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littlespoonevan · 24 days

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i'll keep it all to myself

7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)

“Hey, killer.”

Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“

“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”

Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.

Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”

“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.

“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.

Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.

“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“

“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”

Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.

Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’

But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.

“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”

“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”

Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”

“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.

They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.

He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.

“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”

“Oh, so you guys talked?”

Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.

“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”

Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”

The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 spoilers #7x04 #my fics #i wrote this in 20 mins and read it twice but here u go lmao #i will try to write a couple of the prompts/suggestions people sent me tomorrow when my brain is functioning normally again 😘

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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months

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Dark! Gojo Satoru x reader (Soulmate Au blurb)

(warnings: dark content, implied kidnapping, implied noncon, masochism)

I really like the idea of soulmates in the JJK world. They're rare, but the reason why they're so coveted is because they are the only person in the world who is immune to their soulmate's cursed technique.

Being Gojo's soulmate would be like hitting the jackpot, at first. You're a regular person, with no cursed energy. Maybe you and Satoru's hands bump into each other while you're at a cafe, grabbing your respective drinks. To you, it's just an accident. You apologize, make your way out.

To him, it's like submerging himself into an ice bath. For the first time in years, someone had gotten past his limitless technique. It was so unexpected, and real, and so warm.

Your hands were warm.

It's the thrill of it that gets him first. The unexpected. No one's ever come close to him. He is the summit of the mountain. The strongest. And yet, there you were, effortlessly able to bypass his barriers without even trying. With women, with Geto, he'd always have to turn his technique off. He'd have to let them do something to him. You could do anything to him, and his powers wouldn't even stop you. You could kick him, punch him, bite him. Anything you wanted, and for once, he'd be powerless to stop you.

He can't detect you with his six eyes. It makes the hunt even better when he catches up to you. It's days of stalking and harassment and the touching that finally makes you snap and slap him.

It hurts.

It hurts and he fucking loves it.

He already made up his mind days ago, but this only cemented it. When he finally takes you home, to his bed, it's euphoric. You scratch and bite and scream and hurt him over and over again. Hours later, when you've passed out from sheer exhaustion, he has more bruises than you do. They'll fade eventually, but that's okay.

You could always make more.

#dark content #yandere jjk #dark gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #mentioned masochistic tendencies #implied kindapping #implied non con #future fic ideas #gojo being bad person once again #me totally ignoring Gojo's actual powers once again

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wildechildwrites · 1 month

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Attitude Adjustment

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Light angst, violence

No use of Y/N

Summary: Ghost beats the shit out of you no I will not elaborate

A:N: Ghost's hands are rated E for everyone

AO3 Link: Attitude Adjustment

You're sitting in furious silence during the mission debrief, Gaz and Soap shooting you sympathetic glances that you pointedly ignore, Price's anger filling the room like natural gas, smothering you. Ghost leans against a wall, shadowed and silent.

Price finally dismisses everyone else with a bark, and you’re left alone with your fuming captain and his silent lieutenant, haunting your peripheral.

“You ignored a direct order.” Price’s voice is gruff, leaving no room for argument. You know you should apologize, but you can’t stomach it. Not when you saved his goddamn life.

“You think I was just going to let them kill you?” You ask, indignant. Price glares at you.

“I think, corporal, that you ignored a direct order from your commanding officer.” Price’s tone is sharp and dismissive.

"You put yourself and the rest of your team in danger. You could've been killed. You almost were."

“But sir–” You object, still trying to justify yourself. If he would just listen– Price shoots up from his desk, stabbing a finger towards the door.

“Don't fucking argue with me," He growls, chest heaving. "Get out."

You stand, stunned, feeling your traitorous tear ducts begin to sting. Ghost has offered nothing, and you catch his cold gaze before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind you.

You knew you were out of line, had vaulted out of order the moment you ignored Price, the moment you ignored every instinct the military had beaten into you, but it wasn't fair. He would’ve pulled the same stupid bullshit if the situation was reversed. You scrub angrily at your eyes, potent rage bubbling in your chest. He was singling you out on purpose, angry at you for something he would’ve excused had it been anyone else. You turn a corner, stomping down the hallway.

Soap is lingering near your room, acting far too interested in the leaky ceiling tiles. He spins around to face you when he hears your footsteps, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he can speak.

"Just don’t Johnny.” You snarl, aiming for a biting tone. It comes out as a plea, and the Scotsman gives you a pitying look that just stokes the rage curling in your chest. He steps in front of you, trying to slow your momentum, and you purposefully slam your shoulder into him, ignoring him as he calls after you.

You make a beeline for the gym, heading for a punching bag. Your fingers are numb, and you can’t stop shaking, so you throw yourself at the bag, hurling punch after punch.

“Price ripped into you good.” Ghost calls out from behind you. You jump, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder in response. You hadn’t heard him come in, unsure of how long he’s been standing there.

“You ripped into him right back.” He observes. His gaze is cold, prickling along your spine. You bite your tongue, landing a hard kick on the bag.

“Heard you also barked at Johnny.” He adds, as if an afterthought, his tone deceptively casual. You know then that you’re in real trouble. You’d been a bitch to Mactavish, and now Ghost was here to defend his honor. You roll your eyes, giving yourself that small amount of defiance before turning to face him.

He’s wrapping his hands, standing on the sparring mat closest to you. He cocks his head, eyes flat and expressionless, but the challenge is clear. You're angry enough to take the bait, abandoning your punching bag.

Ghost wordlessly gets into a fighting stance. You mirror him, waiting for the lecture, and the first blow almost knocks you on your ass.

You’ve sparred with Ghost before, but you don't think he's ever hit you that hard. It's staggering, and you double over slightly. Simon doesn’t give you a second to recuperate, throwing another punch. You barely dodge it, sliding under his arm, aiming for his ribs. You’re sloppy, and he blocks you, adding a shove to throw you off balance. It’s a dirty move, one that pisses you off even more, and you’re back on the defensive, protecting yourself as Simon throws another punch, harder than the first. You block it with more success, then move closer, aiming low. He blocks you again.

You’re panting, already exhausted from the mission, heat in your cheeks, anger building. Ghost has the advantage, twice your size and fucking mean, and you’re just trying to defend yourself. That’s all you’ve been doing all fucking day, defending yourself from your own goddamn team.

You kick him hard in the stomach. Ghost seems unaffected, those cold eyes unreadable. You throw another punch, putting all your weight into it, and he grabs your arm, using your momentum against you, flipping you over his shoulder. You slam onto your back on the mat.

“What the fuck Si-” you snap, and he kicks you in the ribs. You scramble backwards, trying to regain your footing as he advances on you.

“Price is too relieved that you’re still alive to give you a proper punishment for insubordination.” He says. "I have no such scruples."

Ghost’s blank expression doesn’t change, not even when he slams his boot into your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto your back again. You glare up at him, your chest heaving.

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“You need to remember who your superiors are,” Ghost continues evenly, ignoring you.

You go to stand, and he knocks you over once again. You practically snarl at him, shooting out and grabbing his leg. Using his body weight against him, you bring him crashing down onto the floor next to you, then slam your knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Your victory is cut short when Ghost grabs you and flips the two of you over, pinning you to the floor with his body weight.

“You scared all of us,” he says. His eyes are still flat and cold. “Pull something like that again, I’ll pop your shoulder out of socket.”

You grapple against him, cursing, but he just tightens his grip, pinning your arms. It hurts, your shoulders and ribs screaming, the air being crushed out of your lungs by the weight of the giant man on top of you, but you keep fighting him.

“Get off,” you rasp. Ghost leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Are you done being a brat?” He asks lowly. You manage to twist one of your hands enough to dig your fingernails into his stomach. In response, Ghost grabs your wrist, pulling your arm behind you with enough force to wrench your shoulder. You’re completely immobilized.

It’s all too much. The exhaustion and pain, the anxiety of the mission, the humiliation of being reprimanded, the indignant rage that’s been bubbling inside of you. Everything comes crashing down, tears you’ve been fighting all day suddenly pouring out. You let out an involuntary sob, and Simon lets up, just enough to allow you to breathe, keeping you pinned beneath him as your tears build up steam.

“There’s our girl,” he says, his gravelly voice uncharacteristically soft, almost frayed. It only makes you cry harder, keening wails muffled by the large man on top of you.You're confused at the sudden switch, overwhelmed and disoriented. He rubs comforting circles into your wrist, and you’re falling apart, coming unspooled.

You sob until you run out of tears, your cries trailing off into sniffling, and only then does Ghost let you up. The anxiety and anger is gone, leaving tender exhaustion, the soreness from the fight a tangible sensation, grounding you.

“I think a hot shower is in order, corporal” Ghost says gently, helping you to your feet. You’re wobbly, trailing after him on unsteady legs as he leads you to the locker room.

He leaves you to it, disappearing back into the gym, and you strip, letting the warm water wash off the rest of the day, standing under the stream until your eyes are drooping.

To your surprise, Ghost is waiting for you when you get out, eyes closed, head resting against the wall. He looks tired, his dark circles a bruised shade of purple, showing through the half smeared off black paint. He opens his eyes, expression unreadable, and you sit down next to him.

“Apologize to Soap, will ya? He’s gutted. Sensitive, that one,” Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes, but there’s real warmth behind the gruff, dismissive tone of voice. “And the next time you want a lashing, come straight to me instead of stomping about.”

Heat rises unexpectedly to your face, and you open your mouth to protest.

Simon holds up a finger, silencing you before you can say anything.

“Don’t fight me on it, we both know that’s what you needed. Price would've gladly taken you over his knee, but I figured you’d bite our heads clean off at the suggestion."

Your brain short circuits, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you stare at Ghost. He holds your gaze unflinchingly.

“I should, um,” you stutter, stumbling to your feet, “I should go find Soap.”

You practically run to the doors, and you swear as you step into the hallway you hear quiet laughter, echoing behind you.

#if I say this is a vent fic are yall gonna be weird #looney tunes pt 3 coming soon promise #ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #reader insert #ghost/reader #simon riley x reader

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galaxycunt · 7 months

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He’s My Thing

Posting this on tumblr as well as I seen people do it and I wanna know what is better here or AO3 for folks?

Part 2

Enjoy!

You first met him in a bar, not caring who he was at first. He didn’t have a high bounty at the time, the annoying clown cracking jokes and jabs at any pretty face before he landed on you. You threw in a jab about his nose, thinking it was fake. That was the first scar he gave you, a broken glass slicing your cheek. You broke a few fingers, and got you both kicked out.

”Fuck you bitch!”

”Bite my ass!”

Pretty soon, Buggy made a real name for himself. So did you. The next time you met, you heard of a terrifying circus act in a town raider by pirates. Who else would it fucking be? You pretended to be a victim, picking the lock on your shackles while he monologued. The circus wasn’t all that spectacular, you wondered why he ever bothered with it at all.

Slipping through the crowd, you followed Buggy to his green room. Before he could react, you sliced his throat. Expecting blood, you hear a laugh instead.

”You-“

Recognition flashed in his eyes, “the bitch from that bar. Come back to finish the job?”

You sliced the arm he held around you, popping back into place like nothing happened.

”Is that? Y-You ate-,” you stuttered.

”Surprised?”

You didn’t think those even existed, your mind racing for your next move. It was made for you, Buggy stabbing your stomach. You been stabbed before, fighting through the shock. You stab him back, punching his nose for good measure. He let you go in pain, long enough to escape.

His arm flew to your throat, slamming you to the ground. You weren’t about to be killed by a fucking clown. Biting down on his arm, he loosened his grip enough for you to kick it away.

You never ran so fast in your life, figuring it was way too easy the way you dodged body parts. He was toying with you. You ran to the docks, jumping into the ocean. He didn’t follow you there, the stories were right. He couldn’t swim. You swam under the dock, floating as you heard him swear and stomp.

The salt stung, your ribs hurt. He was going to pay for that. He wasn’t going to be the one laughing anymore.

You hid again, months later. Another show, another town demolished. It made you sick, the more you did this job, the more you hated pirates. The more you hated him.

Buggy stood in the spotlight, in another life he’d be handsome. Sparkling eyes scanning the crowd for a victim. You locked eyes, the creased greasepaint spreading on his face with a smile.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! The incorrigible pirate hunter is with us yet again! Come on down, sweetheart.”

You smiled at him, “you can’t get rid of me that easy honey.”

He draped his arm around you, like you were both old friends. You’d believe it if he treated his friends like this anyway. With a flourish, he gestured to your act.

”Since you love knives so much, I figure this one is right up your alley.”

”I’m gonna make you eat that big, red nose of yours, clown.”

He laughed, and the adrenaline caused you to also. You couldn’t deny the rush chasing these pirates down gave you, Buggy was like a cat playing with a mouse. You just needed him to stick his hand in the wrong trap.

”I have to say, that scar highlights your face beautifully.”

“You ever find that pinky? Or is it still at the bottom of the ocean?”

He smiled turning to his audience, “now folks, this lovely assistant of mine has no fear of silly little knives so…it’s time to up the ante.”

Meat cleavers, how cliche. You willingly let yourself get tied up to the wheel, Buggy studying your face. Now he was the one thinking this was all too easy. You closed your eyes as the wheel spun, standing still as the blades hit the wood with a loud thunk.

”What you playing at? Huh?”

”Maybe I just like the show so much, I always loved the circus.”

He laughed, “of course you do. Is that all though?”

”Maybe I have something you want.”

”Go on.”

A knife landed near your head, you opened your eyes to face the pirate. He had one more left, he could aim it anywhere. You still liked your odds.

”The map your been looking for. A log pose too.”

The look on his face was worth it, he stumbled his throw causing him to hit your leg. You grit your teeth, a smile on your face. Buggy shouted for his crew to take you back to the ship. You never been on his before, circus themed of course. The crew’s doctor worked quickly, with frown letting you know the knife cut to the bone.

When you woke up in his cabin, your leg was gone. Of course it was. Buggy seemed to take and take and you got nothing in return. You considered your options carefully, wondering how you can kill the bastard once and for all. At the very least you could take his head and ask the marines to let you toss it into the ocean. Either scenario worked for you.

”Where’s my map?”

”You took my leg, Bugs. Let’s call it even.”

He gazed at your leg, a frown on his face.

“Sorry about that. I really am.”

You both knew it was a lie, but you felt weak. You needed to stay on his good side, at least for now.

”You’re the only devil fruit user I know, I knew what I was getting into.”

Saving the best for last right?

”You couldn’t let me go, I suppose your type never does.”

”Says the guy chasing after a fairy tale.”

He sat down on the bed, “oh it’s real alright. So about my map…”

”Buggy, let me rest. At least get a girl a drink first. Don’t glass me this time neither.”

He sighed, getting up to find a bottle of rum that he usually kept around. He toasted you before taking a swig, the both of you taking turns drinking.

“So why offer this to me anyway, hm?”

You smirk, “you know what they say, if you can’t beat them, join them.”

”Is that right?”

”Oh yeah, I seen your act plenty of times to know it needs work. I can make you shine, baby.”

He laughed, “tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

”What’s the matter, don’t like this thing we got going anymore?”

He leaned closer to whisper, “if all you wanted was a ride that’s all you had to say.”

”Think I got it bad for clowns, huh?”

”I think you got it bad for me.”

You had him right where you wanted him. Leaning forward, grabbing his scarf to pull him close.

”I think you gotta earn my forgiveness first, baby,” you said, pushing him away.

“And how can I do that?”

You briefly wondered if he was truly as flustered as he looked. You didn’t think he’d fold this quickly. You needed to test this out.

”Maybe…let me stay here awhile. Rest up. My map is hidden in a safe place. Maybe I can take you there if you play nice.”

You kissed his lips, Buggy stared at you like you were crazy. Before he said a word you held up your hand.

”But, hey. I’m tired, I have a lost limb to scream about now.”

You never told him what exactly were the magic words to make the map appear, the next few days you slept in his bed while you recovered. Buggy forced to sleep in his chair, you didn’t care, quick to motion at the wood leg someone on the crew carved for you.

He tried; buttering you up, training with you to become stronger, flirting endlessly. It was all annoying, you never spent so much time around one person before. You decide to see how far his begging will go, allowing him to share the bed with you.

One morning you wake up before him, the sunlight shining through the tiny window. Buggy was still asleep, facing your direction. It had been weeks, and you still had not really gotten to know him. He never questioned your change of heart, you probably both expected a stab in the back at any moment.

He was handsome, in his own way. You brushed the hair from his face, causing him to shimmy closer to you. You backed up, unsure of what he meant by that. You gazed at your hands, unsure of why you did that in the first place anyway.

With a groan, you swing your legs to the side, rubbing the nub gently. It was still taking some time to get used to, wishing you had his powers.

“You okay?”

“Go back to bed, Buggy. It’s cool.”

So he was a light sleeper after all, good to know. You couldn’t kill him yet, wondering if he’d be lulled into safety at all.

Your felt his eyes on you as you changed clothes. You let him think he was being sneaky, bending down on purpose to find your pants.

“Nice ink.”

“Bite my ass.”

”With pleasure.”

You both laughed, you throwing a shirt at his head. His smile was honest, cute even. This was going to be easier than you thought.

”Buggy, I have a map I want you to look over.”

”You mean?”

”Well,” you smiled, “a map to a map.”

He kissed you, “you have no idea what this means to me.”

You pushed him away, “thank me later.”

While he wasn’t looking, you wiped your mouth. He never done that before, men were too easy to trick. A guy like that was easy to mold into whatever you wanted.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

”Aye, aye. Captain.”

The way to the island you hid everything on was a long one. You planned this out carefully. Buggy didn’t know you had a sloop for you waiting, after you’d burn everything he worked for to the ground.

Buggy was none the wiser, letting you get closer. You never spoke about the two kisses shared, trying to find the right time. His lips on yours flustered you like no other, leaving you to chalk it up to nerves. He caught you staring at him more than once, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face permanently.

”What you doing here by your lonesome?”

You sighed, “needed some air. It’s nice to see the moon too, you know?”

He leaned against the railing, “yeah. Beautiful sight.”

You turned to see him looking straight at you, causing you to snort.

”Give me a fucking break.”

”Got plenty more where that came from, sweetheart.”

You slide your arms up his, “tell me, why keep me alive this long?”

”You’re crew, ain’t ya?”

”Before that.”

He nodded with a laugh, “oh that. Water under the bridge, bygones and all that shit.”

”Tell me.”

He looked shy, wringing his hands. Like he was trying to spit the words out, but couldn’t.

“If anyone’s gonna kill you. It’s me. You’re the uh, one that got away.”

You pushed him playfully, “give me a real reason.”

”You first.”

You inhale deeply, “you ruined my life. I mean, fuck Buggy. Look at me. I underestimated you, and look where that got me. You and your…goofy bullshit.”

“You’re not ruined.”

You huffed a laugh, “course not, you’re the only one who got this close anyway. You were my first, in a way.”

”Interesting.”

”Don’t read into it too much,” you spat.

You turned to go to bed, dreading him following you. You had to stick to the plan. Make yourself less of a threat. He stopped you, gently holding your wrist. Before you could say anything, he kissed you. Slipping your tongue in his mouth, you clung to his jacket.

Eventually he pulled back, eyes scanning your face. You kiss again, Buggy gripping your hair this time. He led you down below deck, to your bed.

He took his time with you, roaming every inch of exposed skin. Your eyes peeled open, making sure his was closed. You checked to see if your knives were close, just in case. You weren’t expecting the shove he gave before crawling on top of you. His hands quick to unbuckle and unbutton everything you had on.

“H-hold up. Stop.”

”What, what‘s wrong?” he panted.

“What are we doing?”

”What I wanted to do years ago,” he dove for your neck, nibbling on an ear lobe.

You couldn’t help the moan from escaping, refusing to let go of control, you worked on his own clothes. Soon you became a tangle of limbs, you kicking off your pant leg the best you could off your shoe. It was a complete mess, he didn’t care at all. It was like you were the only thing in the room.

“Take those stupid gloves off,” you said.

He did so in a flash, massaging a nipple. His fingers brushed against a scar, from someone that wasn’t him, but you let him think whatever he wanted. Your fingers did the same, the healed bullet wound on his side was from you.

“You’re so beautiful.”

”Bet you say that to all the bounty hunters.”

”Only ones naked in bed with me, which should happen more than it does. Eh, what can you do?”

You roll your eyes, wishing to shut him up. You gave his cock a few strokes, which seemed to do the job. Buggy unraveled before you, you liked seeing him this way. Your victory short lived, as he found your clit. You weren’t going to praise him for a good job, and he was determined to make it happen.

He was edging you closer, your movements getting sloppy. You moaned again, letting yourself have this release.

“That’s it. Cum on that shit.”

You pulled him closer, ready to lose your mind. Buggy encouraged you, kissing and biting your neck. You came and he kept going, fingers slipping inside you. You slapped his chest, but he didn’t let up thrusting his fingers.

”Buggy fuck me right now.”

”Yes, ma’am.”

He rammed into you, unpleasant until he lifted up your hips. He was hitting your sweet spot, and you hated how much fun you were having. You bit his lip as you kissed him, Buggy was louder than you expected in bed. Moaning at every thrust and bite and pull.

“Can I cum in you?”

”What? No, no. On my chest. Or something. Not in me.”

He mumbled an apology, speeding up. The feel of him sliding out sent shivers down your spine, his cum messily spilt all over you.

He kissed your lips gently before getting up to clean you off. Looking down you groaned at the make up and cum all over you. You were gross, he was gross.

Ships didn’t have showers, you cleaned up the best you could with a towel and bucket. You almost didn’t recognize the reflection in the mirror, a blissed out face looking back at you. You wanted to smash it.

Retuning under the covers, Buggy cuddled close to you, kissing you sweetly. You didn’t get it, couldn’t understand it. Was the sea really that lonely?

You let him hold you as you fell asleep, still tangled up with him in the morning. You almost didn’t want to get up, trapped in the warmth. Something stirred in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t name it. He held you close to his chest, and you didn’t mind.

”Hey baby.”

You sighed, “hey.”

He gently stroked your cheek, his eyes gazing at you in a way that made you squirm. You rested on his chest, facing away from him. He didn’t seem to care, petting your head.

”How much longer to my hidey hole?”

He chuckled, “be there in a day.”

You smiled warmly, “perfect.”

”Oh yeah? Any genius plans in that head of yours?”

You pushed him off you, twirling your hair, “I dunno, any reason we should be leaving this bed anytime soon?”

That seemed to set him off, lips roaming down your stomach. He ate you out like a starving man, you cursed yourself for enjoying it way too much. You wanted to wipe that shit eating grin off his face, riding his cock until he saw stars.

You didn’t like the way Buggy looked at you when you allowed him to cum inside you this time. Deciding that you couldn’t trust a thing he was going to say to you until you arrived at that island.

The rest of the day, he left you alone, stealing glances when he could. You felt pity for him, the cane in your hand reminded you of your resolve. Buggy was going to pay.

As night fell, he found you on the deck again. His arms wrapped around your waist this time. You leaned against him, waiting for him to speak first. Feeling his heart beat loudly in his chest, caused yours to match. You awaited a blade, but it never came.

”I haven’t been to the Grand Line since I was young.”

”How’d you survive that one?”

He laughed in your ear, “I served on a pirate crew. I think you can guess which one.”

This surprised you, “no shit? Roger pirates, makes sense. You people are hard to kill. I had no idea.”

”I’m an open book baby, just gotta ask.”

”So why haven’t you killed me yet?”

You twisted around to face him, inches from his face. He took you in, a dazed look in his face as he remembered your past.

”And snuff out the most beautiful person in the world? I’m bad, baby, not evil.”

”Fuck you, Buggy.”

”I…I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “no, fuck you. You can’t keep dancing around this!”

”You started it! Why can’t you just fucking let go then?”

“No one makes a fucking fool out of me!”

”No one is!”

You slap him, the shock letting you wiggle out. He shouted after you, running to the cabin before he could stop you from locking it. Your leg hurt, causing the dam to finally break. You were a failure, you let some fucking clown be your undoing. You collected bounties all over the East Blue, you even got a card from Baroque Works.

How stupid are you?

”Hey, please don’t cry,” said the voice behind the door.

”Look I-I’m trying okay? I’m making it up to you, aren’t I? How about next town, you’re the main act? I can teach you to juggle!”

”Stop making it seem like I’m some stupid little girl. I vowed to destroy you, got it?”

He was silent for a few moments, you groaned. Why were you acting like a little bitch? You couldn’t kill him now, you weren’t in the state to take on his whole crew.

”Baby, let me in please.”

You unlocked the door, gesturing to the empty room. Buggy carefully sat on the bed, patting the space beside him. You let him hold your hands as he crafted what to say.

”Look, I get it. I get betrayal. But I won’t, I promise. The past, is the past. But you and me, this thing now? That’s all that matters.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, an easy fuck and he’s suddenly so into you? How stupid did he think you were?

”You were a worthy enemy, and you’re so much more now.”

You smile, “sure.”

”I mean it.”

You could probably kill him now, the ship will arrive in the morning. Slip out before anyone knows. Make him pay for everything.

You kissed him, Buggy humming with joy. You’ll miss his eyes, and the rest of his stupid face. You fuck again that night, Buggy promising you the world. A few sweet praises, and he figured all was forgiven.

You convinced him to travel just the two of you, a promise of a little fun. As expected, he agreed. You had a map from someone long ago, the log pose you won in a fight. Buggy couldn’t do the things you could do. He never could.

”You wanna dig for it now? Buried treasure, pretty clever huh?”

”You ain’t helping?”

You motioned to your leg.

”Oh, shit. Sorry.”

He dug for 20 minutes, making him good and tired. Silently you pulled out the pistol hidden in your coat.

”Baby, how far you dig this fucking thing anyway?”

He paused when he heard that click. Turning around slightly, he didn’t see the shot coming. With a scream he fell down, you swung hard, the shovel quickly chopped off his head.

”You bitch! You fucking bitch!”

”Oh shut up, Buggy! You were gonna kill me anyway!”

”No I wasn’t! I might now you goddamn cunt!”

You shook his head, “whatever. I’m collecting that bounty.”

He screamed in a rage, his detached body struggling to stand up. You looked toward the shore, you had time to drag his body to the sea. He wouldn’t get up now.

His head fell silent, you glanced down to see the heart break on his face.

”Oh fuck off, don’t act like it meant anything.”

”Sure.”

”Oh what? Like you mean it? Like you actually cared about me at all?”

”I did.”

You shook his head, “I lost my leg! I lost my strength! You took it from me!”

”You took my heart and now my head, guess we’re even now!”

”You better not say what I think you’re gonna say!”

He spat at you, and causing you to cry out toward the sky.

”To think I let myself believe you were different.”

“You did this to me, Buggy.”

He winced, still feeling his body getting cold now. He looked up at you, you refused to meet his eyes.

”Do me a favor huh? Before I kick the bucket.”

”What?”

”Kiss me, one last time.”

You held his head up to your face, the sadness in his eyes you couldn’t bear to see. Tears rolled down his face as you kissed him tenderly. Reluctantly, you separated.

”I love you,” he whispered.

You set him in a bag as you readied your ship. Glancing back at the head of the man you seemed tied to by fate. Did he mean what he said? Did you love him too?

You burst into tears, running as fast as you could with the bag in your arms. You opened it up, so he could attach again. With surprise, Buggy watched as you carried him to the boat. You apologized between sobs, blood wetting your fingers.

You didn’t explain to the ship’s doctor what happened. Buggy never giving it away himself. You were going to die for this, and you accepted it. Maybe that was all that needed to be done to be free of him forever.

You didn’t leave his side, just like he didn’t leave yours. You should’ve known better, it was there in front of you all along.

He woke up late at night to you sleeping on the chair bedside. Various emotions swirled inside him as he gently nudged you awake.

”Buggy, oh thank god!” you rubbed his arm, “how you feeling?”

”Fine uh, care to explain what the fuck was that?”

You blush, shrinking in the chair. How were you ever coming back from that?

”I…had a plan. And a back up, in case it didn’t work out.”

”Was there even a fucking map?”

“Yes, for me more than you.”

You stared at each other, afraid of each other now. You desperately wanted things to go back to what they were. Carefully you hooked his hand with yours. You placed something in his palm.

He scoffed at your gift, his missing pinky.

”Get the fuck out.”

You nod, “that’s fair. Buggy, I…did you mean it? What you said?”

He swallowed hard, “does it fucking matter?”

”Yes,” you whisper, “because I do. Even if you don’t, I do.”

The tears fell again, Buggy turning his head away. You stand up, slowly heading out the door. You knew how to make this right, hoping he wouldn’t hoist the anchor as soon as you were gone.

In the pitch black dark, you finished up where you started. The pain in your leg was nothing compared to the one in your chest. You hobbled pathetically back to the cabin, looking the sorriest you ever felt as you presented what you promised.

”I can fuck off forever now, or…”

”Or?”

You swallow a nervous laugh, “I can make it up to you. You can even shoot me back.”

He laughed, “I got all my pieces with me now. Guess that’s payback enough.”

You nod, “permission to stay?”

”Yeah, sure.”

He didn’t look at you, and you decide against coming closer.

“I’ll just go find a place to sleep…”

”No, don’t. You don’t have to, not with your bum leg.”

”Buggy…I’m sorry.”

He motioned you over, letting you drape an arm over him.

He closed his eyes, “we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

”Oh, okay.”

He held your hand to his lips, “you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

You let out a sigh of relief, easing into the mattress. Soon enough sleep claimed you, body and mind ready for whatever you got coming to you. All that mattered in this moment was Buggy in your arms.

You made it through the night alive, still shaky from the events that unfolded. Buggy pulled you closer, not wanting to wake up. He was going to be the death of you, one way or another.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece

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8-rae-rae-8 · 2 months

Note

BABBBEEESSSS

HONEYBEEEEEE

FIGHTER AU?!?!!YOURE BRAIN SO BIGGGGG

IT WAS A THOUGHT

I haven't expanded much upon it but I will !!! (Hopefully...)

Im gunna tell you who's most careful with their fighters

First we have Laswell. She pulls Kyle out of a few fights when she notices the opponent isn't going by the rules, or has seriously hurt him. She doesn't let him fight with a concussion. Kyle is viscous, yes, but he's calculated. Not scrappy. He knows where each punch is gunna land and he easily anticipates opponent movement.

Then, very surprising, we have Roba. He cannot let his prized possession get too damaged. Simon's scarred up already, yes, and he's a machine at work, but Roba has him trained for that. And when he's done, he's done. Even when Simon is pulling back and trying to knock out the opponent. Like a dog fighting on a leash. It doesn't matter how many bruises or blood he's covered in, Simon wants to fight.

Then it's Price, He doesn't have the same restraint, we'll say. He wants the opponent down just as much as Johnny needs it. But he's by far the most encouraging and will gladly tend to wounds. He gives Johnny a safe and warm place to sleep at night, hot meals and a comfy bed.

And finally, Shepherd. He's the real animal, really. It doesn't matter if Graves can't walk, he will get in that ring, damnit. There is no warm bed for him to sleep in. He only gets bandaged up when it's severe. Three of his bones are held together with metal. But he's out there anyway. He's angry, and fucking scrappy. He bites, he scratches, he hits and kicks all messy. It didn't matter as long as he won, Shepherd would tell him. He'd only be taken out to be scolded and then immediately thrown back in. Unless he was unconscious.

#🫣😳blushing /j #fighting ring au #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #general shepherd #phillip graves #john price #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #manuel roba

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wrestlingisfake · 19 days

Text

A brief history of CM Punk-AEW drama

Saw someone ask for a full recap of the Punk/AEW drama. So I spent an hour writing a decent summary, and by the time I finished they deleted the post I was trying to reblog. That's okay, I get it. But since I put in the work I'm just gonna make my own post, in case anyone else has questions.

I have tried to keep this as unbiased as possible, with a summary of the discourse at the end. If anybody needs more clarification on anything you can send me an ask.

CM Punk signed with AEW in 2021. Right away a big issue that came up was his ex-friend Colt Cabana. (Long story.) By early 2022, rumors began to swirl among the wrestlers that Punk was using his star power to get Cabana pushed out of the company. Cabana's friends in the company assumed the rumors were true and resented Punk. This came to a head in May 2022, when Adam Page referenced the rumors on live TV, in a segment with Punk. By this point Punk's relationship with Page and the Young Bucks was damaged beyond repair.

On September 4, 2022, during the post-show scrum for All Out, Punk aired his grievances with the Young Bucks (always referring to them as "the EVPs") and Adam Page. Punk clearly believed the Bucks manufactured the "Punk is trying to force Cabana out" story and leaked it to wrestling news sites to turn the locker room against Punk. Punk closed by saying that if anybody had a problem with him, he had an "open door" policy, and he'd be in his dressing room. The Bucks and fellow EVP Kenny Omega went to see him. A fight broke out. Everyone involved--even people who just tried to break it up--was suspended for a while (except Punk, who was going to be sidelined for months for a torn triceps either way).

We don't have much solid information about the September 2022 fight. Most reports I read suggest Punk and his friend Ace Steel made it physical, with Punk punching one of the Bucks (maybe both, I can't remember) and Steel throwing a chair and biting Omega. One account said the Bucks kicked the door open, unwittingly hitting Punk's dog in the face and knocking several teeth loose, which would have provoked Punk's side. It's also been suggested that since Steel's wife was in the room and in no condition to flee a potential three-on-two ambush, this could have made Steel and Punk feel they had to come out swinging. There is no footage of the fight, but there were neutral parties who witnessed it (notably including AEW's chief legal officer, Megha Parekh). Everyone involved signed NDAs and can't/won't talk about it on the record.

For the next nine months, it wasn't clear if Punk wanted to come back to AEW, or if AEW wanted to bring him back. Lots of people suggested that Punk and the three EVPs could talk it out and then make a lot of money turning it into a fake wrestling feud. But Omega and the Bucks showed no interest in talking to Punk or working with him. Ultimately Punk returned in June 2023 on a new show, Collision. The idea was that the EVPs (and anyone else who couldn't co-exist with Punk) would stay on Dynamite, and Punk would have carte blanche on Collision.

Within a couple of months, reports emerged about backstage issues involving Punk. The main one that blew up involved Jack Perry, who was always tight with the Bucks, and was typically on Dynamite, and not on Collision. Perry had vacation time scheduled and wanted to shoot an angle to explain his absence, in which HOOK would throw him into a car windshield. For some reason it didn't get done on a Dynamite taping, so arrangements were made to shoot it at a Collision taping. Everybody who thought the windshield spot with real glass was a bad idea asked Punk to talk Perry out of it. It's not clear whether Tony Khan approved the spot for Dynamite, or rescheduling it for Collision, or allowing Punk to have the last word. Ultimately the windshield spot was canceled.

On August 31, 2023, Perry wrestled Hook at All In, and they finally did the windshield spot that Punk previously nixed. Perry went out of his way to reference the earlier story, saying "You know what this is? Real glass! Go cry me a river," as if daring Punk to do something about it. After the match, Perry went behind the curtain just as Punk and Samoa Joe were getting ready for their match. By all accounts, Punk complained to Perry, Perry was like "what are you going to do about it?" and Punk decided that justified starting a fight. It was broken up very quickly, and then Punk got all hostile with Tony Khan, saying "this place is a joke and you're a clown." Punk was asked to leave, and within a week he had been terminated with cause.

The "CM Punk did nothing wrong" position, generally speaking, is that AEW is severely mismanaged, with Tony Khan allowing the Young Bucks and their friends to do a lot of dumb bullshit, leaving Punk no choice but to take matters into his own hands. Punk's enemies within AEW conspired to turn the locker room against him, and used wrestling news outlets to spread anti-Punk stories to turn the fandom against him. In any case, Punk is the biggest star AEW has ever signed (if not the biggest star AEW will ever sign), and it was bad for business to let him get so discouraged.

The "Punk screwed Punk" position, generally speaking, is that his grievances with AEW management stopped mattering whenever he resorted to physical force. His Bruiser Brody approach to throwing his weight around is backward and outdated in the 2020s (and didn't even end well for Brody in the 1980s). His assumption that the Bucks planted anti-Punk stories in the media is unfounded, and rather paranoid. He resents the EVPs for lawyering up instead of burying the hatchet, even though he feels totally justified taking the same approach with Colt Cabana. Basically, Punk thinks he can do what he likes, and anyone else who does the same against Punk's wishes is a snake, a clown, or soft.

Splitting the difference between these takes: Everybody should have talked this out by early 2022, before it got out of hand. Tony Khan should have gotten out in front of the the "Punk is trying to get rid of Cabana" rumors before they got online. Punk and Cabana should have come to terms on how they would co-exist as soon as Punk joined the company. Adam Page should not have bottled up his grievances until he was on live TV, and Punk should not have bottled up his resentment about that until a media scrum. Once it got past that point, and the first fight happened, Khan needed to take charge and settle it, immediately. He needed to choose, in September 2022, between keeping Punk aboard at all costs, or showing Punk who's boss at all costs. Instead, he tried to have it both ways for a year, until Punk made that impossible.

#aew #cm punk #brawl out #brawl in #i don't really like the names 'brawl out' and 'brawl in' tbh #but those are the names everyone uses so there you go

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 28 days

Text

Part 2 of the one shot.

Warning. Smut!

Yandere Norman Nordstrom x Younger Female Reader

Kidnapping and obsessive love.

Romance. Women loves romance. Norm smiled at the thought of you blushing and giggling. Maybe if he goes to the store and gets some fresh red roses. He doesn't use candles since he doesn't really care about perfume scented air much. So, he should get some too at the arts and crafts store.

Watermelon or strawberry scented candles. Both would be nice. Nodding in determination, Norm sat inside his Lamborghini and then suddenly an emergency alert came from his cell phone. Out of fear, it showed you running away from the mansion as you destroyed the bathroom window. All his windows were bullet proof except the window in the bathrooms because sometimes his security dogs would jump over them to come inside the mansion.

You slick cunning cock!

Gritting his straight teeth in anger, Norm drove as fast as he could while watching his cellphone screen. You were running across his large front garden so you can reach his neighbor's mansion.

He can make it. He then realized how dark it was and that the full moon gave him advantage to spot you from the distance.

Ungrateful bitch. He didn't rape you or hit you minus the times you attacked him. Like biting his tongue when he was trying to French kiss you. Or when you kneed him in the balls. Ouch. That Fuckin' hurt. It didn't hurt as much as the pain inside his chest. You broke his heart again.

You collapsed on your knees from all the running. Tch. Pathetic Norm thought. You were so damn spoiled and weak that you never exercised unlike him. You were not averagely healthy or athletic. He doesn't need his car. Norm turned off his car and jumped out and ran at full speed.

"Huh?" You looked over your delicate and frail shoulder to see your kidnapper! How did he find out?

You tried to get up but he tackled your lithe and supple body hard against the grass floor hard. You tried to scream but suddenly, he slapped you!

You yelped in pain and then stared up to see his handsome face looking at you in anger.

You clutched your face despite making the pain worse. You froze your resistance and then silently sobbed. You didn't want to make him more mad by crying loud so you tried to hide your hiccups but it was no use

Norm's beautiful blue eyes widened in shock. He stared at the back of his hand in disbelief. He hit a woman and not only that. The woman he loved.

He watched in pity as you slumped and didn't fight back as you cradled your injured cheek. If he wasn't sure ashamed of his harshness he would have thought of you trying to be quiet from crying oddly cute.

But, now he felt regret. Without a word, he slung you over his muscular shoulder like a sack of potatoes and you didn't kick or wiggled like the previous times you ran away but was captured.

You gave up.

And he knew.

He didn't mean to break your spirit. But, you were so scared to give him a chance. That was all he wanted.

He went to the entrance of his mansion greenhouse at the center of his front yard garden. He kicked the door open and slammed you down on the floor to sit on your ass. You hissed in pain.

You looked up to see his powerful figure fuming and looking down on you. "Why?" He hissed through his teeth. "I gave you all my love yet you reject me. Why do you resist me? I'd die for you."

Your lips trembled in fear. Norm wasn't having it. He clenched his jaw.

"Why!?" He roared.

You flinched. "I..." You hiccuped and felt tears down your beautiful sculpted cheekbones. "I can't love someone I fear."

You saw that your words hurt him. A Navy Seal was wounded by a weak and spoiled lady like yourself. How strange.

"You don't get it, do you?" Norm's voice cracked as he looked away for a second and then you saw his saddened expression. Your heart burned at the sight.

"I love you, Dammit!" He punched the glass wall of the greenhouse. You yelped. You saw the glass shatter and his fist bloodied. "My life was better before I realized you exist. You ruined my life!"

You sniffed. "I am sorry, Norm." You looked at the ground.

Norm sighed in exhaustion. He then crouched down on one knee to your level and grabbed your chin gently despite smearing your chin with his blood from his injured fist.

You blinked in curiosity. He smiled a little as he unbuttoned his shirt. You couldn't help but stare. His top body was carved like Roman sculptors of Ancient Greek Gods. Ares especially. The God of war.

Holy shit.

You ogled. Norm liked that look on you. He knew you were getting horny. But his body was not all he had to offer you.

There across his chest was bold calligraphy letters of your name. How long was it there?

He did all this for you? He was serious about you.

He grabbed your hand gently and placed it over his heart.

It was dominant and strong like his body and personality.

"I can't control the pace of my heart whenever I think of you. Pity me at least." He pleaded you with large puppy blue eyes.

You felt your womanhood wetten and your throat dry. Is this love?

Norm was waiting for your response. To his surprise and pleasure you leaned your beautiful face close to his pink dry lips.

"Same." You whispered.

Norm couldn't believe his ears. This was a dream come true. You kissed him. Holy shit.

Without a second, Norm kissed back with fever and he grabbed your head and lashed his tongue inside your mouth.

"You're mine now." He ripped your nightgown off. Surrounded by plants in the open air being watched by the full moon was a fairy tale where you lost your first time.

After done, Norm carried you bridal style to the bedroom he shared with you and while you were spent, he drove to the emergency room for stitches.

#norman nordstrom #norman Nordstrom x reader #yandere #don't breathe #blind man #stephen lang #x reader #imagine #yandere x reader

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storiesofsvu · 7 months

Text

Best Friend Duty

Requested. Platonic!Harvard!Barhoun Rita Calhoun x Rafael Barba besties. Could technically be read as a previous relationship or the beginning of a romantic relationship, but also just as besties. Cause lets be real, these two are besties who have fucked at least once. No real warnings, just some sickness, and a teeeeeeny glimpse of isolated childhood. Obvious sass & language.

Rafael had almost been confused when he’d come home to a quiet apartment, Rita was usually awake late, pouring over case studies, law journals, writing papers or going over mock arguments. Instead he was met with just a lamp in the corner of the living room, an open text book on the coffee table beside a nearly full bowl of pasta, silence and darkness echoing through the rest of the apartment. Glancing down the hallway he noticed that Rita’s bedroom door was shut, no light coming from under it and he almost wondered if she’d finally decided to go out on a school night.

Knowing she wouldn’t care; he tossed the food into the microwave to scarf down as his own very late dinner, glancing through what she’d been studying before disappearing, unsurprised to find it was related to the most recent essay assignment they had. Frowning, he took another bite of pasta, that was one thing he’d always enjoyed since moving in with Rita for their third year at Harvard, getting to come home and go over law material, courses and assignments with each other. When he lived in the dorms he was stuck with randoms, not necessarily the same department, year or interests. With Rita he felt at home, at peace and despite her not having a single maternal bone in her body, he felt taken care of. Her coming home with extra groceries when he was having trouble balancing work with school, his paycheques taking a hit because of it, bribing him into shopping trips on the weekends because he had a better fashion sense than her girlfriends. Those trips that always ended up with her commenting that he’d need a good suit to kick off his career, slowly building up his wardrobe one piece at a time as a thank you. Having someone around who understood how his brain worked, someone who was respectable, quiet and knew to keep the lights low when he’d been studying too long and his migraines were starting to settle in.

It balanced out because the best she could do in the kitchen was scrambled eggs, peanut butter toast, vegetables thrown together randomly to be called a salad, or unseasoned shrimp and rice on a good day. Rafael started adding things to the grocery list a few weeks into moving in, appreciating that she always picked the things up so he could cook them actual, seasoned and delicious food. Shopping balanced out because he really did have a good fashion sense, even if it was more impacted by Rita, and his memory was impeccable, he’d be able to spot a pair of earrings that would go with a suit she’d bought months ago, forgotten at the back of her closet. And while she was guiding him through his migraines, he was the one who would always make sure she actually ate, that coffee was brewed at the beginning of the day, that she put away the textbooks and go to bed sometime before dawn if they had class the next day.

Things were completely platonic, but they loved each other, and they knew they always would. Best friends from the moment they met despite what society’s expectations would say, hell, despite what some of their classmates would say. They belonged in each others lives, they helped take care of each other, work through the toughest times together and they would always be there for each other.

Which is why when Rafael rolled over in the middle of the night and his arm hit something that wasn’t a pillow, he wasn’t totally confused. He groaned softly, shifting on the bed, his eyes scrunching tightly shut in an attempt to hold onto his sleep, his hand finding Rita’s elbow, rubbing gently as he relaxed into the pillows.

“Did you really have to punch me in the tit?” She grumbled and he let out a huff.

“You’re the one invading my bed.” He groaned, “what’re you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She replied, a hoarse cough breaking up her words, “my room’s freezing. I’m freezing.”

Rafael wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush to her before his hand wandered up, the back of it resting against her forehead, “you’re burning up.”

“Shut up.” Rita mumbled, readjusting so she was comfortable in his arms, “lemme sleep.”

“So… you snuck into my room at four a.m. to what? Cuddle….?” He chuckled.

“I came into your room for comfort, and for warmth.” Her fingers pinched at his wrist, “so can we just go back to sleep?”

“Sure.” Rafael laughed softly, squeezing at her softly, “you know you’re cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

“Will you just hold me!” Rita let out a near whine and he could hear her voice breaking, frowning as he knew there were likely tears building in her eyes. It wasn’t often that Rita behaved like this, that she felt like this, that she desired to depend on someone else. It was clear to Rafael by the time his eyes were shutting again that she definitely wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, his arm winding tightly around her waist, making sure she was fully in his embrace as they fell back asleep.

Rita didn’t wake up until the early afternoon, the bed empty but blankets wrapped tightly around her, a sealed bottle of water sat on the nightstand beside a pack of Tylenol and it appeared Rafael had even gone to the length of grabbing the portable heater from her room to make sure she was no longer freezing. She definitely wasn’t, she felt almost sticky with sweat, her mouth dry and her head throbbing as she ever so slowly rolled over to grab the medicine and water. Her throat was on fire as she swallowed, the pills barely making it down and she groaned before breaking into a small coughing fit, wincing at the pain in her chest already. Whatever this was, it was hitting her hard and hitting her fast. Her only positive thought was that if came on this quickly maybe it would be gone within twenty four hours.

The coughing alerted Rafael that she was finally awake, the door creaking open and his head popping through it to see how she was, “are you up, up or just taking meds?”

“Up, up.” She replied with a groan, “I feel disgusting, I need to shower.” She attempted to push herself to her feet but swayed heavily and Raf darted through the room, an arm winding around her waist.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m fine.” She insisted and he chuckled.

“You snuck into my bed in the middle of the night to be held, there’s clearly something wrong with you.”

“Shut it.” A small laugh broke out on her lips but it was just as quickly turned into another coughing fit, Rafael’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her back until she’d calmed down.

“Okay, let’s get you into the bathroom, at the very least the steam from the shower might help loosen some of that up and if you’re too dizzy a lazy washcloth shower will do, you’re just gonna sweat through your next sleep again anyways.”

“Are you planning to stay glued to my side the whole day? I’m not letting you in the bathroom with me.”

“Okay, then you can enjoy cracking your head open on the tub when you fall.” He squeezed at her side gently, nudging her in the direction of the bathroom and she tried to shoot him a glare but her vision suddenly blurred and she paused a moment to shake out of it.

“Fine.”

Rita made him stay out of the bathroom until she was stripped down and hidden behind the shower curtain but did admit defeat and let him know she was sitting down after a couple of minutes. Even if it wasn’t the dizziness it was the general unwell feeling aching through her muscles, the shakiness of her hands as she tried to scrub the sickness away.

“You know maybe if you hadn’t skipped dinner last night you’d be able to make it through a shower.” Rafael called over the water.

“I didn’t skip dinner.”

“Rita, there were all of two bites taken out of that pasta and we both know it.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” She protested back, reaching up to turn off the taps, “and I was exhausted. I chose sleep over nourishment. Hand me a towel.” A warm, fluffy green one popped up between the shower curtain and the wall,

“Be careful when you stand up, and I’m leaving clothes on the basin for you.”

“Thanks.”

Rita waited until she heard the bathroom door click shut before she managed her way to her feet, cautiously stepping out of the tub to dry herself off. She couldn’t help but softly smile at the pile of clothes Rafael had left out for her, a pair of plaid pyjama pants of his that she tended to steal out of the laundry, a worn high school debate club shirt of her own and a Harvard hoodie they weren’t entirely sure who the correct owner was at this point. Pulling the hoodie tighter around her with a little shiver she padded out to the main part of the apartment, the television was on low, textbooks and note pads strewn across the coffee table next to a half full coffee cup. She made a beeline for the couch, tugging the blanket off the back of it before collapsing onto the cushions and wrapping it around herself. She snagged the remote, turning the volume up a bit before starting to channel surf to find something more entertaining to watch.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.”

“Good.” He chuckled, “it’s for you.”

“What?” She asked with a croak, sitting up and looking over the back of the couch to Raf in the kitchen.

“I figured you were coming down with something so I ran to the store this morning, picked up ingredients for soup.”

“Can’t that just come out of a can?”

“Sure. If you want bland, unseasoned crap.” He laughed, turning the heat down to a simmer, “didn’t your mom ever make you soup when you were sick as a kid?”

“Bold of you to assume my mother ever cooked anything for me. And if I was sick she’d throw some children’s Advil in the direction of my father and shuttle me off to the nannies for the week.”

“No wonder you hate being sick so much.” He frowned, crossing through the room, “it’s not about the actual illness, is it?”

“Being sick sucks.” Rita sighed, dropping back into the cushions, burrowing under the blanket as Raf perched on the arm of the couch. “You already feel like crap, you can’t do anything, your energy is zapped, you either have no appetite or you’re throwing up constantly. You’re not allowed to go to school and nobody wants anything to do with you so you’re holed up on your own feeling like you’re in isolation until you’re better.”

“You were the kid who sat up studying and doing homework while off sick, weren’t you?” He raised a brow in her direction and she looked up at him with a sheepish expression before scoffing.

“Yeah.” She tugged the blanket tighter under her chin, “can’t fall behind.”

“Well then be glad it’s the weekend.” He teased, a hand coming to ruffle at her hair and he clicked his tongue, “did you seriously wash your hair and not dry it?”

“I seem to remember getting lectured about not standing for too long.” She glared up at him and he rolled his eyes.

“If you sleep with it like this it’s going to be a tangled mess when you wake up and I already don’t wanna hear it. Gimmie a second.”

Rita let out a huff, her gaze falling back onto the television as he disappeared from the room. She heard the click of the kettle as he passed through the kitchen before he wandered down the hall for a couple of minutes, rustling around in one of the other rooms. By the time he came back the water was boiling and when he returned to the couch there was a steaming mug in his hand thrust into Rita’s line of sight.

“Sit up.” He instructed, “and take this.”

She grumbled but did as he asked, sitting with her back against the arm of the couch as Rafael situated himself on it once again. She noticed that the tea wasn’t one of their usual tea bags, a mix of scents wafting off the beverage and a cinnamon stick floating inside of it. Behind her, Rafael’s fingers shook out her damp hair, making sure he wasn’t going to come across any large knots before parting it down the center and starting to make two French braids. She let out a little happy hum, appreciative in the way that he wasn’t shying away from her when she was sick, that he hadn’t banished her to her bedroom until she was better, he didn’t seem to have any issues with potentially picking up whatever germs she was carrying. Truthfully, that was because he knew she had likely been contagious all week and they shared practically everything already. They frequently stole food off each other’s plates, finished the other person’s coffee and used the same utensils. Whenever Rita found the time to bake he knew she regularly licked batter off the mixing spoon to make sure it tasted good before continuing to make whatever she was making. Germs was just something added to the list of things they shared.

“There’s something in this I can’t place.” She murmured as Rafael began the second braid and he laughed softly.

“Likely the garlic.”

“Garlic?!” She tried to turn her head and only managed to yank the hair he was currently holding, wincing as she turned her head back forward, “why?”

“It’s one of Mami’s classic recipes.” He replied with a shrug, nodding toward the stove, “same with the soup. Anytime I was sick she’d make a huge batch of both to last all week. When I was younger there was usually homemade bread to go along with it and I got to either sleep on the couch all week or in her bed. Extra popsicles too. While the actual illness sucked there were definitely some upsides to getting to stay home sick.”

“Sounds fake.” Rita grumbled, taking another swig of the tea.

“Well we’ve figured out by now that we had very different childhoods.” He wrapped the elastic around the second brain, then leant forward, kissing the top of her head, “you’re all done. Hungry?”

“Tired.” She replied back, draining the last of her tea before placing it down on the coffee table as Rafael climbed off the side of the couch.

“Alright. Get some rest, I’ll make sure to be quiet.”

“Where are you going?” She whined, pouting at him as he headed back to the kitchen.

“Figured you wanted to sleep.”

“I kinda hijacked your hangout place.” She gestured to the coffee table covered in his things.

“I can set up in the kitchen, or my room.”

“You really don’t have to.”

Rafael watched the way she frowned, the little shiver that danced through her body before his lips split into a grin, “you want me to stay.” He sauntered back over to the couch, “don’t you? Sick Rita is needy Rita, isn’t she? You want more cuddles.”

“Well I don’t wanna be alone.” She deflected and he laughed, “besides, just a little nap for the drugs to kick in and then I want some of that soup.”

“Alright.” Smirking he nudged her shoulder so she could sit up again and dropped onto the couch, “make yourself at home.”

Rita collapsed into his lap, letting out a happy sigh when his hand automatically landed in her hair, fingertips gently rubbing at her scalp. It only took a couple of minutes before she was asleep again, snoring softly and Rafael tucked the blanket in a little tighter around her shoulders. She’d been sick a couple of times during their years at Harvard but this was the first time when they’d been living together and now he felt a little bad for not checking up on her when he was still in the dorms. She clearly craved the contact and honestly had no clue how to take care of herself, it was no wonder the flu in first year took her out for a full two weeks.

The hand he had in her hair softly moved to her back, rubbing slow circles through the blanket, making sure she was as comfortable as she could get while she slept. She needed the rest and now he really knew just how touch starved she was, certain that if he even got up to use the bathroom she would be whining in her sleep. Halfway through the afternoon he felt his eyes drooping, whatever she’d chosen on the television serving zero interest to him and he gingerly shifted her so he could slide between her and the back of the couch, wrapping her in his arms as he slipped under the blanket.

The timer on the stove woke them up just as the sun was starting to set, jolting them both out of their calm sleeps.

“Sorry.” He murmured, slowly untangling their limbs.

“S’okay.” She replied with a yawn, “probably wouldn’t sleep through the night otherwise.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed at her shoulder, “feeling better?”

“A bit.”

“Take some more meds.”

“Is it time for soup?” She asked, rubbing at her eyes as she sat up and he couldn’t help but smile at just how little she looked right now.

“Yeah.” He padded through the kitchen, flicking the burner off before digging through the pantry, “you want some of this sourdough with it?”

“Please.”

A moment later Rita let out a happy groan at the smells wafting through the room as Rafael took the lid off the pot and added a few last minute things. She picked up her water, swallowing down a couple more pills before she shifted on the couch, nestling into the corner so Rafael could sit beside her. She flicked through a couple of channels until she found one of their joint favourite movies about to start and hummed in satisfaction.

“Here.” Rafael returned to the couch with the food, a fresh mug of tea placed on the table for her, “careful it’s hot.”

“Smells amazing.”

“Surprised you’ve still got a sense of smell.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s more in my throat.”

“That I can tell,” he grinned, “you sound like Kermit.”

“Fuck you.” She muttered, opting to ignore him and focus on the soup instead, humming softly when the flavours hit her tongue. Beside her Rafael simply smiled, glad that she was actually eating and getting nutrients in while sick instead of living off saltine crackers.

Empty bowls of soup lay abandoned on the coffee table, Rita’s mug of tea refilled and Rafael had grabbed a beer from the fridge for himself. The movie was just over halfway through and Rita was neatly tucked under Raf’s arm, nestled into the crook of his neck while his hand softly rubbed up and down her arm. Her breathing was pretty regulated, only small coughs here and there now that Rafael had dug through the bathroom until he found some cough syrup from his last bought of illness for her. She was no longer alternating between shivering and being too hot, having to shove the blanket off her, a happy medium where she was slowly starting to feel like an actual human again.

“Rafa?” She asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He turned his face to leave a gentle kiss on the top of her hair, “that’s what best friends are for.”

A comfortable silence took over them as the movie began to wrap up before she quietly spoke again.

“Raf?” This time her voice was almost timid and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yes you can sleep in my bed again tonight.”

________________

@svulife-rl rl @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @godard-muse @thatesqcrush @daddy-heather-dunbar @alcabots @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @originalbrunettecharacter @swimmingstudentchaos891 @prentiss-theorem @witches-unruly-heart @plaidbooks

#law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit #rita calhoun #rafael barba #barhoun #rita calhoun x rafael barba #platonic!barhoun #bestie!barhoun #harvard au #roomate au

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sailorkamino · 2 years

Text

dating steven/marc/jake headcannons

relationships: steven grant x gn!reader, marc spector x gn!reader, jake lockley x gn!reader

warnings: very brief mentions of ptsd

translations: príncipe/princesa- prince/princess, cariño- dear, muñeca- doll, mi vida- my life

a/n: i make marvel playlists on spotify if you're interested <3 steven, marc, jake

steven grant

• his favorite pet names for you: love, darling, pet, babe

• so we all know steven is a big cinnamon roll

• but he won't hesitate to stand up for you

• "oi, don't talk to them like that. learn some bloody manners, yeah?"

• he has a very sassy/petty side

• he doesn't like violence but will throw a punch if he has to (although marc of jake usually fronts when he gets too mad)

• so affectionate and clingy in the best way

• won't let u feel insecure for 1 second because his compliments are so sincere

• instead of calling you 'hot' he calls you ~divine~ or ~breathtaking~

• but he doesn't just compliment your looks

• he constantly praises your intelligence and talents

• reading to you whenever he finds something interesting

• home dates that consist of puzzles, legos, drawing/coloring, and board games

• (you hit jake when he compares the flat to a daycare center)

• he may not be as confident as his alters but he's the most romantic

• will sing you to sleep if you ask nicely but he’s shy about it

• just imagine him crooning 50s/60s love songs to you, i can’t-

• probably has separation anxiety

• slow dancing in his flat

marc spector

• his favorite pet names for you: baby, sweetheart, angel, sugar

• prefers actions/gestures over words

• a bit of a commitment-phobe at first because he's afraid of getting hurt

• but once he realizes you're not walking out on them, he falls for you hard

• doesn't get jealous super easily cuz he trusts you

• but is very protective

• if someone is making you uncomfortable or is being creepy he will not hesitate, bitch

• won't let you walk or take the bus alone at night

• marc: i think i should teach you some self defense

• you: i know self defense

• marc: oh really? show me

• you: (unexpectedly kicks him in the dick)

• marc: (on the ground, struggling to breathe) that was good baby

• distances himself or acts angry when he's upset

• he's not great at communication/opening up but he's working on it

• even when's mad he doesn't raise his voice at you (he hates yelling cuz of his mother)

• storms off when you fight so he doesn't say something he'll regret

• always apologizes w/ gifts or a homemade dinner

• needs alone time every once in a while

• but makes sure to text you so you don't worry

• low key loves action/sci-fi movies as much as steven but won't admit it

jake lockley

• his favorite pet names for you: príncipe/princesa, cariño, muñeca, mi vida

• like marc, he has deep rooted trust issues

• that's why he prefers actions over words

• thinks everything you do is super attractive

• you: (doing taxes)

• jake: you're so fucking sexy

• overprotective part 2

• jake: okay let's try self defense again, but no real kicking, okay? this is just practice

• you: ok!

• jake: alright, so what if i'm attacking you and i use my hand to cover your mouth?

• you: (chomp)

• jake: WHAT THE FUCK? DID YOU JUST BITE ME?

• like steven he prefers stay at home dates just so he doesn't have to share you with anyone

• very charming but also has a temper w/ anyone that's not you

• if you had a nickel for every time you forced this man to apologize to a stranger

• random guy: (accidentally brushes against your ass on the bus)

• jake: (rapid fire spanish threats)

• spoiler alert- he gets jealous the easiest

#marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #jake lockley smut #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight headcanon #steven grant headcanon #marc spector headcanon #jake lockley headcanon #moon knight #moon boys

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t-h-i-n-g · 2 years

Note

Hii!! I was wondering if you could maybe do a JJ maybank x gf!reader where JJ introduces his girlfriend to his friends from work or something (not the pogues) and they act mean and teasing towards her since she is a bit shy and introvert. But JJ is sticking up for her.

Speak Up

a/n: my first jj request! LETTTTTTTSSSSSSSGGGGOO!!11 ty ty for your request. just to let you know it was a bit difficult to make the other pogues look mean lol. but i hope i did you justice and i hope you enjoy!!

word count: 1.1k

summary: it's time for you to meet JJ's friends. but your quiet nature seems to be the only thing they can talk about.

warnings: a little bullying/teasing, slight suggestive comment from kiara, if i missed any let me know!!

obx - masterlist m.masterlist

"I'm sweating."

"It is 85 degrees out."

"Oh my god my fingernails. I didn't even realize I practically took them off."

"I think there's a nail polish to make them taste like ass so you don't bite them."

"And my hands are literally shaking, J."

"Then just stop shaking them."

"Quite it," you whined, hitting his arm softly. "You know meeting new people makes me nervous."

"It's gonna be fine, Y/n. I told them you were coming. You know what to expect. They know what to expect. Everyone's excited to meet you," JJ attempted to comfort. You scoffed.

"Oh yeah, I'm so sure they're looking forward to meeting the 'pogue wannabee,'" you muttered, kicking a rock that was sitting helplessly on the sidewalk. JJ stopped in his place. His hand pulled you back to him when you continued walking. You grumbled but did as he asked, standing toe to toe with him. He tapped your chin with a finger gently.

"Hey, look at me." You bit your lip, lightly. Peering at him through your lashes. "If they have a problem with you, which I highly doubt, then I'll tell 'em to cut their shit out. It's not like I'm going to let them use you like a verbal punching bag or anything. You don't have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. Everything's gonna be fine by the end of this." You give him a weak smile.

"M'kay." He returned your smile. Giving you a quick kiss to your cheek and continuing on his way. Snagging your hand back in his hand in the process. Pulling along, while you tried to conceal your girly giggles.

"You're a dork," he mumbled. "The Chateau is just on the right."

–

The atmosphere was rather awkward. You sat on a couch, stiff as a board. The pogues were all exchanging glances with one another. The messages they shared you couldn’t decipher.

Introductions went fairly smooth. You shook hands as they told you their names and stated they’ve heard a lot about you. However soon after you were seated JJ left the room to get some drinks. So now here you were, picking at your nails and biting your lip anxiously as you tried to work up the courage to say something. You opened your mouth to speak but the one you know now as John B, beat you to it.

“Have you always lived in the Outer Banks?” He questioned. You nodded.

“Um, yeah. My parents moved here a year before they had me.” Kiara furrowed her brows.

“How come we haven’t seen you around before?” She asked. You bit harder on your lip.

“I don’t know. I don’t go out much but we do go to the same school.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, we had Chemistry and English together.”

“No way, you’re joking.” Pope slapped his hand on the table causing you to flinch.

“That’s what it was! You would always sit in the back corner. Every class I swear I never heard a peep out of you.” Both Kie’s and John B’s brows pulled together once more in thought. Their eyes however lit up in recognition.

“No, no but there was that one presentation in English that you totally bombed. Nobody could hear a word you said. My god, the second hand embarrassment was real,” Kiara stated, chuckling. You twiddle your thumbs, laughing along nervously.

“Yeah, I was never good at public speaking. I’m working on it though J-”

“How did you even meet JJ in the first place?” John B asked.

“I was out shopping at a market and he was picking up some groceries. I was at the check out and he approached me.”

“You probably didn’t even say a word,” Pope jokes.

“Based on that presentation I’d say you had to use a megaphone to have him actually hear you,” Kiara added.

“Well he was pretty persistent. I saw him a couple times after that.” John B huffed out a laugh.

“I’m shocked he even approached you in the first place.”

“Well like you guys he didn’t recognize me at first,” you mumbled.

“Sorry, what was that? I don’t think JJ’s helped you enough. Look at you, your words are all jumbled again.”

“Yeah, better speak up, Y/n. JJ likes his girls vocal.” Pope spat out his drink at Kiaras remark as John B. covered his mouth to hide his own amusement. You shifted uncomfortably before deciding to stand.

“Come on,Y/n. What did we just talk about? Gotta speak up,” John B teased, smiling into his drink. You let out a nervous chuckle wishing you could just shrink into the cushions of the couch.

“I’m gonna go find JJ if that's okay.”

“Too late I found you first,” JJ spoke through the screen door. Your shoulders visibly relaxed at the sight of him. Nudging the door open with his hip while his hands were full. He passed around the drinks before pulling you down next to him on the couch once more. “You good?” JJ whispered in your ear as he placed an arm around your shoulders. You nodded at him, smiling slightly uneasily while settling into his side.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Dude, what did he just say?” Kiara laughed.

“Kie, cut it out,” JJ snapped. She threw her hands up in surrender.

“It’s just a joke,” Pope stated, propping his feet up.

“Yeah one that obviously didn’t land, knock that shit off,” JJ scoffed.

“She’s a big girl. She can stand up for herself,” John B chuckled. The boy next to you rolled his eyes, squeezing your arm reassuringly.

“Yeah, like how you stood up to Mr. Gray's cat down on Bloomington last week? You sure showed that thing whose boss by jumping on top of that trash can.” It was Kiara’s turn to try and stop her drink from spouting out of her mouth.

“Awww, was whittle John scarwed of da pussy cat,” Pope taunted, wiggling a finger in the said man’s face.

“I thought we said that would only be kept between us,” John B. said, annoyed. JJ shrugged.

‘It would have been if you didn’t pick on my girl. I told you to cut the shit out. You should’ve.” John B. looked at you meekly, apologizing.

“No no I’m glad he didn't, it's nice to know Gray’s cat is his weakness,” Kie stated getting up to head inside. Walking past you she patted your arm gently. “ 'M sorry too, Y/n. Was just a little teasing. Had to scope you out you know?” She smiled at you before continuing her way.

“Yeah, can’t let just anyone date out precious JJ,” Pope said patting said man’s cheek. You chuckled quietly to yourself. Finally feeling the tension leave your body as the others started a conversation to ease the mood. You looked up at JJ. He caught your eye. Smirking and giving you a wink before kissing your temple and turning back to the boys. You smiled, leaning onto his shoulder.

----------------

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

#outerbanks x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #jj maybank x yn #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank oneshot

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redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh · 3 months

Text

Yu-Gi-Oh GX Characters ranked on how likely I would be to beat them in a physical fight

K some ground rules: Fisticuffs only and my personal feelings about the character do not matter.

let’s go

Blair Flanagan— listen most people would not kick a child but I would. I would be able to punt Blair into the fucking sun. what’s she gonna do? she’s tiny and she literally fights with love. kill em with kindness? wrong, that second grader is about to feel my wrath.

Zane Truesdale— I may be disabled but God hasn’t slapped my ass into a wheelchair yet. I’d knock him out of his chair and beat him over the head with it. i am allowed to do so because I am disabled. I will be taking no criticism at this time. on the other hand I think wheelchair jousting would be fucking hilarious (and I’d still beat Zane at it) but this is fisticuffs only. one good hit to the face and he’s down. maybe i get lucky and punch him hard enough in the chest that I straight up kill him.

Alexis Rhodes— I definitely could beat her in a fight. She probably bites but I bite harder. I’ve been wearing my retainer like a good kid and my teeth are straight and poised and ready to attack.

Dr. Crowler— We’ve seen Crowler in a skintight wetsuit multiple times and there is no muscle there. I will full nelson him into giving me an A. Also he has a major disadvantage that is Long Hair. yankin time.

Syrus Truesdale— I know I said I could beat up Blair because she’s tiny but Syrus could hold his own against me. He is a feral little fuck and contains a lot of repressed childhood anger that he would def let out in a physical fight. I’d still win, but barely.

Atticus Rhodes— canonically ripped but less ripped than everyone else on this list. one good kick to the nuts and it’d be over. he’s very sensitive. you wanna fight fair, atty? too bad it’s testicular torsion time

Chazz Princeton— not ripped but have you seen him beat the shit outta Ojama Yellow? He’d kick the stuffing out of me. also definitely tapping into his trauma. anyway he’d win because he’s a feral sewer rat that thrives off of yellow’s screams for mercy.

Jaden Yuki— this is where it got tough. Jaden is canonically a buff guy (pushed car up hill) but he’s also guilt ridden from literally killing his friends once. I still think he’d win because there is no way I am getting that slippery autistic lizard motherfucker in any kind of hold.

Adrian Gecko— okay now we’re getting into the real problems. everyone from here on out has canonical bulging ass muscles that I physically could not hold up against. sorry what was I saying? oh right adrian. he’d win. fuck you adrian. moving on.

Jesse Anderson— I’d have a maybe 10% chance of winning if I got close enough to purple nurple his ass. I’d try a nut kick but Jesse is way smarter than atticus and would show up wearing a cup. also buff as hell.

Jim Cook— I’d only have a chance because this is fisticuffs only and Shirley is not allowed in the fight. also Jim has a six-pack. he is 100% muscle and would whoop my ass with zero goddamn mercy.

Axel Brodie— can canonically hang upside down and still think clearly. I am not getting that man to pass out in any kind of chokehold. he would simple gaston-style flex and send me flying.

Tyranno Hassleberry— he got dino dna. I’d quit before we started.

#yugioh gx #blair flannigan #zane truesdale #alexis rhodes #vellian crowler #syrus truesdale #atticus rhodes #chazz princeton #jaden yuki #adrian gecko #jesse anderson #jim crocodile cook #axel brodie #tyranno hassleberry

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nasty-quillz · 7 months

Text

Aiza/Shin/Han: Enchanted Fleshlight

....I found this in my notebook y'all. I don't remember what I was doing or how it was suppose to end, but I do no it had to be during one of my dark content kicks.

Premise: Y/n and Shinso adopted by Aizawa. Aizawa using Quirked Fleshlight to fuck you in class while you do group work with Sero and Shinso. Pseudo incest and public sex/voyeurism.(Cant remember if I made AU a College or not, but everyone is 18+)

Aizawa Sensei is a bastard. Hundred percent an absolute bastard.

Because as he sits at his desk, droning on about the day's classwork, you feel the thick head of his dick nudging at your entrance.

He has the nerve to lean his face on one hand as if he’s tired, while the other one is no doubt teasing the enchanted fleshlight you got him, under his desk.

He paired you off for group projects and you remained in your seat, with shaking legs as Hitoshi and Hanta moved to your desk., with their chairs.

“Hey Y/n! You ready for this project,” Hanta asked as he sat in his chair backwards.

“I hope so. If we tank this, Sensei is gonna take it outta my ass in training,” Hitoshi smirks at you as he says it, knowing you’re aware of exactly how.

Just as you go to say you got them, Aizawa chose that moment to push into the gushy hold of the fleshlight, punching the air out of your lungs. Hanta and Hitoshi looked at you, but went back to sketching out ideas.

You tried to give an air of attentiveness, but you look over to where the yellow sleeping bag peaks out behind his desk and gives away nothing. You clenched your jaw at the pleasure of his minute thrusting, pussy spasming around him.

“Fuck.” The whimper is whispered as it drags its way from behind your teeth. Sensei always filled you so good and it made you adjust yourself in your seat..

You were pulled from your distraction by Hitoshi and Hanta.

“Okay so our Designated villain is… Bakugo.”

You groaned. “Come the fuck on.”

“Yep,” Hitoshi said, popping the “P”.

“”How the fuck am I meant to paralyze when he moves that fast?!”

Hanta pats your shoulder. “It’s ok, we can take him.”

You nodded, “Okay show me the plan.”

For the next several minutes you fall into your classwork and the thrumming feeling of Aizawa’s become a pleasant background feeling when you’d periodically clench around him. Your panties were soaked and you knew there’d be a wet spot if you stood up.

When Hanta was distracted talking to Hitoshi, you rocked your hips forward in your seat, forcing him deeper into your sloppy hole. Aizawa twitched minutely behind his desk and you bite your lip and exhale through your nose. You thought it went unnoticed, but Hanta turned to look at you.

You okay, Y/n?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Hitoshi’s phone went off. You watched as he looked at it and thin purple eyebrows raised to his hairline as he smirked over at you.

It didn’t slip past Hanta.

“Shinsou, Buddy what’s up?”

Hitoshi started chuckling and you could tell from the look in his eyes you were fucked.

He glances at Hanta, “You wanna have some fun Sero?”

Sero looked at his friend interest piqued. “Yeah?”

Hitoshi looked back at you and Hanta followed.

Without any warning Aizawa started beating your shit up.

His fist moved the pocket pussy roughly across his dick and the feeling made your eyes cross as your hands scramble to grip onto the desk

You were so wet that you could hear the gooey sound of your pussy in the loud din of talking from the rest of your friends.

That fact stood for your two friends sitting with you as well, unfortunately.

“Holy shit,” came the lanky boy’s disbelieving whisper.

“How’s Daddy feel, Babygirl,” Hitoshi asked, chuckling at your distressed pleasure.

You glared at him, but it failed when Aizawa hit the spot that made your mouth drop open in a silent moan. “Nii-san, he feels so fucking good,” you whispered, gasping into your hand to muffle it.

Hitoshi looked at Hanta. “Look at my pretty lil’ sister enjoying using her pussy. Bet it’s real slick from getting fucked in front of our whole class.”

You shuddered, hating how your foster brother knew how much of an exhibitionist you were.

“I mean look at Sero. He’s rock hard just watching you fall apart on Daddy’s dick. Bet he’d nut right here if he saw the way it’s hollowing your pussy out. Just slick dripping walls twitching around the fat dripping shape of his dick.”

Hanta groaned, feeling his own dick twitch in his pants. “Fuckin’ Hell, Shinsou.” He pressed the heel of his pal against his straining erection. “You’re fucking filthy.”

He just grinned that demented smile, as he slipped his hand under the desk. Strong calloused digits ran up bronzed thighs as you spread them. He slipped them into your soaked panties and slicked his fingers in your mess.

He never took his eyes off of Hanta. “So what do you say, Sero? Don’t you wanna know what she look like creaming on Daddy’s dick.?”

Just as Hitoshi asked the question, his phone screen lit up with a single word.

Daddy.

Hitoshi answers on his headphones and listened briefly before taking out one earbud and passing it to Hanta.

The taller young man took it. “H—Hello?”

“Hanta.” Aizawa’s sex voice is something that is long imagined amongst their class in the late hours of the night, but hearing it made him whimper.

“Yes Sir?”

“You want a taste of my Babygirl, I’ve seen how you look at her..” In the background the slick sound of Aizawa fucking the fake pussy could be heard. It sent a thrill down his spine.

“Watch Hitoshi and I get her off, and You can have all the fun you want.”

Hanta’s breath hitched as he thought of you on your knees in front of him, balls in your mouth and cum on your face.

“Yes Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Hanta’s dick jumped in his pants at the man’s words and his mind reeled with thoughts of getting the man to praise him again.

Shinsou's devious grin interrupted his train of thought.

“Let’s get this show started.”

#shouta aizawa x black y/n #shouta aizawa x black reader #shouta aizawa smut #Hanta Sero x black reader #Hanta Sero x black y/n #Hanta sero smut #hitoshi shinso x black reader #hitoshi shinso x black y/n #hitoshi shinso smut #mha smut #bnha smut #black reader #black reader smut #black y/n #black fanfic writer

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fruitcoops · 10 months

Note

Hello Eve! How are you? I’ve been thinking about the head canon of Finn having ADHD. And I was wondering if you could please write something about that? Maybe him struggling during college, talking to Logan about it and Lo listening to him, helping him however he can, or just something along those lines. Thank youu! 💛

Harvard FinnLo my beloathed (affectionate). Combined with a prompt for Logan struggling to remember English, because obviously they aren't suffering enough. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Can you sit still for one fucking second?” Logan snaps.

Finn fixes him with a withering look across the table. “I’d love to, but you’re breathing so goddamn loud that you’re about to blow me away.”

The bouncing of his knee grows faster, rattling Logan’s chair. He grinds his teeth. It’s worse when he knows it’s on purpose. “Real mature.”

“Like you’d know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?” Finn counters snottily.

Logan feels his face heat. “That’s not an answer.”

“Duh, it’s a question.”

He doesn’t like it when Finn does this—twists his words around, upside down and backwards until Logan can’t keep it straight in his head anymore. Finn plays with words like a toddler in a sandbox and it’s fun, it’s fine, it’s fascinating. English sounds so interesting in Finn’s mouth. But then he pulls this bullshit, and Logan has no patience for it. “Can you put a crumb of effort into an actual answer, please?” he grits out.

Finn’s gaze is back on his book. His brows knit in the middle and he flicks to a new page as if Logan isn’t worth the second it’ll take to look at him, and that grates at him more than the knee-bouncing and word-spinning put together.

“Hey,” he demands.

“What?” Finn mimics.

“You’re being a dick. Stop it.”

That gets him a disbelieving glance. “Okay, projection.”

It takes him a moment to make sense of that, but when he does, he clenches his fists on the plastic cover of his economics textbook hard enough to make it squeak. His brain is tired. He’s tired. Technical English makes him want to tear his hair out and scream, even though he can’t do that, because Finn is there and studying and Logan is polite.

“What’re you all worked up about, anyway?” Finn mutters, slumping in his chair.

“I’m not worked up.” It comes out petulant. Even Logan can tell.

“Yes, you are. You’re bitchier than usual.”

“God—I am not!” Finn’s knee is bouncing again. Briefly, Logan wonders if his textbook is heavy enough to do real damage, or if it’ll just leave Finn’s forehead with a nice reminder to shut the fuck up sometimes. He straightens his legs out and kicks Finn under the table.

“Ow!”

“Stop bouncing!”

“Stop being an asshole!”

“It’s impossible for you to be nice, isn’t it?”

Finn reddens from his neck to the tips of his ears. “I’m not the one biting people’s heads off every five minutes!”

“I’ve never bitten anyone,” Logan says hotly.

“That’s not what that means, Logan!”

Mortification hits him like a fist to the gut but it is far too late to stop now. Embarrassment is gasoline to Logan’s fire. “I don’t care about your stupid words! They don’t make you any less annoying!”

Logan snaps his mouth shut a split second too late. He wishes he could trap the words with it. For a moment, he thinks Finn is going to hit him, but the look of genuine upset that shifts over his face hurts worse than a punch ever could.

It’s gone as fast as it arrived. Finn closes his book, not bothering to mark his page, and sets it on the table. His hand trembles lightly. Logan wants to combust, just so he doesn’t have to watch Finn forcibly control his expression. He takes his bag off the chair and leaves without a word.

The front door closes with the gentlest sound he’s ever heard. He stares at his textbook, shiny paper covered in black ink he can only begin to make sense of after hours upon hours. He hadn’t been brave enough to ask Finn to help him work through it; it seemed like an imposition. An interruption. Finn had enough on his plate already, and Logan had no right to ask him to drop everything to help him do something a first-grader could handle.

“Dude.”

Logan jumps, slamming the book closed.

In the doorway to the kitchen, Percy watches him like he’s a cornered lynx. “You good?”

He seems to regret asking, if his immediate wince is any indication. Logan’s stomach turns. He doesn’t bother taking his bag when he leaves.

He finds Finn on the Commons, a speck of shiny copper against a sea of spring green. It’s chilly today. A few groups dot the field, but Finn is mostly alone in his sun patch. His hands are folded over his stomach and his head is pillowed on his bag. It can’t be comfortable. Logan knows how many books he packs in that thing.

He wishes he had brought his backpack, just for something to hold.

Finn’s taken his shoes and socks off, he notes as he trudges closer. One knee is bent, splayed to the side at a casual angle that shows the flex of his thigh beneath a layer of denim. The wind gusts over him and flutters the hem of his shirt.

His eyebrow twitches when Logan hits the meter mark, but he doesn’t so much as breathe differently.

Logan stops next to his shoulder. His shadow cuts over the top half of Finn’s face. “You’re going to get a sunburn.”

Finn doesn’t answer.

“You’re not annoying. I don’t think you are.”

Finn doesn’t answer.

His chest constricts. It’s so stupid that seeing Finn in the slightest bit of pain makes him want to throw himself over a grenade. Especially when he’s the cause of it half the time.

More than half.

He’s so stupid.

He flops on the grass by Finn’s shoulder and folds his legs up, resting his chin on top. It’s a nice day despite the wind. “I’m sorry, Fish.”

A few heartbeats pass. A sparrow flits between the trees. “I can’t help it.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Finn cracks an eye open at last, and it’s so pleading. It’s so horrible. Logan wishes he was one of the ants marching along through the tall grass, incapable of feeling the guilt that drowns him.

“I do.” The worst part is, he does.

“ ‘Cause I try.” Finn clears his throat and opens his eyes, though he keeps them trained on his hands. His usual fidgeting—which Logan has sort of always appreciated as a comfort—is absent. “I really try, Lo.”

Lo. That’s good. That’s progress. It’s not forgiveness, but it’s more than Logan deserves. He stretches out along Finn’s side, studiously ignoring the root poking his back and maintaining a respectful distance of two inches between them. “You’re nicer than anyone I know,” he says quietly. “Because you try. You share coffee and headphones and—and whatever the fuck else someone asks for. You’re so nice. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Finn turns that over in his head, watching the sky with half a squint. “Then why’d you say it?”

“I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah.” A smile wiggles loose at the side of his mouth. Finn tilts his head just enough to glance at him before straightening again. “Yeah, you are.”

“And I do care about your words, by the way.” I care about you. “So that was also a lie.”

Finn snorts under his breath. “Anything true?”

“…you were being kind of a dick.”

A pointy knee jabs into the meat of his thigh; Logan reaches out and whacks him blindly on the stomach. They’re both laughing by the time he brings his hand back to his own body and Logan has never been so glad to see Finn’s nose wrinkle the way it does. He can do damage, but he can fix it. With Finn, it’s never irreparable.

“I’ve been stuck on page 135 for an hour and a half,” Finn finally says with a shake of his head. “Just…stuck. I hate that feeling.”

“It took me five hours to get to page six,” Logan admits. The bitterness of shame is lighter in his mouth when Finn hums. Funny how that works.

“That boring?”

He swallows, lacing his fingers together over his navel. “Can’t fuckin’ read half of it.”

Finn pauses for a second, then turns to look at him. “You could’ve asked me.”

“You were busy.”

“You can always ask.”

Emotion builds in Logan’s belly and threatens his chest. He presses down to keep it there. “Like I said. You’re nice.”

“Lo, you’re my best friend.” There’s a rustle in the grass as Finn shuffles over, prodding him with gentle insistence. “Come on, you know that. I want to help.”

“I want to be able to read.”

“I want to be able to sit down and focus for more than twelve minutes at a time, but here we are, on the grass, not doing any of that.”

Logan smiles down at his hands. A butterfly soars over the toe of Finn’s sneaker. It’s a shit hand to be dealt, suffering through every class that requires complicated English. It’s demeaning. It’s frustrating. He’s getting better, understanding more, but it always feels like he’s not doing it fast enough. Things keep changing and years keep passing and the material just gets harder every time.

Except Finn. Finn doesn’t go anywhere at all.

He lays his head back in the grass; the muscles of his neck relax and he sees Finn do the same in his periphery. He waits until a bird-shaped wisp of cloud floats the width of the field before nudging Finn’s ankle with his shoe. “I’ll balance your budget if you read me the first chapter of my textbook.”

“…tempting.”

“And I’ll get you a pork sandwich.”

“Deal,” Finn says without hesitation.

#finn ohara #logan tremblay #finnlo #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #harvard finnlo #hurt/ comfort #best friends #argument

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devils-dares · 11 months

Text

Make Your Escape

summary: joel miller's finally been caught by FEDRA after years of toying with the tyrants. he's gotta get back home to tommy, but finds an ally in you

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of death, a past relationship, one punch thrown offscreen, blood, guns, mentions of violence

wordcount: 1593

a/n: my first full length joel miller fic?? enjoy!! i have a few ideas for a part two, so leave a comment if you want it.

-----

You heard whispers of the man in containment. He’d been causing FEDRA issues for ages, a “high priority pain in my ass,” so said by your commanding officer.

He’d been beating on officers, cutting the shift down until it got so bad that FEDRA requested soldiers from other outposts to cover. Boston was a big area, and any missing patrol could be detrimental to public safety.

You rolled your eyes at that part of the announcement.

The government didn’t care about “public safety”, they cared about public containment, having some sick control over the less fortunate in the forms of ration cards and limited supplies of medication.

God, you think, why couldn’t some fuckin’ plebe book him? You huff as you get your clipboard, walking down the hallway to the rat-infested room you soldiers called jail. There wasn’t any information on the paperwork, probably because the guy decided to kick and bite his way out of custody before officers- subdued him. You hate to think how riled up this guy is after FEDRA’s take on subduction and confinement, but you were the soldier with the least amount of seniority and the work was all but thrust upon you.

“Alright, this is how it’s gonna go, Mr…”

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” He’s hunched over on the shitty bed, his head hung low with his arms on his thighs.

“Well, I guess I’ll just leave you here, yeah? Send you to the gallows nameless?”

“Not like I have anyone.”

“Listen,” you huff, “you have no one and I’m brand fuckin’ new here, you wanna do me a favor and make this easy on me?” He chuckles darkly, his shoulders shaking up and down.

“Fuck you.”

“I could make this hurt. Could make it hurt real bad. Or I could let you off easy. Give you a snack and maybe let you wash your face so you could look at least a little presentable when your face is turning fuckin’ purple and you’re swaying in the air like a goddamn ragdoll. Up to you if you decide to work with me or not.” His face lifts a little at that.

“Why’d you decide to work at this shithole?”

“If I answer, will you give me your name?”

“Make it a good answer and I just might.”

“I didn't have a choice. My little QZ out west was hit hard by raiders, and I was trapped in a building surrounded by clickers. FEDRA decided to loot supplies and found me, and then gave me an ultimatum, either I stay and die or join.”

“And before?”

“Austin, Texas, was a bartender.”

“Knew you sounded familiar.” He finally lifts his head up, and you recognize his face, although now marred with scars, wrinkles, and tanned beyond your beliefs.

“Joel fuckin’ Miller. Should’ve known it was you causing all those problems. Sarah’s probably worried sick.”

“Sarah, haven’t heard her name since damn near Outbreak Day.” Immediately your stomach drops, and the burn of tears hits the back of your throat.

“Joel-”

“She was shot by the same assholes that work at FEDRA. They took her from me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yet you work here.”

“Wasn’t my first choice.”

“You gonna send me off now?”

“Where’s Tommy?” He sighs.

“You gonna keep askin’ me personal questions?”

“Yeah. Where is he?”

“I ain’t snitchin’ to a snitch.”

“I’m asking a friend.” His hand runs through his hair.

“You said you didn’t wanna be here.”

“I never said that, Joel.”

“Well you should’ve, fuckin’ insane for staying.”

“Are you just going to insult me?” He doesn’t answer, and you decide to wwalk out, not wanting to deal with his shit today. You slam the door a little harder than you intended, but it got the message across all the same.

Joel’s got his head hung low again. His hands are intertwied, white knuckle grip on each other to keep old memories and emotions from coming back up. There was no way you changed that much, right? That you’d willingly work with the damn enemy? He shook his head again. He has to remind himself that the ties to the world before don’t matter, that you don’t matter. If only he could convince you to leave. Tommy would be beyond ecstatic to have you in Jackson, and on some nostalgic level, he could rekindle whatever you two were working towards before Outbreak Day.

He shook his head. Times like these were when delusions wormed their way into your head, and he could not afford to be off his rocker when the time came to make his escape. It was unfair that you reminded him of simpler times. He could feel your skin in his hands, laying in the bed of his truck to watch the stars by the lake. He remembered the first time he kissed you, just a short and sweet thing, but Sarah interrogated him when he came home, a wild blush spreading across his cheeks when she mocked his moves.

He ran his hands through his hair, finally knowing what his move would be to get you out of here with him.

You come back a few hours later, or maybe a few days later. Joel doesn’t know because he hasn’t slept since he got captured, and there’s no windows in this box. He’s still sitting in the same position he was when you left him, so you drag a chair a few feet away from him and take a seat.

“How did you bribe FEDRA officers?”

“Ain’t it my constitutional right to plead the fifth?”

“There isn’t a constitution anymore, Joel. Just answer the question and maybe I don’t have to sentence you to death in public.”

“You don’t have to stay here.” He says, voice dropping in volume as he speaks.

“What do you mean?”

“Tommy, he’s… he’s got a town. Community, all to himself and some trusted folks. I got a place there.”

“Where?”

“You askin’ as a friend or a cop?” He looks you in the eyes, and it’s the same fucking look he gave you twenty-something years ago when he gave you his jacket just to walk you ten yards to your car after your shift at the bar.

“A friend, Joel, I’d never put Tommy in danger, you know that.”

-----

Your commander gave you a sick smile when he spotted blood on your knuckles as you came out of Joel’s cell.

“Gave him a good beating, did you?”

“‘Course.”

You’d gotten into his good graces by beating on an inmate, and now that you had, he’d turn a blind eye to some of your illicit activities, which included going to the “evidence” room and picking up all of Joel’s weapons, before taking them directly to him. He’s cradling his jaw when you walk in, a solid gash sitting on his face, blood gushing. You drop the bag on the floor and wince at the totality of the cut, tossing him a bandage to keep it from dripping everywhere.

“Guess you still have a mean right hook.” He says.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I got your stuff, so we can gear up and head out.” He looks up at you.

“This isn’t the day you were expecting, was it?” He asks, clicking a magazine into his pistol.

“Can’t say I was, Joel. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, sweetheart.”

You clicked on the handcuffs around his wrists, loose enough that he could shake them off, but believable. You held them in place, positioned behind him just so that the gun in his waistband behind his back could not be seen. You dragged him down the hallway, and he was acting his ass off, cursing and yelling and trying to twist away from your grip. Luckily, no one paid you any mind, even when you snagged truck keys off the wall and shoved Joel into the passenger seat.

“Where are we heading to?” You ask.

“Jackson, there’s a whole town out there, like I said.” You start the truck, and finally, FEDRA soldiers look hard at your position, cocking their guns and gathering at your position.

“You’d better hold on,” you say, “gonna be a bit of a bumpy ride gettin’ outta here.” You gun it, and almost as quickly as the tires spin and grip the ground, shoving you back into the seat as you drive off do the bullets start hitting the armor on the truck. You ram the gate at the end of the driveway, and quickly evade the other FEDRA trucks just outside, on a mission to stop you.

“Goin’ off road?” Joel suggests, a panicked lilt in his voice.

“You read my mind.” It’s unpleasant, the way the truck rocks and dips in the tall grass, and you feel yourself getting a little sick at the continuous rocking movement, but soon enough you’ve outrun them, and their trucks retreat to the camp.

“You’re insane.” Joel shakes his head, smiling at you.

“Been a while since I did something risky with you, Miller.” He shoots a glance your way, and sees what seems to be a reminiscent grin on your face.

“Thinkin’ about something specific?” He asks.

“Just what Sarah used to tell me, you know she caught us kissing one time?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “she wouldn’t shut up about it, teased me for fuckin’ weeks.”

“Me either.” You two fall quiet.

“How long to Jackson? I don’t actually know where we are.” He asks after a few minutes.

“Few hours, five or six.” He hums.

“Guess we got some time to kill.”

#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller x male!reader #joel miller x male reader #tlou #the last of us

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