#FUCK YEAH CLOWNS :o))))

[the-meme-monarch]

BATAYAN HEADCANONS yopee

according to this video by firaplays on youtube, batayan’s song you get after his kiss, male widow serenade, has backwards lyrics. from the contents of the put-forwards-and-then-translated lyrics, i think the song is the story of his first interaction w his yet-to-be husband. dude "take me to dinner first"ed his way out of being arrested

the picture of him you get after his kiss has this dog in it which i THINK is a pomeranian? i like to think he adopted it :] i was thinking of naming it Tao but @crypewstoast came up w the name Bugs and i think that fits better. all the Taos in other love-de-lic legacy games look like the exact same dog after all.

this one has barely any standing in-game but the guide book SEEMS to imply that the scrapped nurse and girl characters were going to be his wife and daughter, along w him owning a company that goes bankrupt. his story has since changed to be what it is in-game, so in my-friends-and-i’s reconceptualization of them, the nurse’s spouse was batayan’s sister, making batayan her brother-in-law and the girl’s uncle. maybe. they’re not together anymore but they also didn’t. legally separate. also merkoi, @crypewstoast ’s oc :]

last one comes from what i think is a glitch? where you give him the fbf classified ad and he says the same line twice, im interpreting it like he just Realized the dread of it all

[expolikestoart]

CLOWNS! CLOWNS! CLOWNS!!!!!!!!

:oD

[signedkoko]

Ah I jsut wanted to say that I ADORE how you write HH Mammon- he is everything to me <3

So long as your up for it, I was hoping you could write Mammon with an s/o who casually refers to him as their husband (they’re not married)? Maybe they’re talking to someone while Mammon’s in the room and he overhears them say “yeah! My husband was saying…” like it’s the most normal thing in the world!

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Mammon X Reader [Romantic]

In which you refer to Mammon as your husband, despite the fact that you aren't married. Genderneutral reader.

You and Mammon have been together for a couple years now

You'd met all the milestones, like moving in together, nicknames, and for him personally, not being exploited!

It was a feat no one had ever performed—to gain the sin of greed's trust—and it was one you were extremely proud of

Mammon never said much about it, since he never really thought about partners and just took you partially for granted

You were his, and in some way, he viewed you as a soulmate

Like, yeah? Of course you're with him? It was meant to be. Duh.

Even so, asking you out was already something that took almost a year for him, so a proposal felt so far away that he hadn't really considered it

It's not like there was a 'good age' to propose, nor did the two of you have mutual friends that married, so it was far out of his peripherals

At least, that was the case until one evening when you were at the clown pageant rehearsals, talking to some of the performers

Fizzarolli and you had a bit of rapport, and the imp always tried to make small talk with you

Mammon wasn't really listening, just looking around, when he overheard the two of you speaking

" So. What's it like to date Mammon? Not to intrude! I just can't really imagine him...like that. "

" Not intruding! Well, he's not your average guy, but he's a lovely husband. He always... "

Your voice faded out as he took in the word husband, and his jaw dropped

Fuck, yeah, okay, husband? Had he proposed in his sleep?

No way, you didn't have a ring, and he would never skimp out on a ring for you

Then he felt a strange guilt

He hurriedly vanished back to his office, marching back and forth, muttering out his thoughts

He hadn't even thought about it, but clearly you had

What if you were getting sick of him not asking? How could he have glossed over something so important to you?

Planning for a proposal begins then, as busy as he is with the pageant, you take a priority in his life

Might even call up Lucifer just to ask about spouse-having

Author's Note - Omg, thank you so much for the compliments! I feel like its a necessity because I have so many requests for him that its one of my auto recommended tags LMAO Thank you so much for requesting! I answered this so fast sorry if thats scary 🥂

[evilminji]

Behold! o/ The Face Of Benevolent Evil!

Mr. Principle! A professional hero and educator!

Also possibly some sort of stoat hybrid! Certainly a chimera of Japanese fauna! With the Quirk High Specs, he is one of, if not THE, smartest beings on the planet of which he resides! With a background perfectly justifying a decent into hatred and villiany, he instead chose to channel his incredible world shaking intellect into the shaping of future generations!

He likes to fuck with people!

For FUNSIES~☆!

What can he say? It keeps a man young and mentally stimulated! Plus the hysterical screaming of his staff and students is HILARIOUS. He can even argue it makes for good reaction training! Unforseen situations, children! React!!! *psychotic chortling*

Mmmmm, yes. We all have our trauma responses. Ways we deal with them. He should probably find other means... but he won't! Tea and tormenting the student body make for good future heroes, you know! They adapt!

But! You may ask! Why am I introducing you to this... *polite yet somehow deeply threatening smile* c-completely sane and normal individual!? Esteemed educator that he is! Ha ha...

A good and not at a under threat question!

Villains? Are fuuuuuckin STUPID!

Doesn't matter how many PHDs you possess! In fact! That makes it WORSE! You moron! You absolute fool! No traveling circus would have you, you sub-rate CLOWN of a jingle jangle dunce jester! You have a god damn PHD! Possibly MULTIPLE PHD!

And you thought "ooooh I should go into cwiiiiime~☆"?

Do you hear yourself when you talk? DO YOU?! Ooooh boohoo. They won't let you study what you WANT to study. It's called an ETHICS BOARD. And YEAH, NO SHIT! Maybe get over it and keep you fucked up fantasies to your SELF.

Or? If you REALLY can't hold it in? Lay the ground work like EVERYONE FUCKING ELSE! You're not special! Everyone wants to play god! It's FUN! They let you have the COOL toys! But you have to EARN that shit! Not jump straight from graduation to "fucked up superscience"!

And? If it's NOT the Ethics Board? But just some bureaucrat on a power trip? You don't have to fucking STAY. This? This RIGHT HERE? Is why I-Island fucking EXSISTS.

APPLY.

They are SO MANY countries you could move too. SO MANY other labs. You actual DUMBASS.

But NO! You decided to commit to a fucked up underground Villian Lab. As though HUNTING THOSE isn't the PERSONAL fucking passion project of THE SMARTEST BEING IN JAPAN. Frankly? You deserve this. You deserve this and our school doesn't know you. Never heard of you. You whoms't?

Coulda changed the world. But instead all you did was piss of The Fuzzy White Demon Lord of UA. Rest in pieces. *click*

*sound of doors smashing open*

*violent Raid Upon Your Labs noises*

But! You may ask? What's IN the Lab?

What MAKES this a DP crossover?

I like your question asking spirit! Good one! And the answer? You know what's better then ONE(1) Nedzu? A second one that you can ACTUALLY control this time! After all! You could consider Mr. Principle a prototype. A proof of concept, if you will. If you were able to make ANOTHER.....

Well, you would set off EVERY. SINGLE. ALARM. Nedzu has set up!

All of them!

Because he don't PLAY THAT.

He has long last trauma from the labs and is the SOLE FUCKING SURVIVOR. There WERE others. They Did Not make it. And their slow agonizing deaths are carved into his brain for the rest of his life. Truely "The living shall envy the dead"; it was a place that made hell seem merciful.

When he declare Never Again?

He fucking MEANT Never Again. He will BURN your empires to ash, with you in them. No More Labs.

So :) You can IMAGINE :) HOW HAPPY HE IS :)

That someone out there is trying to RECREATE his SUPER traumatic childhood, on ANOTHER CHILD. Ha ha! Gonna be a second Nedzu huh? Planning to torture HIM like you did me, HUH? Shove him in a cage and treat him like an animal? Force him to watch as the others die? Collars and whips and cattle prods? Mazes?!

Nedzu may lose his shit.

Juuuuust a little bit.

But if anyone there knows what good for them? They saw NOTHING. What's a little PTSD flashback between friends? Now what is the baby?

Smashcut to said baby!

Because it was a TEAM effort, Danny was successful in "Nuh Uh!"ing out of Rulership. But NOT out of governance. Since he DID help. He's a Councilman now. It's? Not as bad as it could be, honestly. Since it's opened the Zone up to a more democratic system.

Still held by "kick the ass of the person you wanna replace" but still!

Babysteps.

Thing is? There was apparently this weird? Leak? Like a couple hundred years ago, in this one area, that was never addressed. Everyone just moved their doors and stuff. Treated it like the floors flooded. But now that they HAVE someone to complain too?

They all want their territories back.

"Go fix it!" What are we? Janitors?

Danny looses the rock, paper, scissors competition. He's pretty sure Boxy cheated. But like? Dude has a kid to go home too, so Danny doesn't fight him to hard on this. Uuuuuugh. Just remember the Spider-Man motto. Great power~ blah blah blaaaah~

And? Wow is it fucked out there.

The whole PLANET has to be limnal as FUCK. Yikes.

Problem is? When he and his team (Because YES, he HAS learned from his mistakes, Jazz.) get close to the... frankly the Zone here looks like distorted spiderwebbing. With him leading the charge, obviously.

....something happens.

It's... it's not a portal. Wrong color. It's like someone USED the weird spiderwebbing effect to... to reach INTO the Zone? But they are severally Limnal. Clawed hands, blue tint. But that's not the problem.

No, the problem.

The Horror.

The thing that his team can only watch on in agonized terror as it plays out... is that hand? It shoots out of nowhere. Ghostlike in the Zone. Meaning it must be living. And PLUNGES directly into Danny's chest to wrap around his core.

Time seems to slow.

He can't even scream in pain. At the violation. His team, acquaintances, yes, but friendly ones. Can not even cry out in horror, as they watch their friend and team lead be butchered before them. Before that uncaring hand is ripping back. Perfect ice and starlight in its uncaring grip.

For a terrible moment... he is in two places at once.

Then he is crushed in a burning grip. Like molten bars. Watching his own body dissolve into nothing in an instant, pain and horror still etched upon his face. The beginnings of screams ripping from his team as they jerk away from the nightmarish threat.

Then he can not think at all.

He... he TRIES. Knows he has been captured. Is certainly not the sort to give up easily. But... he's so tired. His body feels? Weird. Not wrong, per say. It's HIS. But... small and weird. Like he's shape shifted into a new form and hasn't adjusted yet.

....

.......

...........

He's getting really sick of all the goop against his whiskers and in his ears. It feels WEIRD against his fu- WAIT a second... did those assholes shove him into an animal? Why?! To contain him? Ha! Jokes on them! He's DONE THIS before!

For FUN!

He once spent a whole ass summer as a tiny dragon just 'CAUSE!

Unfortunately, said assholes notice him waking up. Dump him in a glorified hamster cage. But like.... a SHITTY "I don't care about the pet I bought" hamster cage. Dude. And he's naked.

Is that Japanese? Ooooh! It IS! Thank you, Tucker's Weeb phase.

......actually, never mind. Lotta dehumanizing language there, my guys. What is this? The GIW international? You couldn't even give me PANTS? Swear to God, call me an "it" ONE more time and the next time I have to go? I am going to aim through the bars at your-! *alarms going off*

....wasn't me.

I mean, be all means, ha ha and get fucked, but? Wasn't me. Oh hey! Some one exploded the doo-

AND? In Lab 4?

Nedzu finds a child with fluffy, ungroomed black and white fur, and the curious yet cautious eyes of a survivor. They are the most magnificent green, pale and luminous they glow in the laboratories lighting. Paws too big for his small frame, delicate ears on the swivel, equally large. Yet to grow into either. Adolescent, at best.

He watches the child take him in. Note his features and the chaos behind him. The injured scientist under his feet. Come to him conclusion. Nedzu will not rush him. Now that he... he stand the chance to be the hero he himself never had. It is a strange feeling. At once cathartic and unbearably painful.

He is given the equivalent of a cheerful grin, as the lad points the the lock on the cage. Is asked if he happened to bring a spare pair of pants. He can not help his amused chortle as he makes quick work of the lock. The unbearable RELIEF he feels.

He... he was not too late.

These monsters had no chance to crush the boy's light. To make a monster of him, like they did with him. He survived his laboratory, his hell. But not all of him left that terrible place. He knows that. Some innocence, some goodness, died alone in the dark. But here? He insured there would be no chance.

With amusement, he watches the boy turn the lab upside down until he finds spare scrubs. Triumphant, he then considers his own, tiny claws. Dismisses them. Attempts to hop up on a chair to retrieve something sharp. It? Is unbearably cute. To watch him rip and shred, problem solve. His little mind churning away. Whiskers twitching as his eyes dart around, considering his options.

Nedzu offers one of his spare knives.

Watches him light up.

Adorable~

@legitimatesatanspawn @hdgnj @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @lolottes

[illubean]

Hi, I just stumbled onto your blog and I love your writing. If you’re accepting requests then can I please request Chorollo, Illumi, and Feitan with a s/o reader similar to Shizuo Hewajima from Durarara. Basically they’re crazy strong without any enhancements and when they get angry their known to throw cars, vending machines, street signs, etc. maybe they get caught in the cross fire when the reader is attacking someone who pissed them off and are amazed by the readers natural strength. Please and thank you.

HXH W/ a ShizuoHewajima!S/o

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Crack, Headcanons, Gn!Reader

i never actually watched Durarara but...hes kind of fine.....

Warnings: violence but it's silly

Illumi Zoldyck

you guys met under odd circumstances

he was out with Hisoka for...whatever reason and both of them turned around at the sudden scream of the magicians name

his face goes paler than it already is before he turned to Illumi and was like "Well, I gotta run now. Tata!"

and you are literally sprinting after the clown at full speed wielding a stop sign that still had bits of concrete attached to it's base

and Illumi's like that's weird I don't sense any aura from them

the next time he encounters you is at a bar, where he was to meet his red haired companion once again

you apologize for him having to see you chase down Hisoka like that, explaining that you don't particularly like violence but your anger get's the best of you

he was already intrigued that you were assumedly able to rip a stop sign out of the ground so naturally he asks you about it

"So I take it you're an enhancer?" "Enhancer of what?"

now he is even more interested

do you have some sort of nen ability that even yourself didn't know about?

and then Hisoka is like no, they just strong like that

and he's like Oh.

every time he has seen an exhibition of your strength, Hisoka had always been on the receiving end of your wrath

and he decides that even though you may or may not be nenless, you are powerful enough to be made into his spouse one day

Chrollo Lucilfer

bro was in a disguise just walking around town when he first met you

as he was walking he saw some dude get tossed through a shop window with a table following suit

"AND STAY OUT YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR SHIT"

Chrollo peeked through the broken to see you standing there, angrily and seemingly underpaid

and he was surprised that it was you who managed to throw both a grown man and a table through a window and across the street

you seemed like every average person so how the hell did you even do that?

and being the crazy yet curious guy he is he steps in through the broken window and you're like oh fuck that was unprofessional

and you chat and you tell him you don't like absolutely bodying people like that but your body has a mind of it's own when angry

and you apologized to him for almost catching him in the crossfire

bro asks for your number then boom you start dating

and he's learned how to avoid ticking you off

yeah, sometimes he makes you mildly angry and gets a mug or two chucked at him but he has yet to be on the receiving end of a literal boulder or large household appliance

Feitan Portor

it was him

he was the one that managed to piss you off

how? who knows

but you are chucking very large pieces of rubble in his direction and he's kind of regretting whatever he said though he'd never admit it

he's encountered many strong people in his life but you're lifting literal boulders WITHOUT nen?

scary

he's probably watched you have a lifting competition with Uvo and win

how the hell did you win against a literal beefy giant!? he will never know

at some point in yorknew, you lifted an entire police car above your head and tossed it like it was nothing

and he develops some sort of silent respect for your strength

he thinks its kind of hot

sorry i have no clue where to go with this

[baylz]

CHAPTER ONE: sneaking out

main masterlist | now playing: See You Later, I'm Gone by Robert Lester Folsom

present time

Sneaking out through the bathroom window wasn’t uncommon. She had done this on more occasions than she can count whenever things just weren’t going so great. Bad dates, her high school reunion, family gatherings, and now she was currently shimmering through a window to avoid her ex boyfriend and best friend.

It was ungraceful, to say the least. Her dress had gotten ripped in the process and y/n silently prayed that she could fix it later. Trudding back to her car, she stopped dead in her tracks to see that it was getting hooked to the back of a tow truck.

oh, fuck.

“Hey!” She sprinted and attempted to get the attention of the large vehicle. The driver came to a stop and rolled down his window, a cigar in his mouth and looked every bit of uninterested in what she had to say.

“Listen pretty lady, your clown car was parked infront of a fire hydrant.”

“Cl-clown car?” She spuddered, completely taken aback. “It’s a Volkswagen Beetle.”

“Yeah, well you can come pick up your beetle tomorrow at the shop.” Y/n cautiously looked around the dark street and back to the trucker. It was the middle of autumn and she had just become aware of the goosebumps forming on her exposed legs. A gust of wind blew passed her and she shivered from the contact.

“Well—” She took another look at her surroundings. There weren’t many people around this part of the city which was a bad sign. Walking home in an empty area like this she would surely get grabbed or followed. Shooting a helpless look at the man she asks, “How am I suppose to get home?”

“You can’t call nobody?” Oh, right.

She embarrassingly pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Yamaguchi was a no-go since his car wasn’t working right now and Tsukishima always has his phone on vibrate. Fucking asshole. The only person left was…”Kuroo.” She could feel the life being sucked out of her as her thumb hovered over the call button. The thought of doing the walk of shame back to the party didn’t seem so bad compared to hitching a ride with her pesky boss.

Unfortunately, her prayers were heard because the screen turned black before she even got the chance to call him. She mentally cursed herself.

The trucker grew impatient at this point, putting the vehicle in drive and moving forward. Y/n pleaded with him to at least let her hitch a ride but he stubbornly refused. And then, he was gone.

Y/n was slowly making her way down the sidewalk, ocassionally looking behind her. She wearily watched each car that rolled passed her and made sure to keep a safe distance between her and the street. She continued this for a good minute before she noticed a car slowly trailing behind her. Her pace sped up and the car followed suit. She began to panic now. Y/n didn't know whether to run or act as if she didn't see them. It wasn't until the car began getting closer that she bolted.

The car chased after her. Y/n made beeline for a nearby alleyway, hoping the lose the stalker. She ducked behind a dumpster and waited, heels in each hand, and ready to attack. A car had stopped at that moment and the sound of a car door shutting caused her to be on high alert.

They’re coming.

She listened patiently as the footsteps drew closer. Her grip tightened, hands trembling with fear. 

Tut!

Closer.

Tut!

Closer.

Tut!

NOW!

“Hello, is anyone there—OW!” Y/n stood from her hiding spot and threw her pumps at the perpetrator. He stumbled back, broken glasses falling to the ground. “Fuck, Y/n.” The stranger grumbled in pain.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” She probed, pointing her other heel at the fallen man. She did her best to be intimidating but the not subtle quiver in her voice betrayed her.

He felt around for his lost frames before staggering to his feet, putting them back to where they belonged and faced her.

He held his hands up in surrender. “It’s me. Keiji.”

"O-oh." Surprised but also relieved, she dropped her shoe and let out a ragged breath. She didn't know how long she had been holding it in. Her legs almost gave out from the adrenaline wearing away, leaving her a shaking mess. Akaashi attempted to reach out and help but Y/n braced herself on the brick wall instead.

Keiji couldn’t do much except collect her scattered shoes from the dirty cement. Akaashi was aware that he had frightened her so he didn’t dare move an inch when he asked, “How about I take you home, hm?”

The car ride was quiet and Y/n stared out the window at the passing buildings. New York was always so much prettier at night. Despite its downsides, the city was just more lively and active once the sun had set. Everyone is constantly on the move and you never feel alone because there was always someone walking right along side you whether they were going to the same destination or not.

Keiji would occassionally glance at the brunette next to him, trying to think of what to say first. I mean, what could he say? How are you? Sorry for scaring you? He didn’t see anything good coming out of those. She wouldn’t even look at him so he wasn’t even sure if she wanted to talk to begin with. Akaashi braced himself, clearing his throat and straightening his back. He didn’t even get a chance to get a word in before you said, “Stop here.”

Akaashi parked infront of a small duplex. “Thanks for the ride and sorry about your glasses.” Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt, not even looking at him once. He searched for what to say as a response, but it was too late because she had already exited the car and was making her way towards the front door. He watched as y/n entered the house and leaned his head back against the seat once she was gone. "dammit."

next chapter

TAGLIST: [OPEN] 35/50 @snorelexa @rrinkyoo @justanotherbimboslxt @neptunes-secret-garden @gigiiiiislife @akaakeis @giocriedpower @moonschocolate @aliensstolemyheart @milffiz @httpakkeiji @ryuverse @howsurjune @iiwaijime @cosmiicdust @moucheslove @sunsribn @anqelkoz @alexithemiyatic @tangyangie @your-mum3000 @cupidsblonde @renardiererin @k0z3me @cr4yolaas @atsumuenthusiast @nobodybutnnoorr @yumiecheesecrackers @rivaiken @iamflav @v3nusplanetofluv @naviaberries @fuji-sen @izanacult @linmabbe

[comment if you want to be added]

© BAYLZ 2024 | PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST MY WORKS ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS TO CLAIM AS YOURS

[didishawn]

Make sure he hears you are taken (Pedri x Reader) smut

Warnings: jealous Pedri, basically he answers your phone to make sure a guy getting too close to you hears how well he fucks you, smut, exhibitionism of some kind I guess, lots of Spanish

Masterlist

The whole trouble starts with Pedri on his car driving Gavi home after training.

He has been quite busy lately, not having enough attention for you lately so he feels as if he has to make it up to you, taking chance of tomorrow's free day to dine you out then fuck you well into the morning hours.

"Oye, coge mi móvil y llama a y/n, porfa, que quiero confirmar para hoy a la noche" he tells Gavi, the younger boy nodding, unlocking his friend's phone - your birthday the password, and pressing call on your contact, a picture of the two of you, rolling his eyes at how obsessively in love Pedri is. (hey, take my phone and call y/n, please, that I want to check for tonight)

The phone rings twice before your voice sounds on the other side, putting an instant smile on Pedri's face.

"Hola, amor, ¿como estás?" you greet him. (hey love, how are you?)

"Bien bien, solo quería confirmar si todo sigue en pie para hoy a la noche" you hum in agreement, and he grins widely. (good, good, just wanted to check if everything is still good for tonight)

Then he hears it, male voice in the background, your voice responding to whoever it was, Gavi's eyes widen, wanting to know what is about to come down.

"¿Con quien estás, amor?" (who are you with, love?)

You voice is lowered as you speak next "Un pesado de la uni, diciéndome algo de que quería quedar conmigo esta noche" (some loser from college, telling me something about wanting to hang out with me tonight)

Gavi's mouth is wide open as he side eyes his friend.

"¿Es tonto o que?" (is he stupid or what?)

You hum again at your boyfriend's question "Es muy pesado. Pero mejor lo hablamos luego, que no me quiero ni imaginar la cara de Gavi escuchando el chisme" (he is so annoying. But we better talk later I can't even imagine Gavi's face listening to the gossip)

The younger boy scoffs "¡No estoy chismoseando!" (I am not gossiping!)

"Ajá, si claro, haré que me lo creo. Bueno amor, nos vemos luego, te amo" Pedri says it back and indicates Gavi to hang up. (aha, yeah right, I will do as if I believe that. Well love, see you later, love you)

Pedri's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel.

"Tú sabes que ella ni siquiera mira hacia otro hombre" (you know she doesn't even look another man's way)

"Claro que lo se, pero no sé de qué va ese puto payaso, no es que nuestra relación sea secreta ni nada, todo el mundo sabe que estamos juntos" (of course I know that, what I don't know is what that fucking clown is about, it's not like our relationship is a secret, everyone knows we are together)

"No le des muchas vueltas, tú piensa que simplemente es un gilipollas que ya se cansará" (don't think too much about it, just think that he simply is an asshole that will eventually get tired)

But not even Gavi's unusually rational words can keep Pedri's mind away from whoever that fucking asshole is.

Pedri doesn't let his fleeting thoughts ruin your night together, though, even if his mind is full of jealousy.

You know he is jealous, he might be one of the best footballers out there, but acting is not a talent of his.

His fans go wild at how many stories and pictures he has posted tonight, some of them simply showing you off, one of the two of you kissing, another of the fancy restaurant he has taken you to, all photos accompanied by romantic quotes that almost has your eyes full of tears because of how happy they make you.

You know lay on your comfortable couch, a bottle of wine shared between you as you cuddle into his chest, him placing kisses on your head, both of you just happy with each other's company. He looks down at you with so much love in his eyes, a dumb smile on his face as you ramble about your day, your eyes as full of love as his.

Then your phone dings.

You both ignore it, but the sound repeats, once, twice, thrice.

You sigh, picking up the phone, a frown on your face as you see who the messages' sender is.

"¿Pasa algo?" your boyfriend asks you, his face full of concern. (is something wrong?)

You puff and show him the screen, the name of a boy on the notifications, asking you about what you are doing, telling you you would have had so much more fun with him than with 'that football player you are dating', there is a image attached to that Pedri can only guess is a dick pic, another message telling you all about how hot you are - as if you even needed a reminder of that, and how horny you make him.

"Supongo este es el gilipollas, ¿no?" you nod, he scoffs "Maldito cabron de mierda, ¿de que puto va? Asqueroso" (I suppose this is the idiot, right? Fucking, shitty asshole, what the fuck is he going about? Disgusting)

He drops the phone on the couch, his face hidden behind his hands, you approach him, you head in his neck "Lo siento" (you apologise)

He shakes his head "¿De que te disculpas? No es tu culpa sea un baboso" (what are you apologising for? It's not your fault he is a slob)

"Debería haberte dicho antes que no me dejaba en paz" (I should have told you before that he doesn't stop bothering me)

"No es tu culpa, se que he estado ocupado últimamente" (it's not you fault, I know I have been busy lately)

"No es excusa" you say, then lean forward placing a kiss on his neck "Déjame pagártelo" (it's no excuse. Let me make it up to you)

A handsome smile takes over his face, your mouths meeting in a passionate kiss, he cups your face, the kiss leaving you breathless.

He separates, his kisses going lower and sucking your neck, leaving a mark behind, his hands go lower too, gripping the hem of your dress, pushing it up.

"Venga bonita, dejame quitarte este vestido, dejame verte entera" (come on pretty one, let me take this dress off you, yet me see all of you)

You are left only in your panties, having chosen to not wear a bra tonight, his mouth salivating at the sight of you breasts, the cold air gardening your nipples. He leans forward, making you completely lay down as he showers over you, he kisses both breasts, his hips are grinding into yours, he already has you moaning, your hands buried in his hair, pulling on its strands, making it messy.

You are pulling on his shirt, wanting to see more of him, he kisses your check and takes it off, letting you see his strong upper part, your eyes stuck on the signs of the happy trail leading to the bulge his pants struggle to contain. You mouth attaches to his neck, he now lays on the couch, gazing up at you, getting comfortable as you lips go lower, hands unbuckling his belt, you push his pants down, the same with his underwear, his cock bouncing against his stomach, red tip, the veins looking about to explode, there is precum coming out and his balls look heavy.

"¿No vas a chuparla?" he teasingly asks, you roll your eyes. (are you not going to suck it?)

"Todo un caballero. Ni un por favor ni nada" (such a gentleman. Not even a please)

"Por favor, mi diosa a la que amo más que nada en el mundo, chupame la polla. ¿Así mejor?" (please, my goddess who I love more than anything in this world, suck my dick. Is that better?)

You hum, mouth wide open as you struggle to take him down your throat, your hand stimulating what you can't fit, his head goes back, his hands on your hair as you go up and down.

"Joder, pareces un experta y todo" (shit, you feel like an expert and all)

You let go, hand still working up and down "Mi novio me ha ayudado a practicar" (my boyfriend has helped me practice)

"Joder" he moans, hoarse voice high pitched "Suena a que es muy suertudo" (fuck. He sounds like a lucky man)

You kiss his tip, his heart is about to explode at how cute you look "Yo soy la suertuda" (I am the lucky one)

"Debatible" (debatable)

His hands pull on your hair, making you drop his cock as he once more pushes you to lay on the couch, he hovers over you, lips meeting yours as one hand grasps your cheek, the other reaches down to pull off your panties. Once they are gone, that same hand pushes your legs open, a finger starts teasing your clit, all of this without letting go of your lips.

"Dios, como te quiero" he says as you need a breather, he is looking at you as if you had hung the stars on the sky, in his mind you probably have. (god, I love you so much)

There are only inches in between you as he pushes a finger into you, fucking you with it slowly, you basically moaning into his mouth.

"Tan apretada y solo llevo un dedo. ¿Como se va a sentir cuando sea mi polla la que esté dentro?" (so tight and it's only one finger. How will it feel when it's my cock inside?)

You can't respond, now concentrated on the feeling of two fingers inside of you and another rubbing circles on your clit. Breaking eye contact is not a possibility, his eyes call yours, you can only see him, only the two of you left in a world that could be burning down for all you cared, his lips may be kissing your breasts, but his eyes stay on yours.

That is, until the loud ring of your phone, making you groan as you reach to toss it away. Pedri is faster and picks it up, disgust taking over his expression as he sees who the caller is.

"De verdad, que no se puede ser más subnormal" he is about to hung up, when an idea strucks his mind "¿Qué te parece si le dejamos escuchar lo bien que te follo, amor? Así se le queda bien claro que tú solamente eres mía" (seriously, you can't be more stupid. How about we let him hear how well I fuck you, love? So he can understand that you are only mine)

You think it over for a second, then slowly nod making him grin widely before planting along kiss on your lips and picking up the call, placing the phone right next to your head.

You are sure the guy is talking, but you can't really understand what he is saying - something about it you are there, Pedri is on his knees in between your legs, face on your center as he licks a long stripe up, lips wrapping around your clit, you let out a loud moan that they guy on the other side of the phone surely didn't miss.

Pedri is devouring you as if you were his last meal, there fingers now inside of you pumping in and out restlessly, his mouth doesn't leave your clit until he feels you about to cum by the high pitch on your whines and moans. He lets go, leaving you just about to reach the extasis that you long so much for.

He picks you up and turns you around, on all fours you feel him on your entrance, his tip teasing you.

"Recuerda dejarle bien claro que solo hay una persona que te puede tener así" (remember to make it clear there is only one person that can have you like this)

"Pedri!" you whine when he sticks only his tip inside of you, you are breathless, a whining mess as you hide your face in the pillow your boyfriend made sure to be avaible so you aren't as uncomfy.

"Dios, estas ya así cuando ni siquiera he hecho nada todavía. ¿Como vas a aguantar cuando te esté follando como te mereces?" (god, you are like this without me doing anything still. How will you manage when I fuck you like you deserve?)

His tip does playful taps against you, until finally he is entirely in you in one harsh thrust, a loud moan escaping your mouth and into the phone's microphone.

"¿Eso se sintió bien, amor?" you desperately nod and he laughs. (did that feel good, love?)

The pace of his hips is hard and fast, unforgiving, the noise of skin against skin is loud, not as much as you moans and whines, his groans are lower, hoarser. He leans down, biting into your neck, his strong chest against your back as he desperately ruts into you, heavy balls hitting you, his heat enveloping you.

"Deja que escuche lo bien que te follo, déjale claro de quién eres" (let him hear how well I fuck you, make it clear who you belong to)

"Pedri!" you whine, you are close, about to come as you tighten even more around him, trapping him inside you, your sound get hight pitched, so do his groans.

His hips stutter a bit, his pace faltering as he reaches down to you phone, speaking into it "Payaso, ¿te pensabas te iba a dar el placer de escuchar lo linda que se escucha al correr se para mi? Vete a la mierda, déjala en paz" (clown, did you really think I would let you the pleasure of hearing how pretty she sound when she comes for me? Go to hell, leave her alone)

He hangs up and tosses the phone aside, fully concentrating on you and how good you feel, picking you up and setting you on his lap, moving you up and down, thrusting, harshly into you, one hand playing with your clit, his lips attached to your neck.

"Venga bonita, vente para mi, necesito sentirte a mi alrededor" (come on pretty one, cum for me, I need to feel you around me)

You can't really think straight but nod desperately, cumming at once when you feel his tip kissing your cervix, all his cum filling you up to the brim.

It's not enough, you both know that, and by the time you are done, his cum is seeping out from you and it's early morning hours.

Needless to say, the boy never dares to even look you to the eye again.

[hotvinimon]

Miya Osamu <3

“Samu…Samu…Don’t look directly, but I can see your doppelganger… just behind you.”

You and your sweet, loving, handsome, onigiri man of a boyfriend were on a night date in the street of Shibuya. Osamu was busy in choosing what to eat first, while you took pictures. Suddenly you saw Osamu’s clown toghether with a curly haired, bitch-faced man, an orange head and an owl faced beefy boy.

To say that you were shocked would be an understatement. A guy… or I should say Samu’s clown was chatting with his friends just few meters behind your boyfriend, only his hair's more blonde, and his vibe's more... clownish.

“Doppelganger ??? what do you even me-” “CAN’T YOU FUCKING WHISPER ?? AND DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT. BE MORE SUBTLE.” you whisper yelled.

Suddenly the doppelganger looked in your direction and frowned comically and advanced towards you.

“OH MY GOSH, SAMUUUU, HE'S COMING... HE'S COMING THIS WAY!”

Samu quickly looked into the direction, and unlike you he was frowning ??? similarly like his doppelganger ??? what the heck was going on. Was there some kind of invisible mirror thing that you couldn’t see.

Even the doppelganger's buddies seem cool, like they're in on the joke.

The doppelganger was now, standing in front of you and looking at your boyfriend, like he was communicating with his eyes. Before anyone could say anything…

“OMYGODOMYGODOMYGOD… CAN I TAKE A PICTURE WITH YOU SIR ????”

All eyes are on you, but who cares? It's not every day you meet your boyfriend's mirror image.

“Oh.. of course cutie, are you a fan ??”

“Well, I’m a human but I’ve never seen my boyfriend’s clown my entire life.” you giggled like a kid.

“DON’T DO THAT”. That ‘DOPPELGANGER’ yelled at your boyfriend.

“I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING.”

“YOU ARE MAKING GOO-GOO EYES AT HER. LIKE YOU MAKE AT FOOD.”

“I AM NOT.”

“YES YOU ARE”

All you could hear for next fifteen minutes was funny curse words and skin slapping sounds. Meanwhile, the curly-haired dude shoots you a concerned look.

“Ohhhh… so you are his big brother. Nice to meet you Tsum, I’m y/n, Samu’s s/o.”

Unlike your fictional brain, the ‘DOPPELGANGER’ turned out to be your boyfriend’s twin brother.

“Nice to meet you too y/n/n” Atsumu showed his signature smirk.

“IT’S MIYA TO YOU AND IT’S Y/L/N TO YOU.”

"WHAT THE HECK, BASTARD? AM I SOME GIRLFRIEND STEALER?"

"MORE LIKE AN UNINVITED DATE CRASHER."

"AT LEAST I'M EYE CANDY."

"YEAH, WELL, MOM LIKES ME MORE."

More insults fly, more slaps echo, and the furniture starts to question its life choices. Meeting your boyfriend's twin? Not too shabby after all.

Keys -

y/n - your name

s/o - sgnificant other

y/n/n - your nick name

y/l/n - your last name

Requests are open

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [7/…]

— OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader

“It's funny how I still forgot, it would be a hundred times easier if we were young again,”

— Mitski, “Two Slow Dancers”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. 

In the aftermath of your drunken escapades, you wake up to find yourself faced with new challenges, including a killer headache, a group of fish people, and the very clown responsible for putting you in this position. Needless to say, it does not bode well to take on fights while still inebriated.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), morally grey reader, violence, descriptions of blood and wounds,

A/N: The next chapter will be fully dedicated to Buggy and Reader/"Cross Hairs"

"Chug, chug, chug!" Both Buggy and Shanks cheer you on as you all but inhale the contents in your bottle in one go, not stopping until all of it has gone down. You pull back with an audible inhale, and after a couple of quiet seconds, the loudest BUUUURP! ever to cross the oceans erupt from the pits of your stomach.

Your two crewmates watch in awe, then erupt into hard fits of laughter that have them rolling on the ground while clenching their stomach. 

After pumping your fists victoriously into the air and discarding the bottle, you join them soon after and settle down around the campfire. You three barely managed to put one together, but with the help of a few thin twigs and a bottle of the captain's purest liquor, you got it going soon enough.

Buggy wipes the tears away from his eyes and pulls another bottle of stolen beverages from his bag. "Not bad, not bad at all. Still, listen to this."

Jumping to his feet, Buggy swings the bottle, takes a glorious gulp, and punches his chest a few times. Out comes a large BUUUURP! that surpasses yours by miles, and continues to echo from around the island.

You immediately raise your hands in applause, laughing in that sweet way that makes his pulse quicken. In truth, your laughter is hardly elegant, more like the sounds a dying boar makes, yet he enjoys it all the same.

With one arm straightened out whereas the other goes to his chest, he makes a dramatic bow in front of you across the fire. "Thank you, thank you, my fair lady. I'll be here all day."

When he straightens up again, he sees the fire shine so clearly in your eyes; the flames dancing in your irises, and he feels warmer than the fire itself. You're looking at him - him - with such adoration that his stomach feels funny. Maybe it's the liquor playing a part in this, yet he doubts it.

"Buggy, that was so gross!" Shanks says with mirth, then gestures for the bottle. "Give it here! I'll show you how it's really done."

"Sure, I'd like to see you try!" Buggy hands him the bottle.

"There's no way you can surpass that, Shanks." You oppose lightly. "No fucking way."

"Yeah, watch me!" 

Shanks takes a generous portion, pats his stomach, and out comes yet another BUUURP! 

Sure, it's impressive enough, but nowhere near Buggy's, and the redhead acknowledges this with a defeated sigh before anyone even says anything.

"It's alright," Buggy severs his hand to pat him patronizingly on the back. "You tried. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, you know?"

Shanks pushes his hand away with a grin. "Oh, lay of it!"

The night continues like that, with some more drinking, some more burping contests, and sharing their thoughts on the latest endeavors of the Oro Jackson. Whenever the crew docked for a while someplace, the three of you would usually find some way to enjoy your time off away from the crew's supervision like this.

It also involves the three of you singing sea shanties together, arms hooked around each other as you sing at the top of your lungs:

"Gather up all of the crew, It's time to ship out Bink's brew. Pirates we, eternally, Are challenging the seas!"

It is just fun; three teenagers enjoying their teenage years to the fullest until the day they can venture on their own.

After a while, Buggy starts to feel his bladder press, probably from the liquor. He tries to ignore it at first, not wanting to miss anything, but it does not take long before he has to oblige with his body's request.

You're the first to notice him moving. "Where are you going, Buggy?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "Just got to take a piss."

"Don't go too far," Shanks adds with a twinge of mischief in his eyes. "I've heard there are boars on this island, don't want to get chased, do you?"

Buggy feels chills run up his arms, but he refuses to acknowledge it. "S-Shut it! There aren't any shitty boars here, or we'd see them by now!"

"Yeah, but I've also heard that they catch the smell of piss particularly strong,"

"Bullshit!" He trudges off. "Boars, my ass!"

"Be careful, Buggy!" you call after him.

The chills across his body immediately get replaced with a sense of pride, and he disappears to do his business with a smile.

Once he's finished and headed back, he can hear your soft laughter as he approaches the makeshift campsite. His heart nearly drops into his stomach when he sees what's going on.

You and Shanks are sitting closer together now, knees width apart, and you're laughing. Shanks just told a joke, a terrible joke that makes even Buggy cringe, yet you laugh all the same. 

That soft laughter, just not for him this time.

It shouldn't make him feel as shitty as it does, yet a nauseous feeling settles in the pits of his stomach. You and Shanks are crew mates and friends, just as he is. He's never caught onto any implications that you like him in that sense, but why does it sting so much then to watch the two of you like this? So close, so at ease, so carefree and soft.

He often thinks about the time you saved him, about the time you brought an entire crew down just for him. You held his hand, you were worried; he’s been thinking that maybe there’s something there that isn’t just in his imagination.

But, wouldn’t you have done the same thing for Shanks, too? Has he maybe mistaken camaraderie for something else? Something that's not there?

Buggy suddenly feels ill, and he can’t blame it on the alcohol this time.

He thinks that it makes sense, in a way that gives his deep-rooted insecurity a boost. Shanks has always been the better of the two; a natural leader, calm in battle, and strategic in the ways that he himself is unable to be. 

Meanwhile, Buggy is ... Well, just Buggy. 

Buggy with the weird, red, enlarged nose people always make fun of. 

Buggy, who can never seem to pull off the same stunts as successfully as Shanks can. 

Buggy, who cracks the worst kinds of jokes that oftentimes make people laugh more out of pity than genuine humor. 

You always laugh at them, laugh with him, but maybe he’s been mistaken there too?

It's obvious that Shanks is the better choice. Buggy would follow him anywhere, and he'd follow you anywhere, yet the thought of you following Shanks whereas Buggy trails behind the both of you like a stray puppy just feels ...

"Ah, there you are." Your voice snaps him out of his head as you wave him over. "You didn't come across any boars, did you?"

It takes him a moment to respond, and when he does, it's nothing grand. His voice has been reduced to a demure murmur as he steps closer to the fire. "No, there is nothing."

"You sure?" Shanks asks with a grin. "Thought I heard some noises back there!"

For some reason, Buggy snaps "IT'S NOTHING!"

His outburst evidently catches the both of you off-guard. 

"Buggy, are you al—?"

"I'm fine." He's not. "But we should head back before the captain instigates a damn search party for us. We've probably been out too long."

He turns his back to you and starts heading in the direction you came from, and he feels his chest tighten so fucking much it makes breathing hard. He tries to tell himself it's not what he thinks, but at the same time, that nagging whisper in the back of his head that always stalks him is incessant.

"It makes sense," it whispers. "After all, it's never you."

———

"What in the hell is the matter with you?"

It takes you several minutes to force your eyes open. You're in the restaurant, you uncover, lounging over a table with a thin napkin serving as the only cushion for your cheek. 

By some miracle, you manage to aim your eyes up from behind your arms and see Zeff standing there with his hands on his hips, like an angry grandfather of sorts.

"Zeff," you groan and heave a tired breath. Fuck, your head is killing you, as though a hamster wheel has found residence in your cranium. "It's too early for this."

"It's almost eleven o'clock, the sun is up."

"Still too early," 

"Heard you practically robbed the bar last night; the bill is through the damn roo-"

Before he gets to finish, you dig into the pocket of your pants and pull out a hefty pouch of berries on the table. A few spill out on the wooden surface, clinking. "Just take this as compensation and give me another bottle while you're at it."

Zeff looks at the pouch, does a mental count, and finally takes it after deciding that it's enough. "Huh, thought that scrawny chore boy was broke?"

"They are." You turn to let your chin rest on the table, giving you a little better view than before. "But I did have a pension plan before I retired. Keep it with me when it counts."

Zeff sighs and pockets the berries without complaint, but not before giving you an unimpressed one-over. You're happy you don't carry a mirror with you; probably look like shit, and you feel like shit, too. Your hangover could've been considerably worse, but at this moment in time, you'd prefer it if you went to sleep and didn't wake up for another twenty years or so.

"What the hell is going on with you, lass?" Zeff finally asks, and this time, he retains some of his usual roughness. 

"Nothing ..." you murmur.

His bushy eyebrows scrunch. "I've been working at this place for almost a decade, seen people at their worst. People down on their luck, people who've lost, people who've grieved."

"And?"

"And I'll tell you something, lass. No one looks quite as damn destroyed as someone who's had their hearts broken."

The hamster wheel comes to a screeching halt, and you abruptly sit up to glare at him. "I'm not heartbroken. Why does everyone insist on that?"

His lips tug into a halfway smirk like he's just caught a fish on his hook. "You're strong, I'll give you that much, but no one's above the loss of love. So, who was the bloke?"

"No one," you almost spit, narrowing your eyes. 

Zeff remains undeterred, even a little proud. "Couldn't have been a 'no one' if they managed to capture the interest of the Beast of the East, can they?"

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from lunging at the old man for even insinuating that someone - specifically him - has managed to put you in such a sorry state. You won't give the Chief the satisfaction.

With some herculean effort on your part, you take a deep breath and recline in your seat. Quietly, without looking at the chief, you order: "Three beers and today's lunch."

Zeff shrugs. "Fine, but after, you should check on your crew. That swordsman really took a hit,"

Right, Zoro challenged Mihawk to a fucking duel, and the memories come flooding back to you. You glance up at that chief, masking the underlying concern with a face of indifference. "He alive?"

"Yes and no. If you want to know, go see for yourself."

You nod, and he leaves you to stir your hangover. Maybe it was a mistake to get as shitfaced as you did, but that doesn't change the fact that you tried to keep them from making mistakes. You did what you were supposed to, yet still, why does it feel like this is your fault?

You've grown fond of the crew, and it's become more of a headache than you initially bargained for.

The waiter comes with your order on a plate, not Sanji this time, you discover. In fact, he's nowhere to be seen. 

Without wasting your breath, you immediately dig into your meal like a woman starved of sustenance. It tastes delicious, but the residue of yesterday's liquor on your tongue dilutes the taste. You don't care, though.

Shortly after finishing half a portion of your lunch, you resume with your bottles. A slower pace this time, to ensure that your current condition doesn't significantly worsen, but still fast enough to keep you from remembering.

Remembering too much.

Half a bottle into your stupor, the entrance doors slam open and a pang of pain burst through the nerves in your brain. All you can think is that it's way too early for someone to be stirring shit up.

A round of gasps echoes through the establishment, and when you peek up from over your shoulder, you see three fish people making their entrance from the top of the staircase. 

You've had your share of encounters with fish people in the past, some more ... tolerable than the rest. In hindsight, there's no difference between the way you treat people; if they get on your nerves, you deal with them. If they don't, you leave them be.

Your instincts tell you that these people will fall into the former category.

However, you notice that the one with the sharp nose looks awfully familiar, but your temporary amnesia might have something to do with the alcohol circling in your veins. Still, it's not a face that's easy to forget.

A few people try to get up from their seats, but with a simple, "Sit down!", they comply.

You narrow your eyes at the spectacle but don't move to get away. As long as he doesn't bother you, there's no reason for you to get involved. Baratie's had worse customers before, so this is nothing new. Zeff'll handle it like he always does.

So, you continue with your drinks, already annoyed and in desperate need of the numbing sensation only the bottle can provide. Zeff appears to deal with it, and it doesn't pique your interest until the fish man proclaims: 

"Listen up! I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy."

Now this catches your attention mid-sip. 

You look at the particular fish man discreetly over your shoulder, your sobriety making a quick return once you discover that you do know of him. He's Arlong the Saw; a misanthrope who makes a living killing humans. 

"Arlong," he said moments ago to Zeff. "I own the East Blue."

You don't know why he's after Luffy, and quite frankly, you don't care. With your fucking luck, he's after the map, too. 

He can pretend to own the seas all he wants, but what matters to you is that he won't get to the boy, and it's something that Zeff seems on board with if his negotiation tactics mean anything.

So, in silence, you continue with your drinking, content with laying low until one of Arlong's henchmen - one with black hair tied up on each side of his head - appears at your side. 

He leers over your shoulder, the stench of seawater evading your nostrils, and reaches for one of your bottles.

"Hope you don't mind sharing," he chuckles, and for some reason, this gesture pisses you off.

You're not in the fucking mood.

Before his hand can as much as graze the bottle's fine surface, you grip the back of his shirt and all but fling him back from whence he came. The sound of a table breaking behind you interrupts the eerie quietness that's befallen the other patrons, and you get up from your seat to glare at the other fish people.

"Fucking get lost," your voice rings out like an ominous warning across the air of the establishment, rendering everyone mute. Well, everyone except for Arlong, who proceeds to laugh heartedly at the spectacle whereas his other henchman quickly moves to aid his fallen colleague.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" He stands up from the table, two sharp rows of teeth reflecting the light from the restaurant as he grins. "If it ain't the Beast of the East, in the flesh." He tilts his head to the side. "I was expecting someone ... younger."

"I'm retired."

"So I've heard, but someone else seems to think otherwise."

"Well, this 'someone else’ must’ve been mistaken."

"No, no," he wags his 'finger?'. "You see, he was quite adamant that you're back in business. If that is the case, I am owed tribute for the stunts you've pulled."

You quirk an eyebrow, so lowly that it hardly seems to move at all. "Tribute?"

"Half of whatever plunder you acquired during the years you were active," he waves his hand. "And half of what you've acquired as of late."

Capitalism, truly. Seems that not even fishmen can deny its pull.

Your answer is simple. 

"No."

Arlong's grin shapes into a snarl quite easily. "You may have the highest bounty, but it is still I who own the East Blue."

"The sea belongs to no one," you counter sharply. "Not me, and certainly not you."

It's clear that he perceives this as a slight in the highest degree if the downward tug of his lips serves as an indication. "Do you even know who I am?"

"I don't care who you are." Your fist clenches into a tight knot that almost draws blood as you stare him down from across the room; two beasts in their own respective ways. 

"I'm Arlong the Saw."

"More like Arlong the Nailfile." This earns you a growl you're not nearly sober enough to worry about. "Look, I don't care who you are, and I don't care why you're here. The point is, you're not wanted."

You glance over at Zeff. For once, in the time you've known him, he's cautious but allows you to get your words across.

Arlong does not share the same sentiments. "When I learned that Cross-Hairs was here, I expected a woman with fists of irons and eyes sharp as knives. However, all I seem to be presented with is an old captain who does not know how to hold her liquor. It's pathetic, even by human standards."

This time, you're not vocal about your rather ... brutally honest opinions about him. Without breaking eye contact, you reach for your bottle and take a hefty swing from it. It all goes down without pause, and once it's gone, you put it back with enough force to permanently dent the table. Zeff'll be pissed.

Arlong snorts at the display. "I'm not here for you specifically. The boy, Luffy, where is he?"

"Never heard of him,"

"I don't quite believe that."

"Not my problem."

Arlong tilts his head to the side, almost condescendingly. "My informant knows otherwise."

"Your informant seems to know a lot of things," you say, dangerously low. "If you tell me who they are, and I'll pay them a visit myself to set the record straight,"

He chuckles. "There's no need for a visit. He's already here, and he's famished." He snaps his jaws to a nearby table, scaring the patrons into fleeing. "But I don't need the meals from the menu to quench my hunger."

You glance over at the other patrons, seeing the fear in their eyes reflect the light above. You've seen it before; you used to see it back when you were still Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates. People used to quake at the sound of your footsteps, and whisper among themselves. in fear of evoking your wrath.

Back in the day, you lived up to your reputation. You didn't necessarily enjoy installing fear into people's hearts, but it was a means to an end. You were angry, and all that anger manifested itself in the way you acted as a captain. All that fighting, all that beating, all that rage.

Now, when you see the patrons acting like a herd of sheep, you can't help but feel like you're back there. But they're not afraid of you, not this time.

You look back at Arlong. "Find your meal someplace else."

He growls and steps closer. "I'm telling you this, Cross-Hairs, one beast to another. You may be strong, but we both know that you're not strong enough to take me on. Fish men are superior to humans in every single way. Stronger, faster, —"

He gets close enough to grab for your hand and lift it, his face a breath's width from your own. You can smell the stench of salt on him, of raw meat. "— Hungrier. Wouldn't you agree?"

In a flash, you grip your other hand around his wrist, fingers digging into his flesh until you can find the corners of his joints. You relish in the pained expression that crosses his face.

"You're not a beast," you say, not raising your voice a pitch. "You're vermin."

Arlong parts his jaws when the doors to the Baratie burst open. 

"Which one of you is Arlong?" 

You snap your attention to the top of the staircase, and your face drains. Fuck, it's Luffy. Why's he here?

"Who's asking?" Arlong asks, his grip around yours remains tight.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I hear you're looking for me."

Once Luffy descends the stairs, Arlong lets go of you and turns to face the younger opponent. You watch with mild impressiveness as Luffy faces the bigger fish man, and you have to grant him that, he doesn't exhibit an ounce of fear. 

"How'd you find me anyway?" Luffy finally asks.

Arlong snickers. "An old friend helped track you down."

Then, you watch as the big-lipped fish man pulls something out from his bag and it's ... and it's ...

"Heya, Straw Hat! Did you miss me?"

It's fucking Buggy!

Your heart skips several beats before it remembers to start pumping again. He's here. You thought Orange Town would be the last time you saw him, but he's really here. Truth be told, he looks worse for wear; his make-up is all smudged, a bruise forming on the right side of his cheek, and he's been dowsed in seawater.

But it's him. It's him.

Buggy's eyes glance over at you, and the smile that was previously there gets momentarily replaced with an expression you can't precisely pinpoint. "Hey, there," he says, surprisingly demure. "how's it going?" 

You're not nearly sober nor coherent enough to reply.

"Burpy?" Luffy asks surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Believe me it wasn't my first choice either, but these fine fishy folk persuaded me to point them in the right direction, which ain't easy when you don't have any hands."

"How'd you even know how to find me?"

"I told you, I got eyes and ears everywhere."

To your horror, you watch as an ear pulls itself out of Luffy's hat and attaches to the clown's head. That ear was there all along, which means ...

"You were listening all along?" Luffy cradles his hat. "You heard everything?"

Everything, you think to yourself as you feel the blood drain from your face. He heard everything, everything you'd said to Luffy, everything about your whereabouts. Every—

"Everything," Buggy answers. "And that got old quick, 'cause you shidiots got no idea what you're doing. Hey, Lips!" He turns his head sideways to face the fish man who's just returned from aiding his colleague. "How about a scratch behind the old ear, huh?"

"Sorry, honey."

You don't know what compels you, but something fierce does. An animalistic instinct settled in the marrow of your bones, rampant with rage and assertiveness. When the fish man grabs a hold of Buggy and puts him in the bag, you feel the need to get him out. Free him.

You were friends with him once, something even more from your side long ago, and you've tried to kill each other on at least one occasion. Still, that piece of you that remains in your youthhood demands that you get to him before anyone else.

The conversation that takes place between Luffy and Arlong doesn't register with your ears, as all you can focus on is him. Before you know it, the sound of gunshots echoes through the restaurant, and a fight erupts between Luffy's crew and Arlong's.

Truth be told, it all flashes in front of you like pictures from a movie you've seen. All you can recall, with the alcohol still flooding through your veins, is the feeling of flesh between your digits, the sound of cries and painful moans from Arlong's henchpeople as you force them to the side, and the pure adrenaline that muddles all your thoughts of ration.

Before Arlong can even hope to make a grasp at Luffy, you're there to deflect his claws with your wrist. The impact pushes his hand several inches away from your skin, and without a moment's notice, you strike him in the middle of his sternum.

He's knocked several feet back and into a nearby pillar, not enough to completely knock him out, but enough to keep him away if only for a few moments.

He laughs, his teeth bleeding from the gums. "The Beast of the East. I was wondering when I'd finally get to meet you."

You don't say a word, with the primitive instincts overwhelming your rational ones. In a second, you lunge for him, your hand aimed towards his head. Someone, most likely yourself, must have miscalculated because as much as you intend to hit him and maim him and strike him, the most prominent sense that strikes you is not the feeling of blood under your knuckles.

It's pain.

You're in pain.

Arlong manages to hit you with his clawed fingers. The sharp feeling of something piercing the side of your abdomen through your clothes causes an eerie feeling of hurt. You gasp and bend to your knees, clutching your side. Blood paints your palm as you withdraw it. You're bleeding. Fuck, you're actually bleeding. It's not a light cut either, it's several ones, an inch deep each, and they're bleeding profusely.

When was the last time you bled like this?

The collision between your head and something hard knocks you back before you can even hope to register your state properly. The floorboards leave stinging burns across your lower back until a pillar cushions your fall.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"A pity, truly." Arlong taunts, towering over you. "My informant seemed so confident in your skills. How disappointed he’ll be, seeing you crawl like a maggot on the floor."

You know this is a fight you cannot win, not as you are right now, but you don’t care. Pure spite motivates you to do your worst, even if it’s all for naught.

An act produced from pure adrenaline, you jump back to your feet and prepare to pounce at him. An outstretched hand — Luffy's — beat you to it and preoccupied the fish man in the nick of time. He's pulled away from your reach before you can hope to get him, and a familiar feeling of bloodlust in your veins awakens to life after its hibernation.

Hot, boiling.

You want to kill him. 

Maim him. 

Crush him until his bones break. 

Feel the warmth of his blood coat your fingers as you dig into his body, through veins and arteries and flesh. 

You want him dead.

Suddenly, you catch it from your peripheral vision. A bag on the floor that's currently being tossed back and forth amid all the fighting like a ball of yarn between two quarreling cats. A string of curses erupts from the fabric.

He's still here, you remember. Buggy is still here. 

You have the option to leave him at the mercy of the fight between the Straw Hats and Arlong, but something in your body won't let it. Call it instinct, call it sentiment, but you move towards it all the same. Before any man can even touch the surface of the bag, you lunge for it like a flash of light. 

Grabbing the top of the old fabric, you all but yank it from the floor and maintain him in the steady grip of both your hands. 

"Hey, hey!" the voice in the bag calls. "Keep me out of this!"

"Shut up!" You shout back.

The voice immediately quiets down. In the middle of the fight, while you cling to the bag like a sacred object, you can hear him call your name several times, though you don’t answer.

You cradle the bag in the crook of your elbow as someone — doesn’t matter who — kicks your ribs and sends you crashing into a nearby wall. The impact knocks the air out of your lungs and leaves you with stars at the corners of your vision, yet all you can seem to think is ‘keep .... safe, keep .... safe, KEEP .... SAFE’.

You cough several times, static noise filling your eardrums as you crawl back to your feet. The sensation of something warm dribbling down the side of your ribs strikes you, yet your only concern in the midst of the blood loss is to carry that damn bag to safety. 

It doesn’t make any sense. Luffy should be your only concern, but you can't find him, and the core of your being wants nothing more than to just get that bag the hell out of there. 

Why? you think to yourself in a haze, your breath becoming heavier. What’s in that bag again? Why does it mean so much?

You try to get up, but the weight of your body overwhelms you. You stumble and fall back to your knees, dizziness making everything hazy and disoriented, but pure spite motivates you to keep going. At least, it tries to, but sheer will cannot outweigh the body’s needs alone.

Someone calls your name, and as your cheek meets the floor, an image of blue hair invades your vision. Blue hair, soft promises, and tight embraces.

Then, there are scornful glares, a shove against your body, so firm and cold that it’s reminiscent of ice.

“I hate you,” a blurry voice says, so filled with resentment that it reminds you of a knife. “I wish we’d never even met. Go be with him if that’s what you fucking want. What do I care?”

It hurts. It hurts more than your ribs do. It hurts to listen to those words — that voice — as it reverberates through your skull. It hurts so fucking much that you don’t think you can survive it. You feel small, small and vulnerable; like a child stuck in a crowd of people they don't know.

“He- Hey! Are you there?” The same voice - deeper and darker now - calls desperately as darkness starts to cloud your vision. “Come on, get up!”

You can’t tell if this is a voice from inside your head or outside it, but you don’t fight it when the darkness decides to lay claim over you. The same voice calls your name urgently, time and time again, but you can't answer it.

———

Everything hurts. Your body, your arms, your legs, but most prominently, the right side of your body. It’s burning, stinging, fucking carving at you. Whatever you call it. It just hurts.

“You’re awake!”

You barely have time to open your eyes when a warm body presses itself against yours from above. A sting of pain from the side of your body immediately surges through your nerves and you hiss.

“Oh, sorry, sorry!”

When you finally do look up, you see Luffy sitting beside you, a concerned yet hopeful look in those round eyes of his. You blink at him, then shift your head around to see where you are. You’re in your cabin, a blanket pulled up to your midsection, with something wrapped tightly around your stomach under your shirt.

At first, you’re at a loss for thoughts, but it only takes you a moment for everything to fall back into place. You immediately sit up, only to regret it as the pain explodes once more from your wounds.

“Don’t move too much,” Luffy protests and puts a hand on your shoulder to guide you down, but you resist it.

“What happened?” you demand. “How long was I out for?”

“Only a few hours.” Luffy frowns and gestures to your side. “You were badly hurt and lost a bit of blood. Zeff looked over it and managed to stop the bleeding, but he said you’ll need stitches eventually.”

You stare at him for a few seconds before your gaze trails down to your side. Lifting your shirt far enough so that you can evaluate the damage. Crimson-stained bandages greet your vision, under which you can only guess Arlong left his mark. Several marks to be precise, if your memory holds any value.

It’s not the wound itself that fills you with shame, but it’s the fact that you let your own grievances put you and – to some extent – the crew in such a vulnerable position to begin with. 

If only you’d stopped feeling so sorry for yourself, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

“Luffy,” you say softly, not removing your focus from the bandages. “I’m … sorry.”

“For what?” he asks, completely confused.

“… I got distracted.” You slowly swing your feet to the edge of the hammock, the movements warranting more bouts of pain, yet you ignore it. “I … Let my guard down, and it put the crew in danger.”

“I don’t think so.” He says it so casually like he doesn’t find you at fault in the slightest. You don’t know whether deem his forgiving demeanor endearing or naïve to a fault. “You were sad.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything!” You jump to your feet while cradling your side. Luffy immediately comes to your side and offers you a shoulder to lean onto. “You could’ve been killed!”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “And so is Zoro! He’s alive!”

“That’s … good.” Relief floods your body.

“But Nami…” Luffy pauses as he helps you out of the room towards the kitchen. “She went with Arlong,”

You raise an eyebrow, not expecting this. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find her.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“Well …” he trails off sheepishly, and you’re immediately suspicious. 

It’s not until you finally reach the kitchen that you hear it.

“Hey! Look who it ... is ...”

It’s Buggy … 

His head is on top of the kitchen table. 

———

Taglist:

@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat , @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107 (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

[lussiane333]

The way you write art the clown is so perfect and it's sad there isn't that much content for him yet so thank you for doing god's work 😩 do you have any hc's of him receiving a lapdance from s/o?

Hello! Thank you for your kind words <3

This one took me some time.. 😅 Sorry for the wait, here it is!

I decided to do more slashers so:

Slashers receiving a lap dance from their S/O 🔥

Art the Clown

He's making facial expressions you've never seen before

We all know that our clown boy is a comedian..

He would take the hidden dollars out of his clown suit and tuck them behind your panties and grin like a madman he is

His eyes never left you, and the way you touched him, breathed against his lips and toyed with your underwear, his gaze seemed almost tender like

But when you knelt spread legged down on the floor and looked at him, he's gawking with an open mouth and dilated pupils

He would do anything for you, it's like you hypnotize him every time and deep down he hates it, but it just feels so good..

He wants to ruin you in his own fucked up way so yeah, get ready for a long night afterwards

Bo Sinclair

You want all of his attention and oh boy.. It's yours

The way you leant back on his lap and grinded against his bulge..

Yeah, he'd whip his cock out and jerk it shamelessly as you move your body against him

He's really into this, he loves watching you show off for him

You make him absolutely feral and he feels like a virgin seeing a woman's body for the first time, but he can't help himself

Don't get me wrong, he's really not seeing this for the first time, but he's seeing someone he loves and enjoys it so damn much

You went from between his thighs to sit on his lap, and groping, teasing and whispering nasty things in your ear quickly turned into you riding him in a reverse cowgirl

He has a secret erotic polaroid collection of you

He loves your body, your moves, everything about you makes him crazy

Charles Lee Ray

He would act indifferent at first

Yeah, yeah, you're hot but he has seen it many times before

Still likes it and won't keep his hands to himself, I mean you two love to put on any kind of a show

His biggest weakness is when you nib at his neck and run your nails down his chest, he's humming in approval, squeezing your ass harder

Praises and degrades you at the same time

"You really are the biggest whore I've ever seen"

"Come on baby, show me that I'm right, oh yes"

He wants you all to himself, but he also wants to show you off so he'd surely make you dance in front of a victim and be like:

"You see that? All mine"

"Show them exactly what they're missing on, baby"

His egoistic ass is so proud knowing that he has someone like you

[effy-writes]

HIIIII!!! SO I HAVE A REQ FOR A FIZZ X READER (you can add asmodeus too if you want) WHERE IN EP 6 READER GETS KIDNAPPED WITH BLITZ AND FIZZ :3

HIII SORRY THIS WAS PUBLISHED LATE IVE BEEN SUPER BUSY THE PAST COUPLE OF DAYS. and i didn’t know if you wanted the reader already be dating fizz or platonic or smth so i made it where fizz and the reader are best friends and they ended up confessing their feelings bc they thought they were gonna die at the end

and thank you for requesting! hope you enjoyed <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fizz x GN! Reader: Confessed

Ozzie knows that you and Fizz has been best friends since childhood, so he called you to go with Fizz to run some errands because he doesn’t want Fizz to go alone. Of course you said yes because you wanted to protect him, so you and Fizz were currently at the Greed ring.

“Fizz, you sure you wanna do that clown tryout thing? You know how Mammon is.”

“Ugh not you too. Did Ozzie tell you to come talk to me about it?”

“Well, maybe. But still, you look so stressed whenever you’re working with Mammon.”

“Don’t worry about me-”

He got interrupted by running into Blitz, like literally running into him. Since childhood you obviously hung out with Fizz way more than Blitz, (so of course, Blitz doesn’t like you as much. Well more like he doesn’t hate you as much as he hates Fizz).

“Oh, wow. Lookee who it is.” Fizz crossed his arms.

“Oh, fuck... You again...Y/n? You’re still hanging out with him?”

“I didn’t abandon him like the way you did.”

“I didn’t- you know what fuck it never mind.”

“Stalkin' me now, huh?” Fizz replied to Blitz.

“Oh, don't fuckin' flatter yourself, clown. I have my own life, y'know, without YOU in it.”

“Uh huh, sure! Blitzo.”

“The "O" is silent now, bitch! And gee whiz, we've been in each other's relative vicinity TWICE, in the last FIFTEEN YEARS! That would make me, THE SHITTIEST STALKER IN HISTORY!”

“Twice... IS ALREADY WAY TOO MUCH.”

You watched as the two bicker at each other. You were about to say something to cut this interaction off but all of a sudden the three of you were touching bodies. And in a blink of an eye immediately got slammed against the wall. The wall slamming knocked the wind out of you.

“Funny to run into ya again, "Blitzy!"” Striker laughed as he pulls out his knife and slides toward Fizzarolli, pointing it under the chin. “And with a famous friend...” Striker looked at you and tilted his head, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second!”

“Oh, fuck me.” Blitz groaned.

“For the record, we are not friends.” Fizz announced.

One thing led to another. Crimson tied up the 3 of you, and put duct tape on Fizz’s mouth. You tried to break out of the ropes to protect Fizz but it was no use. Since you kept making a lot of noise Striker put duct tape over your mouth while Crimson was leaving a prerecorded message.

You realized that Crimson was going to send the video to Ozzie. Does Ozzie know that I’m here with him? Fuck..he’s going to be so pissed that I let this happened.

After the message, Striker ripped off the duct tape of your mouths and threw the three of you into a cage. Fizz stammers in fear while Blitz scoots back. You got closer to Fizz, trying to calm him down since he’s a little claustrophobic.

“Oh, chill out, jester. Christ on a stick, it's like you've never been tied up before!”

“Sure, but not by a bunch of psychos! And a piece of shit!”

“Am I...? Okay, am I the psycho or the piece of shit?”

“Both!”

“Yeah, that checks.”

“Instead of yelling at each other we need to find a way to break out!” You whispered.

“Y/n why are you with him anyway?” Blitz jabbed.

“We’re best friends.” You shrugged.

“And Fizz still didnt ask you out?

Fizz gulped, completely discarding this topic, “Ohh, playin' that card, huh? Ok... What about you? Seems your tastes have gotten more... "regal", lately. Heheh...”

“Yeah, well unlike you, I fuck who I want, when I want. I'm not gonna be tied down to some big blue-blood asshole.”

“You could've fooled me the way Princey was cozying up to you at Ozzie's.”

“Wait, you were at Ozzie’s? And on a date with the prince?” You interjected.

“Hey! Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress, it's nothing... y'know...It's nothing else...”

“Then why were you even there?” Fizz questioned.

“OTHER very important reasons, of course!”

You tried to wiggle yourself out of the ropes while in the midst of Blitz and Fizz arguing yet again. Hearing the way Fizz spoke about Ozzie made you have a pain in your gut.

Striker interrupted the discourse that was happening, and then proceeded to say all of the things wrong with the taboo relationships that Fizz and Blitz had with royal blue bloods. Obviously Fizz got defensive, which made Striker threaten him.

“Leave him alone!” You yelled out.

Striker glared at you and let go of Fizz, “Looks like you want him, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I see the way your face changed from pissed off to sadness once jester over here started talking about his boy toy.” Striker grinned sinisterly.

You glanced over at Fizz who had wide eyes, “No, I’m just sad because I have to be locked up in a cage with people who won’t stop fighting.” You said as a matter of fact.

Striker shook the cage before jumping down from it. You looked back at Fizz and softly smiled, not knowing on what to say without expressing your feelings for him.

You stayed silent as Blitz was finally able to get you and Fizz out of the cage, but once you guys all fell out and was met face to face with mafia members things got serious.

You and Fizz made a run for it while Blitz was fighting them off. “We have to help him.”

“What? No!”

“Fizz please. If we don’t we might die.”

Fizz didn’t want to help the person that stabbed him in the back, but he did wanted you to live. “Fine.”

And with that you and Fizz tried to kill off as many members as possible. Fizz doesn’t know how to fight, but you do know some fighting moves.

“What the fuck, Fizz?! How is someone this flexible, this useless in combat?! At least Y/n knows how to fight.”

“I’m a performer! I don’t do danger!”

With a few of the demons out for the count, Blitz, Fizz and you made a run for it.

“Well good to know you're still a wimpy circus puss that needs Y/n to protect you, sounds like you’re using them!”

“Where did you get that from!” Fizz yelled.

“Because ever since we were little they had to protect you! Especially after that accident!”

“AN ACCIDENT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

“Guys we seriously need to stop arguing we HAVE to focus getting out of here!” You yelled.

“You didnt even sound grateful that Y/n was with you! And you were the one who wanted them and not me!” Blitz shot the mafia number that was coming from behind.

“I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING ABOUT ME NOT WANTING YOU TO SEE ME! I WANTED YOU TO.” Fizz huffed, “I wanted my best friends to see me.”

All three of you guys had a look of realization. “Ohhhh.”

“Look, Misunderstanding or no, it's hard to just forgive you. It's been fifteen years and... That's so much time... But! I guess you didn't really ruin my life.”

“What, you're telling me getting blown up didn't ruin your life?”

“It was painful... and challenging, and y'know FUCK YOU STILL, BUT... It's not like I'm broken. And I now have someone who understands me and...” Fizz looks at you and softly smiled.

Blitz looked at you too, “Where were you in the fire?”

“I was with Fizz. He uh…pushed me out the way and he got blown up instead of me.“

Striker snuck up on you guys and got a hold of you three, “You been a pain in my ass long enough, Blitz. NOW, I'm gon' break you like a FUCKIN' HORSE!”

“Ohh don’t you dare talk sexy to me!”

“You're still on the horse thing?!” The two of you said.

Striker and the goons cornered you guys even more. “Fizz! Remember how you used to distract my dad so I could steal his booze?”

“I mean, yeah? Why?”

“Yeah well, I need to get up to that window there to bust us out.”

“Ohohooo! One distraction, comin' up!”

The moment Fizz started to perform you helped Blitz break out.

“Since when did you become a personal body guard for Fizz?”

“Since he saved me from that fire. I feel like I owe it to him.” You replied as you and Blitz created a tower of boxes to get to the window.

“I didn’t mean to blow him up, Y/n. I’m sorry that I did and it WAS an accident!”

“I know, I believe you. Don’t worry about it, okay? He’s doing good.”

Blitz used a blow torch to open the window. “I’m sorry I didn’t even try to contact you either. I was just..I don’t know.”

“Dude it’s okay. Stop apologizing- You just fucking dropped the blow torched.” You deadpanned.

“Fuck! Okay uh..give me those extremely convenient bombs.”

You turned around and saw them. “Oh, would you look at that.”

You guys set them around the window and took some steps back before pushing the trigger, making the window explode into a massive hole.

Fizz stretches up and allowed Blitz on his back while using his other mechanic arm to hold you and swung you guys out of the warehouse.

The whole building caved in as you three made a run for it while laughing. Your hand was still in Fizz’s, and since he can’t feel you assume he doesn’t know you guys are holding hands.

In the midst of you guys talking Striker grabbed the two of you. You stomped on his foot, but instead of him letting go you and Fizz, he only let go of you, making you drop and before you could get up and stepped on your neck, cutting off air flow.

“Y/n!” Fizz shouted.

“I'm THROUGH losin' these fights! This worthless little pet REEKS of his over-bloated master... I'll at least enjoy gettin' rid of 'im.”

Blitz sweats a little, then finally shooting the gas tanks, making them explode. Striker scurries away and the moment he did Fizz helped you up while you gasp for air.

“Are you okay!?”

You looked at your surrounding areas, flames all around you two. “Fizz! We’re going to catch on fire!” You screamed out.

Fizz tried using his mechanical hand to reach out to get you two away but it malfunction. “Fuck!”

“Fizz, I always had feelings for you since we were little and I really wished I said something before we die.”

Fizz saw Blitz hop onto a crane and hold his hand out to grab you guys. “We’re not going to die I promise, here hold on to me.”

You held onto Fizz as blitz swung you guys out of the fire and onto a safe area.

“YOU BLEW US UP AGAIN YOU PRICK!” Fizz yelled.

“I know. But this time I stuck around.” Blitz saw that you guys were still holding hands, “And I overheard Y/n express their feelings for you because they thought you guys were gonna die. So uh, congratulations! If I didn’t try to blow you guys up then Y/n wouldn’t have confessed SO, yall welcome.”

“Fuck you.” You and Fizz said in unison.

~~

Before you and Fizz met face to face with Ozzie, he wanted to talk to you. “I-”

You interrupted, “It’s okay if you don’t have feelings for me. I understand and it was very impulsive for me to say that. I know you and Ozzie-”

“We’re polyamorous. I want you in our relationship.”

“But what about Ozzie?”

“He won’t mind, in fact he’s always been telling me to invite you joining us because he knows I’ve had feelings for you since we were little.”

You smile out of relief and wrapped your arms around him to pull him into a kiss. “What are we going to say to Ozzie?”

“We’ll walk up in there and just tell him we’re in a relationship.”

“Are you sure he won’t mind?”

“Y/n,” Fizz placed his forehead onto yours so he could feel you, “Today he told me to ask you out. Everytime we hang out one on one he’s always telling me this. I’m just glad you were the one to say it first because I do NOT have the guts.”

“In my defense I thought we were gonna die, so if it wasn’t for Blitz we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” You kissed Fizz, “I love you Fizz, I really do.”

“I love you too.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Our Lost Girl, Our Babydoll - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O

Summary: A bookshop and a spilled coffee leads you to Clint. He leads you to Natasha, and you lead them both to your best friend Darcy. They try to introduce you to Bucky and Steve but you're full of excuses and Irish goodbyes. Until Bucky catches your scent on Natasha and he's sliding in your DM's and offering to help pack up Darcy's apartment. Steve wants to give their bookworm the world and your Irish goodbyes won't slip passed him, because his eyes never leave you. But what's giving you the lost look in your eyes?

Chapter Summary: Why is the reader late? And what is girl talk?

Bucky and Steve scrambled, knocking into each other as they tried to get to the door first. The noise alerted the others to the scuffling.

“It’s the coffees you idiots.” Natasha called from the now open door. "You would have smelt if it was her."

Clint sniggered as he went to help Nat, passing out the coffees as he returned.

“You know I thought it was just Clint that went to clown school.” Sassed Sam.

“Hahahahaha.” Bucky replied dryly.

“Oh leave them, it’s sweet how excited they are.” Came Maria’s reply.

“See.” Steve said looking at Bucky knowingly.

“She said sweet, not cute.” Bucky grumbled, as he perched on Darcy’s couch, pulling a danish from the bag that had been placed on the coffee table. Sam went to deliver another quip but Steve shook his head, noticing Bucky’s sulking.

“Don’t worry Yasha, she’ll be here soon.” Nat added, glancing at her phone. Darcy glanced over to look and then showed Nat something on her phone.

“To be fair it’s not like her to be late. Is she OK?” Maria asked.

Before there was chance to answer Steve and Bucky jumped to their feet, startling the others and started to dust themselves free of crumbs. Steve searched his pockets for a mint, wanting to avoid coffee breath and Bucky ran his fingers through his hair. Darcy decided to take the opportunity to tease them.

“You ok their fellas or did my best friend just walk up the street?”

There was laughter around the room as Nat stood, grabbing your Strawberry Frappe, a danish and a napkin.

“Wait, where are you going?” Asked Steve.

“Girl talk. Stay.” Replied Natasha, exchanging a quick glance with Maria, who nodded quickly.

“We aren’t dogs.” Grumbled Bucky.

“No, you’re over excited alphas.” She replied, pulling Darcy through the door and closing it quickly.

Bucky huffed and threw himself onto the sofa dramatically. The group tried to stifle their laughter. Clint struggled the most and let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, I know, I know, I’m over excited blah blah blah.” Complained Bucky.

“That’s not why I’m laughing actually, Nat was worse than you. She changed outfits four times, brought three different bouquets of flowers and ordered six different blankets. Y/N had to tell her to and I quote ‘calm the fuck down, you look like you’re about to hump her’. To be fair Darcy looked hot. I struggled and I just had my beta urges to contend with.”

“Yeah but at least you got a date, all we’ve got is avoidance.” Grumbled Bucky, “Steve stop staring at the door, she’s not gonna magic through it.”

Steve was now the one to huff.

“What exactly is ‘girl talk’ anyway?” He asked, as they all turned to look at Maria.

As you neared Darcy’s building you got a whiff of Steve, closely followed by what you now knew to be Bucky. You saw the main door to the apartment open and panicked for a second, worried it was them. Realising their scents were still a bit of a distance away you sniffed and got a whiff of your best friend and soon to be mate, spotting them both soon after.

You quickly brushed the tears from your face and took a deep breath. Time for the ‘I’m fine’ face.

“Heyyyyy, it’s moving day! I’m so sorry I’m late, my appointment ran over, I’m here now and I have everything” you kept your voice light, tapping your bag. Darcy barrelled into you, hugging you tightly.

“Why were you at the doctors?”

“What, errrr I wasn’t, it was an eyebrow appointment.”

Darcy pushed your hair away to look at your eyebrows and shook her head disappointingly.

“When did we start lying to each other?”

“Fuck” you muttered, “how’d you know?”

“First, we went three days ago to get them done together, remember, AND Natasha tracked your phone.”

“For fuck sake Romanoff!!!” You snapped as you shot a look at her, as she hovered a few steps behind Darcy.

“I have a danish and your awful pink drink.” Nat replied, holding them out.

You side stepped Darcy and grabbed your drink and danish from Nat’s hands, letting out a huff as you sat on the building steps.

Darcy quietly followed and sat beside you, brushing your hair away from your face again, this time spotting the tear marks on your cheeks. Nat sat a few steps back, observing you both.

“I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. It was a checkup.”

“On a Saturday?”

“Specialist clinic, runs twice a month, this was the only slot, I’ve been waiting three months. I’m sorry I was late, they were running behind and then I couldn’t get an Uber and then there’s an accident a few blocks down, I walked the rest, I’m sorry.” You went to stand but Darcy grabbed at you.

“What’s going on?”

“Darcy this is your day, you don’t need to hear my bullshit.”

“Yes, I do, you always hear my crap and I wanna hear yours. What is it? Is it your suppressants? Shit, is it suppressants sickness?”

You sighed.

“A little, my body it’s, well it’s not exactly happy about being on them so long and”

“And?”

“And…… I want a baby."

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

Tag list

@shellybellysstuff

[ghostfaceprincess]

Them Cooking For You For The First Time:

-

TW: Language.

-

Michael Myers:

• I mean… he really did try.

• Surprisingly decent, it’s just a little burnt.

• He decided on steak and mashed potatoes.

• Hey, he’s proud of himself. 🤷🏻‍♀️

-

Freddy Krueger:

• Used his glove to cut up everything; and I do mean everything. The meat, the veggies, etc.

• He decided on chicken pasta with salad as a side.

• The pasta is cooked perfectly.

• He pairs it with a nice wine. 10/10.

-

Jason Voorhees:

• He… tried.

• It’s supposed to be spaghetti…

• Hey, the garlic bread is good though!

• Maybe you should do all the cooking and he’ll do the dishes.

-

Billy Loomis:

• He surprised you! The food is so good!

• He made chicken with mac and cheese, corn bread, and green beans.

• He did not make dessert though.

• He was hoping you could be dessert. 😏

-

Stu Macher:

• THIS MAN CAN COOK IDC WHAT ANYBODY HAS TO SAY

• A full meal plus dessert.

• Everything is cooked and seasoned perfectly.

• Yes, you heard me, s e a s o n e d.

-

Charles Lee Ray:

• He gave up before he even started.

• He ordered Chinese takeout and then plated it.

• He also paired it with beer.

• He didn’t think about dessert.

-

Tiffany Valentine:

• Oh, she went all out!

• She made you like four different meals and desserts to go with them.

• “I just wanted you to have options.” What a cutie!

• “The rest can just be meal prep!”

-

Bubba Sawyer:

• He made you the beeeeeest fucking soup you’ve ever had. Well, it’s more like a gumbo, but still.

• He made dessert as well; just classic chocolate chip cookies.

• He did ask his brothers for help.

• He smiles proudly as he presents it to you.

-

Thomas Hewitt:

• Did everything all on his own.

• Made ribs with fries.

• Literal 10/10.

• He knows how to add some flavor!

-

Art the Clown:

• Cook?

• Yeah, no. He gets take out and does not try to take credit for it.

• He does plate it very nicely though.

• Pats your head as he hands you your plate.

-

The Creeper:

• He let you pick what he made.

• And he did it perfectly too!

• There’s so much seasoning and flavor.

• Though, he can’t perfect all meals. Just this one and a few others.

-

Thanks for reading! 🦇🖤

[signedkoko]

HII I have been reading your writing for a while now and I lOVE IT! I've been waiting to put in a req when they got open sooo! (Your writing always makes me hAPPYY when they come out) <33 Any chance of an Overlord!GN reader with Mammon / Striker? Just general romantic Headcannons- Like how it is to date them/everyday stuff with them (The reader is always serious (and tall 👀) and owns a big casino in pride (Maybe Mammon taking interest in it? idk))

Mammon | Striker [Romantic]

In which you are their overlord s/o that owns the largest casino in the pride ring. Reader is genderneutral.

The guy looks like a total clown next to you

And he is, but he loses any sense of danger when he's standing next to you, who happens to be just a few inches taller than him

Your cold sneer next to that goofy grin, like he knows he's totally lucked out having such a hottie for an s/o

To many in the greed ring, he was the greediest of all, but when they came up top to the sinners realm and met some of the overlords that roamed the lands, they started to realize that yeah, maybe Mammon wasn't so bad

While Mammon used to attract many fans, ever since you two became an item, they've stayed far, far away

At first, he hated it because it meant he couldn't scam some pathetic sinners

But you had the idea that he could come by your casino for official meet and greets; that way, people would pay the entrance fee for you and him for just fucking around in a casino all day

Mammon is actually kind of an airhead at times

He isn't stupid, but he isn't all there, especially when with you; he just turns his brain off and lets you do the thinking

You're better at it anyways

During extermination, you can't go down and be safe with him; he will often come up just to ensure your safety

Sure, you seem scarier, but that's only because he is in his smaller form

You two are a literal power couple; you could take over all of hell if you tried hard enough

Striker always preferred to stay away from the pride ring

Sinners were such a hassle, especially keeping up with the overlords and what they considered 'theirs'

In fact, he'd stay in wrath all the time if he could, but business always called for his presence in the upper ring

He isn't stupid enough to fall into the grip of an overlord-run casino, but more than one of his targets did

Your security caught him more than once sneaking angelic weapons into your casino

The third time it happened was enough, and you came forward yourself to speak to the man

He was charming and convincing, but you weren't one to let things slide so easily

You promised he could do whatever he liked with your occupants, given that he gets their casino dues in

And well, for how much he was paid, that wasn't too terrible a deal

The two of you ended up a bit more than intertwined, though, and the assassin managed to worm his way into your heart

And god, was it ever a sight

One of the oldest overlords that towered over anyone that came before them, with a face like a funeral, next to an imp

An imp no one really knew, either

At the end of the day, the only people who dared question you were other overlords, but they tended to leave their noses out of others business, respectfully or not

While you could defend yourself rather well, Striker is more than happy to handle anyone who dares try to touch you

Interrogations are useful, you know; that way, he can kill off the whole chain of command

He's very romantic and gentlemanly with you, even if you don't ask for such from him

Don't think your position of power will ever make him feel like he is the lesser; he will take good care of you no matter who you are

Author's Note - Thank you so much for requesting, I'm glad you got a chance! It was a nice break going back to some Helluva Boss characters (not that I hate writing hazbin, but it was a lot of requests).

[gaymurdersalad]

Hey Jack! I think Dave is.. looking for you. You should probably check on him-

>Looking for me?

>The bastard practically wanted me dead on Monday when I refused his little kid-killing scheme. Straight up left the restaurant and didn’t show his face again, he was so mad.

>Why in the hell would he suddenly be looking for me?

>Even if he was, I wouldn’t know the first place to fucking—

>Mmmmyyy body lies overrr the ocean, my boooody lies over the seaaaaa—

>I’mmm no gooood at astraaaaal projectionnnn, so brrriiiing back my bodddyyyyy to meeeee!

>Oh, holy fuck, I’vvvve nevvvver felt ssssooooooo… Un-Coporeal. Wuwuuuuugghh, what issss… Within it me is outside o’ me… And whaasss inside of mmmmeeeee is SOOOOOOOO much LSD.

>Hooooow’d I even ennnndup here? What the hell did you get yourself int’, you big clown? I’m not surrrre, I just woke up out hereeee, again… What would Henry think? Who cares! He hates mmmmeeee!! He pushed me aside he did, he did! How’d he do that, then? He says “Get ouuuuutta here, you purple menace you, and leave me the hell alone for as long as your pitiful life stays clinging to this wretched Earth!” Why’d he say such a thing? I duunnoooooo! Was it something you did? You’re always getting yourself into trouble, you. Please leaaaave me alone, leave me to rot here, you… Yew… Schtewpid bastard, you caaaan’t stop bothering me, both you AND him…

>I’ve never done nothing to warrant this! I’m yer friend, Davey! Yer nothin’ but some bassard keepin’ me angry, you rotten fuck you, I wish you’d both fuck off hand ‘n hand and go… Go stuff yourselves in a waterlogged springlock suit, fuck you!

>A VISSSSITOR. Who— Who arrives?!

>… Dave?

>Sportsy! Old Jack! Whateerrr yoooouuu doin’ here?! You smell different. Yer wearin’ that coat!

>… Jesus Christ, dude. I’ve never seen you this bad.

>Aannnnnd I’ve never seen yew so good lookin’, handsome.

>Alright… Let’s… Let’s get you up, it’s freezing out here, man.

>Ohhhh, yer sooooo warm, Sportsy… I juuuusssss wanna crawl inside yer skinnn and wear ya as a jacket… Heh! Jack-et!

>… Thank… You…? I’m going to ignore you for a bit, is that alright dude?

>Yew can do whateeeeeever yew want, cowboy, I juss love ya soooo much…

>We’re gonna go back to my place, okay buddy? Get you under some covers and make sure you don’t accidentally… Hurt yourself. Let you sit the rest of this out someplace comfortable.

>Yer… Yer takin’ care of me, baby?

>Only ‘cause I know you won’t remember it.

>Yer… Yer sucha nice boy, sucha sweet sweet tangerine, you…

>Y’know, I wus… I’ve been… feeling preeeety rancid lately, Sportsy. Henry… Kicked me to the curb again, said I don’t wantcha here, and I wus… wanted… spend time with ya, Sportsy, like old times, I wanted t’… I missed… yew. ‘Nd yer dumb stupid clementine face, that schtewpid beard— If… If Henry don’t want me, then I know… I wus always thinking, I thought— Sportsy’s there! There’ll alllllways be Sportsy! B— Because there ain’t Sportsy, it’s just me, and just me makes me wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die when yer holdin’ me.

>I’m… It’s pretty fuckin’ radical… that yew still care. Still the… same rotten orange I knew and loved.

>…

>… I…

>I still care. It’s okay.

>It is?

>It’s okay.

>… Let’s… Get you home. Try and relax, we’re only a block away from my car. You can sleep when we’re on the road.

>Gnnaaaaarly… Road trip with Old Sport!

>Yeah, man, sure. Gnarly.

[eldritch-spouse]

Trying to hang out and catch up with your demon girlfriends, but the owner of the ice cream place you go to keeps butting into your conversation.

" Oh God, he's coming this way again, isn't he? " You murmur, having avoided eye contact with the weird glutton just in that nick of time where it wouldn't be seen as rude.

One of your friends snorts, then harshly elbows the succubus next to her. " Go on, get him busy. We need to have a talk. "

" Owwie... Okay, you owe me. " The mid-ranker in question groans, then gets up with a big bright smile befitting of a model. She puffs her cheeks and adjusts her sizeable breasts behind her scant dress before getting up and immediately making a b-line for Berle. You would feel bad for her, if not for the fact that you know she truly enjoys being a nuisance whenever possible.

" That should buy us time. " The demoness twice your size chuffs. She claps a hand on your shoulder and practically drags you forward on the table. " Listen up pipsqueak, you know who that is? "

" Well, I- " You stammer. " I know he's kind of a celebrity around here... "

" Kind of?! " The smaller of your friend hisses like you've disappointed her. " That right there is Vorticia's youngest son! "

Your eyes widen like dinner plates. " The Queen Vorticia's son? "

" ... 'S kinda cute he has a puppy crush on you. " The sloth currently busy with a bowl of chocolate ice cream mumbles.

" Cute?! " The tallest one growls. " No way! Having royalty after you is fucked up, man! "

She blinks, that poor brain trying to catch up. " H- Huh? Whaddya mean? "

" Think about it, idiot. Infernal royalty aren't people you simply refuse. Take our King for example, everyone's shaking in their boots wondering if a war will start with every minor disagreement... "

Your hands shake slightly on the table. " But- But that's madness. Why would he want anything with me? I'm not even... I'm just a nobody. "

" Yeah right?! So what the fuck does he want to do with you- " You know better than to answer when she pokes her big index against your chest. " Nothing good, that's what! "

" O- Okay. " She's your friend, you trust her judgement about demon royalty.

" You need to show him you're not here to be fucked with! Harden up, do a bitch face, like this- " She puffs like a wild boar and makes a truly terrifying snarl of an expression, gums showing and eyes blazing with malice. It makes you shudder.

In turn, you can only weirdly strain a grimace. It makes you feel like a clown, and judging by her cheeks now puffing with laughter, it's not working very well. " Pfff- Okay, gonna need some work, but I'm confident. Maybe. "

She's swatted by the tiny woman next to you. " You think that's going to stop him, seriously? What we need is strategy. She's hopeless on her own! "

" Thanks- "

" Oh yeah?! What's your big idea? "

" Guys- " The sloth tries to speak around a mouthful of chocolate. " We all took the cockblock oath, chill. "

A chorus of "We did"s follows.

" Right? So, let's just keep being cockblockers. "

" What- To a prince?! I know she's a demon magnet, but come on, even we have limits! "

" Well- I think we're doing okay so far. " She points a spoonful of ice cream out into the distance.

Your succubus friend is firmly wrapped around Berle, one hand toying with his right horn and the other insistently trying to weasel under his apron while she talks his ears off and the young glutton tries desperately to keep up. He looks frantic, glancing around frequently as if having lost track of something.

Your wrathful friend forces your chin her way before your eyes can meet the prince's again.

" You're never coming here without us all, okay? "