town was lively as usual. Almost Everyone here belonged to the cowardly clown’s crew, but a few select members had elected to stay loyal to Crocodile. The ex-warlord strolled through the tall tents toward the middle of town where real construction had begun. He had a hand in each building, deciding what and where needed to be built first. Mihawk was uninterested in this side of running the guild, and Buggy was far too incompetent to use a hammer, much less direct a building crew made out of pirates.

Crocodile made his way to the largest building, a hotel slash bar of sorts that housed him and the other leaders of the Cross Guild. It'd been a couple of days since the devil fruit user had been able to rest his head, and he was thrilled at the thought of getting to see you, his wife. The two of you have been together since his relocation to Alabasta, been married for around eight years now. Impel Down and Marineford had been life-changing for both of you, but things were beginning to look up with the formation of the Cross Guild.

Only the people Crocodile thought worthy enough to see him with his walls down knew that he was a bit of a romantic at heart. You were obviously one of them, and he couldn't wait to get back to their personal room, curl his huge frame around you, and go to sleep.

However, Crocodile couldn't help but think that he was forgetting something important- he just couldn't figure out what. He sighs heavily and pushes open the door to the hotel, and his cigar would have fallen out of his mouth if he had not clenched his teeth.

The entire lobby has been decorated in PINK. There are paper hearts and streamers everywhere, and someone has even made cupcakes with cutesy designs. There is a massive banner that spans across the bar, where Buggy and his crew sit at the bar, drinking and having a swell time, and Crocodile feels his heart drop. It's Valentine's Day, and he forgot.

Crocodile has nothing ready, nothing prepared for you. He's been far too busy dealing with the new shipment of crops and lumber coming in. The ex-warlord swears under his breath and spins on his heel, mind working quickly to try and find a solution.

Any other year, Crocodile has gone all out for you. Back in Alabasta, he'd wake you with flowers and a sweet breakfast, keeping the day open just for the two of you. Then he would take you out for an extravagant date, only to bring you back to the casino to feed you expensive fruits and worship you from head to toe. Before the night was over, he would run the two of you a bath, making sure it suited you perfectly before gently cleaning his love of the day's events.

All that changed after Straw Hat came and wreaked all of his plans, but right now, none of that mattered. Crocodile needed to find something - anything to give you. He's already wasted the majority of the day and cursed himself for not realizing what today was again. He could only hope that you would be forgiving.

Crocodile flies out of the hotel, dropping into sand and scattering out through Buggy Town. He comes back together when he finds Mihawk, knowing that the other man would have some fancy, expensive wine lying around somewhere.

The swordsman cocks a brow at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed at Crocodile's sudden entrance. Mihawk takes in the older man's rather erratic appearance.

“Can I help you?”

Crocodile smooths his hair back, settling back into nonchalance. He doesn't want the haunty man's help, but he doesn't have many options at the moment.

“I need a favor, a bottle of wine - strawberry, your most expensive brand.”

Mihawk shifts his weight, crossing his arms and leaning back against the crates behind him. It's not every day that Crocodile of all people comes asking for a favor.

“Why?”

The taller man flicks the ash from his cigar, eyes flickering to the darkening sky. He inhales deeply, lungs filling with smoke and then leaking up into the air. Fuck. This was embarrassing.

“I forgot it was Valentine's Day. I can't show up empty-handed,” Crocodile grumbles and huffs in annoyance when he sees the amused smirk on Mihawk’s face.

“You? Why celebrate such an unnecessary holiday?” Hawkeye inquires, but his eyes shine in mischief. Mihawk knows exactly the reason, but he can't help but want to pick on the other man.

Patience running thin, Crocodile glares down at the pompous bird who looks too smug for his own good.

“Because I don't take the one I love for granted,” he snarls down at Mihawk and revels in the look of anger that flashes across his face before it disappears. They glare at one another before the swordsman ultimately sighs and rolls his eyes as he is being asked to do the most unfortunate thing in the world.

“Fine,” Mihawk drawls and turns on to march back to the hotel, “Only because your wife deserves to have a nice Valentine's.”

Wine now in hand, Crocodile stalks to the back and into the kitchens. He demands the cooks whip up a platter of fine fruits and cheeses, simple things that he knows that you like. As he steps back into the lobby, he catches sight of the rack of cupcakes that sit far too close to Buggy for his liking. He sighs as he steps over to the figurehead of the Cross Guild, clearing his throat and smirking around his cigar at the way the clown shrieks and breaks into pieces.

Crocodile snatches up a cupcake, transferring the bottle of wine to a helpful pile of sand that he summons without a thought, “Who made these?”

Buggy looks about to die in his spot when he raises his hand, cheeks coloring bright red in embarrassment as he admits to baking the cupcakes. Crocodile scoffs at the goofball of a man who somehow became an emperor of the sea.

“Of course you did,” he sneers before turning on his heel and loping upstairs, leaving behind a befuddled and terrified Buggy.

The gator is uncharacteristically nervous when he arrives in front of his door. He can hear soft music playing from within, and his scar pulls tight around his nose when a wince crosses his face. The song is slow and crooning, one that he recognizes as one of the few that you play when you are feeling upset with him. Shit.

I’ve lost all ambition

For worldly acclaim

I just want to be the one you love

Crocodile steps through the door, brows pulling up at the sight of soft lighting and delicate decorations that are just a bit tacky. He cracks a tiny grin, and stubs out his cigar in the nearest ashtray, though the effort you’ve put in here just makes the ex-warlord feel guilty. On he goes, passed the living room, and out to the small balcony where he can still hear the slow tune of the song.

And with your admission

That you feel the same

I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of

You sit in one of the chairs that have been set outside, blanket wrapped tight around your body, and turn when you hear the door slide open. Crocodile catches your eyes, and his shoulders slump in relief when you reward him with a soft smile full of love. You stand, dropping your blanket, and come to his side, simply happy that your husband has made it home before the end of the day.

Crocodile drapes himself over you, setting the wine bottle and cupcake away and then curling his arm around you tightly. He lifts you, tucking his hooked arm under your legs, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in so that you can seal your lips to his, sighing in relief at feeling the man you loved close again. You know that he is busy, and you try not to let how much his absence hurts, but you hadn’t thought that Crocodile would have forgotten Valentine's Day.

You rest your brow against his own when the ex-warlord parts from you, letting out a quiet giggle when he presses a smattering of kisses to your cheeks and nose, though when he stops, you can see the regret still shimmering in his purple eyes.

“Forgive me, doll,” Crocodile rumbles against your lips, “Getting the guild up and running has taken too much of my attention away from you.”

You smile at him, a soft quirk of your lips that Crocodile had fallen in love with over time. He once thought you were mocking him with that easy expression, but now it is one that he cherishes above all else.

“There is nothing you need to apologize for, baby,” you coo softly and smooth a hand along his jaw, feeling the days-old stubble there. You trace the scar that runs along his nose and cheekbones, “I know that you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Crocodile huffs, leaning into the hold you have on him, “That’s no excuse. You deserve better than this. If I’d remembered, we wouldn’t be spending this evening in the hotel surrounded by fools.”

“It's not very nice to speak about your co-workers like that,” you tease your husband, and the gator just rolls his eyes skyward.

“As if either of them contribute to the guild,” Crocodile grouches and shrugs out of his heavy overcoat and settles into the chair, situating you into a more comfortable position in his lap. Below the chair, sand shifts and slides back inside and to the cellarette. He retrieves two wine glasses and his hand reforms with the stems tucked between his fingers.

“Impressive as always,” you quip and take the glasses, resting them beside the wine and cupcake that you are just now noticing. Your smile turns into a delighted grin, and you snatch up the bottle, reading the label, “You got my favorite!”

Crocodile gives you a smug smirk, feeling proud of himself for doing at least something right tonight, “Thank Mihawk later. He’s the one who had it lying around.”

He disintegrates the cork of the dark bottle and pours them both a generous amount of the pale pink wine, handing you your glass first and then taking up his own, “The cooks are making you that little snack tray you like so much. Always eating like a little mouse.”

You snort at the old nickname, “Not my fault that fruit, cheese, and bread go so well together.”

Crocodile keeps a steady hand on your hip when you lean back over and pick up the cupcake, examining the bright pink icing and chocolate cake, “Who made this?”

The sigh Crocodile disperses is earth-shattering, and you raise a brow at his dramatics, only to smirk when he hisses, “Buggy.”

“See, your business partners are good for something, right?” You point out and take an obvious sip of your wine, then examine the cupcake, wondering which angle to go in at to create the least mess.

Crocodile snatches the cupcake from your hand, setting it back on the table. He didn’t trust you not to get crumbs everywhere, “Enough, you’ve made your point. Be grateful, hmm?”

You scoff at his audacity to think that you would ever be ungrateful for anything the devil fruit user got for you. You quickly decide to show your husband just how grateful you can be by being obnoxious, of course.

You drape yourself over Crocodile’s chest with a dramatic sigh, shifting to cradle his face in both of your hands to press your lips to his in a lip-smacking kiss, “Thank you so much for the wine and snacks to come my sweet, dear husband! What would I ever do without you?”

“Be wineless and snackless,” Crocodile rumbles and snickers at your dramatic display. Seas does he love his wife, so opposite to him, but with a unique outlook on life that he has always admired.

You laugh, catching him in another kiss before settling back down. Crocodile pours you another glass, and you sip it with a suspicious look, “Are you trying to get me drunk, Sir Crocodile?”

The grin that you receive is dastardly, and you are tugged impossibly closer, almost spilling your drink if not for the grip you had on the delicate stim. You shiver when that dangerous hook finds the edge of your dress, and send Crocodile a soft glare when you hear it begin to rip. Cool air meets your thighs when he rips it further, and he leans in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“If I recall, you quite like it when I take advantage of you, Doll,” He rumbles, and his flesh hand smooths up your thigh, thumb dipping in between the juncture of your legs and stroking the soft skin there. Crocodile longs to feel your plush thighs wrapped around his waist or his head. The ex-warlord wasn’t picky. He presses his cheek to his wife’s, breathing you in and leaving a lingering kiss to your ear, “Or am I remembering incorrectly?”

A breathy laugh escapes you, and you turn your face, lips finding his stubbled cheek, “No, you remember correctly.”

You think about teasing him about the fact that he had forgotten what today was but cast the thought away when you lean back and catch sight of the dark circles under his eyes. Your husband looks tired, and your tipsy, lust-filled mind is swiftly reminded that this is the first time that Crocodile has been back to the hotel in days.

The gator raises a brow when he catches the change in your expression, and he sighs as he is subjugated to your concerned fretting until a knock on the door grabs his attention. Crocodile sets you on your feet, hands off his glass to you, and suggests you gather the wine and join him inside.

By the time you make it inside, Crocodile is shutting the door and lopes over to the sitting area where you’ve sat your bounty on the center table. The tray of snacks joins the wine and sweet treat, and Crocodile presses a quick kiss to the top of your head, “Get ready for me while I change, Dear.”

Crocodile smirks at the way you flush at the husk of his voice, and satisfaction curls hot in his chest at still being able to make you blush like a virgin even after all these years.

“Yes, Sir,” You breathe, and his cock twitches in interest. Crocodile leaves before he can say fuck it and go straight to the main course.

With your husband gone, you take in a deep breath and set to “getting ready” as he ordered you to do, which surmounted to waiting for him to get back so that he could manhandle you how he wanted. You help yourself to another glass and pick at the charcuterie board - eating the cupcake too while you’re at it - you’ve already eaten, but you were never one to turn away food.

The sight of your husband dressed down in black sleep pants with a cigar hanging from between his teeth - he’s even taken off his golden hook for the night - makes you smile, affection, and love for the dangerous man who used to infuriate you at every turn. Now, only you had the honor of seeing the suna suna user like this, all soft and intimate, and all for you, his wife.

Crocodile sighs as he settles on the floor where you’ve strewn out pillows and thick blankets, making a cozy pallet for the two of you. He rests his back on the couch, extending his hookless arm along the cushions and taking up his filled glass. He watches you pick over to the record player and switch songs, smirking when the husky voice of the female artist fills the room. You settle back in his lap, and he wraps his left arm securely around your waist.

Your fingers find his scared wrist and trace gentle patterns there. You rest against him and quietly ask him about how the last couple of days have been. You listen to your husband grouch about the incompetent fools he works with a fond grin, occasionally rising to pick at the snack board and feed your overworked ex-warlord just to get him to pause in his rants. You chime in here and there and offer one last time if he wants your help, but Crocodile denies you like every other time.

“I won’t have you out there around those heathens when I can’t be there to protect you. Mr. 3 and Daz are the only two I trust around here,” Crocodile grumbles and pushes away the cracker and cheese combination you offer him. He smirks as he watches you shrug and eat it for yourself.

“Once I get a more stable network, then we can talk about getting you back out there.”

You huff, but agree for now, not willing to argue with the stubborn man right now. You blink when your world suddenly spins, and the next thing you know, your husband is looming over you, scar scrunching up as he grins meanly down at you.

“Enough about work, Doll. I’ve held myself back for your sake, but I’m done being patient,” Crocodile rumbles and stabilizes himself with his left elbow, trailing his flesh hand up your knee and pushing your dress up and around your hips. Saliva pools in his mouth at the sight of smooth thighs, your panties hugging your mound and leaving little to the imagination. He wants to mark you up like his personal canvas and paint you with bites and hickies so that everyone would know who you belong to.

He leans back just enough to tug your dress up and over your head, tossing it behind him the moment it leaves your head. Crocodile hums, pleased at the sight of your bare breasts, though he would have liked to have seen you nice and dolled up for him, “What have I told you about wearing the lingerie I bought you?”

You blush and shake your head, “It just gets in the way.”

“Ku ha-hah, If you would give it a chance, then maybe you would change your mind,” Crocodile grumbles at you and then leans down to mouth at your collar bone, nipping at the delicate skin there. His hand splays across your side, and he slides it down your hip to hook into your underwear. He tugs them down, growing impatient when his cock throbs in his pants.

Any thoughts of arguing about lingerie are whipped from your mind when those sharp teeth of his find one of your nipples and bites. You curse, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other sliding into his hair, nails biting sharply into his olive skin. The tip of his tongue curls around your nipple, sucking gently to ease the sharp pain.

With your underwear out of the way, Crocodile hooks his fingers around your thigh and tugs your legs open, hooking your left one over his hip. The tips of his fingers dig into your inner thigh, and you moan when he nips your nub before releasing the abused flesh and lean your head back to expose your throat when he noses forward. He sucks dark marks into your skin, leaving behind a painting that only your husband would have the pleasure of viewing.

Crocodile drags his hand down your thigh, growling low in his throat when you dig your nails into his scalp again. The tips of his fingers find your cunt, and he slides his middle finger through your folds, smirking against your skin when he feels how wet you are for him. He leans up and sucks his finger into his mouth for half a second, soaking it thoroughly before sliding it back down and finding your entrance with practiced ease.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and your hips jerk at the sudden stretch. Crocodile was a large man, bigger than the average at the least, and that meant everything on him matched his height. His fingers, usually decorated with rings, were long and thick, and the gator knew how to use them to bring you over the edge until you were begging for his cock.

“Too much?” Crocodile grunts out from where he has leaned back to lave his tongue along your throat, sharp teeth nipping, “But you can take it even if it was, couldn’t you, sweetheart?”

You jerk your head in a nod, deliriously with wanton lust, “Of course, Sir. Whatever you wanted from me.”

He laughs against your skin, and then he is moving up to shove his tongue past your lips, groaning at the mixed taste of you and sweet strawberry wine. You suck on the thick muscle that fills your mouth, jaw aching at the way Crocodile doesn't let up. Your thighs shake when he adds another finger, the pace brutal and impatient.

“C-croc, please,” you plead when he pulls away, lips red and smeared with spit, “You're not the only one who's been waiting.”

Crocodile gives you a smirk, not needing to be told twice. You unwrap your arms from his neck, and he sits back on his knees, thumb hooking into the elastic of his pants, pulling them down, and you watch his impressive length spring free. Your mouth fills with saliva, and if you didn't want your husband inside you so badly, you would demand he sit back so you could suck him off.

Instead, you reach out and wrap your hand around the thick base, smirking when you feel him pulse in your hand. You squeeze gently, eyes landing on the thick precum that leaks from his tip. Crocodile rumbles above you, sounding like the animal that he is named after, and the sound sends shocks straight to your core.

Done with your playing, you sit back and tighten your legs around his waist, causing the big man to rock forward.

“Fuck me, Crocodile. Make it up to me for almost missing Valentine's.”

Crocodile's grin is nasty and mean, sharp teeth pearly and on display, “As my wife demands.”

With those words, Crocodile bats your hand away from his cock and takes himself in hand. He guides himself forward, hissing at how tight of a fit you are, swallowing him down until his hips pressed flush against your own. Crocodile lingers for half a second before he is pulling out, dragging along your walls before slamming back in.

You shout, head falling back to the pillows below as Crocodile sets a back breaking pace. You hold on to his shoulders to dear life, his hand tight around your hip to keep you still as he fucks into your cunt. He shifts his knees under you, arm moving to wrap around your waist, keeping you close as he moves to kneel on the ground. This position pushes him impossibly deeper, and you lean forward to rest your sweaty brow against his chest.

Crocodile bounces you on his cock, bodily moving you up and down, and you feel that hot coil of pleasure snap inside of you when your clit grinds wonderfully against his pelvis. He doesn't stop, growling as you clench tight around him and snapping his hips up, dragging his length against your sweet spot.

“You should see yourself,” Crocodile snarls above you, and bends, pressing his cheek to yours, “Stuffed so full with my cock. You like it when I'm rough, don't you baby?”

You nod eagerly, teeth clenched tightly when your husband tightens his grip in your waist and holds you down while he grinds up. You come quickly after that, hands tight around his shoulders and nails digging into Crocodile’s back.

His pace becomes erratic, and Crocodile can feel himself starting to get close. His wife feels too good, and he doesn't fight it when that heat snaps, pulling you down and shoving in to fill you up to the brim. You watch him, taking in the blissed out way, his brows furrowed and his sharp teeth clench. He paints you from the inside, and the two of you look down at where you are connected to see a mix of slick and semean leak out and stain your thighs.

The two of you stay like that until Crocodile grows soft and he slips out of your fucked out pussy with a quiet groan. You stay draped over him, unwilling to move, and feeling exhausted. The gator huffs at you, though he can't pick when Crocodile lets out a jaw cracking yawn. He stands with a heavy sigh, unbothered by the mess left behind as he lopes to the bathroom.

Crocodile switches arms, tucking his handless arm under your ass to keep you help up while he flicks on the tub. It's too hot for him when he steps into the huge tub, but he knows that you wouldn't tolerate anything cooler than molten lava. He adjusts you so that you are mostly submerged, big frame relaxing against the edge of the tub.

He smooths your hair away from your face, a soft smile playing on his lips when he catches your eyes. He leans in and presses his lips to your brow, “I love you, Doll.”

You grin, eyes falling shut, and you press yourself as close as you can to your husband, lips grazing his chest, “I love you too, Crocodile.”

The ex-warlord hums low, a smirk appearing, but you can still see the slight discontent in his eyes. Today isn't how he would have liked it to go, and you both know it. He tucks you close, head leaning back.

“I won't forget next year.”

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #valentine's day #valentines day #sir crocodile #op crocodile #crocodile one piece #crocodile #crocodile x you #crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #cross guild #masterlist

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cyb3rtarot · 6 months

Text

Pick a Pile: What's an Insecurity You Need to Confront?

Disclaimer: tarot readings are not replacements for professional advice! Take what resonates; don't force a reading to fit. Readings are based on current energy; your future's in your hands. For this reading I used a recolored Smith-Waite, the Osho Zen tarot, and the Oracle of the Radiant Sun.

pile 1⋆pile 2 pile 3⋆pile 4

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 1:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile one! You seem to have interests that aren’t very socially accepted. You could like things considered “nerdy, childish, cringe, or weird.” Some of you feel like you’re a frivolous or immature person. You may also feel this way about your friend group or job. There’s some sense of awkwardness, embarrassment, or shame about the things that fulfill you. This may be a career that others don’t take seriously—like the arts—or something really niche like being a clown. However, I see most of you still try to pursue what feels right despite others’ pressure.

Why do you feel this way?: I feel you’re wrapped up in how others perceive you. You may fear being shunned, ostracized, and alone. Some of you have already experienced that level of loneliness before, so you don’t want to be pushed out again. You could be or have been the friend who feels least important, like the one who gets pushed off a sidewalk while everyone else walks side by side. Many of you have social anxiety; you could feel like everyone is staring at you or get easily embarrassed.

Current method of dealing with this: you like to take your mind off your insecurities and emotions as fast as possible. When you feel judged, you change the topic really fast, like by making a joke. You might blurt out something you didn’t really mean to redirect attention, like making a joke at someone else’s expense. Your constant flight or fight pushes you towards impulsiveness, and flip-flopping between embarrassment and defensiveness. This could take a physical toll, like feeling very tired after socializing. A few people in this group could’ve been bullies to deflect from their own issues (though others of you were on the receiving end).

Advice for healing: reflecting on how projections create shame is beneficial. When we judge ourselves, we feel everyone else is judging us too. When others judge us unfairly, they’re projecting something from inside themselves outwards. We can stay trapped in a cycle of shame where everyone is unhappy, or accept that we deserve happiness in our harmless interests. By taking a different perspective of your fears instead of accepting them as the full story, you can leave thought patterns you no longer align with. For those who often say things they regret, there’s emphasis on thinking before you speak, and working through thoughts before projecting them outwards. A few of you are entering a new community that will be a great opportunity to work on this. If you were drawn to pile 2 I encourage you to check it out!

Extra details: a bench (especially green), staring, golf carts, driving, dancing, physically active, excitable/hyperactive, bubbly, theater kid, geeky, black hair, cringe culture, shy, fandoms, the comedian/funny friend, always smiling, secret/hidden life, bullying, travel/moving, leaving friends, feeling dumb, fake persona, panic, school friends, college, dorms, fairies (fairly odd parents?), Are We Friends or Not by Zeph

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 2 [TW abuse/childhood abuse]:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile two! You guys may feel insecure or struggle in what you want to do with your life. You may feel stuck in “analysis paralysis;” constantly ruminating over all the possibilities but never reaching a conclusion. If you compare yourselves to others, it might seem like you’re going very slow in life, a late bloomer, have no solid plan, or like you’re regressing. Some of you struggle with a heavy past, like major childhood trauma that contributes to your present feelings.

Why do you feel this way?: you have a lot of thoughts in your head that pull you every which way. You might have an inkling of what you want to do, but you get caught in the planning versus the doing. Some of you are stuck between choosing something lucrative or something more purposeful. There are also opinions from others that are confusing you. A few of you have imposter syndrome about a new opportunity, and another few are having problems at a job which is pushing them away.

Current method of dealing with this: this pile seems to deal with it by not dealing with it lol. You want to make the perfect choice so much that you either don’t make any decision or you turn away from what you like. The latter is specific to some of you that have already chosen a more material-focused path but still feel indecisive. However, I don’t feel like you guys are living in an illusion; you’re aware of your situation and the different aspects. You may enjoy the position you’re in despite the insecurity. For example, if you don’t have a job right now, you could enjoy the free schedule. You may like still being taken care of by your family and not having to work. Or, you could enjoy the potential of having many possibilities and not fully committing.

Advice for healing: you need to take a serious look at what you want out of life, what’s important to YOU and not society or others. This includes being more selective with the perceptions and advice you consider; you might also need to be more selective with who’s in your circle. Are there people in your energy who are only there for themselves? Are you maybe a bit too free with sharing your plans and ideas with just everyone? Find out who and what makes you feel fulfilled and empowered. If you also felt drawn to pile 1 I encourage you to look it over!

Extra details: looking for a job or between jobs, optimism, eagerness, vests, libraries, plants, round glasses/brown glasses, light brown hair (especially a bob), quiet or shy kid (some of you outgrew it), teacher’s assistant, childhood trauma or abuse, masculine or androgynous look, horror (the genre), drawing, pop music (some of you love ariana grande 🤨), drag, job opportunities, meditation, overthinking, inner demons, nickelodeon, moving, being busy, lack mindset

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 3 [TW mental illness, substance abuse]:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile threes! Is everything all right?? You guys have an indecisive energy like pile 2, but it feels philosophical instead of material. The insecurity is life itself. You could be having an existential crisis or existential anxiety. You don’t know your purpose or why you’re here, and this creates a stagnant but chaotic feeling inside. Some of you don’t want to be here. Another part of this “insecurity” is that you don’t share this struggle with most. Because others can’t comprehend what you’re going through, it’s isolating. This pile could be very disappointed with how society and survival works, and don’t want to put their energy into the broken system.

Why do you feel this way?: This group has pressure from themselves and others to be successful and “well-adjusted.” To achieve, move forward, and at least appear “normal.” There’s a great internal struggle happening and the pressure to keep up appearances adds to the stress. Mental health issues feel very significant for this pile. You may still conform to so-called normal life while feeling ready to snap.

Current method of dealing with this: most of this pile puts a lot of energy into keeping up the image. There’s a split self where the external you and internal you are living two different lives. You may like to hang out with friends a lot and focus on their lives instead of your own. Your friend group or the activities you do together seem to be filled with gossip, drama, or other excitement that distracts you from what’s going on. I also see a big struggle with overindulgence or addiction. There’s a sense of feeling out of it during the day and then coming alive at night; you might like to stay up or go out really late. Some of you also use partners to fill the void.

Advice for healing: there’s an extremely strong emphasis on removing yourself from people who no longer align with you. There could be a few people or places that always “enable” you to make choices you regret, or always bring drama and toxicity into your life. Specific people in this pile are in a romantic relationship that makes them feel very unhappy. The advice is to reflect on what takes peace from your life and what you can do to protect yourself from toxicity. If you use relationships to never face yourself, you can re-evaluate the energy you put into them. Some time has to be spent with the self to see what the self wants and needs (if you’re drawn to meditation it can be helpful). I highly encourage everyone who wants or needs them to see what mental health services are accessible to you, and to explore potential healthy coping mechanisms.

Extra details: impatient, may like to sing, vocal stim, or rap, goofy, “IT’S FAKE!”(?), a facade/mask, hiding feelings, uses humor to cope or avoid a topic, trap house, memes, spiritual, viewing life as sacred, anti-capitalism, immigrant family, questioning orientation, substance abuse, painting, bathrooms, the middle of nowhere, courage the cowardly dog, pop music, karaoke, bars and clubs, I think we ALL sing, housing insecurity, the characters Mabel or Sarah Lynn could be significant

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pile 4:

What’s the insecurity?: hi pile four! This is an insecurity about being vulnerable as your true self due to the oppressive environment around you. It feels like you carry many responsibilities. You’re expected to act strong, carry out duties, maintain tradition, and in most ways you’ve done this. On the inside you reject this way of life, but also feel fear in fully living out that rejection. This pile may deem themselves as weak, immature, or sinful. I also feel many of you want to be taken care of or protected instead of always having to be the carer and protector, and this could contribute to feeling weak.

Why do you feel this way?: living as your true self may mean becoming the black sheep wherever you are. You may be afraid that the fallout will push you into an unfavorable situation, such as having to leave where you currently are. You might’ve already seen it happen to others. I feel many of you have had to live in a mature role or take care of responsibilities since childhood, and this adds an extra layer as to why it’s so hard to break free.

Current method of dealing with this: I feel like you guys are doing the best with what you have! A good amount of this pile has left or is leaving their hurtful environment, and you’re moving into new communities that align with you. For others, this may just be an internal change. Either way, I feel you’re refusing to be bullied into agreeing with things you don’t believe in. One way or another, you’re going to find a way to rebel how you can and live the way you want. It’s just been hard to reflect on ingrained beliefs and sometimes you catch yourself falling back on ideas you don’t mesh with anymore. But great efforts have been made towards the path you want to be on.

Advice for healing: be open to a completely new journey you would’ve never imagined before! There’s already a lot of energy directed towards the life you envision for yourself. You’re encouraged to be open-minded and allow yourself continuous evolution. There’s an emphasis on giving your inner child a lot of grace and space to heal, even if your first impulse is to judge them. Just as others shouldn’t keep you in their box, don’t keep yourself in your own box either! You may have had to develop certain traits to help you leave old, toxic situations, such as having a hard exterior or going ham during your rebellious phase. Keep what still feels good and let go of the rest; embody what you need and want to be in the present and not the past. But, there’s no need to shame other versions of yourself that had different personalities and beliefs; compassion for past selves leads to compassion for the present and future selves :]!

Extra details [TW abuse mention]: teeter-tottering/off-balance, scooby & shaggy, religious trauma, conservative community, church, childhood trauma, abusive relationships, regretting parenthood, religious deconstruction/leaving, becoming more spiritual, new religious beliefs, Buddhism, moving, financial struggle, single parent, hesitating, sea/sea animals, parties or gatherings, moving/travel across the ocean, writing/journaling, nature, herbalism, plant-induced spiritual experiences, acupuncture, purple

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

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hdusa · 6 days

Note

that was my first time watching a lifesteal stream in like 6 months i dont know what is going on in season 5 at all . the red sky was kinda awesome. guns were scary. i hope u kill more people soon ^_^ will be trying 2 tune in more - @renchant

I can try to summarize the entire season in like 3 paragraphs it’s going to be so terrible and long I’m so sorry watch me do it here we go

So basically… lifesteal season 5 begins…. There’s a group called the PMC that consists of MinuteTech LeoWook and ClownPierce and since they’re all big strong men they beat up every other team on the server. Eventually the PrinceZam + Pangi pirate team group up with Gucci Gang (Bacon Parrot Mapicc) to beat them up because they’re really strong and scary. Eventually Clown stops logging on so they feel the need to form a new team called the Phantoms with Vitalasy Jumper and Reddoons and they go around jumping people by staying logged out and then all logging in at the same time after someone’s lured to a location. It got them a PrinceZam kill but they failed against Mapicc and Bacon. Tons of fights happen that are just PMC vs Gucci Gang + Me or LaLa Legion (Spoke Ash Ro Planet) vs Us or whatever. Eventually new members get added, Squiddo Pentar Jepex Wemmbu. There’s a gay wedding between Parrot and Ashswag. Squiddo kills the entire server at a birthday party. I made 200 backup maxed out armor sets. Midmystic makes Pangi and I an awesome pirate base and lastly a chunk of the server lowkey stop logging on.

Because of the void left by the players that are now gone (Parrot, Vitalasy kinda, Reddoons, Poafa, Woogie, Vort3x etc) Mapicc and I have no choice but to find a way to make things awesome again. We build a void trap at spawn and try to lure Minute and Planet over, successfully killing Planet (this is ok because he’s a 20 heart monster this season btw!!) Bacon joins us and decides we need two extra members so we invite Pentar and JumperWho as well. Together we formed a team called The Abyss, a group of players that want to revive the server by destroying it. By making ourselves the big bads of the server every time people logged on their goal was to kill us so that we’d stop making our void hole at spawn bigger. They tried other things like filling the hole with water and obsidian but those all got fixed relatively fast. One of the things they did was find my secret base and steal all 200 of my armor sets. This made me really mad so I destroyed the entire PMC base. After months of constant fighting over this big dumb hole to the void at spawn eventually we come up with an end goal. We were going to turn the entirety of spawn island into void. While working on this insanely large project we get jumped and after like 5 battles where Planet just keeps dying but his teammates live, he bans himself in the void hole. Before doing so he asks what our goal is so I told him activity, and he says “well in that case I guess in a way I’ve beat you”. This was like cold asf so we immediately switch gears deciding we need to make our plan way awesomer and cooler so we add a puzzle for them to solve!! It’s super long and if they couldn’t finish it in 7 days the entirety of spawn would be turned to void. Our team immediately got to work running big bedrock break machine and cleaning out layer after layer. However, as this is all happening Wemmbu Squiddo and 4CVIT reveal that they have a massive canon that will blow up literally EVERYTHING on the server unless we give them 50 hearts. They blows up 4Cs entire beautiful base to show they’re not joking around. Minute and his group are able to find the canon and break it saving the server but for a moment the entire server was united against Wemmbu and his team. The Abyss goal was completed before our final project even began which sucked, but we kept moving forward. To get people interested Minute (temporarily) added Rekrap2 Back To The Server!!!! He was here to help them finish the puzzle and after a week of us racing to void everything while they solve our puzzles, it was over and they had won. The 5 of us now had to jump into the void but that’s when JumperWho revealed she had been a mole the whole time. For 3 months of constant work on the void hole, she was betraying us. Relaying everything to Minute and his team. Filled with rage Mapicc decided to bomb her base but ended up with Clown Leo Minute Jumper and potentially more on him. I came to help but I wasn’t ready to fight Jumper, somebody I’d been allies with for 3 months. I managed to escape but I couldn’t believe it. Afterwards Pentar also left our team leaving just Mapicc Bacon and I.

The next paragraph is basically everything that’s happened since so basically the last month or so. To fix the lack of order on the server players could now run for God! Mapicc, Minute, Squiddo and 4CVIT/Reddoons decided to run. Simultaneously Branzy was now working on a carnival which was really cool! During one of the games I rigged it so that Jumper would die which was silly revenge but then for serious revenge me and Mapicc tried jumping her. Unfortunately she got Minute to save her leading to us losing badly. Afterwards the presidential god stuff starts taking priority and to campaign we ask a bunch of people to vote for us. In the end we came 2nd place, and Pentar as well as Pangi voted against Mapicc. Pentar made sense since he never said he would vote Mapicc, but Pangi had quite literally betrayed all of our trusts by voting for Squiddo. Also Minute came dead last despite helping everyone on the server regear and also saving them from void and the canon which is hilarious. The winners were 4C and Reddoons who instead of actually running themselves chose to give their presidency to CaptainSparklez! It takes him a while to join and during that time period to fill the lack of things going on Mapicc and I start an all out war against Jumper. It started with a silly spar against MinuteTech that ended up turning into a 2v2 against Jumper as well. We got them to run the first time around but the 2nd time we just lost badly. The next day Jumper said she’d deliver stone from Vitalasys old base to Midmystic so we hid in Vitalasys base all day long. It was taking a while so I changed my discord pfp and name to match Mids and got her to log on 😭😭. Once she showed up we killed her. Minute logged on and she ended up coming back but we escaped with me on the brink of death. Because of this they were angry angry at us but we didn’t care we wanted to make them more mad. We started base hunting and found Minutes somewhat old base for the anti abyss people. While searching the base Minute showed up so Mapicc got there and we 2v1d him. During the fight we spawned a wither in the base bombing the area and revealing a third of the 200 armor sets I had stolen from me during the void arc!!! Eventually Jumper showed up so we decided to run away taking our win. But after this we had another fight where they jumped us at my base and we ended up losing after an extremely long and hard fought battle. Before this I forgot to mention but Bacon Mapicc and I brainstormed a team name as well as an end goal, SPOILERS NO LIFESTEAL MEMEBRS READ BEYOND THIS!!!!

STOP IT! DO NOT READ AHEAD LIFESTEAL MEMBERS!!!

Essentially we wanted to reset the server to how it was on day one, breaking apart every team and then resetting every area back to how it looked on day one. With this goal in mind I realized we’d need to actually be able to kill people so I needed to get past being on 9 hearts. 4C/Red made hearts literally uncraftable so I had to kill. This segment is really cool there’s a 10 or 20 minute clip of everything that happens and if I tried to explain it I wouldn’t do it any justice but I’m sure somebody will link it below. Anyway after the awesome clip moment I’m evil now so I try to kill Pangi. I lead him to our old day one base and get him to help me repair it but he is wayyy too sus of me. I eventually muster up the courage to block off the bases exits and ask him over and over why he voted Squiddo, as this was supposed to be revenge for that. However, MinuteTech logs on and arrives at the base leading to them 2v1ing me but I end up escaping. We scream at each other before I leave to set up a new base. Later that night Pentar calls with Mapicc and I to join our team. Thanks to him I’m basically able to fully regear myself after losing almost everything to all the fights we had with Minute and Jumper. I end up on 12 hearts by this point and I think that’s most the shenanigans wrapped up, all that’s left is the captain sparklez stuff which this specific asker has already seen I think. For anyone else I personally believe this should be vod watched!! Up to you of course but I’m sure someone else on here would be willing to summarize that specific event sometime.

I spent an hour writing this on my phone before bed and I can’t believe it took this long. I thought it’d be shorter. Sorry!

#hello it is me princezam #sorry for making this so damn long #I didn’t know I was evil #this was so unprompted too Lmaoo #My mistake!#actual ask hijacking

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otomiyaa · 6 months

Text

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

#tickle community #otomiya-tickles #announcement

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rottenrosethorns · 10 months

Note

HI HI!! i love ur blog sm i had to request something!! can we pls get some fluffy leon hcs where he's playing w his partner's hair? or caressing their skin, anything along those lines🥺

im touch starved istg

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x gn!reader

Genre: Headcanons, Fluff

Synopsis: Leon’s love language is physical touch – Leon takes you on a surprise date to the local carnival!

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: mentions of carnivals but no clowns, large crowds, mentions of social anxiety

A/N: I don’t know how to write headcanons lol. So, hopefully this is okay for the first time. I also don’t know how to keep things short and sweet, I was itching to write a whole ass fic for this LMAO. thank you anon for the idea and for loving my humble blog! <3

__________

- masterlist -

__________

You always found it surprising that Leon would put 110% effort in planning your monthly date nights. Usually, he’s cool, calm, and collected, so you didn’t strike him as the type to become giddy about some outing; however, Leon always managed to prove you wrong. He was an excellent planner thanks to all the years of training his observation skills.

He knew exactly what you liked and didn’t like. So even if you hated surprises, Leon would always orchestrate the date accordingly and ease into the activity he knew you’d enjoy.

Plus, you trusted him more than you trusted your anxiety!

Before you even leave the house, Leon's sitting on the closed lid of the bathroom toilet, watching as you get yourself ready for whatever outing he'd been brewing for the past week. His eyes would be keen on you the entire time, shifting to look at your reflection in the mirror, then back towards you.

Since he doesn’t want to interrupt your work – you are putting in the time and energy to look good for him after all – Leon resorts to verbal compliments and being your personal hype boy.

You'd usually listen to music or play a video to accompany your routine, but nowadays, Leon was the only companion you needed.

Leon can't sit still for long, so he'll be hovering all around you. One moment, he's standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your midriff to catch you in a tight back hug. Next, he's turning you around with his hands on your hips as he tries to convince you that you don't need anything to make you look more breathtaking than you already were.

You pinch him arm gently, warning him that he'll make you both late if he keeps distracting you. So, he offers to help you with your hair instead.

The man wants to be involved! Let him dote on you!

Surprisingly, Leon's decent as a hairstylist. Experienced from handling young Sherry’s hair, Leon forcibly learned almost any and all basic hairstyles. He'll be extra gentle with you though, making sure not to pull too tight or harshly brush through knots. If he's feeling a bit childish, he'll try to tickle your earlobes. But when you get annoyed, he'll offer an apologetic kiss on your neck before neatly finishing his style.

Sometimes he’ll ask what style you want, but most times you let him decide for you. Secretly, you know he enjoys dolling you up to his expectations, so as long as it looks well kept, you didn’t mind what he did for you.

Leon's not the best driver, so unfortunately, he can't do the one hand driving, one hand on your left thigh ordeal. No matter how much he wants to be cool, he doesn't have the confidence to drive without two hands on the wheel like a teen who'd just gotten their permit.

It's okay though, because he'll interlace his fingers with yours and softly kiss the back of your hand at red lights. Maybe, he can sneak in a peck when there's traffic too.

Leon always opens the door for you and offers a helping hand which never lets go unless absolutely necessary. It's not uncommon for couples to hold hands in public, but when he's brought you to the local carnival with an abundance of people, he's definitely making sure you don't get lost in the crowd. Your safety comes first after all.

If you get anxious around a lot of people, Leon will either rub his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly as he whispers some reassuring words for you or he'll move so that his body acts as a sort of barrier.

You'll always follow closely behind him, tugging at his clothes just in case your hands disconnected for whatever reason. Once you're out of the crowd, Leon will make sure you're feeling okay before holding you closer by latching his arm around your waist.

It’s a win-win for the both of you. You get to feel his warmth from his protection, and he gets to ward off anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. Boy is possessive, so don’t stray too far!

If you get self-conscious about PDA, Leon will pout, but he'll get over it. As much as he wants to smother you in kisses for the world to see that you are his lover, Leon would never force you to be in an uncomfortable situation especially in public.

Therefore, he'll compromise with a ghost touch at the small of your back or a soft grip on your shoulder. He'll know he's doing okay because you'll subconsciously lean closer to him and sometimes put a hand on top of his.

The both of you will explore the carnival grounds for a while, trying your hand at a few carnival games. Of course, Leon is very competitive in nature and an excellent marksman, so he'll absolutely ace at any and all shooter games. But this time, he'll push you up to the podium this time and help you win your own prize.

He'll stand behind you with both hands on your shoulders as he tells you to focus on the three glass bottles. He gives clear instructions, waiting for you to nod your head or make a noise in confirmation before sliding his arms down yours and aiming the toy gun towards the bottles.

He'll hover towards your level, chin resting on the curvature of your shoulder. He does this to help see how you’re aiming, but he purposely pushes himself closer to tease you. He can’t help that you’re just smaller than him and that your figure is always begging for him to embrace you.

He knows you're nervous, but he wants you to win, so he'll wrap his hands around your shaking hands, gripping the stock to stabilize you and the gun before shifting your aim. Once lined up, he'll let you pull the trigger on your own, successfully knocking down the three bottles. Elated, you turn and envelope yourself into a congratulatory hug before happily accepting the prize.

When you're both hungry and take a seat at an open table to snack on the overpriced carnival food, Leon now does the hand on the thigh thingy.

He'll go the extra mile and hook your leg over his, so that you're partially thrown over his lap as he traces random lines on your skin. Again, if you're anxious about large crowds, this'll soothe you.

You can't say you've been to a carnival if you hadn't gone on the ferris wheel, right? Is it very obvious that he plans to seal the night with a romantic kiss at the top of the ride? Yes. But, you'll pretend you don't know what he's planning to do.

Leon's never truly loved someone before, so don't blame him when he gets all his ideas from cheesy romance movies. You'd never expose him though, because you didn't mind being the main character sometimes.

You can tell he's nervous, his eyes are watching the wheel spin round and round as you wait in line. Now it's your turn to calm his nervousness down as you wrap yourself on his bicep and lean your head on his muscles. He'll look away with a soft, goofy smile before taking his free hand and giving you a soft head pat to silently thank you.

Once on the ride, Leon prefers that you sit next to him. Although he liked looking at you sitting across from him, Leon felt much more comfortable with you by his side, especially when you both were swinging higher than the treetops.

As the ride begins to move, Leon will wrap an arm around your side, planting a firm grip on your hip and pulling you close to him. Even when the cart shakes, Leon's hold is firm and keeps you stable, but that doesn't prevent you from fearfully gripping his midsection.

He'll let out a teasing laugh at your timid reaction and press a kiss on your temple as you hide your face in his chest.

Once at the very top, Leon will uncover you and take a moment to admire you. He's very keen on eye contact, so he'll hold your chin with his fingers as he expresses how much he loves you. He'll slide his fingers until they're placed on the side of your neck and pull you in for that cliche kiss to perfectly end the night.

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #leon s kennedy headcanons #leon scott kennedy headcanons

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 6 months

Text

this is halloween || han x reader

Summary: You weren't happy about getting detention, but getting to be around Jisung almost feels like it could make it worth it at first. At least, until you realize that there's a killer on the loose in the school, and that he plans on getting rid of all of you.

Word count: 6.3k

Genres: high school au, slasher au, thriller/mild horror

Warnings & Tags: angst, class clown!han jisung, final girl!reader (gender isn't specified but that's the vibe), graphic descriptions of violence happening inside of a high school

A/N: Last (late) installment in that Halloween mini-series. To reiterate, this contains description of violence and murders occurring within a high school, which can be triggering to some, so do exercise caution.

I.N. · Seungmin · Felix

It was never supposed to go that way.

For starters, you should never have gotten detention and, mind you, you'd still insist that it was totally unfair that you'd gotten it in the first place. Any reasonable teacher would have looked at the facts, which were your test results, as stellar as ever, and Nari’s test results, stellar as they never were, and assumed that she’d cheated and used you to do so.

Your physics teacher could not be described as ‘reasonable’. He’d called the two of you to his desk, using the one mistake you’d made that she had, of course, written word for word on her test as proof, and he’d given you both detention. You would have tried to defend yourself, had your eyes not immediately filled with tears. When Nari had started rising her voice, accusing you in the same breath, you’d known your efforts would be wasted anyway. You’d hung your heard low, and you’d gone back to your seat.

The first detention you’d ever gotten in your life, and it had to happen on the very last year of your time in this dreadful place. God, you couldn’t wait to get out. Yes, college entrance exams were looming terrifyingly above your head, but there was still freedom at the end of the line, freedom at least from your peers. You’d take that as a win.

At the end of the day, having only gotten a fifteen minutes break to spew your venom at your understanding best friend, you dragged your feet to detention. A confused Ms. Kim had greeted when you’d gotten there, all the more so because you were a few minutes early. As you’d handed her the detention slip, however, she’d had no choice but to let you in, though she had patted your shoulder as she did.

You were not the type of student to get detention. You were the one who got straight As, who never raised their voice, who had painstakingly managed to make one friend who you had clung to since your first year here. If you could avoid drawing attention to yourself, you’d take it. You only raised your hand in class if the teacher had been waiting for someone to speak for the appropriate amount of time, tried to make yourself be forgotten the rest of the time. It did not work quite as well as you would like, but you had stayed out of trouble so far.

The same cannot be said of the students who enter the room after you. Nari runs in right as the bell rings, looking sheepish. She mouths a ‘sorry’ in your direction, like she didn’t try to throw you under the bus after the teacher caught her. She’s quickly followed by Hanseok, the school star athlete, who looks like he’s trying to shrink himself, which is no small feat considering how wide his shoulders are. He keeps his eyes on the floor, and you wonder what could have landed him here. He’s not known for getting into trouble.

Next is Taewoon who walks in nonchalantly, like he does that every day, which, to be fair, he probably does. Known troublemaker, you have no idea why he’s here tonight, but he’s regularly caught doing wild, stupid shit nearby. Ms. Kim shakes her head at him and he just shrugs. Last but not least comes Han Jisung, fashionably late, class clown and another regular. As he walks in, he leans on the desk, grinning at Ms Kim.

“Is that a new hair cut? It looks great!”

She rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide a smile in return.

“See, you’re here so often you notice that kind of things.”

“Of course I’d notice!” he protests, sounding offended as he’s weirdly good at doing — to be fair, it does still get him out of trouble most of the time.

She gestures for him to go to his place, but she doesn’t seem too mad, and he has a satisfied smirk on his face as he does. It’s as he’s doing so that he spots you, and his eyes go wide. He looks around like he thinks he’s gotten the wrong room, before altering his course to let himself fall down on the table next to yours

Your heart is beating like crazy in your chest and you do your best to smile at him the right way — you know, not too briefly so he doesn’t think you’re rude, and not too long so he doesn’t think you’re interested because, ahah, that’d be ridiculous, that’d be soooo embarrassing, there’s no way that would happen.

You may or may not have a raging crush on him.

Look, he’s funny. He’s cute. He looks at you when he makes a clever joke to see if you’re laughing. You don’t hang in the same circles, and you know it’s stupid to entertain your thoughts about him, but you just can’t help them. You wish you could quash your feelings before they hurt you. Because they will. Undoubtedly. Been there, done that. Love hasn’t worked for you, and you’d rather not delude yourself into hoping it could this time.

All these good resolutions vanish when Han leans towards you.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, sounding so confused. “Did you get lost?”

You sigh.

“I was accused of cheating on a test,” you mumble, trying to sound casual about it and not like it makes you want to cry.

“What?” His eyes look like they’re trying to pop out of his head. “That’s ridiculous.” Then he leans closer, conspiratorially. “Want me to try to get you out of here?”

Your heart is beating so fast.

“No,” you squeak despite trying not to. “It’s fine. I guess that’s— part of the high school experience, right? I should live through that at least once.”

He looks deeply confused for a second, then chuckles as he settles back in his chair.

“You’re the only person who’d think that way,” he says, and you think he sounds fond as he says it, but you know that your brain is prone to wishful-thinking. Then, with a regain of interest “Tell me if you change your mind, it’s not too late.”

He settles comfortably on his desk, resting his head on his backpack. It’s already dark outside, as it usually is at this time of the year. Cold, white streetlights have turned on over the football field, and the cloudy, starless sky gives the school a gloomy vibe. It doesn’t help that it’s eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that you’ve only heard when you’d lingered too long in the library. Lively halls are empty now, as are the classrooms. On this last night before winter break, no one has stuck around. Even clubs have taken pity on their members and let them escape tonight. It’s only the six of you left in the building, and maybe a few lingering staff members and guardians.

You glance around at what others are doing, trying to figure out what you’re even meant to do in here. Jisung has closed his eyes and is clearly intent on taking a nap. Nari has pulled out a notebook and is writing in it dutifully. Hanseok is looking out the window with a blank look on his face. Taewoon seems to be sleeping as well. Finally, Ms Kim is reading a book — romance, by the looks of it — and seems to have no plan of acknowledging your existence until the bell rings and frees her of your presence.

With a sigh, you start pulling out your books. Jisung opens an eye. With his face smooshed against his backpack, his cheeks look even rounder.

“I can still get you out,” he whispers.

You smile, but shake your head.

“It’s fine. It will all be over in an hour anyway.”

Ms Kim clears her throat to remind you to stay quiet. You jump at it, and she gives you an apologetic look, but you’re already back to burying your head in your books, trying to be small and inconspicuous and most importantly, not to anger anyone. That’s what you do after that, even once the room gets quiet again, and that’s where you still are, half an hour later, when the lights suddenly go off.

You look up, startled, and for a second you can’t see a thing, until your eyes get accustomed to the unexpected darkness. In the meantime, someone stands up, not far from you, and surprised shouts rise in the room.

“Everyone stay where you are!” Ms Kim shouts. Phones are starting to come out, lighting up the room, and soon you see that Jisung’s standing next to you, with one hand on the back of seat. He’s so close he’d brush against you if he moved just a little to the left. “It’s either the electricity or someone forgot we were still here. I’ll go see what’s happening and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Can’t we just go home?” Nari whines. “C’mon, there’s, like fifteen minutes left.”

“Make it thirty,” Ms Kim corrects sternly. “Everyone better stay here. Anyone who leaves will get detention for the first week when we’re back in class.” When protests erupt, she raises her voice. “I’ll let you off the hook if there’s an issue with the electricity, but for now, you guys need to stay there.”

She leaves the room as more people are protesting, not paying one ounce of attention to it. It looks like it’s not the first time something like that has happened to her.

Her footsteps in the hallway have barely faded that Taewoon is already getting up.

“Fuck it,” he says, making a whole show out of it. “I’m not sticking around.”

“You’re going?” Jisung asks. Clearly, he’s thinking of doing it as well. He glances around at the rest of the group. None of you have moved from your seat. “What about you guys?”

“I can’t miss practice,” Hanseok says.

“I’ve got a part time job, I can’t lose it,” is Nari’s answer.

That leaves you, and it takes you a second to realize that Jisung is looking at you and waiting for an answer.

“I— I don’t want to get detention again,” is all you can manage to mumble. It sounds pathetic to your ears, but he nods all the same.

“What are you doing?” Taewoon asks him again.

“I’ll stay behind this time,” Jisung sighs dramatically. “Live your life to the fullest for the rest of us, okay?”

Taewoon snorts.

“Sure. Enjoy yourselves here. I’ll see you after the break.”

You feel envy as he escapes the room. You wish you could care this little about all the trouble you’d get into. At the same time, being in your shoes brings advantages that you quite enjoy. Just not particularly tonight.

Then, Jisung pulls his chair to come sit next to you, setting his phone on your table so you can both see each other’s face, and you change your mind.

“You should have taken my offer,” he smiles at first, before his expression shifts to a more serious one. “You okay? It’s happened before, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m fine,” you answer, maybe too quickly. Mostly, you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that and if you look so fragile to him that he thinks this would send you into a breakdown. “Does it usually come back on?”

He shrugs.

“Yeah, most of the time. Sometimes there’s a tree that’s fallen somewhere it shouldn’t and she lets us go.” He glances out the window. “It’s pretty windy tonight. Maybe it’s the case.”

As you look out, you see Taewoon crossing the football field, before disappearing under the bleachers, from where he can reach the parking lot. At least one of you has gone free, you think, feeling bitter about all the things that have kept you in this spot.

“Hey, you’re getting the full, five-star high school experience,” Jisung’s voice brings you back to the present. “I can get you in trouble more after that, if you’d like.”

A small laugh escapes your lips.

“I think I’m good.”

“You could see the boys’ locker room from the inside,” he insists, and you laugh again.

“That does not sound like a good experience!”

“The inside of the teachers’ lounge,” he offers as you roll your eyes. “Steal exam questions. Change your grades. Give lower notes to your rivals.”

“What rivals,” you protest, though you’re grinning from ear to ear at this point.

“Are you saying that no one’s good enough to compete with you? And here I thought you valued my intelligence, wah, you think you know someone—”

His chatter takes your mind off your situation. There’s something about having Jisung’s undivided attention, about him clearly having noticed how down you were feeling and trying to cheer you up, that makes you feel all fuzzy inside. You’re not used to someone’s eyes staying on you for that long, certainly not his eyes. And yet he’s choosing to use time that could so easily be spent doing something else with you. Your heart beats so fast you think it’s going to fall right out of your chest.

Ten minutes go by before Nari’s voice interrupts your talking.

“Shouldn’t Ms Kim be back by now?”

Her expression is composed, she’s leaning back in her chair to look at you, but her voice is at a higher-pitch than usual. A glance at your watch tells you that she’s probably right and a cold hand comes wrap around your heart to squeeze it, before you shake it off. No need to feel that way. There’s likely a completely fine explanation.

“Maybe she’s run into Mr Park,” Jisung offers, smoothly. Then, with a gasp, “Maybe they’re having a quickie in the principal’s office.”

You chuckle quietly, but Nari’s not amused.

“Shouldn’t someone go look for her?” she asks. When no one volunteers, she continues, “She’ll never believe me if I go and I really can’t lose my part time job, but, you know, maybe if it was someone else…”

You know where this is going, and she’s not exactly wrong, yet you worry about getting in trouble all the same. Stupidly, you’re afraid you’re going to get yelled at. You hate getting yelled at. You’d probably cry if that happened.

“I’ll go if you go,” Jisung says, eyeing you, saving the day once more — saving your day at least.

“Okay,” you reply, and you surprise yourself at how quick and easy that was. You blame it on the relief you feel for not having to go out there alone. “I’ll come.”

He smiles at you when you say that. It’s kind of embarrassing how it makes butterflies take off in your stomach.

“Everyone be good,” he chastises the other two as you open the door. “Nari, you’re in charge while we’re gone, okay?”

She sticks her tongue out at him while Hanseok scoffs. Still, they’re both grinning as the two of you venture out into the quiet, dark high school.

You’re not one to believe in supernatural creatures. You like logical, provable, tangible things. Still, out there, irrational fear seizes you, wrapping its tentacles around you. Your footsteps echo loudly in the hallways, and the measly flashlight from your cellphones are nowhere near enough to light up the entire place. No matter how your orient them, there remain dark patches all over.

“It’s kind of cool,” Jisung comments as you’re starting to bury yourself in your thoughts again. This time, you don’t know if he’s doing it for your benefit or if he doesn’t like it when things stay quiet for too long. “Who knows, maybe we will see her with Mr Park.”

“I think they’re both very much married,” you reply, and some of the worry washes away when you hear your own voice. Suddenly, you’re not in this unfamiliar place anymore, but back in the halls of the high school that you walk in every single day.

“Like that’s ever stopped people,” Jisung grins. “C’mon, he’s not bad-looking for his age.”

This time, a very genuine laugh bursts out of you.

“That’s not an image I needed!” you protest.

“Like you’ve never thought about it before,” he teases, and as you let out noises of disgust, his flashlight sweeps over the floor. “What do you think? Do we start with the custodian and the principal’s office, or do we go for the basement? That’s where she’d be if it’s a problem with the electricity?”

“She’s probably in the basement if she’s been gone all this time,” you reason, but you really do not want to venture down there at the moment. Even with Jisung by your side, you don’t think you’d enjoy this small of a space with no lights other than your own. Just thinking about it has your throat becoming tighter. “But, uh, maybe we can start with the principal’s office?”

Jisung agrees to that with more enthusiasm than it warrants, and then you listen to him dramatically offer possibilities about how Ms Kim and Mr Park could have gotten together. You laugh more than you should, more than you would were you with anyone else in the same situation, and it’s not the right place nor the right time, but you know you’re falling in love with him. You’ve always suspected that it was just a matter of spending more time with him, always told yourself that it was therefore not a good idea. But here you were now, and there was not a thing you could do about it.

“Okay, here we are,” you say, interrupting a truly wild scenario in which the teacher and the principle are Russian spies who got married as a cover but were actually high school sweethearts. “Should I, uh, knock?”

Jisung shrugs, moving past you to try the handle. As he does so, you’re struck by how quiet it is. There’s no way she’s in there, we’ve wasted our time, you think.

Then, to your surprise, the door opens. Jisung walks in. Then freezes in the opening.

“What’s going on,” you ask, taking a step forward to look over his shoulder, “don’t tell me they’re really—"

But you’re not met with the sight of two lovers. Instead, your eyes first find Mr Park, slumped on his desk, something that you can’t identify sticking out of his back. On the floor, right in front of Jisung, is Ms Kim. She’s lying on her back, her eyes wide open and her pupil still and empty. It takes you a second to realize that the angle her head is at with her body is wrong, and a second longer to understand that that’s because her throat’s is nothing more than a wide, gaping wound. Underneath her, a puddle of blood that you realize you’ve stepped into. She looks so pale, compared to how she was just a few minutes ago.

You open your mouth to scream. Before you can, though, Jisung’s hand comes to cover it, and you only let out a whimper as your eyes search his. For the first time tonight, he’s lost his nonchalant confidence.

“Someone could still be there,” he whispers to you. “We shouldn’t stay here.”

With one last look at your teacher, he closes the door.

Things are blurry after that. You remember him grabbing your wrist as he drags you away from the scene. You remember him trying a few doors before pulling you into an empty classroom. You remember him vomiting in a trashcan and self-consciously wiping his mouth afterwards. You remember sitting on a table in silence for you don’t know how long.

“We have to get out of here,” he says at some point. He sounds sure of himself again.

“We have to— we have to go get Nari and Hanseok,” you answer. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel guilty for not having thought of them immediately. Shit, they must still be waiting for the two of you to return. Someone could have— someone could have already—

You’re on your feet before you think. It’s unlike you, but it says a lot that your brain doesn’t harp on that in the moment. There’s an urgency in your chest that you’re not used to feeling.

“We need to go get them.”

Jisung studies you for a second, then swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Okay,” he says. His voice is weak. “Okay. We’re getting them and then we’re going out of here, right?”

You nod. Guilt and fear are battling within you, but both feelings are directed towards the people you’ve left behind. You think it would kill you if something happened to them that you could have stopped.

The walk back to the detention is faster, but it feels like it take ages. Jisung keeps close to you, checking behind you while you keep your eyes on what’s in front of you. You see nothing, hear nothing. Just like earlier, the high school feels empty. Unlike earlier, you know it is not.

You’re almost there, starting to breathe again, starting to think you’ll make it, when you hear the screams. Terrified, you back into Jisung, who wraps his arm around you.

“Light,” he hisses, “light out, now.”

You’re too scared to do anything other than what he suggests. It overtakes your whole body, freezes your muscles into place. His chest is pressed against your back as you stay perfectly still, and you can feel his heart beating wildly, betraying the fact that he’s in the same state as you. In the distance, a door slams open.

“Don’t leave me here!” Nari screams.

In the dark, someone that you have to assume is Hanseok rushes past you. He’s fast, powerful. Whoever you hear after him is fast too, footsteps squeaking in the hallways, and all you’re thinking is that Nari is wearing heels.

At least Hanseok’s making it out is the thought that follows — for a second at least, because it isn’t long after that there’s a shout of frustration and the sound of someone struggling with a door. Then screams, intercut with disgusting, wet sounds that you can only imagine are what a knife produces when it’s brought down into someone. Tears stream down your face in silence. The front door’s locked and Hanseok— Hanseok is—

“Nari,” you whisper, choking on the word.

Jisung nods and pulls you forward, but by the time you get to the detention room, it’s empty. You check for a body, turning your cellphone’s light back on, terrified you’ll find one, and you can breathe again when you don’t find her anywhere.

“Now we have to go,” Jisung insists.

“But she’s—”

“We’ve done what we could. C’mon, we have no way of knowing where she is, she could be out by—”

The speakers creak horribly.

“Attention, students,” a man’s voice comes through. It’s loud and booming, but more than anything, it’s even. It doesn’t shake, doesn’t have the hysterical accents that you’ve heard in movies. If anything, it sounds like he’s playing the role of a school announcer, and the thought makes you sick to your stomach. “Lee Nari. Han Jisung. Kang Won— Ah, no, I suppose that’s been taken care of, hasn’t it. Im Taewoon.” Then he pauses for a second, before reading your name, and you feel overcome with helplessness. Before that, it felt like it was— You’re not sure what you were feeling, but it didn’t feel targeted. Now, you think that even leaving the school might not make the nightmare end. “Well, you might not be who I’m looking for,” the man chuckles— he fucking chuckles — after saying your name. “We’ll see. If you’re good, I’ll consider letting you off the hook. The rest of you though… you won’t cause trouble again.”

This is like a bad slasher movie with a stupid premise, something you’d make fun of if you weren’t caught in the middle of it.

“Windows and doors are locked,” he announces dramatically. “Breaking out only means that I’ll come get you, so do yourself a favor and surrender, hm? I promise to make it quick.”

Then he hangs up.

“What do we do?” you whisper to Jisung. “You— you love horror movies, right? What should we do?”

He stares at you.

“Yeah, I— I do. I didn’t think you’d remember.” It’s not the moment, but for a second — less than that, a fraction of it — you’re no longer a terrified prey but a teenager again, feeling like you’ve just exposed your crush. “I— one of us should leave.”

You shake your head.

“He said he’d hunt us. He could show up at our parents’ house—”

“I know,” he interrupts you. “But that’s— that’s why one of us should stay here.”

Again, you shake your head, more vehemently this time.

“No. No way. We’re not— We’re not doing that.”

He grabs your arms, the motion gentle instead of forceful, like one more attempt at comforting you as he looks straight into your eyes.

“Listen. One of us needs to leave. I— I think he’s probably watching the windows. He must know that we’d try to leave, right? So he’s— probably ready to give chase.” He swallows thickly. “If he— If he has a rifle or something— But that’d give someone else time to escape, if he leaves too. If not… Someone could go get help. Nari might have called the cops already, but that— that doesn’t mean they’re coming right now.”

“No,” you repeat, because you think you know where he is going with this.

“I’ll— What do you want to do? I— I think I should go.”

He’s close enough that you can see there are tears in his eyes.

“You should— you should be ready to leave from the other side when I do,” he whispers, and you want to cry too. “I’ll distract him.”

You shake your head, but you don’t think you can change his mind.

“Hey, I can be really fast, okay?” His tone gets lighter. “Maybe I’ll outrun him.”

You’d be more inclined to believe that if the man hadn’t been able to catch up with Hanseok — though you suppose that he wouldn’t have on open grounds, and that gives you some hope that you desperately cling to.

“You better,” you hear yourself say.

Jisung lets out a long, deep breath, then turns around to face the window. It’s true that they’re locked; they always are at the end of the day. But they’re not known for being particularly solid. As a matter of fact, they regularly get broken by football players. You wonder if that’s what got Hanseok in trouble, then shove the subject as far down as you can, because it reminds you that he’s— he’s—

“Okay,” Jisung mumbles, grabbing a chair and getting ready to swing it at the window. Just as he lifts it above his head, though, he stops himself and sets it down to face you.

Something passes between the two of you. It’s hard not to think that this might be the last time you see each other, however his escape attempt goes. Jisung swallows thickly.

Then he’s grabbing your shoulders and pressing his lips against yours. It’s brief, kind of clumsy. Nothing about it is how you envisioned your first kiss. But his lips are soft and warm, and he’s holding on to you like he never wants to let go.

He does anyway, looking at you with wide eyes.

“F–For luck,” he mumbles.

“Sure,” you choke out in response. “No, uh, no problem.”

You’ll die of embarrassment at that later on, if you don’t just die tonight.

His chair smashes through the window, the sound unbearably loud in the silence of the school, and he doesn’t stick around to see what happens. Cutting his hands on the broken glass, he jumps out while you back out of the room to go crouch in a dark corner. You peek to see him sprinting through the football field, waiting with baited breath to see the killer following after him.

He doesn’t.

You wait longer.

Still nothing.

And you realize you’re stuck in the building with him.

“Well, well,” the voice in the speaker says, right as the realization settles, as calm as it was the first time. “Seems like we’ve had an infraction. Too bad. Seems I’ll have to go hunting once I’m done with you.”

Then it cuts again. For a while, you can’t hear yourself think over the terrified thoughts that fill your mind. You think of following after Jisung, but you have no way of knowing if the killer would let it slide twice. Truth be told, with Jisung gone, you feel your old patterns of thinking catching up with you. You’re too scared to go, and the more you wait, the more you think it’s now too late to go. Your anxiety has you in a chokehold, with no intention of letting go.

What does get you to move is the greater fear that the killer could come inspect the place, now that Jisung’s left. He must have noticed that only Nari and Hanseok were in the room — if he thinks Taewoon was still here, probably because he was murdering Ms Kim at that point, that would have to mean the three of you were together, in his mind. It begs the question of how Taewoon got out, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he had his ways of doing it, even with the windows closed.

You don’t turn your light off, listening closely as you cross the hallways. You’re aiming for the kitchens, though you haven’t actually stopped to think about it. All that your mind can supply with as a justification is that you need a weapon. Realistically, you don’t think it would do you any good. You probably wouldn’t be able to use it against anyone. But who gives a fuck about realism right now? You might die here tonight. Three of the people you used to see around every day are gone forever already. If finding a knife makes you feel better, you’ll get yourself a knife, dammit.

You regret it when you make your way through the cafeteria. Because of how it’s situated, there is more light coming from outside in here than there was elsewhere. You’ve already started to see the dark as an ally, and leaving it makes you feel incredibly exposed. Despite that, you run through it, bent in half, trying to stay behind the tables, and get into the kitchens.

You’re searching through the drawers for a knife when the most terrifying sound you can think of right now resonates behind you.

The door. Someone’s opened the door.

You crouch behind one of the many kitchen isles. Silent tears are running down your face, but adrenaline is keeping you from completely giving up — for now, anyway.

“Who do we have here?” the voice asks, and you press a hand against your mouth so you don’t accidentally give yourself away. It doesn’t just echo in the cafeteria though, no, it comes out through the speakers as well. Like he wants the survivors to know that he’s gotten one of you, and that they never had a chance in the first place. “I’ll be very disappointed in you if it’s you, (Y/N). If you’d stayed put, you might have had a chance. Now, I have to wonder if you helped your friend leave, too.”

Glancing over the corner, you see a man in a mask slowly walking through the kitchen. Slowly, you start backing up, careful not to make a sound. If you run, maybe you’ll get to the door. If you get to the door, maybe he’ll lose you and you’ll be able to hide better.

Please. Please. You just want to make it out of here. You want— you want to go to college. You want to ask Jisung what that kiss meant. You want to get home to your parents.

It’s as you’re getting up that you bump your head into one of the drawers that you’ve left open. Once it happens, you’re on your feet in an instant, making a dash for the door, but the man intercepts you before you can get away. You fall on your back when he pushes you, and he shakes his head at you.

“I thought you were better than that,” he sighs. “It truly is a shame that you got caught up in this, but I suppose you weren’t as good as you made yourself out to be.”

He raises the knife. Tears blur your vision.

Then there’s a loud smack. Nari appears behind him, a bent plastic tray in her hands and tears streaming down her face.

“I’m s–so sorry you got detention because of me,” she sobs out, chest heaving, and all you can do is stare — though a part of you that right now is very far from the surface appreciates the sentiment. You note, vaguely, that she’s barefoot, probably having ditched the heels when she realized they would only get her in trouble. She holds her hand out, and you take it without hesitation, pulling yourself to your feet just in time to see the man rise again behind her. He’s rubbing the back of his head, but he’s nowhere near unconscious, and he’s close. You pull Nari away, but his knife still slashes across her back and she falls forward, screaming.

You back up, but his eyes aren’t on you. Instead, he goes to stand above Nari. She tries to crawl forward, crying, and you see him lowering himself above her.

If you don’t want to watch her die in front of your eyes, you need to find the fucking knives.

The first two drawers you stumble into as Nari struggles and desperately hits at the men are empty.

The third one has knives.

You can’t afford to think as you rush back towards them. The man raises his knife once, and Nari catches the blade with her bare hand. You try to tune out both the screams and the sounds. Then he grabs her wrists with the one hand. Raises the knife again.

You’re out of time.

You stab him in the chest, and he lets out a sharp, horrified gasp. You push him backwards while his blade catches at your arms, the adrenaline too strong to feel it for now. You drive the blade into him, again and again and again, until he’s fallen and his knife has gone still, and all that fills the room are Nari’s tears and whimpers of pain.

It’s only as your own pain catches up with you that you admit what’s just happened.

You did it.

You lived.

They take Nari and Hanseok to a hospital first, both of their wounds being much more significant than your own. Hanseok’s condition, from what you’ve heard, was ‘critical’. You’d felt hope at that, at first, but the looks people had exchanged had soon quashed that.

They weren’t optimistic.

As they leave, you stay wrapped in a blanket, sitting in an ambulance as your arms are being disinfected as the cops search the building. All of your limbs ache like you’ve just run a marathon, but you can’t make yourself look away, no matter how hard you’ve tried. Staying there, you hear, vaguely, that the killer was a former member of staff that had been let go earlier in the year. He’s alive too, for now, because you hadn’t known where to aim when you’d attacked him — ironically, that’s the same reason Hanseok’s still breathing. His exact motive was being debated still, but you found unable to care. Why would you give a shit about why he'd done that? All that mattered was that he’d done it.

You’re sitting there, stewing in those thoughts, when Jisung appears. You don’t think they were supposed to let him through, but it looks like he managed to sneak in. He’s clearly been crying, his eyes all red and his face puffy.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he chokes on the words. “I didn’t think— I didn’t think I’d be leaving you alone in there with him. I— I did as fast as I could, I promise, but they— they thought it was a prank call and I—”

“It’s—” You want to say ‘It’s fine’, but the words refuse to come out of your mouth. “It’s not your fault,” you manage to say instead. “You had no way of knowing. I’m— Nari and I should both be fine. You did— You did the best thing you could have done.”

Nari had mentioned, as you were lying with her on the cold floor of the cafeteria, that she’d seen you walk in, soon followed by the man. She hadn’t found herself able to stay away. Who knew, if she hadn’t felt so guilty, maybe she wouldn’t have gone in. Maybe if it had been Jisung, he’d be gone by now. Maybe if you’d left through the window, the killer would have followed you.

There are too many what ifs to let him blame himself.

“I’m glad you made it,” you say softly, trying not to cry again.

He nods, opens his mouth, then shakes his head as tears flow once again, and just comes to sit next to you. It’s not so often that you see Han Jisung so completely quiet. You rest your head on his shoulder, trying to bring him what comfort you can, certainly taking all that you are able to from his touch.

You know, in that moment, that the consequences of tonight would likely follow you for the rest of your life. You don’t know if there will be a single day in the future where you don’t think of it. But right now, the thought that maybe, just maybe, not everything that comes from tonight has to be horrible and dark and crushing helps you to just keep breathing.

Jisung’s fingers quietly rub circles on your skin. He presses a kiss into your hair, mumbles ‘Thank you’s to no one in particular.

Finally, you allow yourself to close your eyes.

since this is different from what I usually write (and gets brutal), I'm exceptionally not using my taglist.

i enjoyed writing this and wrote almost 4k for it today, so, uh, sorry if it stops making sense at around 3k in. something that i particularly enjoy is breaking genre expectations by jumping into another genre. here, the first half is inspired by your typical high school movies, before veering into a thriller/horror movie, which i quite like (but it can also be disorienting and i'd get it if you didn't enjoy it). anyway.

if you've made it to this point, I hope you've enjoyed this series and this installment of it! don't hesitate to comment or reblog, honestly any feedback or support is appreciated. i'll see you all again for the hyung line in December (and maybe even in the meantime with other projects, who knows). take care!

#han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #han imagine #han jisung imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #han angst #han jisung angst #candywrites

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