#why? because then it's like he's pulling up in a clown car every time and i think that's hilarious | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diamondheartyux · 2 months ago

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Pennywise

"Legend has it he likes to be crammed into any tight, wet hole he can find."

DK x xreader

Genre: Horror, Smut 18 + MDNI

Word count: 5.8K

Warnings: Clowns, aggression, dub\con-ish, this is pretty tame compared to the others BUT if I have missed anything please let me know.

Welcome to part one of Killer Climaxes! 👻

Peep the playlist here

In a small town in Seoul, rumors swirl about Dokyeom: a clown obsessed, sex crazed weirdo who hangs out in the town's sewer systems. He was Seoul's own little Pennywise except he didn't crave your life, just your orgasms. It was also believed that once he got his hands on you, you were never the same, your body morphing, turning you into a certified nympho as the desperate craving for more was all but unbearable. The only problem is he doesn't double tap, so the town is left with a hoard of mindless zombies walking around in search of their next lay that could come close enough to satisfying them.

People always say there are pieces of truth in legends but you can't seem to find any in this. A whole town of lust driven citizens? A grown man who roams sewers dressed as a clown? No sane person would do these things. It was absurd not to mention the fact that you were absolutely terrified of clowns. You scoff, one headphone in blasting your favorite playlist, as you quickly crumble the newsletter in your hand. Your footsteps echo on the wet pavement, the chilly autumn air hanging with the remnants of the storm having just passed through. The leaves rustle in the trees lining the street, the air around them dancing in shades of yellow, orange, and red. A breeze blows softly, whispering to your skin as it coaxes goosebumps to the top. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as your feet pad over piles of fallen leaves with a satisfying crunch.

The sun was hidden behind the looming gray clouds, dimming the bright rays to a muted light around you. It was almost dusk, that time between early afternoon and nightfall when the street lights would turn themselves on at the first hint of dimness. You take in a deep breath, savoring the smells of damp and decay surrounding you and the scent sends waves of peace to your brain and through your body. It really was the most wonderful time of the year. You tread softly, in no hurry to get home as you travel the familiar path from college to your house. You zone out, your feet carrying you off muscle memory, as you nod your head to the music blasting in one ear. This road was empty, as it always was. That's why you chose it. No cars, no bikes, and most importantly: no people to bother you as you decompress from the day full of academics.

Humming softly, you skip a little as you lose yourself to your music pumping loudly in your ear, your arms swinging and your shoes stomping on piles of wet leaves. Your body moves to the beat, shimmying in time with the tempo. Your mind is lost within you, the rhythm in your ears is just the escape you need after today. The town was buzzing for Halloween as it quickly approached, every corner boasting of witches, vampires, and clowns. All make believe creatures merely brought to life by childlike wonder, things you didn't understand the fascination with.

You pass a storm drain and roll your eyes before tossing the balled up newsletter in your hand at it as you pass. You watch it as it disappears, hitting the concrete on the inside with a small noise and you smirk proudly. It was a perfect shot which is a lot because your aim was terrible. You turn back to the empty road before you with a smile on your face, amping the volume on your phone up. And you almost miss it.

You weren't sure what you heard at first. A rustling so soft, it sounded like a background noise in your song. You pause the music, still strolling, and listen. When you don't hear anything you unpause it then rewind, listening for the odd sound again. Concentrating on the notes and rhythm in your earbud, you finally hear it again yet this time, it's in a different spot in the song. You stop, your mind on alert now as you turn to survey around you. Your eyes laser in on everything, searching for anything or anyone around you.

You turn slowly to your right after sweeping the left and that's when you see it. Your eyes widen as you stop mid turn, your shoulder angled towards the storm drain you just passed. There, about half a meter from the drain was the newsletter you threw inside. Your brain is buzzing, busy sending out signals of danger through you yet your body remains frozen in disbelief. Against better judgment, you bring your body to face the drain. Your head tilts curiously as you study the paper ball in the street. Your eyes dart from the drain to the paper and back. You knew you had thrown it into the drain. Hadn't you? No, you saw it go in. It was the perfect shot, wasn't it? You lift your foot the slightest bit much to your brain's disappointment, and you push yourself forward, taking a timid yet cautious step.

You make your way back to the paper, one small, scared step at a time. You try to come up with reasons for what happened yet none of them make sense. You stop, bending down slowly to grab the paper as you approach it and that's when you hear it. A sound so soft you almost missed it. You squat down, peering into the sewer when you hear it again: a whimper. It’s childlike in nature and a panic begins to bloom in your chest. Was there a child in there? How long had they been in there? Were they stuck?

“Hello?” you call timidly, your voice soft but loud enough to bounce off the concrete of the drain. You gasp lightly when a small, timid voice returns your greeting.

“H-h-help me.” it says softly, the high pitch whine of a scared, small child ringing in your ears, sending alarm bells through your entire body for the wrong reasons. You lean forward some, placing your hand on the slick pavement to balance yourself as you try to peer into the drain.

“I’m stuck. Please help me. I’m so scared. It’s so dark here. I want my mom.” the voice says to you, a hushed sniffle paired with a choked sob following its last words. Your heart pounds, shattering and the sirens of your brain are silenced by the overwhelming need to help this poor scared child. You lean forward more, your face now mere centimeters from the opening. You tilt your head side to side as you survey the blackness that presents itself over the lip of the entrance. You pull your foot forward to walk yourself in your crouched position, the sound of your sneakers dragging across the pavement feel louder than they should be but still bounce off your ears despite the frenzied pumping of your heart.

“Give me your hand. Let me see if I can pull you out and then we’ll find your mom, okay? Can you reach the top?” you ask tenderly as you continue to move your face closer. Your arm comes out hesitantly, hovering just in front of your chest as you wait to see little fingers breach the darkness in front of you.

Small sniffles echo quietly in the inky dark space and you sit frozen, eyes trained to it.

“I’m reaching as far as I can. Can you see my fingers?”

You tilt your head curiously, concluding that the child was too short to be seen over the edge so you lean forwards more, one knee coming to almost touch the ground as your hands rests on either side of you for balance. You bring your face to the storm drain, eyes straining to see the outline of small, chubby, childfingers. When you see nothing, you feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You squint before you call back out.

“I can’t see you.” You reply but then you see pale white fingers slowly come from the void of the drain as they snake up into the air before coming down one by one to grip the lip deliberately. You tilt your head in confusion. The fingers are long and slender. And pale. They very much do not look like children’s fingers unless maybe it was the way the shadows cast in there. Maybe it was optical, something your brain couldn’t understand due to the vast varying degrees of dark and light. You watch, holding in a breath while leaning closer subconsciously before you hear the voice again.

“Can you see me now?” it asks in response, the childlike falsetto distorting with every syllable.. You lean forward a bit more out of curiosity, eyes squinting as you try to see when suddenly a face appears, popping up quickly. You gasp, startled and fall backwards as an eerie giggle floats across the space between you. It takes a moment for you to register that you were looking at a clown. His face was painted a ghostly white and it cracked along the lines in his forehead to settle into the wrinkles of his skin. His yellow eyes gleamed manically, the red lines running through them in consistency with the curve of his cheek stopped at the end of his lips before outlining them in the same deep red that lines his face and the top of his nose. A ruffled, dirty white collar framed his neck, resting under his chin. His hairline was pushed back, his red hair barely visible in the shadows.

A scream dies in your throat as terror strikes you, coursing heatedly through your veins. Adrenaline responds immediately and you can feel your muscles trembling at the sight. A clown. A fucking clown. You’re frozen, deer eyed as you watch this creepy clown, his long white fingers lifting as more malicious laughter breezes off his lips. His hand begins to slowly climb out of the shadows, reaching at snail’s pace towards your ankles. Your hands ache from leaning back on them and your chest heaves as panic threatens to shut your entire system down.

His fingers creep closer to your feet and you stare, helplessly frozen as they uncurl before stretching slowly in an attempt to wrap around your ankle. In that moment, your brain finally switches back on and you instinctively shuffle backwards in a desperate attempt to put space between you and him before curling your feet closer to you. Tears fall down your cheeks, your vision blurry with them as you scramble to get away. Your eyes refuse to leave his terrifying face, the sadistic smile curving his lips upwards and exposing his teeth, etch itself in your memory. You finally manage to pry your watery vision from the terror in front of you as you twist to the side, trying to push yourself up to stand and run. That’s when you feel it.

His fingers wrap around your ankle and terror buzzes through you once again. Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, as if screaming to get away. You turn your head to look back over your shoulder, both hands flat against the damp street under you before you kick your leg as you try to shake him off.. His hand grips tighter and his grin grows wider, exposing more of his pink gums.

He tugs at your foot, pulling you closer to the drain and to the darkness inside it. You kick harder and more frantically this time while sobs begin to erupt from your chest. He pulls you quicker and your flailing slows down to a stop. You try to grasp the ground as you inch closer to him, your nails cracking and breaking against the pavement before they begin to bleed. Your fingertips ache and, despite the failed efforts, you continue to claw in hopes to get away. You dig your hands tighter against the concrete as his giggles dance up your body and hover in your ears. Your vision is cluttered with tears despite the stream of them cascading down to drop from your chin.

In spite of your efforts, you can feel him pulling you closer, your legs bending as they crest the lip of the drain and dangle in the darkness inside it. Your arms ache and your fingers throb, the tips raw from your pointless struggling. You sniffle as your attempts to free yourself dwindle. Your body slides deeper into the storm drain, your legs dangling aimlessly as your waist finally crests the lip. He tugs you more with his slender fingers wrapped around your ankle almost painfully.You all but give up, allowing him to drag you further into his makeshift lair when suddenly you stop moving. He yanks your ankle to pull you down but you don’t move. Your upper body from the waist up remains on the outside, your hips too thick to snake into the bend of the drain. You wince as he continues to tug on your leg. Your hands return to trying to grip the road as you attempt to pull yourself out. Your legs flail frantically, hoping to take this opportunity to escape.

A sigh of frustration permeates the air as he finally stops pulling your leg. You kick your legs continuously as you try to shimmy your way back out when suddenly a sting radiates across your backside. You jump slightly at the sudden, unexpected motion. Just how hard did he slap you for it to sting through your jeans? You continue to work to free yourself when another sting radiates through your bottom half. Your attempts falter as your body and your brain begin to work on different levels. Your brain tries to process what's happening while your body,...well your body doesn't seem to understand. The dull ache left in the wake of his hand spreads through you and your body is responding in all the wrong ways. A craving starts to wake, yawning as it rises slowly in your core so when his hand connects with your ass again, you almost moan involuntarily.

Your brain bounces everywhere. You should be trying to get away, not all but anxiously waiting for the next touch. It had been a while since someone had made you feel good and the fact that his face was hidden almost made it bearable. But he was still some weirdo dressed as a clown and you should definitely get away, shouldn’t you? You reach a hand out in front of you and put pressure on your fingers as they grasp the pavement the best they can when his fingers begin to trail the inside of your legs. You pause as they work up from your calves at a tantalizingly slow pace. The tips of his fingers barely press against your pants as they tickle and tease on their ascension. You bring your bottom lip into your mouth, gnawing it as you anticipate the touch you knew was coming. He stalled, stopping to draw lazy circles in the middle of your inner thigh and you sigh before shifting in an attempt to move his hand where you want it.

A chuckle creeps up before his fingers continue their journey, grazing teasingly over the crotch of your jeans. You shift, pushing yourself backwards against the touch. His hand slips up towards your stomach, his fingers curling to cup you before they rub small circles against the fabric. You stifle a groan, the touch not nearly enough friction through the thick fabric of your jeans.

His hand disappears quicker than it appeared and you almost whine in protest before you feel his hand snaking between you and the wall you were dangling against. His other hand remains on your ankle, the grip loosening slightly as his fingers work to unbutton your jeans. He slides the zipper down slowly before pushing the fabric down as best he can with one hand. You shift slightly, instinctively trying to roll yourself against his hand to no avail. He continues to push your jeans down to your knees before he brings his hand back between your legs. His fingers slip over you, sliding skillfully between your folds. He runs them back and forth lazily before bringing his fingertips to your clit. You moan quietly as the motions send tiny jolts of pleasure through you.

His hand around your ankle loosens more as he rubs you at a teasingly slow pace, his hand still cupped as it hovers over your ankle while he waits to see if you try to escape again. You barely feel him remove his hand, your mind focused on how you could get more pleasure from his digits to even bother with trying to run even if you had. Another soft chuckle vibrates the air before you feel his opposite hand come to caress your exposed ass. You groan at the touch, pushing your hips into his hand for more friction. He pops your ass lightly as you do and you whine. The slap wasn't enough to sting but enough for you to get the point that he was in control here, not you. The teasing was frustrating despite how little of it had been given. You were already desperate for release before this and he was making it worse by drawing it out.

He runs his hand over the curve of your ass, gripping your cheek gingerly as he tugs it towards him to expose you some. You gasp softly before a low moan quickly escapes your mouth, billowing over your lips as you wait for what you expect to come. His fingers dip slowly, tauntingly as they casually glide down the curve of your ass and dip between your legs. You shift in an attempt to open your legs up more to allow him in which causes him to chuckle again at your eagerness. His skinny fingers stop to tease your now dripping entrance. You moan as the fingers circling your clit pick up their pace ever so slightly before he slips a finger inside you. You push your hips backwards to meet him as he sinks his digit deeper in. He starts out slowly, pulling his finger almost all the way out before pushing it back in to curl repeatedly in search of your sweet spot. You shiver slightly with every stroke as it warms the embers burning in your stomach.

His fingers work you in a rhythm, picking up in pace gradually. He slips a second finger into you and you groan, your aching fingers digging into the pavement again as your pleasure threatens to coil tight enough to snap. Your body acts on its own accord, pushing and rolling your hips between each hand faster and faster as you match his pace. He pumps in and out quickly, always making sure to stroke the sensitive spot buried in you. Your lip aches from biting back the sounds that brewed in your throat and finally, you press your forehead on the wet ground as the dam holding them back breaks. Your moans carry, vibrating along your skin to carry down to his ears. His fingers pick up, circling faster and pumping harder. The tension now festering inside was growing too fast, it was uncontrollable and finally, it broke loose. Your body shudders and you clenched around his fingers, his ministrations sending you right over the edge without a second glance. You moan into the concrete as pleasure crashes into you. His fingers don’t relent, still pumping in and out of you as he coaxes your orgasm on.

Your body quivers slightly as you buck softly through each wave. His hand falls from your clit before his fingers slip out, leaving an emptiness in their wake. You groan and wiggle again, still wanting more despite having just gotten off. You hear his mouth pop, as if he had been sucking on his fingers before he chuckles again and you have to stifle a moan at the thought of him licking you from his fingers and enjoying it. You lift your head up, your breathing rapid as your brain tries to settle and unscramble when you feel yourself slip a little. You grip the road again to keep yourself where you are to no avail. You squeak out a small yelp and squeeze your eyes shut as your body slips more, sinking into the sewer. You brace yourself for the impact you were so sure you’d feel and when it doesn’t come, you open your eyes.

It was dim, the soft light from the drain barely illuminating anything. Your pants were still bunched around your knees but with them were hands. You raise your eyes and turn your head and find those yellow eyes staring back at you. They gleaned but this time with lust instead of malice. His hands held your hips and he pressed his fingers into your skin lightly. You shut your eyes quickly, the sight of him sending terror to override the high you were still riding. His fingers danced against your skin causing it to prickle underneath his touch. Your body, despite better sense, ignited again as he ran his hand up your body to caress your waist. He turned you around to press his back against you and you could feel the outline of his arousal as it pressed into your bare ass. You moan quietly as his hands continue their journey, fingertips trailing as they come to cup your breasts.

Your hand reaches back to rub against him as he paws your chest through your shirt, stopping to slip his hands under your sweater then your bra to caress your bare skin. His fingers graze over your nipples, flicking across them teasingly before he rolls them between his thumb and pointer finger. He tugs them gently and you gasp, your hand gripping his erection through his costume as you try to stroke him. You keep your eyes shut as he walks the two of you forward before coaxing you to bend. He lifts your hand from his crotch and places it against the cool, curved wall. A breath puffs from your lips at the crisp feeling against your skin, the chill a deep contrast to the heat blazing under your skin. His hands disappear from under your sweater and you hear the sound of his clothing rustling. In seconds, the hands have reappeared followed by the warmth of his skin as he grips your hips to pull you against him.

You moan softly at the feeling of his bare erection pressing against the skin of your ass and you push yourself back towards him. He lifts his hands, one coming to spread your ass cheeks apart and the other to guide himself to your entrance. You arch your back as you offer yourself up to him and he takes the invitation, swiftly pushing himself into you. He curses lightly at the feel of you, your warmth and wetness eagerly swallowing him. His cock fills you with a fullness you hadn’t ever experienced before. You moan at the feeling of being stretched this way as he pushes into more and more. Your chest heaves as your breathing rises with every inch he buries inside you before you feel his hips against your skin again.

You hang your head, your hands resting firmly on the wall as he pulls back to slide out of you almost completely. You moan softly as he pushes himself back into you swiftly, setting the pace of the movements to follow. He starts to thrust into you fast, rocking your body with every pump. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips roughly as he pulls you to him with every forward thrust he makes. He grunts softly as you moan loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls around you. He thrusts faster, each one a little more aggressive than the last when a hand sides off your hips to caress up your back, over the base of your neck, and into your hair. His body leans over yours and you moan again as he pushes deeper into you while he fists your hair tightly. He tugs it roughly one time and you wince before he tugs again to pull your body flush with his, your back against his chest.

You gasp and groan as your hands whip around to grip against his hips, legs, whatever you could find and his pumps into you hard and fast. His free hand comes to rest under your sweater, his bare hand holding you as it rests on your stomach. He tugs your hair again to pull your head back before he presses his lips into the crook of your neck. He pounds into you over and over while his lips glide over your neck, stopping only to allow his teeth a chance to graze the sensitive spot below your ear. His groans bounce between his lips and your ear and fuels the fire blazing dangerously in your core. You dig your nails into his skin when his hand slips from your stomach and his fingertips find your clit again.

He rubs it almost furiously without bearing down painfully as he pumps faster into you. You rest your head against his chest, his hands still wrapped into your hair. The dam holding your sounds from earlier was all but shattered and the sounds of your moans mix with flesh colliding in the chilly, murky tunnel around you as they echo around you. You yelp as he pulls your hair harshly before letting it go, pushing your head forward as he does. He quickly forces you to lean back over and his hands find your hips again. He digs his fingers in painfully as he pulls out of you before slamming back inside roughly. The flames of your desire dance wildly with every thrust, pushing you closer and closer to combustion as he fucks you harshly. You hold yourself up on the wall as your body bounces violently in rhythm with his strokes.

He grunts and groans in time with each one before finally the fire inside explodes. You cry out as your body convulses under him. His strokes hold pace as you clench around him, having missed the edge of your pleasure before being completely catapulted into the blaze instead. He draws it out but never lets up, his skin slapping against yours as layer after layer of desire burns through your cells. When the embers finally die, you lift your head up and let it loll back as he carries on, chasing his high. You rock back and forth in time with his body, more sounds pouring from his lips before finally he pulls out of you suddenly. The absence hardly has time to be felt before he’s spinning you around and pushing you to your knees.

You don’t have time to think much less try to disobey before he shoves his cock into your mouth. You moan softly at the taste of you melting onto your tongue before he rocks himself against your mouth and shoves himself all the way in. You gag as he hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t stop him. He continues his chase. His fingers tangle into your hair as he guides your head back and forth to match the pace of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He growls before he smashes himself against the back of your throat once more. His hands hold you flush with his hips and his cock twitches as you gag around it. Tears form immediately in your eyes as you feel a warmth spurt against your raw throat. He rocks against your mouth as he chases his orgasm, making sure to coax out every drop of his release as he can as you swallow instinctively.

When he pulls out, you gasp for air and the tears pooling in your eyes creep down your cheek slowly. You cough, leaning over slightly. You only take your eyes off him for a minute but when you lean back up merely seconds later, he is gone. You rest a hand on your chest as you wait for your body and breathing to return to their normal, calm state. You turn your head side to side as you search for him but it's empty around you. You stand up and pull your jeans up to refasten them and readjust your clothing. You run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to comb it slightly before you turn to take in the area around you. You look up at the opening of the drain and know there was no way you would be able to get out of there that way. You turn to your left and begin to walk cautiously, your body on alert in the near darkness as you wait for him to pop out at you from the darkness somewhere.

You walk for what feels like forever before you see small beams of light cascading from the ceiling up ahead. As you get closer, a ladder comes into view. You climb up, rung by rung, stopping to press up against the heavy cover closing the path into the sewer above you. You let it crack lightly and listen before pushing it up and over. You pull yourself out onto a deserted road before standing and replacing the manhole cover. You brush yourself off and take in the area around you before recognizing where you were. When you get home, you go straight to the shower to wash off your circus sewer romp in hopes to help calm your body down. You climb into bed after and pull the covers to your chin only to be haunted by the memories of your afternoon. His face flashes through your mind, those yellow eyes boring into you. Tingles dance across your skin, teasing your arousal until you can’t take it anymore. You work yourself quickly, desperate for sleep but he was even there.

You dreamed about him, about the way he felt inside you. You heard the noises he made and felt his hands against you all over again. You awoke the next morning just as flustered as you were when you went to sleep. And it stayed this way. Every day and every night you were haunted by the memories of him and nothing was as satisfying as the way he slammed into you. Clowns no longer scared you after that. You watched them too closely now, hoping maybe one of them was him. You knew the rumors said he never hit it twice but you were desperate and only he could fill you the way you ached for. Every giggle that floated mysteriously across the air set your body and heart off. Every drain you passed, you stared at too long, hoping whatever you tossed inside would appear back on the street again after you passed.

You groaned softly, remembering when merely days ago you were scoffing at the unreal accusations of how half the town were brain dead, having been fucked into an addiction only to now find yourself in the same position.

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multiversefanfics · 1 year ago

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Haunted House

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!Reader Warning; cussing, kissing, tiny bit of angst then fluffy Summary: You and Colby have been friends for as long as you can remember, you would go to abandoned places with him and Sam but for some reason, the haunted house brings you two even closer together.

You were standing by your closet staring into it trying to figure out what to wear to this haunted house, you wanted to be comfortable but also cute, you could wear your favorite pair of jeans and a cute sweater, but you feel like that’s trying too hard, it’s too cold for shorts, finally it clicked. It’s fall, and you pull out your favorite flannel, black t-shirt, and pair of black leggings. Yes, that seems basic but at least you will be comfortable. Just as you finished getting dressed your phone started to vibrate, you looked over and it flashed Colby's name you were more than excited to pick it up but calmed down a bit because you didn't want him to know. "Hey Colbs, what's up?" You heard him chuckle through the speaker, you had the biggest crush on Colby but like every cliche he was oblivious, or at least made it seem like that. "Hey, you almost ready?" You took one last look in the mirror and smiled "Yup, are you here?" That's when you heard a girl giggle in the background, but it wasn't Kris or Celina, you ignored it and walked down the stairs and out the door, you locked your apartment door and made your way to Sam’s car getting in the backseat. “Hey guys” You chirped “Hey, Y/N this is Jessica she’s gonna come with us to the haunted house.” You listened to Sam speak looked over and gave her a small smile

“Hi.” She faked smiled and looked back at her phone, you nodded slightly and turned your attention to Colby “So I heard this haunted house is insane and you have to sign a waiver” You got even more excited, you love haunted houses, Halloween was your favorite holiday. You started to zone out while Sam and Colby were talking, you couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t pay attention, maybe you were too excited and anxious to get there and have fun. Finally, the four of you reached the haunted house and got out, you saw Kris and Celina standing in line to get in, and you ran over screaming their names they turned to face you and just ask you tackled them into a hug “Y/N!!” You all got up laughing “We just saw you yesterday.” You fake pouted and looked at Kris “A whole 24 hours that’s a long time.”

The rest of the group caught up Jessica had her arm latched with Colby’s you tried not to let it bother you, but your face said otherwise, and Sam noticed “Alright guys let’s go in” You snapped out of your jealous trance and followed behind the rest of the group; Sam trailed behind with you “I know you like Colby.” Your head snapped towards him, you laughed nervously and looked ahead “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam laughed and shook his head “I can tell, he likes you too by the way.”

You looked back at Sam “He does?” He nodded and watched as you smiled wide, while looking at Colby, then your smile faded when you saw Jessica kiss his cheek, you looked back at Sam “Y/N, I’m sorry but he does like you.” You shrugged “I’m here to have fun, we can talk about feelings later.” Finally you guys reached the haunted house, somehow you guys split up and you ended up walking with Colby “So… You and Jessica?” He laughed and shook his head “Oh no, just friends.” You nodded slowly “But she kissed your cheek?” He nodded “Yeah, I don’t know what that was about, it was uncomfortable honestly.” The two of you continued down the dark hallway and as you turned the corner a clown jumped out making both you and Colby scream and huddle close to each other, the clown laughed and moved to the side so you guys can go down the next hallway.

Still huddled together you walked, you looked over and slowly moved away from him and mumbled “Sorry” He chuckled and put his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him “I’ll always protect you.” You smiled and looked around the room, realizing that you two are lost in some maze “Wait where are we?” Colby looked around as well and shrugged, suddenly the lights started flashing and there was loud music playing, Colby grabbed your hips and pulled you behind him, while looking around.

He kept his arms on either side of you, your chest was pressed against his back, you peeked over his shoulder watching the dark figure in the corner move around on the ground, you frantically tapped Colby’s shoulder “Colby.” He looked at you from the corner of his eye “What’s wrong.” Your breathing hitched “R-right corner” Colby looked over and saw someone on the ground crawling towards you two Colby backed both of you up a bit, Colby forgot that you two were in a haunted house and it was just a normal person doing their job, he relaxed his muscles and chuckled a bit “You got me, that was good. You’re very flexible” The worker bend their legs over their head and crawled away, you slowly backed from Colby and continued down the hall “That was scary.” Colby looked over and put his arm around your shoulders again “Good thing I was here to protect you.” You smiled and nodded your head “Thank you, my fearless protector!” You reached the hall of mirrors, you were looking around when you caught Colby’s reflection staring at you, you looked over and met his gaze, he smiled down at you

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, you just look gorgeous.” You smiled back at him, you glanced at his lips then back at his eyes. “Y/N, can I kiss you?” You nodded your head and licked your lips, he put his finger under your chin, leaned down, and pressed his lips to yours, you slowly but surely kissed him back, and he moved his hands to your jaw pulling you closer to him deepening the kiss. This is exactly what you’ve wanted to do for years, you’ve had a crush on Colby for as long as you’ve known him, and the two of you pulled back when you heard your friends clapping and laughing, all except Jessica who was pissed. Your eyes immediately met hers, but all she did was turn on her heels and leave. “So are you two...” Sam pointed between the both of you, you and Colby looked at each other and smiled “Y/N, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You smiled even wider and nodded your head “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend.” Colby wrapped his arms around you and spun you around “Alright let’s finish this haunted house!” Celina chimed in. You guys finished walking through the haunted house getting scared at every other corner, then laughing it off. After you left you, all went over to the apple cider stand, Kris and Sam wanted to get something with pumpkin in it, so you also walked over to the frozen pumpkin pie shake stand, the rest of the night was spent laughing and cuddling up next to Colby.

A/N: I rewrote this several times which is why it took me so long to post it, but i hope you guys like it and if you want to be tagged in future fics, send me a message or comment on this with what character you’d like the tagged in or if you want to be tagged in everything!☺️

Main Masterlist - Colby Brock Masterlist

Tags: @megamindsecretlair

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock fanfic #sam and colby

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hornyhornyhimbos · 1 year ago

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"Hungry Eyes" ~ E. Munson

Summary: When Reader decides to tease Eddie in the haunted house, he knows exactly how to shut her up.

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,875

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, doggy style shenanigans, sorta public sex (sex in a car in a public parking lot), oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, cum eating, squirting, blood play, slight D/s dynamics (Eddie is called Master once), spanking, choking, clit spanking for a sec, slight degradation, nicknames (brat, baby), explicit language, maybe more because this shit nasty

Extra Notes: i will not be apologizing for me and @dungeons-are-too-cold being wh0res, you guys just have to live with us like this forever

Originally Written: 10/29/2023 through 10/30/2023

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Your heart was pounding at probably a thousand beats per minute, little squeals escaping your lips with every jumpscare. You clung to Eddie's arm, pretending this was all some innocent act as you moved toward the exit of the haunted house, though unbeknownst to you, Eddie knew exactly what you'd been up to.

That tiny red skirt, those batting eyelashes every time you looked his way, the little puffs of amusement you'd let out right by his ear. He'd be a fool not to know what you were doing.

A clown with a chainsaw jumped out as you reached the exit, pretending to chase the two of you out to the parking lot. The sight of him made you jump the hardest you had all night, your whole form clinging to Eddie's side as you ran toward the lot. When you finally looked up at Eddie, you noticed the dark maroon of his eyes, and felt yourself growing wetter at the sight and the daydreams it brought along with it.

"Well, wasn't that fun, Eddie?" you asked in fake naivety, your arm looped through his as you strode back to his van. Your core ached at the sight of his anger, eager for whatever he had in store for you.

He just gave you a stoic expression, speaking no more than five words. "Back of the van. Now." It was clearly a demand, the venom of his words nearly as powerful as his bite.

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you pulled yourself into the van. You'd gotten exactly what you hoped for, and that only had you more excited for what was to come.

Eddie slammed the door behind himself, meeting you with irises nearly charcoal black. "What were you doing? Bringing me here with you?"

Innocence swirled in your eyes, barely a hint of sarcasm detectable in your words. "What are you talking about, Eds?"

A thick hand reached for your throat, the digits wrapping around your throat while the veins in his wrist bulged a delicious shade of purple. "Don't be a brat. We both know you did this on purpose."

An excited gasp had the audacity to tumble from your lips. "I don't know what you're ta-"

He squeezed harder, the pressure shooting straight to the area between your legs. "You didn't know," he scoffed. "You didn't know I'd be able to hear your heart thumping loud enough to hear over everything happening in there? You didn't know I could hear the blood rushing through you every time a damn clown or ghost popped out at you?" Another huff of exasperation left his lips. "Please. We both know exactly what you were up to. Why don't you just admit it?"

Your heart sped with every passing second, and something about the idea of him hearing it for himself made you that much more desperate for your punishment. "I swear, Eds. I didn't know."

"You know what happens when you lie to me. Not too late to just admit your ulterior motives now."

Still, you weren't having it, your body simply becoming more needy for him with every passing second. "I'm not lying."

"Hands and knees," he demanded, not once blinking or faltering in any way. "I suppose I'll have to teach you what happens when you lie."

As if to taunt him, you were in no hurry to do as told. Little breaths of anticipation left your mouth, your heart rate increasing by the second. If he wasn't angry before, he sure would be now, and that had you weak at the knees.

In a matter of seconds, he had your skirt shoved off and tossed aside, getting a full view of your soaked panties. Your shirt was raised just enough for him to get his hands on you, eager hands meeting your naked breasts.

"No idea what you were doing?" he asked, sarcasm all but dripping from his tongue. "I'm sure you innocently forgot a bra this morning, the same way you definitely didn't have any hidden intentions with these lacy panties."

You shook your head as if he could see it from behind you, your ass sinking further back until it was nearly in his face, all on display just for him. "Promise, Eds. I just wanted to be pretty for you."

Eddie had the audacity to chuckle at your response, the sound sending electricity straight through you. "Another lie. You goin' for some sort of record, baby?"

Before you could quip out a response, his hand was on your ass, giving it a hard smack. You could sense him smirking behind you as he watched you starting to lose your confidence. Another loud smack sounded throughout the confined space, his nails digging into the skin there as his hand came down on you.

A third slap stung your skin, this one surely hard enough to leave a bruise. The pang sent desire straight to your lower belly, and you were almost tempted to moan at the feeling.

"Guess that shut you up, didn't it, brat?" he all but growled, but you knew he wasn't looking for a response. A final hit came down on your asscheek, this time eliciting an almost inaudible moan from you.

Had it not been for Eddie's super hearing abilities, he might've missed the noise. But you knew he hadn't, your heart pumping faster as you waited for his response to the noise.

"God, you're such a brat," he said, almost as though a revelation, not a fact he already knew. "The things I have to do to make you shut up."

A nail dragged down the expanse of your spine, harsh enough to draw blood. Your cunt throbbed at the sound of his heavy breathing, and you were tempted to turn and take in the sight of his hungry eyes. Luckily for you, a hand was wrapping around your hair, pulling your head in his direction.

Without a word, his tongue was meeting your back, licking up every drop of blood he'd drawn. Eddie's black eyes met yours, holding your gaze as he began to suck over the wound. A small jolt of venom flowed through you, and along with it, a wave of euphoria.

Eddie released his grip around your hair, a silent command to stay still and shut up. You heard the clanging of his belt and soon after felt the familiar sting and stretch of his cock.

"She's just dripping for me, isn't she?" he murmured behind you in sarcasm, beginning to slide back out. "Always so ready for my cock?"

He gave you no time to retaliate before rutting back into you, already finding that sweet spot it seemed only he could find. Every ridge and vein of his dick moved in and out of you, thrusting in harsh but satiating motions.

Mewls and moans fell between your parted lips as his nails dug into the skin of your love handles, working his cock in and out of your aching hole. Eddie's mouth met the wound on your back again, suckling the spot not for blood, but for a beautiful bruise that only he was allowed to leave.

He throbbed inside you, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second. A hand reached around your body, grabbing a handful of breast as he worked you harder on his length. All words had ceased from your mind, other than Eddie's name as it tumbled off your tongue like a prayer.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, a low noise he knew was sure to have you desperate for release, "I'm gonna cum. That okay?"

All you could do was nod as he spilled inside you, your pussy sucking him in and milking him dry. It was a rare occasion for Eddie to cum before you, but that always meant he had something very special in store for your orgasm, and the thought had you practically salivating.

After collecting himself and riding out his high, he was pulling out and instructing you to lie back on the carpeted interior. A hand cupped your pussy, holding his seed inside you as you maneuvered yourself down to the floor.

Before you had a chance to ask any questions, his tongue was meeting your core, effectively fucking his cum further into you. The taste of your essence mixed with his was surely salty on his tongue as he made out with your cunt.

A finger met your clit, flicking the bud at the perfect speed that was sure to have you reaching release in no time. Your hands searched for purchase in his hair, bringing his mouth to the spots you needed him most.

"Eddie, please," you begged, knowing he was dragging this out as long as he possibly could. "I need to-"

His mouth parted from you, black eyes meeting your gaze once again. His chin was wet with slick, the prickly hairs of his five-o'clock shadow glistening in what little light was shining in the vehicle. "Brats only get to cum when their masters say they can."

His palm came down your clit, slapping almost as hard as he had on your ass earlier. The sting nearly sent you over the edge, but you held back, letting Eddie have his way with you.

His mouth and finger traded places, tongue dancing over your puffy clit while two digits entered your throbbing pussy, shoving his seed impossibly further into you. That familiar tension built in your lower stomach, joined by a less familiar feeling, but one that you still recognized.

"Eddie, I'm gonna- oh."

His voice rumbled against you, the vibrations snapping that coil inside you. "That's it, baby, cum for me."

Your essence gushed around his fingers and mouth, practically painting him in your arousal. His name tumbled out of you in desperate screams as your climax washed over you, your hands grasping his hair like a vice. Your veins burned with pain and pleasure as he coaxed you through your high, his lips never leaving your center, even as your back arched off the floor.

The digits inside you scissored and crooked in delicious motions, your body trembling as you finally started to come down from your orgasm. Coherent sentences still ceased from your brain, your tongue instead settling for soft expletives as his hands and mouth finally parted from you.

The van stayed silent as Eddie reached for the spare towel he kept in the backseat, promptly wiping both of you off in gentle dabs. Your lungs searched for air, though you were positive Eddie had knocked it all out of you with the hardest orgasm you'd probably ever experienced.

A delicate peck met your forehead as he fixed your clothes, his eyes returning to their normal soft shade of red when they met your eyes once again. "Well, that certainly got you to shut up, didn't it?"

With what little strength you had left, your fist smashed into his rock-solid shoulder, somewhere between playful and offended. "Just wait until I remember how to speak. I'm gonna have a few choice words for you," you quipped, heavy breaths escaping in between the words.

That signature devilish smirk you loved tugged at his lips. "I look forward to it… brat."

As with Saturday's, I got a little bit behind on my writing and for that I apologize. My week has been far busier than I anticipated lol. But I hope you guys are having a fun time reading these. I'm at least having a fun time writing them lol. Wishing you all a happy Halloween! I'll see you tomorrow for the final Halloweek fic 🥹

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @esoltis280

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bubuslutty · 1 year ago

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part 8: carpool karaoke

Pairing: platonic moon boys x fem!reader

word count: 897

Tags: reader is referred to darling because i said so (and steven calls her darling cuz he’s a lil british dude innit), some fluff with our boy Jake!!

Warnings: none

Summary: darling stays late to the library and texts jake to come n pick her up

a/n: Nu Nu & You Wish by Flyana Boss

Me: jake

Me: are you done with work?

Jake: yeah why?

Me: are you home?

Jake: not yet

Me: can you pick me up pls?

Jake: where are you?

Me: library

Jake: I’ll be there in 15

Darling waits for Jake in front of the library building, hood pulled over her head and trying to act like a roadman so she won’t get harassed or killed by some stranger in the middle of the night.

When Jake pulls up in his black taxi, she sighs in relief, bag slung over her shoulder and opens the passenger door, getting in and chucking her bag into the back seats.

“How was work?” She asked, turning her head to look at the man, a dark shadow cast over his eyes due to his hat, his gloved fingers resting on the wheel.

“Good, how was studying?” He asked.

“Torture, can I play some music?”

“Sure. Are you hungry?” Jake asked and she paused for a second, “A bit yeah, do you want to go somewhere specific?”

Jake ends up driving them to his favourite Kebab place while Darling sings along to the music playing through the car’s speakers. And Jake bobs his head along the beat, tapping his fingers against the wheel when they’re at a red light while Darling sings her heart out to the cuntiest and girliest song ever, and this time it’s songs from a duo called Flyana Boss.

She even goes as far as to make a whole seated choreography in his passenger seat while he glances at her once in a while, secretly amused. She sure has a lot of energy when she has very visible dark circles and droopy tired eyes, maybe it’s human zoomies or some shit, whatever it is, it gives Jake some entertainment in his otherwise empty cab.

Jake also ends up victim to listening to whatever new music she’s listening to at the moment, gracing his ears with new noises and melodies every other week when he has to drive her somewhere. And sometimes, he adds some of her played songs to his own Spotify playlist, without telling her of course, because that’ll make her ego big for no reason and annoy him.

And when they do get kebabs, they sit at a two-person table, facing each other while eating. And Darling is rambling and babbling about random things, she does that sometimes, if she gets enough tired, she somehow becomes delusional and starts talking with no filter.

Jake doesn’t mind the chatting, he’s just happy to be eating something before passing out in bed to rest. But hanging out with their neighbour is also nice. It was nice to have to listen to another voice other than Khonshu’s or the screams of death and pain in dark hallways.

Jake doesn’t tell her about his job, she knows he’s a cab driver as cover, but has never asked anything about what he actually does. And she’s no dummy, she knows he serves Khonshu’s justice with his fists and a gun strapped up to him at all times.

To put it shortly, he’s quite a grey character while she’s violently colourful.

“Yep, that’s what I’m talking about, yummy in my tummy-” Darling talks to herself and nods while devouring her kebab and shoving chips down her throat.

“Thanks for paying, by the way.” She thanks him without looking up.

“Don’t worry about it, anything for my favourite clown.” Jake teases, taking off his hat and running his hand through his slicked-back hair, white crisp button-up stretching over his broad shoulders, muscled back and biceps.

“Hey!” Darling glares at him and he laughs, “You’re a clown. You sometimes dress like one, and you procrastinate revising for tests and then when they approach, you have a panic attack and Steven has to hold your hand while you revise.”

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m trying!” Darling whines, taking a swing from her Fanta.

“I know,” Jake says, and that’s one of the closest things he can get to as a compliment.

“I’m done, let’s go.” Darling eventually says, slapping her hands on her thighs like a 40-year-old dad and starts cleaning up the table while Jake helps and wears his jacket and hat.

“Cheers, bossman! Good night!” Darling says loudly, giving the man behind the counter a thumbs up and walking out of the door as Jake gives the man a polite nod.

Jake unlocks the cab and goes around to his door, and when he notices her still standing there, he frowns, “What are you doing?”

“Look,” She points at the sky, behind him, and he turns around, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.”

Jake looks up at the sky, free of any clouds and sees the bright moon shining in the middle of the sky, in all of its beautiful glory, “Hm, it’s nice.”

“Jake, whatever you’ve done tonight, you did a good thing. So thank you.” Darling says, voice low, almost a whisper.

Jake doesn’t say anything and keeps staring at the moon, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He shivers and turns to look at her, “Get in, Steven has class tomorrow and so do you.”

“Fine, mum.” Darling groans dramatically and gets in the car, buckling herself in.

“Can I play some mu-”

“Hell nah.”

“Why not? I thought you liked my music?”

“You’ve had your turn, now it’s mine.”

Tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @bobastayhigh @weblesstherains @h-leigh @unspokenmoon @ahookedheroespureheart @thursdaywritings @gebstargeb

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cornerstoreclown · 2 years ago

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Leashed

Summary: This is a short one-shot (3563 words approx.) where the reader (Gender Neutral) has Art on a leash and is riding him. It’s all fun and games here! The reader is AFAB, but their specific sexual bits below the belt are not mentioned in this fic by name. In addition, the reader’s chest is not elaborated on if they have breasts or not. Just wanted to give a heads up as to what is in this so people who sit down and read it know what to expect so that they can assess if this is something they’d like to crack open or not. :)

Warnings/Contents: Light BSDM because Art’s on a leash, some fluff, sex, some... LIGHT ROMANCE?!

Author’s notes: I realize Art’s suit has a zipper in the back and for the sake of this one-shot, he’s got a slightly different costume going on. Because you know what? We deserve clothed sex. And I fully intend on doing more of it in the future. It’s MY kink, and I’m driving this car! This fic really let me write Art a little gentler in comparison to the more intense BDSM one I had initially published. If this one doesn’t speak to you, I’m doing a gender neutral blowjob next. And if you don’t like that, then... I got other stuff still on my queue! It’ll take a little time though, I’m taking a small break after this to recharge.

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You have to admit, Art looked good with a collar and chain leash—just as good as the new costume you got him in. He couldn’t keep wearing the same clown suit over and over again. The new one looks similar to the one he already had, only it came in two pieces versus one. You managed to convince him that he’d need to eventually switch it out every so often. He didn’t have to wear this one as much if he didn’t want to, but at least preserve the original as much as he can. It still had the pom-poms, still had the colors split down the middle and on his sleeves, he still had his cap, hat, and gloves. Same shoes, too. He even has the ruffle around his neck on this one. Art was just a creature of habit, and you understood, you were too and sympathized, but still stressed the importance of having a backup costume.

At least with this outfit, he had pants, which was part of the reason why you were so excited that he finally yielded to the idea. It was so funny, he was pushy for when he wanted something from you, but wasn’t necessarily a fan of when the tables were turned on him. Hypocrite. You’ve pointed that out but he’s only shrugged it off or given you a dismissive wave. He didn’t want to hear it. Never did.

He didn’t have his pants all the way on anyway, it was pulled down just enough to expose his dick. You lack any pants or undergarments yourself, only adorning a plain sweater while you keep his cock between your thighs to keep him warm. He’s partially firm, and you’re sitting atop him. Nothing more, nothing less. It is taking a lot of self control on your part to not just slide him in yourself, but that was part of foreplay, wasn’t it?

“How are you doing? Okay so far?”

Art’s under you, glancing up at you as you’ve got the leash wrapped around your forearm multiple times. You’re not tugging on it too tightly right now. Not yet, anyway. Art’s smile is wide, eagerly nodding his head. He looks quite pleased to be in the position he’s in, and it makes sense. He enjoyed being able to sit back while someone else did all the work. And you are his favorite.

“Good.” You purse your lips and try to fight your lips from turning upward into a grin, but fail. Art looks… cute like this. He looks happy. Giddy, even, moving his head side to side a little while waiting. It’s a little jarring how someone so dangerous is so… innocent in behavior right now.

For as long as you’ve both been together, he’s never once shown signs of wavering interest. Existing was a chore, and no matter what changes to your body you would go through the day to day experiences, whether it be an accidental scar, the change of your hair, any bruises, tattoos, piercings, body shape change, muscle gain or loss, weight gain or loss, and just about anything else you could possibly think of—he was there for you, with you, unrelenting just as he was with his terrorizing humanity every October. To him, you were the epitome of all that he could want, all that he could ask for, and you were wonderful the way you were. You are loyal. You care for him and about him. For a man who sliced people up for fun, he adored the person who inhabited the form you hold. He didn’t have room to judge, anyway. Not that he would. Perhaps that was just another thing you really like about him–he was fairly unbiased.

The bed was comfortable. It was your bed, after all. You weren’t going back to his place, wherever the fuck that was this year. He moves around all the time to keep people off his tail, so it makes sense. However, you liked the comfort of your own space anyway.

“Up.” You tell him, giving a tug on the leash, yanking it back. You’re leaning forward until he props himself up halfway with his elbows, and when the both of you meet, your faces are inches away from each other.

He’s a good listener, you’ll give him that.

His lips are parted, no smile nor frown present as he waits in anticipation for your next move, and you stare into those mesmerizing eyes of his. He’s got the same half lidded gaze as you right now. Up close, he smells distinctly like … a kind of burnt spice, and smoke. Especially smoke. The man often smells like he’s been standing in a firepit half the time when he wasn’t smelling like death itself. It was usually one or the other.

What is he thinking? What goes on behind those eyes of his? You’ll never know. But it’s surreal knowing that you’re this close to a murderer, a man who has killed countless people, possessing such supernatural powers and yet viciously slaughtering them through human means. He could choke you right now. It’d be easy. He could use the leash you are holding and wrap it around your neck and squeeze so hard until your head would feel like it’d pop clean off.

What does he see in you? You don’t know. But you’re not going to question it. Instead, you give into what drives you, and bring your lips to his and close your eyes. You tilt your head a bit because of his nose, and you feel the hot exhale of your breath hit his face and bounce off of him, back onto you. His taste is bitter, and you’re well aware how many would throw up at the thought of kissing this man, but you weren’t like other people. You’re a little fucked up in the head, kind of like Art, but not as severe. That’s why kissing him didn’t bother you, and that’s probably why, now that you think about it, it’s one of the reasons why he likes you. Being nice didn’t solely get you places with Art, you had to have an edge or something for him to bounce off of, and you were rubbery enough in the personality department for him.

His tongue pushes past your lips and you let him, kissing him passionately as you relax and you feel your body temperature rise. He’s exhaling through his nose too, but the heat that hits your face from him is far more intense than yours was earlier, and you start to realize that the reason your body is heating up as fast as it is, is because Art is a furnace. Heat is radiating from him in such a way that you could swear that he’s almost running a light fever, yet he’s not the slightest bit sickly seeming, if you exclude his mental state. He can’t be just a man. He’s some sort of demon, or a demon that’s inhabiting the body of a man, you’re convinced of it. But whatever otherworldly force is within him, you’re getting a taste of it, and it’s potent, and it’s addictive. He’s addictive.

You’re already feeling that familiar wetness between your thighs grow, the gentle throb impossible to ignore. You caress the side of his face mid kiss, and hold onto it still when you pull away, slowly opening your eyes. He didn’t bite your lip this time. He liked to do that a lot. You did tell him you were in charge tonight. He must be committed to being on his best behavior. He was good at roleplay and it made sense–he’s a clown, after all. A performer at heart.

He leans into your touch and you see it in his eyes–that flicker of contentment. Had you blinked, you’d have missed it. You’re not sure if he’s capable of feeling love, but if he were, what you saw would make you believe so.

“You’re being a good boy so far,” You tell him.

He now holds his head high, looking pleased with the praise. You stroke his cheek one last time, then place your hand on his chest, and rest it there. You’re not sure if it’s because of his clothes that are in the way or what, but you take note that you don’t feel his heartbeat. Did he even really have one? You’re not sure, but all the times you have checked in the past, you don’t really remember sending anything. It’s hard to tell if who is beneath you is a man or some sort of entity, but the mystery is and has always been the appeal.

You give him another kiss, savoring the bitterness one more time before using the hand on his chest to push him down flat on his back roughly. Art goes willingly, giving a corrupt grin as he watches you through half lidded eyes. You think for a second he looks a little enamored with you.

And why wouldn’t he be? He finds you attractive and hasn’t shied away from making that explicitly clear in the past. Even during the days you didn’t personally think so, he thought so. He adores you alive as you are now, or even potentially dead in his hands by those homicidal itches that often would leave him daydreaming about breaking your limbs, tearing you to shreds with his own teeth like the animal that he was.

He’s also made certain that you do not forget that he’s a predator, and you’ve only gotten this far because he’s allowed it. Right now, he might be yours, but outside of this roleplay, you’re his. Even in this moment, this dominance is in service to him. For him. It’s what he wanted just as much as you did.

You keep one hand on him for balance as you sit upright.

The way that he watches you seems to have an air of hunger to it, and you aren’t sure if it’s literal or figurative, but you know you like the danger. Swallowing the dry lump in the back of your throat, you gently unwrap the leash off your forearm and set it to the side of you as you lift up the front of your sweatshirt, feeling the cool air hit your bare chest. The contrast between the warmth of your body and the chilly air as fall has set in gives you goosebumps. You feel your nipples go hard and the hair on your arms stand up. You haven’t even gotten the sweatshirt over your head entirely when you sense Art’s hand moving towards you, no doubt for the other end of the leash, and you can hear the chain jingle when he makes contact with it.

“Hey.” You say, and it’s in the tone of a warning. You feel Art’s hand retreat at that once he realizes he’s been caught. When you finally pull your sweater over your head, you toss it off to the side off the bed, where it hits the floor. You take hold of the lead again, wrapping it repeatedly around just your wrist this time. He thought he was being slick and now he’s showing off his impish grin from what he had just attempted.

“Nice try.”

Art extends his hands out now, wiggling his fingers at first in a pretty humorous way before hoping to make contact with you. You take both hands, guiding them to your waist. His nails scrape against your flesh as they drag up and down your sides. Slowly you move your hips, feeling his cock between your legs, using him as a means to stimulate yourself. You empty your lungs in one breath and fill them fully the next, glancing down at him as he’s watching you move atop him. His hands travel upwards to your chest, then back down to your waist, where he gives a squeeze and you give a gentle yelp in response. It was a little rough, but you didn’t mind it. He’s handsy, always has been. And he seems to find your reaction amusing, given his expression right now.

“Funny.” You tell him. His teeth are somewhat visible as he’s having a silent giggle to himself, the wrinkles present at the corner of his eyes from his smile. He really does think he’s hilarious.

The constant contact without penetration leaves you aching and empty, and you can feel the pulse of his cock between your thighs. He wants you just as bad as you want him. And whether by psychic connection or general understanding of being around him long enough, you can sense the slow rising impatience coming from Art. With that in mind, you’re very willing to oblige him with his needs as much as your own. Keeping him entertained was key. No matter how close the both of you were and how you think he might love you, you’re not willing to test how deep that theoretical love runs. That’s a life or death matter you’re not really wanting to explore.

Taking a moment to adjust yourself, you lift yourself just enough so that you can line yourself up on his now erect cock. You lower yourself down on the head, and you hold your breath as you slowly sink down on his entire length, taking him fairly easily, but only because this isn’t your first rodeo with this clown. He feels great inside you, despite being a little big, but you’ve since learned how to take him proper. You were sized for him now. The girth and the way that he stretches you out is what makes you melt each time, and this time was no different. You remember seeing how big he was the first time and not being sure if you could even take it.

“There.” You say, and you see how his eyes have since closed, smile gone, looking a little lost in the feeling of your warmth around him. His jaw is a little slack. You were tight. He loved the way you felt just as you loved the way he did. You begin to move your hips once you think he’s adjusted, keeping a slow and steady pace that’s not too fast.

“Feels good?” You ask him, and he responds with a silent nod, opening his eyes to meet yours, teeth faintly showing in a weaker smile than before.

You lean forward over him a second time as you keep a rhythm, focused on the feeling of the fire slowly rising within you. Your stomach twists as if he’s got his own hand inside your guts when you make eye contact with him, and the feeling of infatuation you have for him is enough to make you physically sick. He’s getting harder, and you’re getting wetter.

You’re staring down at him, and he’s staring up at you, watching your lips and how they’re parted slightly. Slowly, his hand reaches for your face, and you allow that, too. You let his thumb that’s now pressing against your lips slide in your mouth. His finger presses down on your tongue, and you wrap your lips around the digit and sigh. He presses his hand against your face as you nurse his thumb, and he seems thoroughly enthralled by how you’re taking him so sweetly. The only sound you can hear is yourself bouncing on his cock, your own stifled moans, and the jingling of his leash.

Feeling a little devious, you give a playful nip to Art’s finger and let him have his hand back as you sit up again. Both of his hands return to his sides, meanwhile you plant one of yours down on his abdomen, the other bunching up the length of the leash around your wrist entirely so that there’s zero slack to the chain now. Your orgasm is close, and you’re determined to chase it until the very end. He’s since gotten bigger inside of you–he must be close too.

You’ve learned to read his body language over time. The frequency of your intimacy has allowed you to see parts of the Miles County Clown that others would dare never think about, save for the inevitable fucked up few like yourself. You knew how to read his expressions beyond the standard obvious ones that he so energetically emoted—you got him down to the micro expressions, keeping count of any and all ways that the muscles on his face moved, whether it be the twitch of his eye or the slight curve at the corner of his lips. You caught it all. Nothing escaped you. You were the Art Whisperer—a self proclaimed title you gave yourself.

Art looks pained, like he’s in physical agony, as if you’re hurting him. No way that he could ever look so hurt by a weapon in the way that he is now. His head is turned, teeth bared like a feral animal, jaw clenched, eyes shut tight. His hands are balled into fists and you can see the flare of his nostrils from how heavy he’s breathing, and the deep rise and fall of his chest. It’s all something to behold, seeing someone so powerful and evoking the fear of many, stealing the lives of many, succumbing to the most basic drives that bound all living creatures together. He’s vulnerable, and he trusts you to see him in this way as he lets pleasure consume him.

“Come for me.” You tell him—Command him, even, giving a yank of his chain, and it’s like a domino effect. Art arches his back a bit, jaw opening wider as you see his teeth, though only briefly for a second, look more like the canines of a beast, the demon beneath you at your mercy as he surrenders silently. You feel a little satisfaction in that, but it doesn’t get to live long. Seeing him in this way makes you recognize the familiar creeping sensation that ambushes you.

His climax triggers your own, and your eyes almost roll back while your toes curl as you feel light and detached from your body. Whatever connection you have with this plane is severed in these fleeting moments, and behind closed eyes you see it, briefly in flashes. Flames. An inferno of fire and contorted demonic forms without any distinct visual appearance, cascades of bodies, blood, and jagged rocks. One of the flames hovers over you, and before you’re able to react, it falls down upon you.

The flames crash into your chest with the force of an ocean wave, nearly knocking you over as it nestles in your core before deviating outwards to your spine to reach your toes and fingertips. For those few seconds, you feel like you’re on fire and sparks are flying everywhere. Oddly enough, it doesn’t hurt, but it does leave you feeling overheated one second, then frigid the next when it fades. Then, you’re brought back into yourself, back in your bedroom, overtop of your clown companion, feeling immediately spent.

Overwhelmed and delicate, you gently collapse overtop of Art, whose arms wrap around you protectively, keeping you from harm. The way he’s enveloped around you could be a bit concerning given how tight his grip is right now, and how he could crush you to death if he wanted, but for now, the security of his warm embrace is comforting. Gradually, your senses flitter back to you, and the images of what you saw during your climax lingers in your thoughts.

Was he the reason for those visions? You can only assume so.

As you shift a bit in his hold, you take notice of the warmth of his release and how he’s filled you quite generously. You can feel some of it already leaking out when you disconnect from him, which he allows by loosening up his hold on you, so you can lay over top of him properly to rest. When you’re in your preferred spot, his arms return around you. It’s a beautiful physical union you both have, and you’d have liked to keep it as long as possible, but sleep is calling your name, and she’s got the most seductive voice. You’d like to be as comfortable as possible when you greet her. You unwrap your hold of the lead while you’re at it.

“I love you,” You mumble tiredly, and you’ve told him this before, but it’s always been worth repeating. Though you don’t see his face as your head is nestled against his chest, you feel the way he’s now rubbing circles on your back, and can tell that he’s satiated just as much as you are.

Fatigue works its way over you, and you feel the world around you begin to fade away. Your muscles relax, as does your breathing, and you eventually slip into that delightful state of unconsciousness.

Even in your dreams, you cannot escape Art. He’s there with you amid a place full of flames and fire, and when you extend your hand out for him, you have nails like claws, perfect for tearing and shredding. When he smiles at you, you smile back at him. You watch him through red eyes. Your skin is white, pale like a corpse, and your face is painted up quite similar to his.

Both of you are donning black and white.

And as you sleep, you are positively beaming.

#art the clown x you #art the clown x reader #art the clown #terrifier #coulrophilia #slasher x you #slasher x reader #minors DNI #long post #I have stared at this fic for ... 4 hours. If there's any errors I'm just going to fix them tomorrow #I'm pressing post and running away because if I don't post it I never will #HRNNGHUGHHHHNNN #canon x reader

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racefortheironthrone · 1 year ago

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How would you characterize Ziggy from the Wire? After several rewatches he's probably the character I've changed my mind the most about. The man is a goof, but he's not exactly dumb. Reckless, misguided and desperate for approval in a class clown way, but he was pretty smart when come to down business with the cameras and how to steal the cars.

Fucking Ziggy, man. Often dismissed, frequent target of ire from the fandom, and yet...I absolutely understand what the writers were doing with this character and I think that in his own way, Ziggy is one of the most poignant tragedies in Season 2.

Because the thing about Ziggy is how close he is to escaping the downward gyre and yet his ultimate fate is completely unavoidable, given his circumstances. As you say, Ziggy isn't dumb - unlike most of the dockers, he knows how to use computers and other tech, he's been to community college, he's wired into current events. If he was less of a self-destructive fuckup, and if he wasn't a Sobatka, you could imagine him eventually getting a white collar office job and being able to afford an apartment out in the county, settle down and start a family, and live a very comfortable white middle class suburban existence.

But unfortunately, Ziggy is a self-destructive fuckup and he is a Sobatka, and those things are very much related.

See, the problem is that Ziggy adores the social world of the longshoremen, the premorning drink at the local's bar, the nicknames and the stories, the historical memories - hence his whole conversation with his dad about "back in the day" - and he wants nothing more to be one of the guys. And at moments in the bar, you can even see that he's got a kind of charisma that the other dockers can respond to, he can be the fun guy at the party.

But the problem is that Ziggy just isn't cut out for that world and the longshoremen can sense it. He doesn't have the work ethic for it, he doesn't pay attention and gets bored too easily and would rather run some get-rich-quick-scheme than take an extra shift. He doesn't have either the physicality to pull off the macho shit that's always been a big part of longshoremen culture, or the interior sense of self-worth that would allow him to laugh off jokes at his expense, which is absolutely vital for a work culture where a big part of everyone breaking each other's balls all the time is the social contract that you have to take as well as you can give.

But because he feels this pressure to live up to the standards of his father and the Sobatkas before him, he won't leave. Instead, he develops some really unhealthy social tendencies. The first of which is that he's a relentless showoff, trying to make up for his personal deficiencies by driving a classic muscle car that's supposed to make you a Real Man like in the movies, or a fancy leather coat when everyone else is wearing hard-wearing work clothes - and this prompts his hapless feud with Maui, who has no patience for this kind of display. And because Ziggy's ego is both incredibly large and extremely brittle, he reacts to every putdown and social setback like it's the end of the fucking world.

The second one is that he becomes a class clown. He starts out as the fun guy at the party, but he's a complete addict to positive attention, so he doesn't know when to stop. He keeps the joke going long after it's stopped being funny, he keeps drinking after he's reached the fun drunk phase until he gets completely sloppy and starts taking his dick out - because the fact that he's got a big dick is one of the few areas in which he measures up to conventional masculinity, so why not show it off?

And all this would add up to a life of quiet desperation, if it weren't for the fact that Ziggy gets involved in crime. The allure is quite tempting; it absolutely fits into his get-rich-quick, self-worth-through-possession mentality, and it's this entirely different cultural world of machismo that he can try to flourish in. But the same problems that he faced within the Local reassert themselves out on the streets.

The corner boys, black and white, sense that Ziggy is weak - that he can't handle himself in confrontations - and when he comes to them to sell the drugs he's bought on credit, they rip him off with the barest pretense. And pretty soon he's in debt to people who aren't going to put up with his bullshit and they start putting the loanshark's squeeze on him. Even when Nick solves his problems, this only makes matters worse because it only highlights that Nick can manage himself on the corners in a way that Ziggy can't.

And thus Ziggy starts getting more and more self-destructive - he starts ripping off bigger and bigger-ticket items off the ships, the kind of expensive merchandise that will bring heat down on the port and the Local, because the suits notice a whole bunch of cars or high-end digital cameras going missing in a way that they won't a few cases of booze. He takes that stolen merchandise to the Greek's people, but because he's a class clown who doesn't engender respect, they decide to short-change him. And Ziggy has decided to prop up his ego by buying a gun, and the rest is history.

#the wire #season 2 #ziggy sobatka

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bengiyo · 1 year ago

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Laws of Attraction Eps 1 and 2 Stray Thoughts

For @lurkingteapot, @negrowhat, and @troubled-mind, here are some highlights from the voice recordings Bestie and I sent to the chat while we were watching the first two episodes.

Episode 1

Ben: They were death-flagging on this child, so David and I decided to take the over-under on how long it would take this child to die. We gave it five minutes. So, two minutes later.... David: They ran over that child like Wile E. Coyote!

David: I can't go to Thailand. Ben: I'm scared! I'm really scared!

Ben: I'm so excited. This is giving everything. We got a kid run over by a car after death flagging six different ways, and David's like that list better not be in that bag! Cuts to the bag. The list is covered in blood. David: This is a Mexican telenovela!!

Episode 2

Ben: Let's talk about this sandwich. This man put all this presentation into a single sandwich, which he cut in half! Then split between the two of them, garnished with a piece of lettuce, a slice of tomato, and a ton of onion....along with some orange juice from concentrate?? With bread that looks like it was burnt to within in inch of its life on a George Foreman Grill..... This man is insane.... Like we already knew that. This man is as insane as Bill in Kill Bill 2 using a whole chef's knife to spread mayonnaise on a sandwich.

Ben: Okay, David, you were correct. I'll give you a Clowned Correctly award. David said that that man is not touching him because he's insane and he absolutely wants that man to want him when he finally fucks him. I love it though! He's like, "You were drunk, and you puked on yourself. So I removed your clothes to clean you up, and lusted. I sure did! But I didn't touch you! Because that would get me 4-20 year in prison. And they're not gonna have my ruffles and bubble baths in prison." David: "I'm a not-so-secret luxurious bitch. I don't DO cells." Ben: This high sadity mofo's like, "Uh-uh. But! Since you're sober now!" David: "Let's talk!!" Ben: I love this man. David: "Good! What's really good?"

Ben: Not this man getting out of this car... David: With the gayest shirt! Ben: What the fuck is going on with this collar and these overlong goddamn sleeves? This man is a menace. David: This is giving, "Give me shirt but also a Faustian nightmare." Ben: He looks like someone just popped a can of cinnamon rolls. David: I can't want more for you than you want for yourself. Ben: I...am overdone...with this show... David: And not champagne colored! You're a gay man! You know better! Ben: Look how it's sitting on his shoulders! This is a travesty!

Ben: I know we comment on how unhinged this man is in every scene, but why is he taking the One Ring to Mordor as well?

Ben: This is the least insane he's looked in this show, and that's saying something. We've been here for nine hours.

Ben: I see why @ginnymoonbeam said this show might be for the KinnPorsche enjoyers because this is now the next show where we've watched a father slap his son in the most bitchless way possible. David: Slaps always come in threes! The first is your first salvo. The second, this time, is aiming to fuck up some real estate. The third is the disrespect.

David: They clearly defined her relationship with her employees. They are not afraid of her. If these are hoes, they feel taken care of. Ben: I don't know what the relationship is between Organ and Silvy's characters, but I hope we get to see them fuck on screen. David: If we don't, why am I here? I require women doing filthy shit to each other. I can get BL anywhere. I came to see women doing shameful things with each other. I came here for Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon in Bound. I did not come here for the Bridges of Madison County. Ben: Girl you ain't never lie!

David: I'm here for this. The unapologetic sissiness is what I live for. He had me when he pulled out that little gun. "Now, I can date you, but I can also put you down like a dog." You know there's nothing I love more than Gays With Guns. Look at God. Won't he do it. Ben: God had nothing to do with iQIYI.

#laws of attraction #laws of attraction meta #thai drama #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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lilac-hecox · 1 year ago

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oooh as we're manifesting it - ianthony + haunted house as a prompt??? 👀👀 we all know i Love a haunted house fic. also i will be sending a couple of these only do what you want / what inspires in you xoxo ly - katie

Ian/Anthony - Haunted House

Every year Ian and Anthony’s high school always puts on a haunted house at the school to raise money for some benefit or fund. It feels like they are constantly raising money and Ian can never keep up with which fundraiser he’s supposed to be showing his parents. This year, the funds for the haunted house are going towards the athletic department, which includes the cross-country team, and Ian’s coach had strongly encouraged the members of the team to go.

Honestly, if it had only been for cross-country, no way in hell would Ian be standing in the bustling hallway of his high school waiting to go through a damn haunted hallway. It sounds lame, but it’s become a school tradition, and each year the seniors always want to out-do the year before them, always angling to be the haunted hallway that gets talked about for years to come, so, needless to say, they really pull out all the stops, and even more needless to say, Ian is a chicken-shit.

So, why is Ian here if not for cross-country? It’s very simple. He’s here for Anthony. Ian’s here because Anthony wanted to come, and where you find Anthony, you could usually always find Ian. Anthony bounces on his heels and grins excitedly, way too excitedly in Ian’s opinion.

“Don’t look so pissed,” Anthony says, nudging Ian in the side with his elbow. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

“Dude, remember last year? That freaky kid who knew how to ride a unicycle chased someone all the way back to their car!”

“Okay,” Anthony says, “but you’re not scared of unicycles.”

“I’m scared of dudes dressed as a crazed killer clown chasing me through the parking lot.”

“You do cross-country, you know you could outrun a unicycle. You’re fast as hell, dude.”

Ian flushes at the compliment, but his fear doesn’t let him think on it for long. The line inches forward and he and Anthony are dangerously close to being the next pair to go through.

“You’re keeping up your end of the deal, right?” Ian asks, poking at Anthony’s chest.

Anthony rubs the spot Ian poked and rolls his eyes, “Dude, yes. You go through the haunted hallway with me, and I’ll buy us a pizza afterwards.”

“And breadsticks.”

“Ian,” Anthony says, annoyed.

“Fine, a Coke?”

Anthony offers his hand, “Deal.”

Ian takes it and they shake on it. By the time they are done with their deal, the line has shifted again, and Mrs. Girard holds her hand out to take each of their five-dollar bills. Then, Ian hangs back, letting Anthony lead the way through the dark tarp strung across the hallway that signals the entrance to the haunted hallway.

It’s already too dark and Ian feels his heart speed up in his chest. He knows it’s lame to be fourteen and afraid of a stupid haunted house at their school, but he can’t see shit, and he can barely sense Anthony in front of him.

“Anthony?” Ian whispers.

“I’m right here,” Anthony mumbles back.

They walk past a classroom and Ian notices too late that the door is ajar.

Before either of them knows it, a huge figure with a glowing mask proceeds to lunge out of the darkness of the classroom at them. Ian shrieks at the top of his lungs and Anthony giggles as he makes a scared yelp.

Ian’s heart races and they keep walking, there’s a flickering light up ahead, and as he and Anthony approach it, clanging is heard around them, each metallic bang makes Ian jump. They round a corner, and someone jumps out of a trash can and screams at them.

Again, Ian screams, but this time he grabs on to Anthony’s shoulders, pressing his face into Anthony’s back.

“Dude!” Anthony says, laughing breathlessly, though he sounds like he might have gotten scared too. “You’re okay, Ian. Chill out.”

In the distance, Ian begins to hear circus music playing. He freezes up, reaching out to grab Anthony’s arm.

“Huh?”

“I can’t…” Ian mumbles.

“What?”

“There’s going to be, like, a freaking clown in there or something!” Ian hisses.

It made him feel like a little kid, but he was terrified of clowns, at least right now, and Ian can’t fathom coming face-to-face with one here, even if Anthony is with him.

“It’ll be fine, come on, the quicker we go, the quicker we’ll be done, right?”

Ian can’t argue with that logic, but the ball of nerves in his stomach is tight as they walk forward, the music getting louder around them. A classroom door is open and an orangey colored light spills out into the hallway. The two best friends stop in front of the door and Ian is taken aback. The whole inside of the classroom has been made over to look like a circus tent, he doesn’t even see any desks or remnants of what the classroom would normally look like.

“I don’t see anything?” Anthony says, and then, Ian is horrified to see him step into the room.

“Anthony! Don’t go in there!” Ian says sharply.

“I just wanna see. You don’t have to.”

Ian glances around. He’s stuck between standing in the pitch-black hallway alone or following Anthony into the circus room. He sighs as he follows his best friend. The room appears empty, but the music is loud. Ian scans the room, and just as he starts to calm down, the door behind them swings shut.

Ian whips around and sees a huge clown standing there, a deranged painted smile on his face, as he holds a few scraggly balloons.

Ian screeches at the top of his lungs and before he even realizes it, he’s grabbed Anthony’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He’s also shut his eyes, accepting a painful clown-related death. Ian feels Anthony tugging him, their hands linked, and he feels Anthony pulling him back through the door and into the hallway.

Back in the darkness, Ian is breathing heavily, and he can hear Anthony’s breath the same. It takes him a moment to notice that they are still holding hands. They’ve never done this before, but it’s comforting, and Ian really doesn’t want to let go. He can’t see Anthony’s face in the darkness of the hallway, but he feels when Anthony tugs him forward to keep walking, seemingly alright with holding hands.

Ian feels his face getting hot in a blush. Why was Anthony letting him hold his hand? Why wasn’t he calling him a pussy and shaking him off? Now, Ian was scared again, but it had nothing to do with the haunted house this time.

He and Anthony hold hands for the rest of the haunted house, it’s somehow easier to finish it that way, Ian can’t bring himself to be quite as scared as he had before. Once they are nearing the end, where they can hear other people laughing and being loud. Ian doesn’t ask, neither of them talk, but their hands fall away from each other. Ian instantly misses the warmth, the slight roughness of Anthony’s palm against his own.

Anthony pushes through the door that leads them to the parking lot.

“See?” Anthony finally says, his face illuminated under one of the streetlights in the school’s parking lot. “No unicycles to be found.”

“Yeah,” Ian says, though it was the last thing on his mind.

Anthony looks at his feet before looking at Ian. There is one quiet second where Ian thinks maybe one of them should say something, but neither of them do.

“So, you wanna go get that pizza?” Anthony asks.

“Oh, yeah, all that screaming made me hungry,” Ian says, laughing. Anthony laughs too.

The pizza place is a ten-minute walk from their high school. They set off on foot together, Anthony with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and Ian’s nervously hanging at his sides. There is another silence, something thicker than before. Ian’s aware that once they get a few blocks away they will be alone again, in semi-darkness, and he feels a small tingle of wonder on if maybe they will holds hands again.

“My Coke too,” Ian says belatedly, breaking the silence between them.

“Huh?” Anthony asks, like he was a million miles away.

“You said you’d buy me a Coke too.”

“Oh, right, you got it. I did force you into a haunted house where you screamed like a sissy half the time.”

Ian grins, “Shut up, dick.”

#ianthony #polysmosh #smoshships #fluff #teenaged ianthony #hand holding #based on me holding a strangers hand at the haunted house out of sheer delirious fear #my writing #my fics #my fic #prompts #spooky prompts

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whoblewboobear · 3 months ago

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Thinking more about the perv!gamer sb au and I think it would be very funny if the ex Jace shit talks constantly is also Jace’s shitty roommate that has to listen to him jerk off through the wall with Some Guy™️ Jace met while gaming.

So after these clowns realize that they’ve lived in the same city this entire time, Jace brings Porter home and his roommate/ex is just like “👀 So this is the asshole you broke up with me for? From your little game?” Porter is ?? Bc JACE said his bf broke up with him.

Jace- I like making Freem the ex bc it’s funny. But for the added level of drama, they both teach at the same school, Jace was fairly new and entered something so messy and toxic with Evan to the point that they’re fighting and screaming in the hallway during school hours. They’ve been called into the vice principal’s office and reprimanded by gilear so many times. Every single time Jace cries and says he doesn’t like to bring their problems to work but Evan is just so mean to him. (Freem isn’t mean to him, he’s normal and Jace is nuts but the dick is good so he stays. Also they don’t make enough to live separately right now and he hates it)

Eventually Freem is like “Jace I swear to god you have to stop picking fights before we both get fucking FIRED. I’ll break up with you if you don’t stop.” Jace stops but he doesn’t like being told what to do so ofc he starts flirting with the first guy that yells back at him when they’re gaming. He’s addicted to the toxicity.

When Porter accepted his friend request he sent a lil “<3” and immediately broke up with Freem the next morning over breakfast. Right before work bc he has no decorum or tact. Not that he cares at all, he’s asking Porter to FaceTime and watch him get off in his lil gamer chair that night.

Porter is- he’s a lil distraught by the revelation when Evan starts telling him how much of a disaster Jace is. And Porter works in a library, he likes his quiet life for the most part. He gets a lil rowdy at the gym or when he goes out to bars, but mostly while gaming. And Jace is so hot he doesn’t really care if he’s a whirlwind, the sex is incredible.

Jace tries to pick fights with him and honestly? It’s hot. It’s like foreplay to them. They’ll go out to dinner and Jace is like “why are you staring at the waiter’s ass 👀” Porter wasn’t, but he knows what Jace is trying to do, so he plays into it. “Just appreciating what you don’t have.” They don’t even get their order taken by the time Jace is getting pounded by Porter in the alley next to the restaurant. The car was closer, they really should be in the car but Jace likes the way the hard brick feels against his face where Porter has him pinned, whispering all these filthy things into his ear about how much of a whore and a bitch he is. Jace is loving it.

Evan never fucked him like this. Crosses his mind before Porter hits that sweet spot and makes him fall apart on his cock. He’s pretty sure he’s crying and screaming by the time an officer flashes a light down the alley way and asks what’s going on. Porter pulls out and Jace turns invisible and misty steps into the car to leave Porter to deal with it. Porter who is standing there with his dick out and definitely didn’t finish yet peering back at this cop that his boyfriend left him to deal with.

Because his new boyfriend is an asshole and a psycho.

#smut under the cut as per usual 💖#my sister and niece are coming over soon I gotta get up lmaoooo but here I am writing about toxic!Jace #toxic Jace ilyyyyy #gamer au ilyyyyy #Porter gets out of it but he is embarrassed #deeeply embarrassed #he teaches Jace a lesson by not feeding into his shit for an entire month until Jace is nice and docile #he does end up mellowing out at bit but he’s still messy #starbreaker #nsft #blewb rambles

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theoceantot · 1 year ago

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Here Now

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒏 𝒙 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒓)

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞- 1-3

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫- 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰- 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧

After the events of season 1. Harley Quinn found you on the streets of Arkham trying to scrounge up as much food and water as you could. She at first payed no mind to it thinking you were just another average person that got fucked over from everything Joker did but when she examined you more she saw the red pacifier in your backpack pocket.

Harley offered to take her in and be her temporary caregiver and let the girl come with her to get a nice meal and a place to stay. The little just craving a mother figure and to be out of the scary streets accepted her offer without a second thought. Everyone seemed to love their new addition and promised to protect her. Harley didn't even have to tell everyone she was a little because Psycho (Being the snoopy bitch he is) read her mind and picked up on things like.

'𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑚𝑎 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ'

'𝑀𝑎𝑚𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒'𝑑 𝑔𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝑛𝑖 𝑛𝑖'

Psycho told everyone before Harley and Y/n could which made the clown queen of crime mad but it didn't last long as she saw everyone was doing a part in taking care of her now. Clay face did cute puppet shows for you, king shark pirated any movie/show from the internet you wanted, and Psycho let you watch TV with him.

So that's how it all started. Now THIS is where it's at now.

"MAMA!"

You banged on the bars to the cell hoping and praying your mama would come and save you. Big you knew that she couldn't due to being trapped in a block of ice. Little you still believed she would come. How wrong you were. Two face and Penguin thought it was amusing and even pretened that they were getting beat by Harley to see the tears form on your eyes when you saw Harley wasn't there to save you.

Freeze and Bane felt bad for you though. They both knew what age regression was and figured out very quickly you were a regressor by how you couldn't form proper sentences and sucked your thumb when you slept on the dirty mattress in the corner of the cell. You were just a scared baby that missed her mama and that broke their dark hearts.

After Two Face scared you awake and left you crying in the corner, Freeze came in shortly after with a stuffed red bear and a black pacifier. You looked at the villian in confusion curious as to why he was helping you especially with your little space. He opened your cell and sat on the ground in front of you and set the little items down waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to take them.

After 10 minutes you cautiously picker up the bear and put the paci in your mouth. Y/n crawled forward giving the cold man a big hug.

"You're welcome little one. I'll tell those cretins to leave you alone or they'll be dire consequences"

The rest of the month you were there Mr Freeze he took care of you when two face and Penguin left. Mr Freeze was getting more sick of his "companions" every time they bullied you and one day he had enough. So when Penguin took Ice Block Harley to his club Mr Freeze swiped the key from his desk and let you free.

"I'll escort you home little one" Freeze smiled and opened the door to your cell. Your eyes shined so bright like you've been waiting centuries to be free. Freeze picked you up and grabbed the couple little items you hid under the worn out pillow you slept on. He layed you in the backseat of his car and gave you your paci to suck on and your stuffy to cuddle with. 30 minutes later he pulled up to the "abandoned" dirty mall. He wished you didn't have to live in these conditions but you were happy and protected so he didn't protest. You fell asleep halfway there so Freeze had to carry you inside where he saw Harley freaking out while the crew and Ivy tried calming her down.

"WHY ARE WE STILL SITTING AROUND WE NEED TO FIND MY BABY BEFORE THEY DO SOMETHING TERRIBLE TO HER WHAT IF THEY ALREADY DID?!" Harley was so scared for you. If they hurt you she'd never be able to forgive herself.

All of them turned their heads to see Freeze standing in the entrance you sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. Harley was about to shout but Freeze put a finger over his lips signals for her to be quiet him not wanting her to wake you.

Freeze layed you on the couch and covered you with a nearby blanket. "Why are you helping her?? Weren't you the one who froze me in A BLOCK OF-"

She stopped when she saw you whining and stirring in your sleep. Freeze sighed. "I never wanted to hurt her neither did Bane. I knew almost instantly she was a little and that I needed to protect her. I'm sorry for everything Ms Quinn"

"Well since you brought her back and protected her i guess I'll forgive you for turning me into a damn popsicle. But don't think we're friends"

After about 20 minutes your eyes began to flutter open. Rubbing your eyes sleepily and doing a soft yawn alerted your Mama who was discussing her plans to take revenge on the assholes who took you and take over Gotham.

"How're you feeling puddin?" Harley asked as she held you.

"M-mama" the stress over these past months caused you to break down into tears. Harley hugged you close and rubbed soft circles on your back. You wanted to tell her all the things they did to you and how much you missed her but you were too small to hardly even speak her name.

"𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒊𝒔𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕?

𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆? 𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌

𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔

𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈"

Harley sung one of your favorite Disney princess songs hoping to calm you down. The more she sang the more your cries died down until you were looking up at her with tear stained eyes smiling softly. Harley was surprisingly a decent singer when she sung for her baby.

"See baby there's nothing to cry over. You're home with mama, aunty Ivy, your uncles, and Psycho"

"Fuck you Harley"

A small giggle left your lips knowing she was right. They all loved and cared about you so much. Especially your mentally unstable mama.

#fandom agere #little space #agere #agerereader #little!reader #dcagere #harleyquinnagere #age regression

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fineprintedsunsets · 1 year ago

Text

FREAK SHOW

circus au

Synopsis: Even the strongest people need a bit of comfort

Word Count: 680

!Trigger Warnings! - (this was so fucking last minute, likeeee.) mentions of trauma. short asf. comfort. kidnapping? Forced into an evil circus? (That's a warning you don't see every day.) (this one been sitting in the drafts, but i had to post for #hauntedhoedown)

I notice him the second he steps foot in the limelight. He looks like a man carved out of stone, his features beautifully symmetrical. His muscled arms, his bare torso.

Why is he here though? With the rest of the oddities we call “freaks?” He turns toward the crowd, his eyes piercing and unforgiving. I see it then, his left arm is replaced with a hunk of metal, painted to match the big-tops colors.

“Who is that?” I seem to ask, looking over at my companions, my two best friends. They chew on their own snacks, not hearing me over the loud circus music.

Clowns juggle in front of me, but my attention isn't on them. It’s not on the obnoxious crowd either. It’s on the man holding up a car with a single arm, all five fingers splayed under the metal framing.

His eyes are distant, never focussing on the roaring people. The ringer master's voice booms through the speakers, the performers continuing their acts.

“Welcome, Welcome!” The man utters, his voice loud and proud. Amaris and Baird smile, looking at me with proud laughs.

“Ladies and Gentleman, Clowns and Bears. Freaks alike! Welcome to the Big Top!”

The crowd echoes, shouting their encouragement as the man tips his hat in response. I stay still, still focused on the man holding up the broken-down car.

“We have plenty of freakish acts for you tonight, featuring our dancing bears, our tightrope walkers, our contortionist, and last but not least, Our strong man!”.

I sigh sinking further into our bleacher seats. Something about this is odd, and I don’t like it. The feeling of something in the air, the wisp of something sinister. I have to sit and watch for now, but believe me,

I will find out who he is.

My popcorn is running low. Not that any of the acts these “freaks” engage in are entertaining, but I needed something to crunch on to prevent my screaming. I’ve never liked circus acts, and I’m not sure why my friends thought I would, but here we are.

Here I am, anyway. At the popcorn booth, being told to ‘hold on a moment’ while they gave me another scoop of butter, per my request, It was far too dry last time.

A loud sniffling pulls my attention away, I can see inside a large tent stationed next to the snack stand, the sound of the repeating noises brings my attention away from the back of my accessor completely.

I’m far too curious now. The loud call of the crowd races behind me, but I slip into the tent, my breath is taken away but the sight in front of me.

The same man from earlier.

“The Strong Man”

I reach forward, almost on impulse running my hands through his shoulder-length hair. His eyes stay in their place, staring forward, looking distant. I gasped when his metal fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping my touching.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice cold.

“I-” I’m speechless, maybe because of shock, or perhaps it’s due to the fact the strong man is cutting off my circulation.

“I heard you.”

“You heard nothing.” He bites, swiping at his cheeks. I know he’s trying to hide his tears, it only breaks my heart that much more.

I smile as he lets my wrist go, blood pumping through my veins again.

“That’s condescending”. I respond, taking my time to look around the big-top tent. It’s plain, with a small couch and some boxes of circus props. The crowd bellows from outside as the ringmaster shouts orders.

“No, it’s not.” He bites, his stone eyes roaming my features. He sniffles, making it that much more obvious he’s upset. I don’t think, I just act. I reach my arms around the strong man, my breath heaving as nervousness sets in.

What if he pushes me away?

Except he doesn't, he wraps his metal arm around my waist, bringing my body to his. The circus melts away as I melt into him.

Even the strongest people need comfort.

#masterlist #fanfic #marvel #oneshot #smut #fluff #buckbarnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x reader

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lostfirefly · 9 months ago

Text

Life Must Have It's Mysteries (Ch.5)

Nobody asked me, but the thought of sending my beloved couple on a new journey didn't let me go. Welcome to a new adventure! No idea how many chapters there will be :) Pain continues leading me to art :)

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) Masterlist is here.

Description: Buggy and Catherine reach their first goal!

Warnings: Fun, fluff, adventure! Shitty shit again:)

Words: 7743 (sorry, this chapter is so long! i promise no to do this again!)

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august, @rorywritesjunk, @yujo-nishimura (I hope you still like it!)

The title is taken from “Life Must Have It's Mysteries” by Hans Zimmer (OST Inferno).

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“I might wake up all the mummies because of you.” Catherine was pulling on her underwear and jeans while lying under the plaid.

“That was so good, my Cathie-pie, right? Rough and good.” Buggy grinned, pulling her closer to him and whispered in her ear. His makeup was smeared. “I love the sounds you make when I'm in control.”

“For God's sake, Buggy, get dressed! You're naked!” She slapped his hands, barely reached his t-shirt, and threw it in his face.

“Oh! I love it when my baby gets angry, it means she had a good time during the night!” He pressed Catherine to his chest.

“I hate you! And your chop chop shit!” She covered her face with her hands.

“Geeez! You'd think I’d have forced you. By the way, you initiated it.” He pointed at her with his index finger.

“It's not me. It's your fault! And the fault of those stupid stars and pyramids!” Catherine took her hands away from her face.

“It's always my fault, ok! You always blame me for everything.”

“You always blame me for everything.” Catherine repeated his words mockingly, looking around for the rest of her clothes. “Oh, my t-shirt! Turn around, fucking clown!”

“God, what I didn't see there. Even now, I can see my marks on you. Here, here and here.” Buggy touched his fingers to her neck, shoulders, and breasts. “I'm not even talking about your face.”

“Shut up! Or I’m gonna punch you!” Catherine pulled up her t-shirt and sat down on the sand, her back to him.

“Come on, cotton candy! Don't be mad!” Buggy put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him.

“What the fuck?! Let me go!” Catherine started squealing.

“No! I wanna lie down for ten more minutes with my girl before we go on our way.”

“Oh, screw you!” She pressed her back against his chest and took his hand. “I really don’t understand how you do this. And why do I always give in.” She began to run her thumb over his knuckles.

“Someone told me you love me.” Buggy said quietly, stroking her hands.

“It was me, idiot! I tell you this every fucking day! But yes, there is such a nuisance.” Catherine carefully extended her hand to the side. “My silly clown…”

“I’m listening, my Cathie-pie.”

“Put your pants on!” She threw his jeans at him, jumped up from the ground and ran towards the car.

“Fuck, Catherine! Are you crazy?” Buggy yelled.

“What happened?” She stopped between the car and him.

“You hit me in the eye with my pants! Shit!” He sat on the ground, covering his eye with his hand.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” Catherine ran back to him, then stopped between him and the car, and ran to the car, then she stopped again and ran back to him.

“Maybe you'll stop running back and forth like you've been stung in the ass? Damn!” Buggy took his hand away.

“I’m so sorry!” She ran to him, sat on her knees and began to examine his face. “Lemme see! Shit! Your eye is red.”

“Fuck you, honestly!” He barked.

“Sit here.” Catherine ran for a first aid kit and came back.

“Don't touch me. I’m afraid you'll throw something at me again.” Buggy reached for the bag, but she snatched it from his hands.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't do it on purpose, really. I was aiming for your body, to be honest.” Catherine laughed, applying the medicine into his eye. “You'll live, my love! How can I make it up to you?”

“Next time you want to throw something at me, give me a heads-up, I might be able to split up in time.” Buggy blinked one eye.

Catherine laughed out loud. “You're my lovely flashy fool.” She hugged him and kissed his cheeks. “My Buggy Bear…”

“I’m listening, my Cathie-pie.”

“First, stop grabbing my ass. Second, please, get dressed, you're still naked under the plaid.”

“Give me five minutes. I'm traumatized by what happened. I need time to recover.” She felt how he squeezed her buttocks.

Finally Buggy got dressed, got up off the ground, and helped Catherine pack. While she wiped the traces of his lipstick off her body and changed into a gray t-shirt and black overalls, he sat in the front seat of the car and started applying fresh makeup.

“Can I help you?” Catherine leaned across the driver's seat.

“No, I've got my own system.” Buggy looked her over. “Holy Gosh, you look like a gardener in those overalls.”

“Go to hell, honestly.”

Catherine sat on the ground and watched with interest as he rummaged through his makeup bag for brushes, then dipped them into the shades and applied them to his eyelids.

“What?” Buggy glanced at Catherine, sweeping the brush over the eye shadows.

“Nothing. It's just so funny. I don't have any makeup at all, and you have a lot of it.” She put her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hands, and smiled widely.

“Screw you!” He continued to move the brush over his eyelids.

He spent an hour putting on makeup and took out lipstick. Buggy opened it and applied to his lips. He was going to smear it around his mouth.

“Oh, wait-wait-wait!” Catherine jumped up from the ground, quickly ran up to him, turned his face to her and smashed her lips into his. She kissed him long and tenderly.

“There! That's better now!” She said, breaking the kiss and ran the back of her palm over her lips, wiping away the lipstick.

Buggy looked in the front view mirror. “You know, now I almost forgive you for the eye.”

“I’m so honored to hear that!” Catherine stuck her head out of the car, hitting it against the door. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay?”

“You're a bad influence on me, clown. I'm becoming clumsy.”

“I’m not clumsy! Stop talking and get your ass in the car!”

Catherine took her seat, examined his eye again and with the words “still a little red,” she reached into the back seat for the cap, put it on his head and straightened his ponytail.

“Let's go, my pie!” Buggy started the car, put his left hand on the steering wheel, his right hand on Catherine's thigh and pressed the gas pedal.

They drove through the endless expanses of the desert. It seemed like there was no end to the sands. Catherine periodically asked to stop the car to look at the surrounding beauty, and even persuaded Buggy to take one selfie together. He was very shy to be photographed, but Catherine convinced him. She wanted to leave some memories of their first trip together.

“So. And where are we now?” Buggy asked, pressing the brakes near a cafe.

“Judging by the map and records, you and I reached the city called Drum Island.” She narrowed her eyes, rolling down the car door window. “Why are there such strange city names? Why is the city an island? Nonsense.”

“Ask your Egyptians. Where do we go next?” He leaned closer to Catherine, looking at her notebook.

“Actually, the first pyramid that's supposed to have the first part of the scepter is an two from here. But can we go to the coffee shop first? To tell the truth, I want coffee. Catherine looked at him with pleading eyes.

“That one?” Buggy pointed his finger at the small red and black building. "Maybe we can find another cafe?"

“I’m sorry, my love. But I need to.. use a special room.” Catherine blushed.

“Alright!” He exhaled, and they both got out of the car.

“A nice place by Portgas D.Ace? God, how original.” Catherine reached out and took Buggy's hand, and they walked into the café.

“Hm. This place is really nice.” She looked around.

The cafe looked pretty comfortable inside. There were flames painted on the sand colored walls. The tables and chairs were shaped like hats. A red and white brick wall with the letters A decorated the wall behind the cash register. The waitresses wore hats, beads and strange jewelry with a mustachioed man painted on it.

“I hate hats. And I don't like this place.” Buggy muttered to himself.

“Are you all right?” She squeezed his hand.

“What? Yeah. Never mind.”

“Order me a cup of coffee, please. I’ll run to the restroom. And while you're waiting for me, I allow you to look at those cute waitresses in short skirts. But first, you can look at my receding ass.” Catherine ran her nails playfully over his arm and scurried off to the bathroom, wiggling her buttocks a bit.

Buggy chuckled, looked around cautiously and sat down at a table. One of the waitresses approached him, and he ordered two coffees and two brownies for Catherine, knowing she loves them. Catherine quickly came back to him and plopped down next to him.

“Brownies!! Thank you!!” She pecked him on the cheek. “You're my best!”

“Listen, I'll be right back, okay? There's a gas station near the cafe, I need to fill up the tank.” He was obviously tense and hurried to get up.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Catherine put her hand on his wrist and looked worriedly at him.

“Yes, I just.. Forget. I’m fine.” Buggy stood up and left the cafe.

Catherine watched through the window as he bowed his head and walked somewhere to the side. She was about to sip her coffee when a young, muscular man with curly hair sat down across from her. He wore black boots, black knee-length shorts with an eyelet-studded orange belt, and a blue pouch belted around his left leg. He wore beads and a hat. And he wasn't wearing a t-shirt.

“Oh my God, do people in Egypt not wear clothes at all?” Suddenly she blurted out.

“Such a beautiful girl and alone.” The man said, adjusting the brim of his hat with his finger and making himself comfortable.

“First, I’m not alone. Second, this seat is actually occupied.” Catherine crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

“Really? What a shame! I wanted to chat and ask a pretty girl how she got here. Drum Island isn't the closest place to civilization.”

“Well, actually…You know. Never mind. Just riding around and checking out the neighborhood. Is that forbidden?”

“Oh, my God, what a tone.” He's got his hands up. “How about some more coffee? At my cost. I own this place. I’m Portgas D. Ace, kitten.”

“I don't give a shit what your name is. And don’t call me kitten.” Catherine took the cup, sipped her coffee and looked out the window.

“Wow! I like you. Maybe you and me..”

“Hey!” Catherine heard Buggy's voice coming toward her and felt his hand on her shoulder. She saw him shift his gaze from Ace to her and then back to him. And feeling him squeeze her shoulder lightly. She gently took his hand and stroked her finger across his palm. “Who's taking payment for gasoline around here?” He bellowed.

“This is my gas station and my cafe.” Ace placed his elbows on the back of the chair, placing his hands behind his head. “How much do you need?”

“A full tank and three extra cans.” Buggy said, squeezing the car keys in his hand.

Ace stood up and they both walked back to the cash register. Catherine tried to overhear their conversation, but failed. Buggy came back and sat down next to her.

“Are you sure you're okay?” She looked at him and stroked his shoulder. Catherine broke off a piece of brownie and put it in his mouth. “Eat. You look sad. Chocolate will make you happy. Tasty?”

“Yes.” He chewed a bite and tried to look more satisfied. “So. Where do we go from here next?”

“Look.” Catherine laid the notebook out on the table. “We're going to have to drive down this Isshi-20 road for abouttwo hours. And we'll get to the first pyramid we need. The Red Pyramid.”

“What kind of stupid name is that?” Buggy rolled his eyes.

She laughed and took his hand. “And if we find what we're looking for there, we can come back here and look for an overnight stay. Because the path to the second pyramid starts here anyway.”

“Do you need a place to stay?” Ace suddenly came over to them and put two more coffees on the table. Catherine looked at him with disbelief. “Come on, kitten, don't look at me like that. It's at the expense of the establishment. I don't get many pretty girls over here. You know, it's a long way from a decent place, so..”

“Uh. Thanks, I guess.” She took a cup of coffee and slid one to Buggy first and one to herself. She continued to hold Buggy's hand and ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

Ace stood up, stretched, standing with his stomach to Catherine's face and walked towards the cash register. She rolled her eyes.

“Hey!” Catherine suddenly called out to him. “Pork Ass Ace or whatever your name is. Where's a good motel around here?”

Ace sat down opposite them, leaning one hand on the table and occasionally winking at Catherine, and started talking about the nearest motels.

“I hate hats and all his friends.” Buggy muttered, sipping his coffee.

⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭

“Is this the Red Pyramid? Cotton candy? Cotton candy?!” Buggy looked at Catherine, who was kicking her legs, jumping and squealing, probably throughout the desert.

She began to run around in a circle, periodically pouncing on Buggy with hugs.

Smack. Smack. “We've arrived.” Smack. Smack.

“Well, getting to the pyramid isn't that hard if you have the car and the map.” Buggy grinned, scratching his head. “Please, stop kissing me.” “Please, don't stop!” He thought in his head.

“No! You don’t understand!” Smack. “Just imagine, this is our first treasure hunt to..” Smack. “Ge..” Smack. “..Ther!” Smack. She happily plopped down on the sand. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t participated in this often. So. We need to take water and a pickaxe, right?”

“Yeah, matches and a flashlight too.”

Catherine jumped up from the ground and threw herself on his neck. “Love.” Smack. “Love.” Smack. “Love, love, love you!” Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Geeez, Cathie-pie. It's just the beginning of our search, save your strength for the motel.” Buggy winked, smiled and ran his hand over her hair. “So, my Egyptian girl, where are we going now?”

She took the map and notepad out of her bag, running her fingers over the pages and muttering under her breath. “This way!” She pointed her finger somewhere in the other direction from the pyramid.

“What?” He looked towards her finger. “We came from there!”

“Oh, sorry! I didn't look where I was pointing. “This way!” She glanced at the pyramid. “The entrance should be at the south side.”

Catherine straightened his cap and ran to the car, squealing, waving her arms and legs in different directions. Buggy grinned, looked at her carefully, and followed her. He gave her matches, a lighter, water, and flashlights for safekeeping. He took a pickaxe and two small axes, and they walked toward the pyramid. The bright sun made the sand seem to burn their feet even through their shoes.

“Fuck! I think my legs are about to turn into two fried sausages.” Catherine shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “How do you even live here? It's like a crematorium.”

“You can jump on my back, if you want. I’ll carry you.” Buggy took off his cap and put it on Catherine's head. “Here, we're gonna need your brains because.. Stop!” He grabbed her arm. There's someone there.” He pointed at the crowd near the pyramid.

“So? Let's walk past and pretend we're tourists.” Catherine shrugged.

“Yeah, where have you seen tourists with pickaxes? Cotton candy, I'm the one responsible for the stupidity in our relationship, and sometimes you're the one who talks nonsense.”

“Wait! Can you use your chop chop thing and throw our stuff in there?” Catherine pointed her finger at one of the walls of the pyramid. “And then we will calmly walk past this group of tourists. My bag won't arouse suspicion.”

“You see, as soon as I put the cap on you, your brain immediately started working!” He lightly hit her nose with his finger.

She hit him in the shoulder with her fist.

“Ouch! For what?” He scratched his the shoulder.

“Stop talking, clown. Get busy and send our stuff over there.”

Buggy took off his pickaxe and sent his hands, along with it and the axes, in the indicated direction. “Why are you smiling?”

“I've been living with you for months now, and I'm still amazed by your abilities. You're standing here in front of me, and your hands are somewhere there.” Catherine made a small movement with her hands and whistled slightly. She noticed the sad look in his eyes, and she immediately wanted to hug him. Catherine took a half step forward and put her arms around his waist. “Don't be offended, my silly clown. I like your chop chop thing.” She suddenly started laughing.

“And now what?” Buggy looked at her.

“Sorry. I'm standing here. And you can't even hug me because your arms are out there somewhere. Flying.” She whistled again.

“Fuck you, honestly.” Buggy returned his hands and reattached them. “Okay, let's go. Let's pretend that we are a young couple in love who came to look at the pyramids.”

“But we are a young couple in love who came to see the pyramids!” Catherine took his hand and squeezed it slightly.

They walked towards the crowd, trying to attract as little attention as possible.

“We are standing next to the pink pyramid, it was built about 2000 years ago.” Came the guide's voice.

Catherine rolled her eyes. “4500 years ago!” She said this a little louder than expected. The whole crowd turned to look at her. She glanced at Buggy, who had a lot of emotions in his eyes, and giggled. The guide shook his head, turned back to the pyramid, and continued his story.

“Let's go!” Buggy grabbed Catherine's hand.

“You know what I'm curious about? Why does the deer work as a tour guide?” She looked back with interest at the deer in the pink hat. “What a strange world it is in Cairo.”

They slowly walked away from the tour group, looking at the pyramid. Catherine kissed him a couple of times on the cheek so as not to arouse suspicion. They reached the south entrance of the pyramid.

“I’m certainly not the smartest person in the world, but why is the pyramid called pink, if in fact it is white?” Buggy asked, picking up the pickaxe and the axes.

“I'm glad you asked.” Catherine smiled and adjusted the cap on her head. “That's a little interesting fact. Its walls used to be lined with white limestone, and the name comes from the color of the stone blocks, which turn pink in the setting sun. Pretty cool, huh?” She moved closer to the wall and ran her hand over its surface. “It's so beautiful, isn't it? Just imagine, these walls are several thousand years old.”

“I'm wondering, Cathie-pie, how you got into all this Egyptian stuff?” Buggy came closer to her and put his hand on her back.

“I don't know, it must have come from my father. He took me to museums, gave me books, told me stories. Weren't you ever interested in myths and legends?” She turned to glance at him.

“Not really.” He shrugged his shoulder. “I was more interested in treasure. Myths won't make you rich, baby. But a scepter from some pharaoh might.”

Catherine narrowed her eyes. “Where do you get such a pirate love for treasures?”

Buggy just ruffled her hair in response.

They were standing near a small entrance to the pyramid.

“Tell me, cotton candy, where should we go next?” He peered down the aisle.

“Well..” Catherine said, straightening the pant leg of the overalls. “The entrance to the Pink Pyramid is on the north side at a height of 28 meters. A narrow descending corridor 62 meters long leads deep into the pyramid to three consecutive chambers. The stepped ceilings of all chambers are about 17 meters high and narrow to the top. From the first chamber to the second can be accessed through a short passage in the corner, and in the third chamber from the second need to climb a wooden staircase to a small corridor. It is believed to be the actual burial chamber of a pharaoh, although according to archaeologists, no one was ever buried in the Pink Pyramid.”

Catherine shifted her gaze to Buggy, who had a single “what the fuck” question in his eyes. She laughed.

“Anyway, it's this way.” She pointed toward the passageway.

Catherine turned on the flashlight and walked slowly forward, constantly turning to see if Buggy was following her. There was a pungent odor inside that grew stronger with each step.

“What's that stench?” Buggy asked, pinching his nose.

“Ammonia, mostly. As I know, it's the odor from limestone excretions or bats. Also, of course, there may be the smells of tourists... Well.. You know. Some don't hold back on the tours.”

“What?” He yelped.

“Don't be a baby. We should be more careful, by the way. There's an entrance on the other side of the pyramid, but it's more used for tourists, and they shouldn't get very far, but theoretically we could meet them somewhere in the very first halls.”

They went down a narrow corridor, the walls of which were decorated with various drawings.

“We need to get to the pharaoh's burial room.” Catherine said as she carefully walked on the floor. “Part of the scep..”

“Cathie-pie?” Buggy turned on the flashlight and saw that Catherine was gone. “Catherine?!”

“I’m here! Help me! Hurry!”

Buggy ran the flashlight over the place where she was and saw a cliff. “Fuck!” He rushed forward.

“It seems that no one has walked along this road for a long time.” Catherine was hanging feet down, miraculously managing to grab some ledge in the crack.

Buggy knelt down and leaned towards her. “Give me your hand!”

Catherine tried to reach out with one hand, but the other began to slip. She grabbed the ledge with both hands. “I can't! Dear god! I’m gonna die, right?”

Buggy leaned even further and grabbed her by the wrist. “Hey, I'm holding you, do you hear? Pull yourself up a little!”

“Are you sure you’re holding me tight?”

“No, damn it, I'm lying. Who's gonna piss me off if you slip up and fall?”

“Asshole!” Catherine took a deep breath and pulled her hand up to his arm. Buggy grabbed her tightly and pulled her up. She grunted, hooked her hands into the floor, and began to climb up the walkway. He helped her climb up by grabbing her overalls.

“Thanks!” Catherine said, leaning her back against the wall. “You saved me again, my blue-haired hero!”

“Uh-huh.” Buggy sat next to her, holding her hand tightly. “At least watch where you're going. Are you okay?”

“Yeah! There's just a part of the slab missing. I don't know, maybe it collapsed over time. Can you use your chop chop thing to carry me across this span?”

“I can always use my chop chop, as you call it, thing for you.” He winked and laughed slyly.

“Oh my god!” Catherine picked up the pickaxe and axes and threw them on herself.

“Hop in!” Buggy crouched down slightly and arched his back to her. Catherine climbed in behind him, wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his body. “Oh, I'm starting to like this!” He reached his hand back and pinched her ass. Catherine hit him gently on the head.

Buggy separated his body from his legs and carried them as far away as he could. Catherine jumped off his back, watched admiringly as he gathered himself back up. Buggy took the pickaxe and axes. She pecked him on the cheek and dragged him further down the corridors.

They crawled through the right narrow passageways and finally reached the stairs that would lead them to the burial hall.

“I hope that group, along with the deer we met in the second hall, don't go this way.” Catherine whispered. “I don't know how deep the tour groups go now. So I suggest we don't stay long.” She crept up the steps to the top.

“I have to admit, I like the view I'm getting right now!” Buggy giggled like an idiot, climbing after her.

“For God's sake, can you think of anything but my ass?” She rolled her eyes.

“Baby, you just don't see what I see!”

“You're disgusting, you know that?!”

“Oh, I hear it from you every single day.”

“One more word and I swear to god, clown, I'll cut you to pieces and leave you here somewhere.” She hissed through her teeth.

“Well, at least take my dick, or you'll have to live a sad life without it.”

“I hate you!” Catherine reached the top of the stairs and saw a narrow hallway. “Shh! Hey, we're here.” She stepped into the corridor and illuminated the walls with a lantern. "Oh my God! Come here quickly!” She beckoned him with her palm.

Buggy got out after her and stood next to her.

“Look how beautiful it is!” Catherine ran the flashlight along the walls.

From floor to ceiling the walls were decorated with frescoes with images of various gods, signs, and inscriptions. In some places, some drawings were erased, while others remained intact. She began to walk from wall to wall, periodically dropping to her knees.

“Look, there's a door!” Buggy whispered to her.

Catherine turned just as he was about to touch the drawing on it.

“No, no! Don't touch it!” She ran up sharply and yanked his hand away.

“Why?” There was frustration in his eyes. “There must be something in there!” He took the pickaxe in his hands. “Maybe..”

“No! Do you know what it is?” Catherine pointed her finger at an oblong, rounded oval with a horizontal line at the bottom.

“I have no idea.”

“So why the hell are you touching something you have no idea about?!” She slapped his hands and rolled her eyes. “It's a cartouche.”

“The car...what?”

“The cartouche. It indicates that the text written in it is the king's name. There is also the drawing of a petrel. And if such a seal is on the door, then we can't go in there.”

“Why not? No Egyptian has ever told Buggy the Clown that he can't go anywhere.” He reached for the door again. “Let's take a look! They're all long dead in there anyway.”

“I said no!” Catherine slapped his hands again. “Why are you always doing that? Breaking in somewhere without even really knowing anything. I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up in jail because you initially went through the wrong door.”

Buggy scratched his head and smiled.

“Oh my God! Is that how it all happened?!” Catherine squealed quietly.

“Can you yell at me later? Part of the scepter, remember?”

“Oh, yeah! Just a minute!” She took out a map from her bag and a notebook. “So. Let me think. If we are here now, then we need to go there!” Catherine pointed her finger towards the wide corridor. “We walk along these frescoes and must come to the funeral hall. From there, according to the maps, there is a short exit.”

“Shall we go then?” Buggy patted her on the shoulder and walked forward. Catherine put everything back in her bag and hurried after him.

Walking along a long corridor, they emerged into a huge hall. Catherine moved the flashlight around the space. They saw sloping side walls made of stone or mud brick.

“Oh my God!” Catherine squealed and ran forward.

“Catherine! Fuck!!” Buggy ran after her and grabbed her hand. “I asked you a million times not to do that!”

“Do you know what this is?” She pointed with the light of a lantern at a strange rectangular structure.

“Do I look like a man who knows?”

“This is a mastaba! This is an Egyptian tomb. In ancient Egyptian, the mastaba was known as the “house of stability” or “house of eternity.” Catherine knelt in front of the tomb and studied it with interest. “Someone is buried here. Maybe the archaeologists were wrong?” She stood up and shook off her knees. “The scepter has to be here somewhere. The copies I saw in the library said 'where heaven and earth meet'. Heaven and earth.”

“Hey, cotton candy, some of your favorite Egyptian people are drawn here again!” Buggy was pointing his flashlight at the wall.

“Wow. Let me see!” She ran up to the wall. “Wow, that's Nut and Geb! That's why heaven and earth! Do you know who that is?” She put her hands on the drawings.

“Baby, can I make your life easier right away? I never know who you're talking about!”

“Idiot. Nut is the goddess of the sky. Geb is the god of the earth. They are the children of the gods Tefnut and Shu. Geb and Nut loved each other very much while still in their mother Tefnut's womb and came into the world tightly embraced. They wanted to marry against the will of Ra, the sun god. Then Ra became angry and ordered the god Shu to divide his children. Shu obeyed. He lifted Nut high up, so the sky appeared and Nut became his goddess. Shu lowered Geb down, and so the earth came into being.”

“This is a very delightful lecture, but how can we find the scepter. And what kind of children are these drawn here?” He shined the flashlight on another part of the wall.

“Let me see!” She jumped, ran up to the drawings and pushed Buggy aside in joy.

“Hey!” He rolled his eyes.

"Oooh, my love! I think I understand. These are not just children. These children are Geb and Nut. They had five children – Osiris, Set, Isis, Nephthys, and Horus. You're now gonna die from the story of their birth. Ra decreed, “Nut shall not give birth any day of the year.” At that time, the year was only 360 days. Nut spoke to Thoth, the god of wisdom, and he had a plan. Nut gambled with Khonsu, the god of the Moon, whose light rivaled that of Ra’s. Every time Khonsu lost, he had to give Nut some of his moonlight. Khonsu lost so many times that Nut had enough moonlight to make five extra days. Since these days were not part of the year, Nut could have her children. Cool, yeah?”

Catherine looked with a smile at Buggy, who seemed to not understand a word of her story.

“And look at this! There are symbols of heaven and earth, something else drawn on the wall here.” She touched a circular image drawing, above which were four other smaller drawings with dissected limbs. “And it's moving!”

“What?”

“It's moving.” Catherine carefully scrolled the circle a few times and noticed the drawings with the serrated limbs moved too. “It's like a kaleidoscope.” She muttered to herself. “See? I'm spinning this circle and those five signs start moving in different directions. Help me! This thing is heavy. Spin it to the right!”

Buggy put his hands on the circle and moved it to the right with force.

“These aren't just little drawings.” Catherine whispered. “They're children!”

“What do you mean?”

“They're children. And see there are serifs there too. Those are numbers. You need to spin the wheel so that those signs go into those spots in the order in which the babies were born. Okay. The first one was Osiris. There he is!” She pointed her finger at the sign. “And over there is the number one. Spin it that way!”

Buggy started spinning the circle with vigor. “Fuck, it's heavy!”

Catherine put her hand on his back. “You're doing great!” She could see him blushing even in the lantern light. “Okay. Almost. Just a little more!” They heard a click. “Okay, there's the first one!”

“Yep, and those other ones are in the other sides. And this thing isn't moving anymore!” He tried scrolling again. “See? Fuck!”

“Don't freak out!” Catherine wiggled her fingers along his back. She took out a notepad. “Wait. It says there's another wheel.” She began to move the flashlight along the wall. “Here it is!” She stood up and squatted, studying the wall. “Here are the signs of day and night. Wait.." Catherine clicked her fingers. "Ra ordered Shu to support Nut so that she would not fall. Holding the sky was very difficult, and Shu took breaks to rest. And it turned out that when Shu holds Nut, the day comes. And when he takes a break, the sky falls to the ground and night falls. The wheel is now in night mode. I'll try to scroll through it for a day. As if a new day was coming and Nut could give birth to another child.” She pressed hard on the wheel and moved the signs.

She ran back to him. “Now try to move it!”

“Ok!” Buggy placed his hands on the circle. “It's moving!”

“Yes!” She clapped her hands. “Then there was Seth. This is him! And turn here!”

He spun the wheel again and heard a click.

“You’re doing great!” Catherine couldn't help herself and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm switching days again.” She ran to the other wheel and spun it again. “Done!”

She ran back and forth until they put the ring on Isis, Nephthys, and Horus.

“And now what?” Buggy asked.

"I don..."

Suddenly, three stones moved away near the floor. They knelt down.

“Do you see the golden piece, too?” Catherine asked, grabbing Buggy's hand.

“Uh-huh,” he replied in a whisper.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Baby, we found part of the scepter!” He reached his hand between the rocks and the wall. “Sh-h! Someone's coming!”

They heard voices and footsteps.

“Looks like that deer guide! Apparently they've started taking groups here. Get it faster!” She started lightly slapping his arm.

“Fuck! It's stuck!”

“Pull, but just be careful!” She listened for footsteps. “They're close!”

“Got it! Here we go! One second! Yes!!” Buggy pulled out a thin piece of golden scepter. “There's something written here.”

“We'll figure it out later. Give it to me!” Catherine snatched the piece from his hands and put it in her bag. At the same moment, a tour group entered the halls.

The guide looked at the wet Buggy and Catherine, who were quickly getting up from the floor, shaking off their pants, and shook his head.

“Couldn't even hold back!” Some old woman muttered.

⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭

“He did this to spite me. I saw how he looked at you.”

“Who?"

“That half-naked man in the hat!”

“Don't say that! We were lucky that this strange man who sits in a chest for some reason found us a room, my little bear.”

“No, let's find another place!”

“It's just for one night, Buggy.”

“No! This is too much, I can't stand it. Why can't we find another place?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her chin on his chest and looked at him. “Because you've been driving for several hours already, you need to rest. You're tired, I'm tired.”

“But I don't wanna sleep without you.” He looked around the motel room, which had two separate beds.

“Just for one night. I promise, okay?”

He made a sad face and sighed. “Okay!”

“Oh, don’t be sad! Let's go find something for dinner.” She took his hand and dragged him out of the room.

They found a cafe nearby, ordered two pizzas to go, then went into the store and bought beer and wine. They returned to the room after a short walk, on which Buggy had tried so vigorously to cheer Catherine up that he had rumbled into the bushes twice. Catherine checked his face and hands once again when they came back.

“You're lucky, no injuries. Sit down, my blue-haired klutz. I’ll set the table for us.”

Buggy plopped down on a chair, put his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on his hands. He kept his eyes on her, watching her move smoothly around the motel kitchen in search of plates, glasses, and napkins.

“Wow, I found candles! How long has it been since we had a candlelit dinner?” Catherine froze with two yellow candles in her hands. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Me? I just.. I’m not looking.” Buggy crossed his arms.

Catherine narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose slightly. “Okay.” She put the candles and the pizza boxes on the table, and ran to her bag for matches. Buggy watched her every move,

“What's wrong with you? You're staring at me.” She came up behind him and ruffled his hair. “You don't want me to think that Buggy the Clown loves someone very, very much, right? Better open the wine and beer.” She kissed him on the cheek.

Catherine lit the candles, turned the lights off, and sat down on a chair with her legs tucked under her buttocks. He opened a bottle of wine for her and was about to pour the drink into a glass.

“Oh, fuck the glass. I'll drink like that.” She took the bottle and drank the wine straight from the bottle.

“You never cease to amaze me, my Cathie-pie.” Buggy smiled, opened his beer and took a sip from the bottle.

“I have a good teacher.” She pulled her legs out from under her and placed them on his lap. He pulled her chair closer to him.

“Romance of motels, yeah?” Catherine chuckled. “Candles, food, you and me.”

“You know, my cotton candy, I wanna drink to you.” He hit the neck of his bottle on her bottle.

“To me? Why?”

“Well.. Thanks to you, we are chasing treasures and solving riddles. Okay, you solve riddles. And you also.. well.. take great care of me, and continue to do so even on our trip. And.. well... I'm glad… well… you're with me. And I hope you stay with me. Well.. Because I want it. And.. well.. I.. I.. l-love you.” Buggy blushed, staring at the table. He stuttered and twirled the bottle in his hands.

“Oh my God, it's like you're almost proposing to me.” Catherine took another sip of wine and smiled.

“What? No! I'm not proposing. Well.. I just thought I.. I rarely say how much I.. you know.. appreciate you.” He mumbled and blushed more under all his bright makeup. “No one has ever cared about me so much. Onl-ly..you.”

Catherine stood up from her chair and hugged him. “My heart hurts every time you say such horrible things.” She sat back, took his hand and ran her thumb over his palm. “You know, I know that this whole love topic isn't easy for you, and I have never pressured you and will not pressure you with this in the future. Don't worry, please, okay? You show your feelings differently. And I like that.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “But thank you! I was pleased to hear this.” Smack. Smack. “Alright! No more sadness for today! Eat your pizza, you're hungry.”

Catherine smiled, opened the box and moved it closer to him. He kissed her hand and took the slice.

“Tasty?” She asked.

He nodded. She watched him gobble up piece after piece and couldn't stop smiling, chewing her slice of pizza.

Buggy opened a second bottle of beer.

“You know, my Cathie-pie, I'm getting tired of sitting on this shitty chair. I have a better idea.” He took her gently in his arms and carried her to the bed. He plopped down on the mattress with her. “Shit, my back!”

“You ok? Did you hit yourself?” Catherine stroked his head.

“I’m fine.” Buggy croaked, straightening his back.

“Wait, what about pizza and wine?”

“It's coming right up!” He detached both hands and sent them off to fetch the box and bottles. Catherine sat down on her lap, settling behind his back. “You know, to start a relationship with a guy with chop chop thing was the best decision of my life.” She let his hair down and began gently massaging his shoulders.

Hands brought out pizza and drinks and Buggy attached them back.

“What? Your ex-boyfriends couldn't do that? Oh my God, this is so good.”

“Hah, no! They couldn't. You're special.” Catherine replied with a laugh in her voice and slightly squeezed his shoulder’s muscles.

“God, little pie, you're spoiling me.” Buggy took his beer and took a sip.

“No! Just someone's been behind the wheel for a long time and that someone needs a little rest.” She massaged his shoulders a few times, slowly moved her hands down to his shoulder blades, then back up to his shoulders and placed her thumbs on the muscles located on either side of his neck.

“God, that feels good! Can you go a little lower?”

Catherine glided her hands down his back, staying next to the spine, she gently moved her hands to his shoulder blades again.

“Do you like it?”

“Hell, yeah. Oh, shit, so good!” He purred.

“My little bear, can I ask you a question? But don't answer if you don't want to, okay?”

“Go ahead. Oh, fuck!”

“Do your joints hurt when you use that chop chop thing?”

“Geez, pie. I thought that we wouldn't be playing the game of “who’s got what hurts more” for a long time.”

“I'm just curious. I've never seen anything like this before I met you. I mean, you've been living with these abilities since you were young, right? And now you’re not so young.”

“Well, it hurts sometimes. Oh, so good. But I'm not old, if that's what you're implying.”

“Oh, believe me, what you do to me during the nights, old people can't do.”

“I bet your ex-boyfriends didn't do this to you either.” Buggy tried to sound as proud as possible.

“Someone is jealous!”

“I'm not jealous. I just don't like to think that anyone could ever take you out on dates, touched you, kissed you or worse.”

“This is jealousy, idiot.”

Catherine massaged his back, neck and shoulders for a long time, accompanied by his incessant “Holy shit, so good!”

Buggy leaned his back and the back of his head against her chest. Catherine ran her hands over his head, massaging the entire scalp area with her fingers. She moved her fingers to his temples and began making circular movements.

“Oh, fuck, so good!”

“Are you still alive?”

“Yeah!” He hummed quietly, closing his eyes. He took both her hands, gently removed them from his temples and without unclenching their hands, placed them on his lap. He kept silent for a couple of minutes, squeezing her hands tightly.

“I love you, my Buggy Bear. You know that?” Catherine said quietly and kissed his temple.

“Really? First time I heard that.” He said without opening his eyes.

“Ass! It's time for you to go to bed, okay?”

And then it began. Buggy started whining that he didn’t want to sleep alone. Even when she went to shower, he went into the bathroom after her and whined there. She kicked him out of the bath and he stood next to the closed door whining. She opened the door, took his hand and led him to bed, listening to him endlessly whimper. Catherine managed to put him to bed. She covered him with a blanket and kissed his head.

“No, bring your beautiful ass in unicorn pants back to me! You will be very far away!!” He extended his hand from under the blanket.

“Just one night, Buggy! Stop whining, for god's sake! I’m in the same room.”

“No, baby, please, come back! Can you even imagine how hard it is to sleep and not touch you?!”

Catherine rolled her eyes to the sky, saying sarcastically. “God, have I done something to anger you tonight? I was lucky enough to see a love-struck Buggy in the evening, a calm Buggy, but suddenly I was visited by my favorite version. The whining Buggy.”

She turned towards his bed. He separated his hands and tried to grab her t-shirt.

She pulled his hands off her with difficulty. “Oh my god! What's wrong with you? Can you act normal?” Catherine walked over to his bed and threw his arms onto the blanket. “That's yours! I'm going to sleep!”

“But ba~...”

“Shut up, please!” She lay down in her bed and covered herself with a blanket. “Good night, my blue-haired love.”

Catherine heard him rambling into the wall and didn't know how to contain her laughter.

She tossed and turned for two hours, trying to sleep.

“Buggy? Buggy? Are you sleeping?” In response, she heard a quiet snore. “Buggy?”

“What?” He croaked sleepily.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Of course, I'm sleeping, that's why I'm answering.” He muttered barely audibly. “What happened, pie?”

“I can not sleep.” Catherine whispered.

“Do you want me to heat up some milk for you?”

“No, I already drank, it didn't help. Something is wrong.” Catherine tossed and turned in bed a little more, then sat down on the bed and lowered her feet to the floor. She stood on her tiptoes and walked over to his bed.

“Move over, clown!” She slapped his ass.

“Baby, all you need is to ask.” He wheezed.

“Idiot! Move over.” She pushed him in the back.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Buggy turned to her and moved his body closer to the wall.

“It's all your fault!” Catherine lay down under the blanket with him and curled up into a ball.

“I’m very happy to see you, but what did I do?” He hugged her and pulled her closer.

“Ts! I didn't give you permission to talk.” She buried her head in his chest. “That's better. And Buggy Bear..”

“I’m listening, my cotton candy.”

“Stop grabbing my ass!”

13 notes · View notes

buglyknight · 7 months ago

Text

1231) you grow with the wool

We're talking on a bed

Of course I have time to

Kiss every inch of your skin

To tell you how much you mean

You can feel free to

Touch the dimples on my shoulders

I'll massage your every muscle

I dreamt of your voice when it smiles

My dad hunts every

Majestic blue Phoenix to extinction

Just because they're blue

He accidentally shoots himself in the leg

He tells me

To keep walking

It's better to die on your feet

So, I continue without him

Walk down the highway

To our destination

The car was on fire

There's some weird ass kobold here with

A plant companion

Listen, I don't know what that was about

A red mustang falls in the water

Over a rickety wooden bridge

I drove it too recklessly

I'm fishing during a storm

I see schools of massive carp in the

Crystal waters right below my feet

I forget why I'm fishing here

Another storm rolls in

The tent is soaked and torn

Everyone is talking about the

Red mustang under the water

None of that's important because I'm

Messaging you

When I wake up with the

Wool still over my eyes

I look at my phone as if you

Texted me back

You didn't, so I

Go back to bed

So I can talk to you again

The next time I wake,

I grab tweezers to

Pull strips of wool from the cornea

Like the handkerchief of a clown

It keeps going for miles

#0412 #poem #poetry

2 notes · View notes

skullaton · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 2: You should head back

Rating: M

Summary:

The city is full of people. Then why did it feel so lonely? Memories of clinking bottles and dazzling neon lights flickered through your mind. Misty, car filled streets with humans, but no humanity. A bridge and a phonebooth. And a sweet voice that wanted you to come home. You’ve wandered too far, and you don’t know how to get back. But don’t worry! You’ve made some friends from a colourful town that can help you!

TW: Childhood trauma, scopophobia, alcohol references AO3 link: here Wally logo by Clown

A low buzz of static hummed throughout your living room.

You were alone again.

It wasn’t new to be alone.

Your mom worked multiple shifts, and your teenage sister was often out late.

Your dad had been out of the picture for a long time.

You sat on the verdant shag rug as you leafed through the spines of old VHS tapes on your entertainment centre. Tempting titles such as Pokemon or Doraemon called for you to pick them, but there was one that you always meandered back to.

There was a worn, yellow plastic tape, the sticker long faded from years of use.

Welcome Home.

Your mom picked it out at a second-hand shoppe - probably to get you off her back while she shopped for other things.

It quickly became one of your favourite shows.

It felt like a nice little respite from the world. A home away from home.

You also loved the fact that the artist segment changes every time you watch it!

It must be a new feature for VCR players, because none of your other tapes did that!

You popped the VHS into the player, the gears winding the tape.

The rainbow show lit up the room, like a beacon of life in this dreary existence.

The opening title of the show rolled. You hummed to it as you got comfortable on the floor, your tiny legs kicking in the air as you lay on your stomach.

The segment started, the main character behind an easel peaking out, paintbrush in hand.

“Hello, neighbour!”

----

Your heavy eyelids blinked as consciousness pulled you out of your deep slumber. You sucked in a deep breath of air as you stretched your sore limbs.

What a day, yesterday.

You rolled to your side as the reality of waking up connected in your brain. You tiredly stared at the rows of storeroom shelves, internally cursing yourself.

Guess it was all real.

You fumbled out of your blanket cocoon and wobbled your way to the door. You were greeted with the same towering, multi-limbed creature from yesterday. There was something comforting about him today, though. He felt more realistic. Kind.

He was stocking his shelves dutifully before looking up to you. He held in a chuckle. “Good morning! You look like you slept well.”

You gave him a groggy ‘huh?’

He responded simply by pointing at your hair.

Your hand went up to touch the literal bird’s nest that sat on your scalp. You hurriedly ran your fingers through the locks, flattening out whatever imperfections. An embarrassed blush crossed your features.

He chuckled once again. “If you want, you can use the shower. I can find you a fresh pair of clothes.”

“You sell clothes?” Your sleepy voice cracked in surprise.

“More like I special order clothes for Julie. The only thing is that silly little girl always forgets to pick up her orders.”

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Wouldn’t she be mad if you looked through her orders?”

He gave a dismissive wave of a hand as he moved his way to a few boxes behind the front counter. “If I told her that it was for you, she’d probably assume it was for ‘dress up party’ purposes. So I don’t think she’d mind.”

You tried not to think about the ethical and legal implications of going through your customer’s stuff. Arguing probably wouldn’t help you in this case.

He pulled out a pair of high waisted flare jeans and a muted rainbow top. He offered them with one set of hands, while the others went to seal the boxes back up.

Dang, multitasking to the extreme.

You gratefully accepted the clothes. “You sure this is okay…?”

He gave you a caring smile, dismissing your concern, “Go get washed up.”

You bowed your head in thanks, padding your way to the bathroom.

A shower will help you feel human again in this insane puppet world.

Turning on the faucet, hot steam clouded the tiny washroom. Dipping into the warm waters, you felt your woes and worries wash down the drain.

Your mind wandered to Howdy. He sure helped you a lot. His generosity knows no bounds. Maybe you should help him in some way? Maybe pay back your debt by cleaning up the bodega a bit?

Yeah, that sounds good. It must be hard being the only worker.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a spare towel around your body. You swiped a hand across the clouded mirror, giving a good look at yourself.

That husk of a human from last night looked more alive. Colour was back in your face, and the fine lines around your eyes seemed to have lightened.

Those retinol treatments you were doing probably helped a lot with your complexion.

Despite everything, you’re still you!

Tossing on the retro styled clothes, you embarked on the new day.

”What can I do to help?”

“Really, you don’t need to do anything.”

You released a stubborn sigh, arms folding across your chest. You stared at the bug man from across the counter. “I really want to help you, Howdy. I want to help pay off my debt.”

The salesman weighed the options. He gave a resigned sigh. “Alright, but you have to follow the price guides of the bodega!”

You quirked a brow. “Price guides?”

He gestured to the ‘100% off!’ sign on the window pane.

Your brows furrowed as you scoffed. “How does that even work?”

“Well, people pay in jokes, ideas, or observations!” He then pointed to an apple display adjacent to the front counter. A sign on it read ‘1 Apple for 1 Joke’.

There’s no way these silly Muppets live in capitalism-free town. “How does commerce even work, then? How do you pay for goods being imported to your shop?”

Howdy put a finger up to his lips as he smirked. “Trade secrets! Maybe you’ll find out some day, young Grasshopper!”

You released a defeated huff.

“Besides, there’s more to life then pointless currency. Sometimes the most valuable things are your friend’s company and wise words!”

They really did live in a commune. In a sense, you envied them.

The morning tolled on, and he instructed little things on how he ran the bodega. You helped by stocking some shelves and sweeping the floors. Before you knew it, it was midday.

The door chimed as a pair of customers sauntered in. Your breath hitched as you saw a 7 foot, bumbling blue dog plod through the doorway. You were tempted to hide behind a shelf,… that is, until your eyes landed on the shorter man walking behind him.

A smile stretched across your face, “Hello, Wally!”

The cardigan-clad puppet gave you an all-encompassing grin, “Hello, neighbour!”

“Oh, is this the kid you were talking about?” the dog rumbled in a deep baritone.

Your skin prickled at the term ‘kid.’ You were quite obviously not a kid.

Wally regarded the towering puppet with a nod. The giant mock Blue’s Clues character offered a wave, “Welcome to Home! The next Big City this side of the forest! I’m Barnaby, by the way.”

You assuaged the temporary anger and introduced yourself with a little wave. Howdy, who was behind the front counter, called out to the new patrons. “What can I get for you fellas?”

Barnaby put up two fingers, “Two hot dogs, please!”

“Two dogs wrapped in yellow and red bow ties, with all the fixin's, comin’ right up!” The caterpillar’s limbs went to work as he swiveled around to the hot dog machine. He loaded the dogs up with whipped cream, onions, ketchup, mustard, and a cherry.

Imagining the taste made you shiver.

He offered the food to the pair, while another set of hands punched in the order on the cash register. “And how will you be paying today?”

Barnaby gave a smug smile. “Why did the baby cookie cry?”

A pause.

“Its mother was a wafer so long.”

Howdy erupted in a boisterous laugh, one of his hands going down to slap his knee. Even you smirked at the atrocious dad joke. He rubbed a tear away from his eye as he regarded Wally. “And how about you?”

Wally gave his signature hum as he rolled his head to the side. “What do you call an insect who can’t get out of bed?”

You peered at him expectantly.

“A bedbug!”

Howdy offered a sympathetic chuckle, the joke not landing as hard as Barnaby’s. He punched the jokes on the register, the receipt screeching out as it was printed.

“You tried, fella,” Barnaby put a big paw on Wally’s shoulder.

“Can’t top the town jokester, after all,” the smaller puppet winked up at his friend and they both chuckled.

With hot dogs in hand, they started to make their way out. As Barnaby ducked out of of the tiny doorframe, Wally stood in place for a moment.

It felt like minutes pass until he finally regards you. “Would you like to come with us? We can introduce you to the rest of the neighbours.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered. You still felt guilty about not paying back all of what Howdy has done for you.

“Go meet everyone, Grasshopper,” the voice next to you pulled you out of your thoughts, the new nickname cooling any form of anxiety that you harnessed. “You can’t figure out how to get out of here without friends, right?”

You offered Howdy a kind smile. “Thanks.”

He shooed you off with your new friend, allowing you to step free into the rainbow world of Home.

Wally and you caught up to Barnaby, who was happily snacking on his treat.

The three of you trekked throughout the colour radiant town, making pit stops in front of each of the townsfolk’s homes.

The first person you all ran into was the mailman, Eddie. He curtly greeted himself, but just as quickly excused himself to get back to work.

You watched him run off into the distance before regarding your friends. “You reckon he’d know the roads out of here?”

Wally tilted his head as he observed you, still just casually holding his hot dog. “I think his route takes him further from the City.”

You gave a sad, thoughtful hum before Wally and Barnaby, the persuasive of friends, convinced you to meet with every one of the neighbours.

Poppy, who lived in a barn, was elated to see you again. She gave praises and crooned over how you were a ‘poor lost duckling.’ She vowed to cook for you if you ever needed food for the trip.

The next new person was a literal star who lived in a theatre. Sally was an eccentric puppet who was working on a set for an upcoming play. When you spoke to her about your story, you can tell she was taking internal notes. Please, Sally, don’t make your lost voyage into a Shakespearean tragedy.

Julie was as excited as ever to see you again. She complimented your outfit, stating that it looks ‘oddly familiar.’ Hm. You wonder why. She offered if you needed anymore clothes, she’s always willing to play dress up.

Frank was out in his lawn, taking notes on a butterfly perched on a flower. You all decided not to bother him. Butterfly watching seemed stressful, as is.

Now you all stood in front of Barnaby’s doghouse. He was hungrily staring at Wally’s hot dog, who, to your humour, was carrying the snack around like it was a show and tell specimen.

“You going to finish that, buddy?” Barnaby rumbled.

Wally shook his head and offered the undisturbed snack to his friend. The dog practically wolfed the food down in a blink.

The yellow puppet clapped his hands to get the remaining crumbs off his palms while Barnaby wiped the remnants on his own forearm.

“I think this is a wonderful day to sun bathe,” Barnaby started before dipping into his yard. “You guys comin’?”

Wally hummed at the offer before shaking his head politely, “I still need to show them Home.”

Barnaby gave a carefree shrug, “Suit yourself. Y’know where to find me.” With that, he sauntered into his littered yard and found a nice batch of grass to plop down on.

You regarded Wally with a quirked brow, “’Home’? Isn’t that just the town name?”

He tutted with a tiny smirk, “Silly, silly.” He didn’t explain, instead marched up the hill to the centre of town. A red house sat on the crest, it’s windows watching you.

Wait… watching?

You stumbled back as you stifled a yelp, the giant windows blinking at your reaction. You tried to scramble behind the short puppet man.

He simply shook his head with a chuckle. He gestures to the sentient house, “This is Home! This is where I live!”

Home made some thumping noises in greeting.

You sucked in a breath as you watched in horror. Your hand came up to grasp your forehead. “Okay, I finally accepted puppets. Houses now? I must be dead. There’s no way this is real.”

“If you’re dead,” Wally looked back at you with sleepy eyes, voice nonchalant, “then this must be heaven!”

You swallowed thickly, not sure how to process his words. You sucked in another big breath to calm your trembling body and forced a weak wave at Home.

Home waved its shutters in greeting.

Well… it’s not trying to eat you like Monster House. Maybe it really isn’t that bad?

Wally broke his barrier between you and Home, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. He maneuvered his way to an easel that sat just outside his home. He placidly began to pack up the art supplies that was left outside. A half painted picture of an apple lay on the canvas, probably abandoned this morning as he opted to hang with Barnaby.

The tension you held in your shoulders ease as you watch his easygoing pace.

There really is a charm about him that can ease your worries.

He briefly glanced back to catch you staring, a soft smile gracing his plush lips. “Penny for your thoughts?”

A blush shot to your face as you looked away, embarrassed. Your heart hammered as you focused on anything but him. You cleared your throat as a thought began tumbling out, “It’s nice here, but I’m wondering if… maybe you have any suggestions on how to leave?”

Wally noticeably tenses. He was quiet for a few beats, his lazy eyes never leaving yours. “I suppose I can paint you a map! But…”

He paused, his expression softening, tone becoming more sympathetic. “It must have been pretty serious for you to get lost like you did. Do you really want to go back? You wouldn’t be a burden here in Home! You’re always welcome.”

It felt like time stood still as his words washed over you.

There was a heaviness to it all, something akin to scratching at a mental scab. A truth that you didn’t want to uncover the band aid of.

You stood in silence as you mulled over the implications.

He watched you as your thoughts clouded your features. He observed the storm in your brain get cloudier before deciding to intervene. He extended a hand out to caress your arm, the felt touch anchoring you back to reality. His voice was low and pleasant, “Take your time. It’s a big decision, and there’s no need to rush. I’ll be here for you if you need it.”

The pressure from your jaw released, the tension that built up now toppled like building blocks.

He really was a good person.

“Thank you, Wally.”

He only offered a cute feline-like smile. **

It wasn’t long before the sky became a vibrant array of pinks and blues. The sun was settling just over the horizon as you and Wally decided to part from each other.

You made your way back to Howdy’s Place, giving the caterpillar a quiet greeting. He was starting to close up shop, and you decided to help him - much to his dismay.

With the two of you, the shop was closed and cleaned in record time.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, his face bearing a proud smile. “You really help a lot, young grasshopper.”

You shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “You should eat some food. I think I have a spare salad in the back.”

You blinked at the thought of eating. Come to think of it, you didn’t feel hungry at all today.

How strange.

You decided to chock it up to stress from a new environment.

You thanked him for his generosity before wishing him a good night. You dipped into the backroom to locate the fresh greens. Chomping on the leaves, your mind wandered to the day.

The day felt… nice. Almost surreal.

You almost felt like you belonged.

But… you really should head home.

… Right … ?

#wally darling / reader #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home fanfic #wally darling #wh wally darling #wally darling x you #tw childhood trauma #tw scopophobia #tw alcohol #writing

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