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aekatty · 6 months ago

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𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓮 ᯓᡣ𐭩

kiss below the line…

a/n: i hate him but at the same i ain’t mind letting him tap 😋 also using colored panels for now cause it’s cuter tee hee

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: p in v sex, oral sex, afab!reader, reader lowk a top here but sanji gets a tad bit of confidence towards the end, sanji know how to eat that kitty 🙏, reader a FREAK, call this man sanji freaksmoke ong 💀🙏, reader wears a bikini, no set arc, risky public sex, they fuck in a secluded area but still open to public, porn WITH plot

tags ✮⋆˙ smut, afab!reader x sanji, beach date, p in v bby, no set arc - no spoilers

now playing: dive - victoria monét

After a long strenuous journey of hopping from island to island, you suggested the crew stop at a tropical resort for a few days to rest and gather supplies for the Sunny. Liberating islands from tyrannical rule and going against from oppressive government is tiring…Well guess what? It’s time the Strawhats get a well deserved break!

“Hmm, yea sure,” your rubber captain shrugged.

“Wow, you didn’t really think that through did ya, Luffy?”

“No, you’re right. After a long battle, I’m pretty beat plus…”

“Plus?”

“A seafood boil sounds nice,” he laughed as he rubbed his rumbling belly.

Robin chuckled at Luffy’s expression, “Well, since us devil fruit power users can’t swim in the water, I wouldn’t mind indulging in a nice seafood feast cooked by our skillful chef.”

You suddenly see the pervy chef’s nose start to heave heavily, a few drops of blood trickling down his chin, “OF COURSE, ANYTHING FOR THE BEAUTIFUL LADIES OF OUR SHIP!”

His stance takes a 180 as he faces the men of the crew, “The men have to hunt for their own food.”

Zoro looks at him with annoyance, ��Hey! Can I at least get some sake?!”

Luffy pouts, “No fair! I want to relax like the girls too!”

“Well, real men hunt for their own food!”

You sighed, “Sanji, relax, the guys worked hard at the last island. Cut ‘em some slack will ya?”

His demeanor changed as soon as you spoke, “OH MY DEAR, [NAME], YOU ARE SO RIGHT.”

“Alright, fine, since we’re going to have a seafood boil, I gotta gather some ingredients.”

“A spectacular feast created by our lovely cook, my mouth is watering just thinking about it, if I had any saliva…YOHOHOHO!”

“Then, it’s settled! Nami, set course for [insert cool island here]!”

“Right away, captain!” The beautiful tangerine-haired girl yelled back.

————

The summer sun shone upon the golden sand, the crystal blue water crashing upon the shore as the coconut trees swayed to the calming wind. The resort is occupied by many beach goers as children ran along the hot sand with beach balls, men clinked their beers, and ladies were served fancy mojitos. The smell of grilled meat lingered the air as barbecue parties took place nearby.

You reveled in the moment until hearing your captain’s booming voice destroy your peace of mind.

“WOOHOO!”

“LUFFY, DON’T GO IN THE WATER, YOU CAN’T-”

The rubber boy struggled to keep afloat in the water has he gargled for help, “HELP! HELP!”

“swim…” You facepalmed.

“I got it…” The green haired swordsman immediately dived into the water before rescuing your struggling captain.

“Captain, be more careful, will ya?”

He coughed up seawater, “Bleghhh, Zoro, I might throw up on you…”

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!”

You decided to sit with the girls when the blonde cook approached all of you. He sported black swimtrunks, along with a half-opened tropical shirt while holding a tray full of orange cocktails, “Well, ladies, can I interest ya’ll in some ‘Sex on the Beach’ drinks to quench your thirst?”

The black-haired vixen smiled, “Thanks, Sanji. You really know how to read our minds.”

“Wow, these look refreshing, as expected from our cook!” Nami took a sip of the alcoholic drink.

“No kidding, I was starting to feel a bit parched myself,” you smiled.

Sanji covered his nose to prevent a nose bleed from coming out, “Ladies, Ladies, no need to thank me. Just doing my job.” He smiled to himself as he replayed the compliments in his head.

You looked at him with concern, “Hey, Sanji. How’s ingredient gathering going for ya?”

“Huh? Oh, I’ve been trying to catch some fish and crab for the last 30 minutes but I think the amount of people here are scaring them away.”

“Hmm, hey! I can help you look for a secluded spot for fishing!” You cheerfully suggested to him.

“Oh, I can’t let a lovely lady like you get up and help me out like this!”

You chuckled, “No worries, I’d rather walk around then sit down doing nothing.”

“Well…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have extra help.”

————

You sealed the bucket full of prawns before setting it aside and sitting down on the dampening sand, “Wow, we caught a lot today! We’re gonna be eating tonight, aren’t we?” You looked at the remaining gold rays of light slowly disappear in beyond the horizon.

He laughed at your amusement, “I should start cooking soon if we’re gonna serve this on time for the crew to start feasting.”

You attempted to carry the heavy bucket of freshly caught prawns, but it proved to be difficult with the sandy environment preventing better movement in your legs.

He noticed your struggle with the filled container, “Need any help?” He walked towards your sinking figure in the moist sand, lantern in hand to illuminate the darkened atmosphere.

“Ah, no, no! It’s ok!”

“Come on, [Name]. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, really, I can manage-”

“I’ll just grab this part-”

“Sanji! It’s gonna-“

Splash

“…fall,” your once dried figures now soaked with sea water as both of you guys fell backwards into the incoming waves — his trembling body loomed over yours, salty droplets falling onto your face.

The sound of your increasing heart beat pounding in your ears from the closed distances between your bodies. Your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his toned abs up close to your face, despite the evening darkness sweeping in to mask the dimming sunset.

You were embarrassed to admit it, but you always had a slight interest in the blonde cook. Sure, you were a little annoyed by his flirtatious attempts and his slightly pervy behavior — yet, in his times of seriousness that complimented his cool, stoic character, it was��quite attractive.

The amount of times you caught yourself staring at him as he cooked the crew’s meals with rolled-up sleeves, or chilling on the ship while lighting the butt of his cigarette. You had to resist the urge to bite your lip then and there.

But, seeing him on top of you while half naked and wet took the final slice of the cake.

“O-oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should’ve listened to you-” The blood rushed to his cheeks and ears to form an embarrassed blush before lifting himself off you.

“Hot damn….” You muttered to yourself.

“Uh…what?”

“Um- Uh, nothing,” you shot him a sheepish smile before lifting yourself up. “It’s all good, I should’ve just accepted your help,” you laugh awkwardly as you drag the fallen bucket.

“Ahem, that would’ve been awkward if anyone in the crew saw us,” he brushed his hand through his blonde locks before searching his pockets for his cigarette box.

You suddenly halt your process of dragging the prawn bucket, an invisible lightbulb lighting upon your head. You turn to the chef before smirking at him,“I wouldn’t mind giving them a show.”

You could practically see his eyes bulging out of his sockets at your flirtatious manner. Who knew the pervy cook would get nervous by one of the only girls in the Strawhats? You wanted to take advantage of this sudden burst of confidence…

You walked up to him, his face producing a red hue on his cheeks as he watched your figure close the proximity between you two. His heartbeat increased at the sight of your practically bikini-clad body swaying in the moonlight. He clutched the cigarette between his teeth…

You look up at his flustered face before stealing the lit cigarette from his lips, a seductive tone poisoned your words, “Can we stay here for a bit?”

The nervous cook gulped, “U-Uh um…why?”

He watched as you took a drag out of his own cigarette before putting it out — He never found anything so sexy in his life; not even when he saw a naked Nami back in Alabasta before.

You harshly pushed his toned figure onto the dry sand before noticing the now obvious bulge in his pants. You were quite pleased by the outcome of this situation as you watched the cook fall to his knees for you — he relished in the sight of you using him. It was kind of different from the way you seen him with other girls. Slowly, you hovered over his body; his eyes glued onto your bikini-covered chest as he felt his mouth become dry.

“I think you know the answer, Sanji…”

————

A needy moan escaped from the cook’s mouth as you caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongue ravaging with his as you grinded your clothed heat on his crotch. His body had become so turned-on from your sudden dominant nature, your touches like a tempting devil.

“[Name]…fuck,” his hands moved to your hips as you continued dry humping his erection.

You caught his lower lip between your teeth, “You’re so fucking sexy when you say my name like that, wanna scream it more for me?” You watched his body shutter as you exchanged the movement of your hips with your rubbing over his hardened bulge.

“A-ah shit, mon chérie, quit teasing me…”

You bit your lip as you continued your edge on his clothed cock, ignoring his pleas for your pussy. You relished in the sight of the blonde begging for your attention. You rubbed his erection in a faster pace, grabbing the outline of his size — he groaned at your intense touch.

A sly smirk creeped onto your face as you guided his hand under your skimpy bikini top, his hand instinctively squeezing the soft mound of flesh, brushing over your now hardened nipple. A soft moan left your mouth as you felt his rough hand roll the pearl between his fingers. You slapped his hand away with a smirk on your face.

You slowly shoved two fingers into his mouth, feeling the warmth of his tongue sucking and licking them, “Wanna show me what that mouth can do?”

You remove your bikini bottom, revealing the transparent slick trail of your arousal connecting from your pussy to the dampened cloth. You toss it to the side before hovering your crotch over his flustered face.

You harshly grabbed his face, “Make me cum and maybe I’ll give ya a reward.”

“…Yes, ma’am…”

You cautiously lowered your hips onto his face before you felt strong hands hastily grab your hips and slam you down. A yelp came out of you at the sudden pressure of your crotch rubbing on his face.

The warmness of his tongue desperately overlapping over your needy hole as you bit your lip to conceal the sounds of your impending pleasure. The sound of the crashing salt water colliding with the sand had become quieter as the sun died down and the moonlight became brighter.

The sound of sloppy wetness overtaking your hearing as he fucked his tongue inside you. You face twisting from the overbearing sensation of pleasure took over your body as you grinded your cunt further into his face, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit, the smell of your arousal radiating off your warm body.

He lapped his tongue over your erected bud as sucked you off like a starved man. He groaned as he pulled your hips harder onto his face with need, his grip tightening around you. — He became obsessed with the taste of you and he was wanting more.

He slid his hands over the fleshy mounds of your ass before spreading them apart for better access. The speed of his tongue fastening had jolted the nerves of your body, your back arching from the overstimulation on your abused clit.

“S-Sanji! Oh god, keep going!” You cried out in pleasure. The moist sounds of his mouth connected with your saliva-coated cunt.

“Mmm’ Mon chérie, cum on my face,” he groaned as he swiped his tongue over your pulsating hole.

Your core tightened as you felt your approaching climax form into a pit in your stomach, “Then, you better savor it while you can, Blondie.”

He swore he could’ve felt his cock twitch in his swim trunks at the sound of his nickname slipping from your lips. God, the things you do to him…

You swayed your hips to the movement of his hungry tongue as the muscles of your increasingly tightening before you felt the imaginary coil unravel and relax. Your milky liquid leaking out your pulsating hole, smothering over the cook’s face.

He released the suction of mouth over your erected bud with the sound of a pop. His chin had been covered in his own saliva and your arousal. He huffed and puffed as he caught his breath. The taste of your cum lingered as on his lips as he licked them without shame.

“Good boy, I think it’s time I give you your reward,”you shifted your body off his face, the feeling of the cold grainy sand resting below your knees as you lowered your face over his crotch.

A surprised moan escaped the cook’s tainted lips as you pressed light kissed over his erection, the taste of ocean salt overtaking your taste buds. You could practically feel his wanting cock straining along the restraints of his wet as it ached for your touch.

You grabbed the hem of his trunks, peeling the fabric to reveal his touch-starved cock — it had a slight curve to it, the circumcised tip supporting a swollen redness as it leaked precum, his shaft with a few veins trailing down to his nicely-groomed happy trail of blonde hair surrounding it, his balls desperately awaiting to be emptied from all the edging you did to him.

“Nice cock, dude.”

“Haha, very funny, [Name],” he sarcastically rolled his eyes.

“I’m being serious, Sanji,” you swipe your index finger over the dripping slit of his tip.

A grunt escaped his lips as you flicked his sensitive cock in a teasing manner; Your hand running down his shaft before slowly fisting his cock in your hand. That fucking smug smirk painted on your face that drove him insane the entire time.

Your hand moved up and down faster as you watched his face twist from pleasure, his body jerking from the sudden jolts of electricity running in his body from your touch — You swiped your tongue over the flushed head, savoring the taste of the transparent liquid as you continued your pace on his shaft. A sharp hiss escaped through his teeth as you rubbed and squeezed his sensitive balls in the process; god, he was about to burst then and there.

He gripped the sand below him as you brought him to the edge of his orgasm, you enjoyed the amount of overstimulation you brought to his cute face as his curly brows scrunched together in pleasure. You bit your lip as you felt his cock twitch in your hand before-

“Sanjiiiii! [Name]! Where are you?? I’m hungry!!” You hear Luffy’s voice in the distance.

The cook looked back at you in horror, in fear that both of you guys were about to get caught by your captain. Luckily, you were out of sight from your rubber captain due to the steep rock wall that separated you and Sanji from him. You shot him a devious look as you continued your movement on his needy cock, “Gonna answer?”

Oh, fuck you.

“W-We’re still busy fishing so g-go away!” He yelled back with nervousness.

He bit the inside of his cheek as you engorged his cock into your mouth, the salty taste of his precum filling your taste buds as you slobbered over the tip and shaft.

“Well, hurry up already!!” the hurried tone of your captain’s voice echoing in the distance.

The cook groaned in annoyance, “SH- SHUT UP AND BE PATIENT OR ELSE ITS VEGETARIAN FROM NOW O-ON!!!”

“AGHH FINEEEE…”

A small snort escaped through your nose as you heard their short banter. Sanji was such a cutie patootie when he got mad at the crew you thought to yourself.

That’s probably why you enjoy seeing the cook moaned and whimpered as he submitted to your touch, wanting more of your attention from you. <3

He felt as if he could cum to the vibrations of your gagging alone as you struggled to swallow his cock whole, hitting the gag reflex that sat in the back of your throat. What didn’t help was when you caressed his swollen balls, squeezing them as if they were putty in your hands. They tensed at your touch as they added onto the ongoing stimulation on his messy cock.

He bit his lip while grabbing tufts of your hair as he felt the euphoric climax slowly creep towards his tip as you continued sucking him like a summertime popsicle.

Just when he was about to release his seed, you halted your action; releasing his cock with a pop as it bounced towards his abdomen. His cock twitched with impatience as it awaited more of your stimulation. The tip redder than before as it begged to release its seed.

He huffed, “Mon chérie…wha… what are you doing?”

You hovered over him before whispering in his ear, “I’m gonna ride you, that’s what i’m gonna do.” You bit his ear before aligning yourself over his cock.

You slammed on his cock, causing both of ya’ll to gasp in pleasure as you felt the gumminess of your walls swallow his size. He grabbed the fat of your ass as you bucked your hips up and down.

“Oh god! Oh yes!” You cried out as you felt him match his hip movements with yours.

Your pussy was practically a perfect mold for him as you sought to reach that euphoric feeling of edging to your arrival. You became obsessed with the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix as each thrust became deeper and rougher. You swore you saw a tear well up in his ducts as you watched his face become a moaning mess.

“Hah, oh fuck! K-Keep going at this speed, I might cum inside you…” He squeezed your ass harder as he kissed and sucked the skin on your collar bone.

“S-Sanji- hah!” You felt his lips lick the soft flesh of your chest as he moved his hands towards the underside of the fabric triangles, pushing them upwards to reveal the dark pearls of your cherries.

“Sanji!” You screamed his name as you felt the warm sensation of his tongue lap over your erected nipples. Now you’re the one being a victim to overstimulation.

He groaned as he made out with your right nipple while pinching your left one, the friction leaving you speechless as you were left in a moaning mess. He clenched your the soft mound as he felt your moist walls squeeze around his cock.

“You’ve been teasing me this whole time, I couldn’t help but retaliate…” He left your right boob with purple marks around your now tender nipples. He shifted his attention towards your left boob as he sucked and bit your dark pearl, enough to send electricity towards your pussy.

“Mmm’ you taste so divine, Mon chérie…This is way better than some seafood boil.” He loved the way you clenched on his cock as he sucked your sensitive nipple.

No amount of crashing ocean waves nor the sound of seagulls squawking under the illuminated night sky could muffle out the sounds of sloppy slaps and moans of the heated moment you both shared. You cried out his name in hiccups as he continued the movement of his hips guiding his cock towards your cervix, increasing his speed.

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji…i’m gonna cum!” You were going dizzy at his hypnotizing movements.

“Fuck, me too…Can I cum on that pretty face of yours, Mon chérie?”

You nodded as you felt that familiar tightening feeling in your abdomen of your impending orgasm had . The thought of releasing on his cock was racing in your mind as you wanted to savor the sensation the next time you had the “urge.”

You gripped his shoulders as you arched your back to the ripping feeling of your toe-curling release, a cry for pleasure escaped your lips as you felt your abused walls clench around him. — thick, white…it poured from your used hole as it coated on his twitching member, waiting to come as well.

He groaned at the sight of his cock being covered in your slick, like a used sex toy. He fisted his cock, your cum serving as lubrication to relieve himself.

He chanted your name in mutters as he took in the sight of your fucked-out face, sporting a tomato red and a trail of saliva dripping down your chin as you huffed and puffed for air. His hand instinctively stroked faster as the aftermath of your face around him even more. He let out a groan as he felt the nerves in his shaft jolt as ropes of hot cum spurt from his reddened tip.

You smirked as you watched the white fluid land on your face along with your hickey-covered chest. You didn’t want to lie when you felt surprised by how much spilled out of him—embarrassing amount continued to drip onto the sand from his now sensitive cock.

You bit your lip, “Didn’t tell me you had that much in ya.”

His face became flushed, “It’s not my fault, I was pent up from how much you edged me today!”

“You’re really hot when you’re hard at work, I couldn’t help seeing you in such a submissive state,” you stuck your tongue at him.

His heart skipped a beat at your embarrassing words, “MY LOVE, I’LL LET YOU DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY.”

And…he’s back to his usual self.

The chef’s ears perk up as he hears rustling from the nearby coconut trees. You noticed his reaction before your attention redirected towards the origin of the sound.

“What the hell, where am I?

The mosshead looked towards your direction as he noticed the two figures in the distance, immediately recognizing the both of you.

Both you and Sanjj’s mouth dropped open before you guys scrambled on the sandy floor, readjusting your swimsuits and jumping in the cold salty waters to wash off the evidence. In the back of your mind, you wanted to cry of embarrassment; the thrill of almost getting caught was exhilarating itself. However, getting caught a a different story.

“Go away, moss head! We’re trying to fish in peace over here!” The blonde cook yelled at the swordsman.

Zoro smirked, “You sure this is fishing, cause last time I checked, you’re supposed to have your clothes on.”

Both you and Sanji looked at each other with an embarrassed blush on your face before quickly diverting your faces knowing the opposite direction.

“Zoro, you can’t tell anyone…” You softly pleaded.

The swordsman yawned, “I don’t really care, I was tryna find curly brow since Luffy was getting antsy about the food.”

“Oh and I was wondering where you kept the sake.”

The cook facepalmed himself, “You fucking drunk…it’s in the wine cabinet now go away.”

The swordsman yawned again, “Wow, thanks I guess. I’ll let yall do your thing but hurry up cause the captain looks like he’s about to munch on our emergency food (chopper).”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll get started once [Name] and I bring our shellfish catch back to the ship.”

You sighed in annoyance, “Let’s just get out of here.”

As the three of you walked back, the little devil on your shoulder caused you to land a nice smack on Sanji’s ass. He turned around with surprised look on his face while rubbing the impacted area. You shot a smug smirk at the cook before doing the “p in v” gesture with your fingers.

He smirked before giving you a wink. You quietly giggled before whispering in his ear, “Let’s do this again, but more private.

#one piece #fanfic #smut #one piece smut #oneshot #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji smut #one piece fanfiction

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mostlymihawk · 4 months ago

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Marriage Ceremony!

Prompt: Zoro, Mihawk, Cabaji, Shanks, and Nami x GN reader getting married and what the ceremony would look like.

CW: None.

Zoro:

Literally does not care.

At all.

"All we need is a piece of paper. Just make sure we get that."

You decide you want to do something based on his culture, though.

The only thing he insists on is a picture of Kuina at the ceremony.

Everything else is all up to you.

...It does make planning a frustrating experience because he literally. Does. Not. Care.

Day of, though, he looks very happy.

Wearing the swords, of course. Yet another reminder of Kuina.

You also get to meet his sensei, which is an impactful experience.

Mihawk:

Also insists he literally does not care.

The difference is he's lying through his teeth and just doesn't know it.

Cares so much.

The moment anything ceremony-related is in front of him he's got Opinions.

"I would not be caught dead with those flowers and those champagne glasses in the same room. One of them has to go."

Also wants you to have everything you desire.

To a fault.

Won't buy those candles because they're cute, but definitely not worth that much and the seller is clearly jacking the price up because it's Mihawk and he's rich?

Guess which candles show up at the ceremony.

Insists on the hat, but you insist he wear a shirt during the ceremony.

You win some, you lose some.

Cabaji:

Wants a fairly traditional wedding, which is surprising.

As much as Buggy uses the word 'freaks' affectionately, he still wants to be normal at least once.

Also an absolute sap about the marriage.

Biggest princess you've ever met, dewy-eyes and all.

"I can't wait until the day I vow to spend the rest of my life with you."

This man shows up in his best tux.

It's so not the norm for him that you genuinely don't recognize him.

And then you realize that you do recognize the guests in attendance, just not in plain formal attire and without copious amounts of makeup.

That's Buggy in the back.

When it's time for him to kiss you, he kisses you with a gentle reverence you've never felt from him before.

It's such a shock you pass out and wake up on the floor a minute later with a teary-eyed, smiling Cabaji cradling you in his arms.

Shanks:

Pirate wedding. You knew it would be.

Shanks isn't much for lavish ceremonies, and you just accepted it.

That said, when the day comes, the crew have all washed their clothes and the entire ship is immaculate.

There are even flowers and lights.

Oh, and Benn got a certificate to officiate weddings on their last port day.

How???

"I wanted it to be perfect for you."

He says it like that explains how they set this all up without waking you.

It doesn't???

You never let it go, and he never explains.

Nami:

Privately, you had initially been less-than-enthused with the idea of going to Coco Village for the wedding.

It meant the world to Nami, so you wouldn't say no, but...small town wedding wasn't what you'd call picture-perfect.

When it all comes together, though, it's gorgeous.

So much better than anything you would have ever planned.

The tangerine orchard in the background, the sunset...it's better than perfect.

Sanji plans the menu and trains the staff, so the food is delicious.

Nami doesn't cry the whole ceremony, but when you pull about twenty different strings to present her with a picture of Bellemere at the end she's a mess.

"I love you. I love you so much."

#zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #cabaji x reader #shanks x reader #nami x reader #don't ask me where Cabaji came from it just happened

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winterchimez · 11 months ago

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i need everyone to know. that i have been going through a really bad hakkie phase throughout sixth sense and this is my breaking point actually 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

for @winterchimez 💕

#the boyz #tbz #ju haknyeon #my jeju tangerine boy 🍊#mutuals! <3 #elena 👙#LOOK AT HIM LIKE #HELLO????#THE SILVER HAIR????#THE GLASSES?!!#THE FIT?????#THAT FREAKING SMILE IM WKTMFBNRNR #I WANT HIM I NEED HIM

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teaboot · 10 months ago

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If you could pick 2 to 5 current animals to make a hybrid, what would you pick?

I would do platypus for most of the body, raven for wings and intelligence, peacock for coloring, and pigs for the noises because pig snorts make me laugh.

Asks are supposed to be fun, if you don't want to answer or take a while to answer that is perfectly fine. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I have been thinking about this ALL DAY

My ideal animal to play God at making would HAVE TO BE:

Soft. Ideally pettable. Furry, but not like. Bristly or oily

Not stinky. Dogs always smell like foot, I'm sorry

Affectionate, but not clingy

Character-ful. Imperfect. TOO cute or sweet and we get into uncomfortable uncanny Valley territory.

Self-sufficient. Will it survive in it's natural habitat? Can it protect itself from stupid people? Needs some form of self-defense.

NOW, given these criteria I have chosen THESE CREACHURS :

MOLE

Mole fur sticks directly up from its body to minimize friction when digging forwards OR backwards. With the fur of the mole, THIS CREACHUR is PETTABLE IN ALL DIRECTIONS.

2. CRESTED AUKLET

For some godforsaken reason, the crested anklet is a bird which releases the smell of SWEET TANGERINES, a scent which I am personally fond of. THIS CREACHUR smells DELIGHTFUL.

3. DOMESTIC CAT

THIS CREACHUR is AFFECTIONATE TOWARDS HUMANS, but not so much that it's constantly trying to crawl up your ass. IDEAL SOCIAL COMPANION

4. SILKY ANTEATER

The silky anteater, like the platypus, is a SLIGHTLY FUCKED LITTLE GUY. Look at him. He's adorable, but not saccharine. He's approachable. Believable. Somewhat muppet-like. A real down-to-earth guy. An everyman sort of freak. A friend.

5. EMPEROR SCORPION

One of the more chill scorpions, the Emperor Scorpion is MILDLY VENOMOUS. By which I mean, like. Bee sting-level. You probably won't let your toddler goof around with one, but you could still feasibly keep one as a pet. THIS CREACHUR is SECURE

TO CONCLUDE:

We are looking at an affectionate, roughly kitten-sized animal with a cat's temperament and the fur of a mole, which smells of citrus fruits, is shaped like a silky anteater, and is able to deliver a first-painful, then mostly-just-itchy sting when threatened. Artist's render pending

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amywritesthings · 3 months ago

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seven days. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: armin arlert x gn!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: Armin gets bamboozled into joining the annual Yeager family beach vacation — and accidentally meets you.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), beach house, summer vacation, eventual romance, alcohol, partying, Armin deserves a romcom, Eren & Zeke have zero braincells Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. | masterlist

“Zeke, you Point Break bitch, did you steal my boogie board?!”

Ah, yes.

If he was looking for a week of tranquility and peace, then Armin Arlert should have declined the invitation to join the Yeager family for their annual summer vacation.

Time and time again, Eren has begged his best friend to tag along.

As far as he's aware, this has been a family tradition ever since his best friend was a toddler.

One week, the same week, every single year.

Not to mention it's the same beach house merely two blocks away from the boardwalk and sandy shores.

Home away from home.

It’ll be amazing!

(Eren likes to claim.)

There is so much sick shit we can do!

(His words, not Armin’s.)

You’re gonna sit on your ass and read anyway, so why not do it by a beach?

(...okay, maybe that sold him.)

Then again, nothing is more humbling than standing with your duffle bag in one hand, filled to the brim with ‘maybe’ shirts and ‘just in case’ medicines, and your pillow in another while the Yeager family chaotically dissolves into a panicked army of four battling to even get to said beach in one piece.

Chaos.

It’s their collective middle name.

“Armin, sweetie, do you want any snacks for the road?”

Carla Yeager — doting mother figure and matriarch of the family.

She’s the reason they’re taking two cars this year, too afraid she may forget something important at home.

From fresh tangerines to a plethora of board games, she’s thought of it all.

Shuffling his bag to give his hands some equal soreness — ouch, that's freaking heavy — Armin offers an apologetic smile.

“No, Mrs. Yeager, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“How many times do I need to tell you to call me Carla?”

Every time, actually.

Although Zeke very easily calls his stepmother by her first name, Armin can't bring himself to do it.

Blah, blah, raised a certain way by his ever-traditional grandfather, blah.

The awkward blonde merely nods once and watches as Carla shuffles by to throw another box of napkins into the trunk.

“Here,” she gestures, waving her arms while she’s in front of the hatchback, “that looks bulky.”

It is, but he’s a kindred spirit in the name of overpacking.

“I can find a spot for it,” he promises, but relents when the woman gives him that mom look that straightens out her son and stepson. “I— Thank you, Mrs. — Carla.”

Close enough.

He hands her his duffle bag, careful to spot the bottom of it in a sneaky attempt to help her ease his luggage into the first car.

Boom.

The front door bursts open to reveal Zeke and Eren, shoulder to shoulder, frantically fighting to see who can walk out first.

Grunting, Zeke tries to push ahead with his neon-green boogie board against his torso, but Eren manages to dip at the hip and rush down the steps.

The momentum nearly knocks Zeke’s oval glasses off the bridge of his nose.

“Could you be normal for two seconds?” the blonde groans.

Eren merely answers by sticking his tongue out and holds up a hand, wiggling his thumb and pinkie back and forth. “Fucking loser.”

Carla immediately glares. “Eren, language.”

“Forking, sorry, forking,” Eren corrects with little remorse.

“Seriously?” Zeke laments as he walks by, squinting at his brother. “What are you, ten?”

“Zeke,” a voice chastises softly from the garage. "Be nice to your brother."

Grisha Yeager, father of the year, rolls out a large cooler to bring it towards the second yet-to-be-filled car.

He’s wearing a Margaritavilla button-down, his long hair tied similar to Eren’s. On his forehead is a tie-dye headband.

“We'll be within close quarters of one another for seven whole days," Grisha reminds in that airy tone of his. "We should hold off on the in-fighting until day four at the very least.”

"I'll give it until day three," Zeke mumbles under his breath as he passes by, shoving his boogie board into the first car and smushing Armin's duffle bag down to half its size.

Yeah.

This is what it’s like to vacation with the Yeagers.

Except when your grandfather gets a new girlfriend, and they go to Key West for the summer, you’re stuck without being able to say no to your best friend’s family.

Seven days.

He can handle the Yeagers for seven days.

— —

It took less than three hours for Armin's pale skin to burn like an overcooked egg.

“It’s really not that bad,” chimes in Eren, mouth occupied by the hair tie between his teeth.

Invading his pessimistic mirror space, the taller brunette dips to look at himself while fixing his staple half-up bun hairdo.

The shorter blonde frowns even further as he checks out his tomato-red shoulders, standing shirtless and shoeless in front of him.

“It looks pretty bad, Eren.”

“Nah. Just slap some aloe on it, alright?”

Ruffling sounds behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, a bag of potato chips flies into view as Eren carelessly rips it from the cardboard variety pack — courtesy of the emergency snack stash in the corner of the room.

(The emergency snacks are, quote: So that bitch-ass Zeke doesn't steal the goods.)

The sun-kissed boy walks barefoot to the edge of the twin bed and flops down.

Right.

He forgot to mention he’s sharing a room with Eren, which only makes matters forty times worse.

Two twin beds with doily-esque blankets and flat pillows.

Thank god Armin had the sense to pack his own.

“Besides, the alcohol will make it feel better," Eren adds, chewing on a potato chip.

With a noise of defiance, Armin turns from the mirror to stare at his best friend.

“You do realize alcohol dehydrates a person, right?”

“So?”

“So—” Armin protests tightly, “—it’ll make it worse.”

Eren pops another chip in his mouth, shaking his head.

“Nah.”

Eloquent as always.

Groaning, he slowly — agonizingly — pulls his pastel blue polo over his aching shoulders and breathes out through his nose.

That SPF 50 was supposed to work, but he must have lost track of time binge-reading his first book of the trip.

A spy thriller, actually, that fell flat right around chapter three and nosedived bad just at the cusp of act three.

The wildly out-of-left-field twist made him so mad that he missed his alarm to reapply another coat of sunscreen, and—

Well.

As a result, human lobster is now on the menu tonight.

Regardless, he promised to go out.

It isn't ideal, but a promise is a promise.

About ten or so blocks away from the beach house is the coveted spot known as The Point.

From what he could gather from Google, The Point is a tiki bar boasting high-top bar tables nestled in sand, recreational volleyball courts, and live music all week long.

It’s about the only lively place in this rather family-friendly beach town.

While not technically a dry town, bars are few and far between and there are approximately a whopping zero nighttime entertainment venues, so The Point was about as wild as any college kid stuck on vacation was going to get.

Earlier, Eren spent most of the car ride to the house hyping it up.

Zeke, in surprising fashion, seemed to hold the same sentiment.

(It’s probably the only thing the brothers could agree upon.)

Plus, Zeke apparently had some surfer friends he’d met online that were going on the first night of vacation, so that solidified the night’s plans.

After showering, dressing, and having family dinner with the parents, it's go time.

A little past nine at night, the three boys walk on the sidewalk in a triangle unit, with Armin trailing behind.

Ever a wallflower he keeps quiet, observing carefully as the two brothers figure out their game plan.

Zeke is anti-shots.

Eren wants shots or nothing at all.

“We’re on vacation, why the fuck wouldn’t you do shots?”

“Because,” Zeke explains, “if you start with shots, then you’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“Yeah, if you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Eren, you just turned twenty-one.”

Eren’s nostrils flare. “So?! I had plenty of practice at university!”

“Is he a lightweight, Arlert?”

Wait.

What?

Oh, shit, they’re including him.

“Be honest,” Zeke adds over his shoulder.

Like a deer in headlights, Armin blinks between the brothers. “Uh… sometimes?”

“What?!”

The yell out of his best friend is piercing.

“You goddamn turncoat!”

“You’re not exactly somebody with an iron stomach, Eren,” the blonde reminds softly as if calming a petulant child, only to wince when he's met with a look of pure anger. “But that isn't to say you can't hold a shot down.”

“Or five,” Eren challenges.

“Three at best,” Armin relents.

“Three and a half.”

Armin squints as they turn the corner leading towards the entrance of the bar.

“In what world does half a shot cou—”

“Wait!”

Eren yelps, holding out an arm to stop Zeke in his tracks.

Armin subsequently also stops — as does his wearing patience.

“I have a solution.”

Zeke pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And what’s that?”

“Look at me, dude.”

The boy with the man bun demands attention, using his pointer and middle finger to gesture between him and his half-brother.

“You know what I’m thinking. Give it nine seconds.”

Right.

Not ten, because Eren’s favorite number is arbitrarily nine.

Zeke squints with about as much confusion as Armin’s feeling, but Armin knows by now how this is going to go.

Although they’re born with two different mothers, they’re eerily in sync with one another when they want to be extra annoying.

Some kind of Yeager sixth sense tying them together; they fall silent, staring—

Then the thought strikes.

Like two brain cells clicking together, they simultaneously grin at one another.

“Jagerbombs.”

Great.

So even worse than a shot or a beer.

That’s all it takes for the two to become best buds as they stroll into the tiki bar like they own the place.

The blonde and brunette zero in on an open spot at one of the several pop-up bar locations at this venue—

—leaving Armin in the dust to fumble out his I.D. to the bouncer.

It's nothing new.

Cover charge? Paid.

Hand stamp? Accomplished.

Careful not to get any sand in his sneakers, Armin treads carefully across the uneven landscape towards the same lively bar as his best friend.

Music thumps right into his ribcage.

Flashing lights threaten to blind him if he so much as looks over his shoulder to the west.

It’s more than he’s used to.

More than he wants, really.

(What happened to the leisure part of vacation again?)

“We got you one!”

Eren.

Blinking back into his body, Armin glances at the shot glass filled to the brim of Jagermeister waggled in his face. Immediately responding with a grimace, he steps back.

“No, I’ll just grab myself a drink, alright? You two enjoy — that.”

“What?” Eren’s frown is immediate. “Seriously? How else are you gonna get wasted with us?”

I’m not, is what he’d like to argue, but he knows Eren by now.

“What do you mean us?” Arnin shouts over the music. “I don’t see Zeke!”

“He got a text from one of his dumbass surfer bros and ditched,” Eren answers, “but to be perfectly honest, I’m thinking of playing the field tonight.”

“The what?”

“The field!”

“Eren, it’s really hard to hear you when they won’t stop mixing Pitbull with ABBA!”

“What?!”

Oh, this is impossible.

He raises his hands to gently push the shot glass towards his best friend’s chest.

“You take it and show Zeke you can handle it!” Armin calls back at the top of his lungs, his shaggy blonde hair waving in the wind as he nods with encouragement.

That: giving Eren a challenge.

(Works like a charm.)

Determination spreads across his face. Eren nods, hyping himself up for a double-fisted success story.

Armin simply nods, too, using the chameleon effect to build up Eren’s trust.

(Maybe he shouldn’t be using his psychology notes against his best friend, but desperate times call for desperate measures.)

“Yeah!”

Eren shouts while dropping the shot into the energy drink left perspiring on the bar top.

“I’m gonna!”

“Okay!”

“And then I’m gonna talk to a girl! Or a guy! Or someone!”

Armin’s eyes shoot wide with surprise, but he chooses not to rain on his best friend’s parade because Eren is already chugging the drink, spilling a little of the Jagerbomb down his oversized black tee.

(Good call, wearing dark colors, unlike Armin’s poorly planned pastel.)

Slamming it down on the bar top with a howl of victory, he pats Armin on the arm and trudges forward to the dance floor to do…

Well, that’s between the power of Charli xcx and God.

“Oh, Eren,” Armin mumbles, watching the little man bun bounce in time with the beat of the music until it’s consumed by dancing bodies.

Turning back to the bartenders, the blonde debates.

Agonizes, really.

He doesn’t drink very often.

It’s not really his thing.

But… when on vacation, right?

(Alone, apparently, since Zeke isn’t coming back anytime soon and he’s going to need to deal with dragging Eren’s drunk ass home in the next two hours.)

“Vodka soda, please,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

The bartender behind the counter nods his way before pulling out a plastic cup.

Within a few seconds the simple alcoholic beverage is concocted, and he leaves a reluctant ten-dollar bill on the sliver of the bar that isn’t covered in condensation or sloshed liquor.

He reaches—

Oh.

That’s not a cup.

Freezing in his place, his blue eyes zero in on a pair of fingers entwined with his, nestled on the very same cup.

He can feel them tense under his own slender digits.

Dread. Pure, existential dread.

Apologize, apologize—

“Shit—”

“I’m so—”

“Sorry!”

A stranger’s voice yelps with his in unison.

Before he can move, their hand rips away from his, leaving his fingers to meet with the cold plastic.

His neck cranes to his left and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

You.

Blinking several times to get his wits about him, he can feel his mouth growing dry.

The way the blinking lights illuminate off of your face completely force his train of thought off the damn tracks.

Flickers of blues, greens, pinks — they compliment your face so nicely as each shade seems to highlight another feature that he hadn’t noticed a second before.

He shouldn’t stare, but he can’t help it: you’re drop dead gorgeous.

“It’s okay,” Armin breathes out after holding his breath for some time. “That was my bad. I didn’t see you.”

Your eyes are just as wide as his. “No! No, it was my fault. I thought that was my drink.”

“What did you order?”

“Uh, a hard seltzer? I think?” you answer, scrunching your nose as you respond.

Mayday.

That’s a type of adorable he is not equipped to handle in his sunburnt state.

“You think?” he repeats with a small chuckle.

You move your head side to side, tilting with an uncommitted air about it.

“It’s bubbling, right? Means I’m on the right carbonated track.”

“Yeah, but don’t hard seltzers usually come in cans?”

“Not always at this place,” you correct, before pushing the cup towards him. “I also kind of panicked when I ordered, so sorry for almost being a drink stealer.”

“Trust me, I know a thing or two about panic ordering,” Armin admits with a huff, taking the cup into his hands.

“Yeah?”

You give a carefree laugh that causes his stomach to give an Olympian-grade somersault.

“Is that why you got a vodka soda?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“We’ve all been there,” you empathize, briefly pouting your lower lip. “I won’t judge.”

He’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with this (see: at all) but that doesn’t mean Armin is going to waste his opportunity.

He may be a wallflower, but he’s equal parts an opportunist.

“So you’ve been here before?” he tries instead, hoping you don’t suddenly snatch your seltzer can and walk away.

You do get your seltzer from the same bartender — a slender aluminum can, nothing fancy — but you don’t walk away.

The opposite: you angle towards him.

Shit, okay.

He can do this.

“My friends love this place,” you tell him over the music. He finds himself leaning closer, angling his chin down, so he can hear you better. “So I just tagged along to make sure no one got black-out drunk or made out with anyone weird.”

“A noble effort,” Armin teases, and your eyes sparkle with amusement. “My friends dragged me here, too.”

“Dragged?” you catch with a growing smirk as you take a sip. “I said I tagged, not dragged.”

“Oh.”

Idiot.

Recover.

“I mean, it wasn't — yeah, no, I was definitely dragged here,” Armin confesses, sipping his vodka soda for some liquid courage.

No use in lying to seem cool.

That facade would crumble like a house of cards.

“Partying at The Point not your scene?” you ask without judgment laced in your tone.

Armin nods. “I could be sitting on the balcony reading right now.”

Your brows slide high with intrigue. "Reading?"

Yeah, he should have expected a reaction like that.

The blonde shuffles, shrugging his shoulders.

"I know, lame."

"I don't think it's lame at all," you answer instantly.

His eyes widen. "I— no?"

"Uh, no," you snort. "If I had a choice, I'd probably be doing the same thing."

Oh, shit.

Oh... shit.

So he's not lame, and he found a possible fellow bookworm.

Armin sips his drink so fast that a little dribbles out the corner of his mouth.

Liquid courage; he needs it, badly.

"If you could be home right now instead of here, what would you be reading?" he decides to ask, knowing it's the most unsexy question he could offer.

You scrunch your nose again, seriously contemplating the question while bobbing your head to the music.

"I brought maybe two books? I should have brought more."

He nods eagerly, his blue eyes round with interest.

"I have a romance that takes place in the summer — I know. Very on the nose," you relent with a small huff. "And, uh, this thriller? But I'm not crazy about it, so I'm mostly reading the romance book on the beach."

"I brought a thriller, too," he admits. "Bounty Run."

"Shut up, you too?"

"Huh?"

You laugh, and it's a melody that makes the music at this venue pale in comparison.

"I literally bought Bounty Run last month and never got around to it until now! It's so bad!"

To whatever deity is smiling upon him today, Armin has to thank them.

Not only has he met someone who likes reading, but they think Bounty Run sucks.

Maybe he's hallucinating from the burn screaming through his polo right now.

"It's really bad," he agrees breathlessly with a chuckle.

"Like dogshit terrible!"

"I know. What the hell was Tracy thinking in chapter six?"

"Oh my god, when she decided to call the hostage guy?"

"Yes!"

"Like, I'm pretty sure that's not how those situations work."

"Not even close."

You both laugh, and all Armin Arlert wants is to know every miniscule thought of yours.

What other books you may have read.

If you have any recommendations.

If you're single.

Nope.

No.

He's not Eren Yeager.

He is not his best friend—

"Are you from here?" you ask over the music, breaking his panicked train of thought.

Armin swallows more alcohol, shaking his head. "No, we're not locals. We're just vacationing."

"So are we!"

"With your friends?"

"My friend's family," you correct, leaning closer to stop shouting so loudly.

He can feel his blood pressure spike exponentially.

"I'm with my friend's family, too," Armin tells you. "Our shore house for the week is something like ten blocks from here."

“For the week? Which way’s your house?” you ask, before holding up your free hand. “Not in, like, a mega-stalker way.”

“Oh, I didn’t take it that way,” he promises, earnest intent pouring from his mouth. “It’s, uh… wait where are we — oh! That way.”

He swivels and points, like somehow that’ll triangulate where the beach starts.

Your chin turns, noting the direction. “So near the… beach? No fucking way, our house is that way, too, but more like a seven-block walk from here.”

Oh.

No fucking way, indeed.

"Seriously?" Armin asks, voice cracking just a tad.

"Yeah! Do you guys camp out on the beach by third street, too?"

He nods almost too eagerly. "We were just there this afternoon."

"So were we," you confess with a light laugh. "Small world! We were both being subjected to that god-awful book and could've warned each other to pick a less shitty book."

"Well, I brought about a dozen books if you want one to borrow."

Way to go, mouth.

Armin tenses instantly as the words pour from his mouth.

"I... you know, just in case the romance book doesn't work out! Or if you're a fast reader! Or if you—"

"Promise?"

Your question cuts through like a knife.

He is in awe.

Enamored.

He'll give you all of his goddamn books if it means you'll talk to him after tonight.

Suddenly your chin drops, and your free hand fishes for your phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts.

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, causing the blonde to simply wait.

Stare.

Don't go.

Don't go, don't go, don't—

"Shit, mayday with my friend."

You sigh as if you were expecting a disaster.

Hell, he's expecting one, too, but he's selfishly forgotten about saving Eren or finding Zeke.

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah, just..." You trail off, typing back a response. "They pre-gamed before we came here to save money. I told them not to, but... best laid plans, right?"

"I could give you my number?" he blurts, and your attention leaves your phone.

Your eyes round with surprise, and he feels immense shame in even offering.

Yet—

"For the books," he adds hastily. Shakily. "To borrow. O-Or if you ever want to just... talk about them."

"For the books," you agree, biting your lip between your teeth. "Yeah, sure, give me your phone."

His cup is empty, but he almost drops it trying to yank his phone out of his pocket.

Armin holds it out to you, unlocking the screen. He watches as you pocket your own phone and take his, typing your number into a new text chat window.

This is happening.

This is seriously, actually happening.

"Here," you offer, handing his phone back. "I put my name in."

He glances down, memorizing your name with newfound vigor.

"Okay, perfect. Oh — my name. My name is Armin."

"Armin?" You repeat. He nods. "I like that name."

Suddenly, he likes it, too.

"See you around?" he asks hopefully.

With a parting smile, you take a slow step backwards.

"...yeah, Armin. See you around."

You look just as sheepish as he feels when you turn on a heel, disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment he stands there, dumbfounded — phone in hand, slack jawed —

Hopeful.

Maybe...

Maybe Armin Arlert won't hate spending seven days at the Yeager shore house after all.

author's note:

Thank you SO much for reading part one of my little summer story! I've been dying to write a proper Armin fic for a while now, and a casual, warm vacation setting felt perfect for him. This is meant to be a cozy read, so I hope you enjoy my love letter to my favorite boy. xo

How are we feeling after part one? Let me know in the replies! (And thank you for any reblogs, likes, engagement, etc. Every comment gives this writer wings.)

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #armin arlert fanfiction #armin arlert fanfic #armin arlert fic #aot x reader #aot x you #gender neutral reader

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angie-likes-to-art · 4 months ago

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Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition V)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

New in Town by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hey!! could you write a story where a new girl at school decides to nervously go up to Eddie during lunch? She gently taps his shoulder to get his attention to ask him something. ahh I don’t know you can decide what she wants to ask him! lol meanwhile Eddie is just “🤨…😍”

Horror Movies & Chill by @eiightysixbaby (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

Satanic Panic by @hand-candy-writing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you encounter eddie munson in the cafeteria during his satanic panic rant, but quickly distract him from his tirade.”

Happy Hours (Series, Ongoing) by @bangaveragewhitewine (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader Summary: When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break. A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

Simmer (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve

Pairing: Linecook!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “welcome to hawkins’ number one diner! where the staff don’t wanna be there and the linecook is a grumpy metal head who likes to argue with his boss and ignore everyone else. but the new waitress can’t hack the rude customers and the regulars can be a little… much.”

Pretty Eyes by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hii!! ok so you know that scene when Eddie is first introduced in Season 4 episode 1 where he’s exclaiming out things about conforming to society, and he’s jumping off the table and whatnot?? i was wondering if you could do something where Eddie ends up bumping into a girl while he’s moving around so dramatically, and instead of calling him a freak like he expects, she shyly apologizes for running into him when it was clearly his fault. He’d be the type to be so confused and yet go “Guys I’m in love-”😂

Bruises by @lonelysatellites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Working the bar in an underground bare knuckle boxing club, reader meets the new fighter on the block, a wiry, charming metal head.”

Don’t Call Me ‘Baby’ (Series, Completed) by @katyswrites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would both tell yourselves, later on. It had started with a bet. You were a cocktail waitress, studying abroad in Rome and working yourself to death to keep yourself afloat. Steve Harrington was a business executive for one of the biggest tech companies in the world, ten years your senior, and earnest enough that it intrigued you. But, there was only one problem - he doesn’t do relationships. Not now, perhaps not ever. So, a deal is struck - something mutually beneficial. No attachments, and you get to be his perpetual mistress, while he makes sure you want for nothing. But, what happens when the agreement becomes more than what either of you bargained for?”

Same Old Song and Dance (Mini-Series, Completed) by @m0llygunn (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bully!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Eddie’s teased and taunted you for the last decade of your life but you’re not innocent. It’s always been a game, a dance if you will.”

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jaeeyaaasworld · 8 months ago

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Brother's Best Friend - MS47

Featuring: Mick Schumacher x Reader

Warnings: mentions of an awful date, Mick is really a sweetheart and a desperate mess, a bit smutty at the end to MDNI

Requested: Yes/No

"are you really going on a date with him?"

Esteban, your brother asks you, as you're sitting across from him and his best friend Mick.

"I mean- yeah, why would I not? he seems gentle"

you say, shrugging your shoulders as you placed a piece of tangerine, that Mick peeled for you, in your mouth.

"gentle doesn't mean that he's for sure not a predator"

Esteban remarked, making Mick snort and you sigh.

"come on, Estie. if I don't put myself out there I won't have any friends apart from you two"

you said, taking another piece of tangerine in your mouth as Mick gasped.

"what's wrong with us?"

he asked offended, making you chuckle.

"you have your own group of friends and some of them still treat me like a child, I hate it"

Mick and Esteban exchanged a look and shrugged, getting back to the conversation that they were having before regarding Mick's new motorcycle.

time skip

you should have listened to your brother.

this guy was a freak, within the first few minutes of the date you already wanted to leave and never look back again.

he was talking all about himself and the way he was an amazing guy and how all his exes are still in love with him, his ego obviously too big for his own stature.

as soon as you could you ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and hurriedly taking your phone out to dial Esteban's number.

"come on, pick up pick up"

you whispered under your breath, praying for your brother to pick up quickly.

your brother though, didn't seem to pay much attention to his phone.

so your only hope was one guy: Mick Schumacher.

you pressed his name in your contacts, not really expecting him to pick up any time soon, knowing that probably he was hanging out with some of his friends right now.

but to your surprise, Mick picked up really quickly,

"hey, sweetheart. is something wrong?"

he asks immediately, knowing that you were actually supposed to be on your date, which made him worry a lot more then he himself expected.

the voices in the background of his part of the phone call made you stop; he was really with his friends.

"oh, you're busy right now? o-okay, I can try calling Esteb-"

"no no, tell me, sweetheart. I'm all yours, what do you need?"

he interrupted you, as you heard a door closing from his side of the call.

"alright, you were right, he is a freak. can you come pick me up?"

you asked softly, despising the fact that you were actually saying that he and your brother were right.

"for sure, give me the address of the restaurant and in five minutes I'll be there"

he says, hanging up quickly to get on his helmet and place his spare one on his elbow, speed walking towards his motorcycle in his friend's driveway, while his phone dinged with your message with the address of the restaurant you were in.

while he was getting out of his parking spot, you took in a big breath and got out of the bathroom, knowing that it was just a matter of time since Mick was here to pick you up.

you sat back down on your seat, a fake smile on your face to not make it look like you were trying to run away as quick as possible.

time skip

fifteen minutes have passed since your call with Mick happened and you were waiting for him for arrive any minute.

you really hoped that he didn't make a big scene with the guy because of his public figure and for your own embarrassment.

the guy kept talking about how he got a promotion the other day at work and you kept nodding mindlessly while throwing glances at the restaurant doors.

before he could finish what he was saying a man wearing an helmet and with another helmet in his hand walked in through the restaurant doors, his head going left and right to search for someone through the tables.

you quickly recognized Mick physique and the familiar helmet as he finally found you on the far right table, he pulled up the helmet visor and did a bee line through the tables to get to your table.

he gave you the spare helmet that was in his hand and nodded his head towards the door.

"let's go"

his voice was a bit muffled from the big helmet around his head but you could understand perfectly what he wanted.

you got up to follow him out, but your date got up with you and took your wrist to keep you with him.

"are you gonna go with him? you don't even-"

he couldn't finish his sentence as Mick walked towards him, narrowed eyes only a few inches away from the man's face, making him let go immediately.

Mick didn't even need to say anything to him to make him let go, taking your hand in his and gently guiding you outside of the restaurant and towards his bike.

he placed his spare helmet on your head, pushing it down and closing the strap under the helmet for you.

Mick quickly got on the motorcycle, giving you his hand to help you get on the bike behind him.

as soon as you got on, he turned the bike on and started riding the bike out of the restaurant parking lot and towards his house.

he wasn't gonna leave you alone after another bad date, he knew how you felt guilty everytime something went bad and him or Esteban had to come rescue you from the shitty situation you got yourself in.

he stopped at the red light right before his house, he straighted his back, his arms stretching to reach your exposed legs to rub them up and down.

his hands could feel the goosebumps on your skin from the cold breeze that was hitting your skin on the motorcycle.

what he didn't know was that part of that goosebumps on your skin were caused by his hands on your bare legs, how his fingertips felt on your skin and how his big hand could circle your whole leg easily.

but soon the light turned green, making his hands leave your skin to get back to riding with both his hands.

he parked the motorcycle inside his garage, giving you his hand again to help you get off his bike this time, getting off right after you.

you took off his spare helmet, looking at him apologetically as he got out of his own helmet.

"I'm so sorry"

you start.

"I know, I keep doing this and I probably should just suck it up for one night and let you guys be-"

Mick stopped you before you could get too deep into your thoughs, placing an hand up and making you shut up immediately.

"let's get inside first, then you can say all the bullshit you want"

he said, his harshness almost shocking you, as he gestured for you to walk up the stairs that took you into his house.

you walked up the stairs in front of him, walking into his house and getting into the kitchen to place his spare helmet on one of the stools that circled the island in his kitchen.

he got in and sighed while placing his helmet and his protective jacket on the couch, turning towards you and placing his hands on his hips as soon as he was done throwing his stuff on the couch.

"illuminate me, what were you saying?"

you gulped as he looked at you with that intimidating stare of his that you really hoped you never saw directed at you.

"I was saying... I really should suck it up for one night and let you guys be, I'm sure you were with your friends and I disturbed you and I'm sure Esteban is with his girlfriend and I called him out of the blue and-"

you started overthinking, gesturing around with your hands and stuttering sometimes, but Mick interrupted you.

"you know, Y/n... you're right, I was with my friends. but as soon as I got your call I ditched everyone and ran to you"

he started walking towards you, getting so close that you could feel his breath on your face and the smell of his cologne was as strong as ever.

"you know what that means?"

he asked, caging you with his arms on either side of your waist, both hands resting on the island behind you.

"what does that mean?"

you ask, big eyes staring up at him, he felt like he couldn't resist any longer, he couldn't keep it in himself any longer, he felt like if he didn't touch you in the next five seconds he would die.

but he tried to keep his hands to himself, couldn't risk to get the most precious girl on the planet get uncomfortable because of him.

"that I'm so whipped for you. so whipped that I would leave the most important meeting of my whole career if it meant saving you from a freak and having you safe at home by my side, so whipped that I would ditch any woman on the planet to be with you any second of my life"

he started whispering, his hands finally making contact with your waist, rubbing your waist softly over the cute blouse that you put on for that freak you were going on a date with.

"I knew I was done for the moment you walked into my life with that little smile of yours and those sweet hands that love to rub my shoulders whenever I am sitting on a chair, I wanted to learn everything about you and I finally did it. I know everything you like, everything you dislike. Y/n, I know everything"

Mick continued, his arms getting you up to sit on the island of his kitchen, his body placing between your thighs as his hands placed themselves on the bare skin of your thighs.

"apart from your sexual likings, obviously, but I promise I'm a fast learned. I would do anything you ask me to, destroy anything that annoys you. I would set the world on fire just for you"

he said, one hand rubbing from your thigh to your jaw and the other rubbed over your leg, reaching right before your knee to pull you in towards his body.

"why can't you see it, Y/n? I could be perfect for you"

Mick finished, his lips ghosting on yours, almost touching.

but Mick took your silence as a 'no', as he was preparing himself mentally to put space between you two and probably not feel any of your skin on his anymore.

what he didn't expect was you pulling him in by his collar, smashing your lips with his in an heated kiss.

his hands started roaming your body before he could even think about what was happening and you were already pulling his body as close as possible to yours.

one of your hands was on his chest while the other was in his hair, messing them up so good that he didn't want to fix them ever again, as if he found his favorite hairstyle.

you didn't waste time as you hopped off the kitchen island to slowly push him towards his couch, your lips never leaving one another.

you pushed him to sit on the couch as you pulled your blouse off, leaving you in your skirt and lace bra.

his mouth opened in disbelief, his bulge pretty evident in his jeans.

"I'm so desperate, you can't even imagine"

he whispered, not really to you, but more to himself.

"I can see it, no need to imagine"

you tease, getting closer to him, making his eyebrows furrow as he stared your body down.

"I want to worship you my who-"

he couldn't finish his sentence that his phone started ringing in the pocket of his jeans.

he got his phone out of his pocket and looked at the id, eyes widening slightly as he responded.

"hey, Esteban"

Mick greeted his best friend, trying to not sound like he was about to fuck with his sister.

"hey, have you heard from Y/n? she's at that date and she called me but I was with Flavy and I didn't hear her call"

he started panicking.

you got closer to Mick and got on his lap, your lips finding his neck as he tried to keep his voice steady on the call with your brother.

"uh- yeah, yeah. she's- uh, she's at my house. she's already asleep, she told me she was rea-really tired"

he lied through his teeth as he threw his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"oh- okay. well, I'm coming over tomorrow morning to pick her up-"

Esteban said, but got interrupted by Mick.

"no- I'll... I'll accompany her to your house, it's no problem"

he said, making Esteban frown.

"right... well, okay, have fun kiddos. oh- and make sure you use a condom"

Esteban teased with a chuckle.

"oh, fuck you"

Mick said with a laugh.

"my sister probably will"

Esteban joked, making Mick chuckle and hang up on him.

he turned to you as you looked down at him with a smile.

"where were we?"

Mick asked.

"oh- right, me worshipping you my whole life"

he said, placing his hands on your arms to flip you around on the couch and placing himself between your thighs.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x you #f1 fluff #mick x reader #mick schumacher #mick imagine #ms47 #mick #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n

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sordidmusings · 1 year ago

Text

Tender Love and Care - Massage 1/3 (Buggy x Reader)

Art by Capitanpoops!

A/N: More love for our beloved fool! This one with a dash of idiots in love and a heaping scoop of yearning. The next half of this installment is mostly done as wel,l but I needed to get this out and I think it'll be digested better in these chunks. Gotta pace yourself on the clown content (Do as I say and not as I do 💀) I trimmed it down to the necessary events and the important (read: indulgent) interactions with Buggy and she still somehow got long whoopsy

Word Count: ~4.4k

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), brief suggestive allusions, reader is oblivious and Buggy is delusional, Buggy continues his inner married life fantasy world, you feed him tangerines and he’s kind of a freak about it 💀

<-Prev Next->

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

You weren’t there.

Why weren’t you there?

Buggy found himself alone in sheets, which barely held the remnants of body heat. Your body heat; the only proof you left behind of your night together. Or was he imagining it? Wishing it into existence so hard that his brain took pity on him and let him feel warmth that wasn't truly there. He turned his face further into the hammock, deeper into the bedding, seeking more pieces of you. All he was able to get was some of your elegant smell from a lukewarm pillow and it ached. It ached that he was here begging for scraps of you and all he got were vestiges of your presence.

He tried to comfort himself with the memory of your cheek on his head and your hands in his hair and your skin under his lips. That sweet, blissful second of contact only made his chest feel tighter wherever it was leagues away. It may as well have joined him, burrowed in your hammock, with how potent the sensation felt. He felt bitter that you would be so kind and then leave him as an afterthought. Was it a trick after all? Buggy found himself switching back and forth between distrusting your intentions and accepting them as genuine. It would've taken a pro for all of that to be an act, but then again he didn’t really know you. You could’ve had a history in intel gathering. Or honeypotting. On top of that, what reason could you have to treat him so tenderly? Not only was he an enemy of your crew, he was already assisting you all. Beyond even that, you were, well, you.

Buggy hadn’t had much time to watch you in Orange Town, as he had simply put you away with the other two for Cabaji to handle. Now that he was diminished to a head, though, the only thing he could do was watch. And talk. He made sure to do both in abundance, half for boredom and half to piss off your crewmates. He especially liked messing with the skittish one.

You, however, he would mostly watch. Yeah, he couldn’t keep his big trap shut, but it was more to fill silence if he felt uncomfortable or to prod you mildly to test your reaction and learn more about you. He had learned a lot. Your interests were broad but not without depth, and they spanned so many disconnected topics that it spoke to an inherent love of learning and engaging. You liked to play back with those around you, making them feel included. You were kind; understanding and nurturing were clearly in your nature with how you’d tend to others. You always noticed and cared for the details of a person - how they embody their feelings, how they like to be cared for, pieces of their tasks that could be eased, habits that kept them from caring for themselves, any act or item that made them smile. He saw it as so diametrically opposed to the destructive path he left behind him. Why would you bother yourself with tending to him and his messes?

His thoughts made the physical distance between you two feel even greater. Buggy allowed himself the comfort of snuggling fully into your pillow and breathing deep the scent of vanilla and spice from the cushion and his wild hair. He had begun to slip back into sleep when gentle fingers brushed his hair back across his temple, pulling a small gasp from him.

“Bugs?” you whispered, checking if he was awake or needed more prompting. You caught his eye and were distracted by the way his lashes brushed your pillowcase with each blink.

“Oh so you decided to come back,” Buggy grumbled into the bedding.

“Of course I did,” you soothed. You didn’t want him to start out the day on a bad note, but you had duties to take care of around the ship. “I wanted to let you get some rest. I doubt you were able to get much in a sack or a barrel.”

Buggy took in the way you grimaced at the thought and some of the ache in his chest lessened. You helped him turn over before placing your hands on his cheeks. Finally, the warmth on his skin was fresh.

“C’mon, let’s get you some breakfast,” you chirped. Buggy didn’t care if he imagined how fond the shine in your eyes was.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“You just had to poke the bear huh?” you admonished. You nudged the door to Nojiko’s hut closed with your foot and looked down at Buggy’s face in your hands. You didn’t think you’d be seeing him gagged and glaring again, especially so soon. At least this time he was more angry at the situation than being purely upset with you. Meeting his eyes with a sympathetic smile, you settled the both of you to sit on the edge of the deck.

“Can’t say I blame you, though,” you said, pulling the tangerine out of Buggy’s mouth, placing it higher on your legs than where he rested. He chased it with some choice curses and moved his jaw around to rid himself of the stretched discomfort. You helped him by rubbing your thumbs into the muscles above the sharp angle of his jaw. With each circling motion, some of his bitterness followed the tension out of his face. “They barely let me give you anything for breakfast, no lunch, and now you can’t have dinner? I dont…” you trailed off, looking for the right words. Coming up short you sighed and finished, “I don’t like it.”

“Join the club,” Buggy spat.

Your eyes fell to your hands, which now fiddled with the tangerine. “Well, we do have a little food.”

“I guess it’s better than nothing,” he relented, and you began peeling. While he mostly just looked grumpy, there was a despondency in the glaze of his eyes and the twitch of his lip. Your heart ached for him despite the fact that you knew at least some of this was his own doing. It was definitely his own mistakes that led his path to being held captive and at the whims of others, but you were really stuck on things like the lack of food. You decided you were probably too soft for piracy with the way his head being thrown around made you wince. Maybe you’d have to find out how to be a different kind of pirate. Like Luffy. A smile began to soften your face at the comfort that idea brought you. It felt right.

Meanwhile, Buggy’s mood was sullen at best, fueled by his distant howling stomach. The pretty smile decorating your face, however, began distracting him enough to start calming down. Focusing on how beautiful you looked, wearing a tender smile in the moonlight, he began to feel distant from you. You looked natural - like you belonged right here amongst quiet air, sleeping sky, and things that grow. He was a naturally disruptive force; he belonged here as an observer, an audience member, and not a part of the scene.

Buggy was broken from his musings when you offered him a piece of tangerine. He truly did wish for something more substantial, but he couldn’t deny that at the first bite all other thoughts stopped except the pungent flavor refreshing him. On the second, he nearly took your finger off when he lunged for more.

“Easy, easy,” you soothed, “I can always pick another one.”

He didn’t apologize but he did take the next few pieces more delicately. You’d give the segments to him in two bites so that it would draw the process out and hopefully make him feel a bit more sated. The next time he bit into a piece of tangerine, the juice burst back onto your fingers. After pushing the other half into his mouth, you brought your hand up to your mouth and sucked off the juice. The refreshingly bright flavor distracted you from the way Buggy stared at the action. You presented him with another slice, which he bit hard to make sure it would splash again. He wanted a repeat showing.

“You’re so messy,” you chastised. Again, your fingers were cleaned by lips and tongue. Again, Buggy was absolutely enraptured. Again, you did not notice.

This time when you fed him a piece, you put the whole thing in his mouth to avoid splashing. A new problem replaced the old one; Buggy’s lips closed against the tips of your fingers. Those fingers felt so soft on his lips and he promised himself to move slowly next time. Your mind kicked into gear when the way his lips pressed at you felt more like a caress - like a kiss - than an accidental brush. Your eyes snapped to his face to see what he was thinking, but his eyes were closed and his face relaxed and gave you absolutely nothing to go on. You wrote it off as taking time to savor fresh food after having been mostly starved and fed scraps. Even so, your hand was more hesitant this time.

Buggy kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth at the feeling of tangerine prodding his lips. It only made it halfway into his mouth this time. He chomped down creating a spray. You huffed but he didn’t care when the second half was given to him and he pushed forward to take it all and to taste the juice on your fingertips. He didn’t linger for fear of rejection but he couldn’t deny himself the chance to lick juice from your skin. Your fingers were soft and the tangerine was sweet and he was giddy that you’d shared a transferred kiss.

You had a lot more trouble explaining away the swipe of his tongue than the purse of his lips. The urge to ask him what the hell he was doing almost overcame you, but you were stopped by how peaceful he looked. You didn’t want to take that from him. Besides, the touch didn’t bother you. It was quite the opposite actually; you were immediately addicted to the buzzing sensation it shot from your fingertips through to your chest and stomach, where it stayed to flutter.

Buggy didn’t venture to be so bold through the remainder of the fruit, though your fingers received an almost-kiss with each piece. Your yearning to feel his lips with your own grew each time, pressing at your heart until each beat kicked back strongly. You take a handkerchief from your back pocket to wipe your hands and dab at his lips. Buggy was placid through the whole thing. You wanted to bask in that a bit longer, so you tried to think up a reason to stay outside. Placing your hands on the sides of his face with care, you tilted his face up to look directly at you.

“I wanna stay out in the fresh air; the hut’s still hot from cooking. Wanna stay with?” you asked. Buggy didn’t respond. Instead, he was eyeing you like you’d asked a trick question. “Of course you could always go back to the bag.”

“Out here.” That was much quicker.

“Good!” You were already placing him to the side to stand up and set up. You grabbed a cushion from a chair on the porch and placed it on the large rim in front of the porch’s support beam. After carefully picking Buggy back up, you settled into the surprisingly comfortable cushion and leaned back on the beam. Buggy was placed in your lap, tilted and facing out so that he could take in the bucolic scene with you. Neither of you spoke for the remainder of the night, even when you settled in for bed. It felt unnecessary to say anything to add to the atmosphere that had fallen around the two of you. There was more than enough filling it between the patterns of endless stars, moonlight on waxy leaves, and crisp breeze over earthen ground. The main reason for the silence, though, was that you already felt connected from the way that your body warmed the back of his head, the way his weight settled in your lap, and the way your fingers never stopped stroking his jaw, cheeks, and temple.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

The whole Arlong thing was going to shit. You were separated out with Usopp, trying desperately to get back to your crew and help with any remaining fishmen. Each pounding stride sent vibrations up your legs, rattling your bones and joints. Your ragged breaths and pumping arms helped carry you further from the smoldering corpse and closer to more enemy bodies, these ones still able to snap their teeth at you. You could distantly recognize that you were afraid, but there was no room for it to exist inside you with your heart pumping in every spec of your body.

Breaking your tunnel vision was a call of your name from behind you.

It echoed through your body and made you freeze because you knew that voice. In front of you, Usopp was staring confused over your shoulder. You were too nervous to turn and look with him. Your every muscle was gripped tight with indecision. His eyes moved to meet your wild look and the scrunch of his brow asked the question.

“Tell everyone thank you and I’m sorry.” The words were simple but the quaver in your voice carried all the meaning you had no time to speak out.

You wrenched yourself around, not even waiting to see Usopp’s nod, and began sprinting away from the weight of your decision.

Buggy’s heart was in his throat. At first it was fear that had it jackhammering, but then you turned and happy disbelief kept it pumping. Holy shit, you’re really running to him - literally running to him - hitting him like a freight train and yanking him with you. Even though he had watched you for every second of your charge toward him, it was a surprise when you got to him, so much so that when you grabbed him, he separated from the waist up. His legs had to rev like a wind-up toy to try and catch up. Your hand fisting tight around his wrist was edging on painful but he loved it because it was real and you were real and you really chose him.

~ ~ ~••• ✦✦✦•••~ ~ ~

When you close yourselves off in the inn room you feel like you can relax for the first time in a long while. There’s warm food in your bellies and a roof over your heads. The room was a fair price and any of the shabby touches just added to the charm. It felt like being tucked into the guest room of a distant relative; there was an air of home even though you knew none of the stories this place has seen. While you were taking your time to look around the room, Buggy made a beeline for the bed and toppled onto it with a theatrical groan. You gave him a minute to breathe before you decided to touch base on the run in at dinner.

“She’s definitely trying to use us,” you cautioned.

“Well the feeling’s mutual,” Buggy responded, slowly getting himself upright. You snorted.

“I guess you’re right. Just gotta keep on our toes; there’s been enough bullshit recently,” you said, plopping next to him on the bed. He ate up the way your arm pressed into his. He sat stone still, hoping that if he didn’t move then you’d never realize you were touching him and move away. Fuck, having his body back was euphoric with how he got to experience more of you and your touch, but it was also overwhelming. Normally, he’d have no trouble asserting himself or stealing into someone's personal space but this felt so different. Every move closer to you felt like crossing an ancient rope and plank bridge; he was swaying and unsteady and every new piece of wood may give to let him plunge away into a rabid river, far away from the safety at the other side. You felt how he froze up like a rabbit before a wolf and worried you’d said something wrong.

“I’ll keep like the daintiest of my dancers, Toni Twinkle-Toes,” he promised, trying to appear normal by giving you a cheeky look.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed. “Better swap out your clunky ass boots for some slippers.” You nudged his boot with your own and kept your leg pressed tight to his. You were proud of yourself for finding a casual way to feel more of him.

“Got any on hand?” he asked after pausing just a touch too long.

“Nah, left my ballet get up on the ship.” You waved a hand to gesture at the bag you’d overstuffed between your run from Usopp and escape from Conomi Island. It was easy to convince your companion to go with you to gather your things. It was much harder to convince him that, no, you would not help him steal the whole ship.

“That's too bad,” he sighed. “I would’ve loved to see you in a tiny leotard, sweetcheeks.”

Buggy happily received your shove, though he still fell to his side, holding it like you’d broken him. Through laughter you said, “Well when you get me one, you better make sure it’s over the top and flashy.”

Oh no, he’s a goner.

You stand up and walk to your bag, missing the love-struck look set on you. A shame, really, because those eyes you loved so much had never looked shinier or softer.

“Okay, so since we’re sharing a bed, your ass is taking a bath.” Way to ruin the moment for him.

“But I’m tired and want to sleep,” he whined. A few moments passed where he fully registered your words and had to reboot. He popped back up to sit straight and rushed out, “We’re sharing a bed?”

His eagerness absolutely melted you and you turned to look at him with affectionate eyes. It felt nice to have someone so excited to be near you. You felt valuable. “Yes, we’ve done it before.”

“But I was just a head,” he pressed. You raised a brow.

“I mean we can figure something out if you don’t want to.”

Fuck, no, back track! Back track!

“It’s fine,” Buggy said, a little too loudly. “I mean - I don’t care. Well, it doesn’t bother me.” He took a breath and tried again, while you tried to stifle your laughter. “Since you want to be in my bed so bad, you’re more than welcome to it, toots.”

“How sweet,” you cooed sarcastically. Your walk over to him had a predatory sway. He stayed enraptured as you grabbed his scarf and leaned in close to his face. He shivered as the material pulled gently at the back of his neck. His rounded eyes did their best to take in every fleck of color in your own. “After you take a bath.” You let him go quickly and moved back to finish gathering your things.

“Fine,” Buggy groaned. He felt much too flustered so he compulsively added one more joke. “Sure is one way to get me naked.” He waggled his brows and winked when you gave him an unimpressed look. You wouldn’t let him see how much the thought got to you. The image of him spread out in a tub, skin pink through the steam and long hair sweeping down his shoulders to cling to his chest then float lazily in the water, had you blushing. You imagined him opening droopy eyes, darkened by those pretty lashes, to invite you in with a reaching hand and a devilish smirk. You had to make that a reality. But for now, whatever was happening between you two was too new and unstable.

“I’m sorry to say your nudity will be between you and the room; I’ve bartered with Alvida to use her room’s tub tonight,” you explained.

Buggy was torn evenly between relief and disappointment. On the one hand, he was hurt from what felt like a polite rejection, but on the other, he had more time to prepare before he tried presenting himself to you. When you see more of him, he wants to look his absolute best. He wanted to stand up to your looks and prove he was worth looking at. He needed you to feel he was worth touching and especially holding. He desperately needed it to be perfect so that if anyone was making a fool of themselves with nervousness and desire it would be you.

He refocused himself by continuing your banter. “Oh, sweets, what’d that cost ya?”

“A future favor to hold over my head,” you answered. A grimace tugged at your lips for a moment at the memory of Alvida’s predatory smile at the terms.

He let out a low whistle. “Sure is a high price for a tub.”

“You have no idea how desperate I am for a soak,” you moaned in a way that sounded exhausted to you but sinful to Buggy. You needed to get away from him before he said or did something stupid.

“Then go already and be quick; we paid for a nice bed and I’m getting my money’s worth,” he said, flicking his hands to shoo you. With a roll of your eyes, a shakedown of your bag, and a sarcastic salute, you left the room to give yourself the scrub down of a lifetime (and then that relaxation soak for your aching bones - Buggy will survive some waiting).

A very small piece of Buggy wished that he had asked you to share the tub, but a very large part of Buggy was a chicken. Besides, he wanted to see you on the ‘after’ side of clean; not ‘before’. He gathered his supplies, mostly shaved and siphoned from yours, while the tub filled. After the water reached high enough, Buggy stared at it with a sour frown. He was monologuing to himself about the tedious endeavor you’ve trapped him in, only to change his mind the moment he settled into the bath. Though he’d never admit it to you, the relief he felt at the warm water loosening him and washing the stale feeling off of his skin made the effort and delay of a bath well worth it. Before he moved to start however, Buggy closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling and release his imagination.

His mind was kind and supplied him with images of you sitting beside the tub, preparing your tools and tinctures to take care of him. The smile he gave you was the one he admired on the tangerine night, and even though it was conjured by his own mind, it made his heart stutter. He made his plight worse when he imagined overflowing love in your eyes and sweet words on your tongue. You were helping him after a long day at sea - no, no, after a successful raid for treasure. You sang his praises and called him things like “sweetheart” and “my love”. Your body was dripping with the priceless gems and precious metals that he’d placed on you the moment he had gotten back to his cabin, and he told you you looked like a queen. You blushed and smiled and hugged and kissed and pulled him over to the tub to show your gratitude with loving service.

The fact that he was able to use your shampoo and conditioner again made the illusion better but his fingers were no match for yours. They pulled no sighs nor tingles from him. They didn’t ease him into liquid contentment. Even though he was able to mostly replicate the soothing and intentional way you had worked the products into his scalp, he gave up the effort quickly. It wouldn’t feel nearly as good because it wasn’t you doing it. He instead set about going through the process as quickly as possible.

Buggy had hoped that moving on to washing his body would give him a reprieve from his yearning, but it simply continued on. Each swipe of the soaped cloth across his skin has him daydreaming of your hand behind it instead. He wondered what bliss you would be able to bring his aching muscles if he had turned to putty after only a scalp massage. He wondered what details you would notice and add to like you had when washing his hair. Which surfaces would you soften? Which senses would you guide? Which hidden knots would you free him of? Which pieces of himself would you have him learning new joys from?

He wrenched himself back into the present, realizing he had stood still in his thoughts for much too long. Setting back to his work, Buggy gave himself a painstakingly thorough washing and rinsing, finishing it off with a long brushing of his teeth. He felt very ridiculous going about the whole process, but the thought of being so close to you and having or doing anything that disgusts you. He’s positive it would crush him.

That very feeling had him washing every spec of sand, dirt, sweat, and makeup off of his face so he could build the whole look back up fresh. He gave his past self one drop of gratitude for keeping makeup in his coat. Though it was usually for touch-ups, there was plenty to make almost any of his looks. He was meticulous with his application, especially around his eyes. There was not a line or lash or spec of glitter out of place. He kept to the same crossbones and blue diamonds you had first seen him in, hoping that they’d continue to keep your attention. He remembered that you noticed his eyes only second to his hair, so he darkened the smudged liner around them in hopes you would stare longer.

Next, the wild red smile was painted across his face. It made him feel more comfortable, like his nose stood out less, but something was missing. Buggy stared too long at his reflection, picking at every detail until all of it was ugly and distorted and unfixable. With a sigh, he settled on blending his painted smile to be a deeper blood red at his lips and turned away from the mirror. Though he was saved from seeing himself any longer, he didn’t feel any better. That was precisely when you knocked on the bedroom door.

~ ~ ~••• ✦✦✦•••~ ~ ~

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