#[ fuck I feel like ship trash ]

[tenrose]

I am now in my third week of period so if I commit any crime I can't be charged with anything 🤷

[hecksupremechips]

Recent disney and pixar movies have felt like movies in the way that monster high movies feel like movies. And I don’t want anyone to see this and go “but at least monster high movies are good!” cuz, sure whatever I don’t care, just listen. What I’m saying is these recent disney movies are so forgettable and I don’t think it’s just because of the rise of streaming services fucking up how the films are marketed and viewed, they also feel unbelievably pointless. They feel like movies made around a plot that would be forced into a ten minute episode if it were a cartoon made by smaller creators rn. The plots are so simple I feel like a toddler like I feel like the stakes have gotten increasingly lower and everything is underwhelming. Toy story 4’s big conflict was woody needs to get the plastic spoon back to the little girl. Inside out 2 was the emotions needing to get back to headquarters while riley is just at hockey camp and they learn their lessons in five minutes. Encanto is just mirabelle talking to her family and then singing songs at her. Strange world was a very basic father/son relationship story with no real stakes. The main thing luca wants in luca is a vespa and the main thing mei wants in turning red is concert tickets. Not even gonna glance at wish or lightyear cuz like who watched those what are those movies even for. I can’t remember any of these movies and even the ones I liked are still underwhelming and I walked out of them trying to justify that to myself like “oh well not every movie has to have a crazy plot, sometimes they can be simple”. But it’s like. All their movies now. And the characters are uh, they’re okay in some of them I guess I dunno. And this isn’t even to say that the more beloved older disney movies never had simple plots cuz like look at Cinderella, half of that movie is just animals getting into shenanigans to fill time. But idk, it felt like people actually wanted to make that movie and put love and attention into it. Now these things are just disney pumping out vague emotions that might get them an award while coating everything with this “look at how much money we have” polish

[queen-mabs-revenge]

ok but look I haven't looked at ouat stuff for years but captain swan being in that ao3 ship poll is giving me the ascending delight of reading tags w ppl declaring killian so gender and YES. YES YEEESSSSSS SO TRUE BESTIES

[polyamoryprincess]

I truly do understand the fear people have regarding people doing “fanfiction commissions” and making money off fanfics after the Anne Rice debacle, but we don’t have to act like it’s an inherent moral failing and like you’re a Fake Fan tainting fan spaces if you want to be paid for your work the same way fan artists do.

Anne Rice is a dick head for what she did and should be treated as such, treating the fear she’s wrought as some holy thing is fucking weird.

[trashcreatyre]

Based on something that happened a few months ago that ruined my whole week

[allthepandasintheworld]

1, 8, 10, 11, 22, delear's choice on fandom 👀

choosing violence :)

i'm gonna go dc themed for this one (when it applies) thanks for the ask archie!!

also, as a disclaimer, it's stuff i personally dislike for whatever reason. i've filtered tags and blocked the majority of people who say/talk about these things, but occasionally posts do escape through my filters bc a lot of the shit i'm annoyed by with DC are SUPER common among the fandom (which is partially why im annoyed)

the character everyone gets wrong

BATMAN. god. not even the actual writers can write a batman i can tolerate. there are like. maybe five(?) fanfic authors whose batman takes i actually enjoy? the others are so hit or miss. i barely even browse the tags anymore it's too much emotional effort to filter through the fics that are left even if i use stringent filters

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

that clark/bruce can't have a dad bod or be pudgy or be fat. like there are SO many artists who draw them in these ways, and also? Strength isn't defined by how dehydrated you are when you flex? you need fat to pad out the muscles, or else you're going to REALLY hurt after working out so much. yes, even clark. besides, the soft look is sweet. i like it a lot. i know i draw them a bit more on the 'hunk' side, but i will defend the dad bod/chubby/fat bruce and clark truthers to my death

10. worst part of fanon

the sheer number of people who try to heteronormify a literal gay pairing

no actually it's two things: clark being nothing more than an idiot (he's allowed his himbo moments but he's also very competent!!) and bruce being... abusive? verbally or physically?? there's like two sides of fanon bruce that i strongly hate: the bordering on abusive bruces and the bruces who are aggressively baby-ified. both are. not fun. a certain amount of pathetic is fine in a man, whatever, i love rene and he's a super pathetic man, but there's like there's a point when it stops being 'ah yeah just a sad little man' and starts being 'the author is REALLY piling shit onto him and putting ALL the responsibility on the other character to fix him'.

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

ok depends on fandom but for DC? like. four? i think. no wait five, although the fifth is like sometimes hit or miss bc there ARE a lot of major character deaths (and undeaths) in canon and like i don't really care as long as it's not permanent?

but i filter a/b/o (and related tags), mpreg, incest, and rape. all are self explanatory, but just filtering the first two ALONE absolutely guts the fic count and i stare at the fic counter the way you might watch a horror protagonist just barely get away from the killer without realizing it. am i saying the fandom has rank-ass taste? yes. actually. who knew so many people had a kink for bioessentialism?

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

in THIS big of a fandom i feel like there isn't a lot that people ignore? like there's something for everybody, and i mean everybody. although i do feel like a disproportionate number of people prefer batman and the batfam over superman and the superfam and im really sad about that bc people automatically write them off as 'good is boring', and the canon writers often do the same. which like. guys. cmon. it's not 'boring' to put your entire (superpowered) might into uprooting the deeply entrenched weeds of oppressive systems in the world and looking forward to a brighter future. that's why we fight?? isn't it? so we can have a better tomorrow??? superman isn't boring at all, happiness and hope isn't boring. hope and happiness find meaning in knowing that they are not the default, that we have to work hard and struggle for it!! anyways. i do follow some people who talk about this so it's not entirely ignored, but like in the wider ship spaces i do NOT see enough people talking about this specific element of superman. i think they all just think he's hot. which i agree with. but i ALSO think he's cool and interesting and more than just his appearance.

[trans-kevin-juice]

I’m gonna say it. Voira is a straight ship for straight people, if you know what I mean.

[thebibliosphere]

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.

[travalerray]

it's the WORST when you can't interact with a particular fandom at ALL because they are simply incapable of talking about the plot but WILL talk about your NOTP for hours on end so you just mope about it in silence

[anx1oustig3r]

me too buddy

[pinejayy]

╰➤ First Fight || One Piece - Part 2 !!

featuring: kid and law

summary: your first fight with your one piece boyfriends // here is part 1 !!

warnings: curse words, kid being kid, sorry but kid doesn’t get his happy ending oof, law saying sorry uwu

✦•··········• 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 •··········•✦

Kid

Walking back to the Victoria Punk you couldn’t help but feel hurt by the way Kid treated you and he talked to you. If he could get very friendly with random woman in front of you, just imagine if he’s behind a closed door. Not wanting to think about that, you just walk into the ship and lock yourself in your guys shared bedroom. “Stupid Kid….why is he so mean….he doesn’t love me….why should I even stay with him. He’s nothing but a dirty pirate…”

Back at the bar, Kid couldn’t help but walk back to the bar. As if nothing happened, he wasn’t gonna let your insecurities and tears ruin his night. Making his way back to the woman he went back to talking to her, forgetting about you. “Sorry about that, just had a little problem. But I’m here babe.” He laughs, and wraps a arm around her. And this girl couldn’t help but giggle.

Hours passes by and the crew was getting rowdy with the amount of beer they’ve had. While Kid was getting more and more drunk by the second. And he was getting closer to this unknown woman. To the point where the Crew was getting uncomfortable. But they didn’t dare speak to their captain and lecture him about your guys relationship. And suddenly Kid was too lost in his drunken state and shared a sloppy kiss with this woman.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Killer suddenly yelled out. And marched towards Kid and ripped him away. And pointed at the woman. “You get out.” And with that she scoffed and walks off. And as she walked off, Killer lead Kid out of the bar. Giving a slight shove once they were outside. “What the hell is your problem Kid?!”

“What the hell is YOUR PROBLEM!” Kid yelled back, while Killer just stood there and crossed his arms across his chest. “First Y/N! And now you!” He began to yell out, and suddenly groans and rubs his head. “God dammit…headache…too much beer.”

“Kid…what the hell were you thinking huh?” Killer snaps, and Kid was about to reply but was quickly shut down. “I’m speaking, shut up.” Which made Kid grumble.

“Why are you doing this? Especially towards Y/N…you know that they really love and care about you. And you’re throwing away something good because you’re thinking about with your other head.” He said and shook his head. “Y/N loves and cares about you, they even threw away their old normal life to run off with someone like you…with us Kid..”

Kid just stood there, he was pissed off because Killer was lecturing him, he was right but he didn’t want to hear it. “Whatever…I’m sure Y/N is still on the ship, I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to them.” He said and turns around with a scoff and began walking off. Which left Killer shaking his head. “Let’s hope so.”

Kids feet quickly made their way to his ship, he was thinking about Killer’s words. Fuck…did he fuck up. And once he made inside the ship it was quite without the crew. He looked around and saw nothing, and he was getting a bit worried. He looked in girls cabin…nope. In the kitchen…nope. In the bathrooms…nope…he even tried his workshop and nothing. Panic began to flow through his body, and he immediately made his way to your guys cabin. And once he opened the door he was expecting to meet you but he was met with nothing. “FUCK! Stop hiding from me! Please…”

He looks around and saw that your belongings were gone. And it’s as if you never lived here. Kid began to panic to the point where he began to trash his room. Breaking stuff and yelling. He punched a hole on the wall and growled. “I’m so fucking fucking stupid…” He mumbled and sighed. For once he felt alone…sitting on the bed. He saw a note on his pillow, grabbing it he began to scan the words.

“Dear Eustass. I took your advice. I didn’t let the door hit me on the way out. Have a nice life without me asshole and enjoy all the woman you want. Don’t come looking for me.”

It was a simple note but it bought his world crashing down. And for once he broke down crying, the one good thing he had in his life was now gone because he was stupid. “UGH! FUCK!! I FUCKED UP!!

He was alone…he wanted you there when he becomes King of the Pirates..

Law

The night time rolled around and Law was still in his office, he was still mentally beating himself off, never in your guys relationship he spoke to you like that before and he felt ashamed of himself. He knew you were looking out for him but he was into his work that he dismissed you in a harsh way. But soon after he had to own up to his mistakes and apologize about his behavior.

Walking out of his office he headed to his private cabin, assuming you were there and thank god you were, but you were laying on the bed crying softly . He walks in the room and closes the door behind him. And sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey…can we talk.”

You didn’t answer, you just kept laying there. And Law sighed “Look I know I said some harsh things…but I was too busy with my work that I didn’t consider your feelings.” He began to rant out and he rubs a hand over his face. You still weren’t answering him, which of course made him annoyed but he took a deep breath and spoke up again. “And I do appreciate you looking out for me and I well….um..”

As Law was speaking he caught your attention, was he trying to apologize? It really seemed out of character for him. Sitting up, you wipe your tears. Law couldn’t help but flinch slightly, your puffy red eyes, tear stain cheeks…was all his fault.

“Yes? What are you trying to say Captain?” You say, and he cringes. Not the Captain name calling…not now..

“Look….I said some things that were unnecessary towards you and I wanted to come here and well…um apologize..” He said but mumbled the last part. And let’s be honest Law isn’t one to apologize for his actions. But when it came to you he had to do it.

“Excuse me I didn’t hear that last part. Care to repeat yourself Captain.” You say, and stare directly in his eyes, and Law grumbled. “I said I was sorry…I’m sorry..”

“Again? I didn’t hear ya.”

“I said I was sorry! Okay! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have snapped at the one person who has my heart! Okay! I’m sorry being an asshole!” He suddenly barked out and sighed. “Look…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you annoying and tell you those awful words. I shouldn’t be treating you the way I did…I love you and I don’t want to lose you…and I’m so sorry…I’m sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything and just look at him, which was making him shift around. Before speaking up again. “Look I really appreciate the apology. But what you said was really hurtful….but seeing that you apologized does make me feel a bit better.”

Law sighed heavily “So are we good? Water under the bridge?”

“Not exactly…you have to make it up. And don’t tell me how you can do it. That’s for you to figure out Captain.” You say, teasing him slightly. Law eyes you but he nodded. “Now come on. Let’s get you some food and this time I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Law couldn’t help but smile slightly, you grabbed his hand and he follows you. “I don’t say this often but I Really do love you…so much.”

“I love you too Law.”

Tagging: @st4rpiece ,, @takamimami ,, @zalera8310 ,, @oatmealmika ,, @parkquimin ,, @thesaltycrisp ,, @axcel-lucci ,, @ella751 , @jellytune ,, @samatheartdare1 ,, @starlightanyaaa ,, @supernovajirachi ,, @emmaiscool22 ,,

[ceruleanchillin]

But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)

Note(s) -

It's long, so be warned.

The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.

Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory. 

I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.

And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.

Simon:

Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.

You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.

You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.

Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.

Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.

You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.

He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’

As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.

‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?

You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer. 

He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.

He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.

He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.

You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.

You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.

“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”

He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.

“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.

Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.

“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.

“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.

The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.

You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him. 

You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”

He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”

You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”

You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing. 

Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”

“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”

He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.

For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.

“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”

The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.

That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.

You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.

After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by. 

Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation. 

Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.

You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).

It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.

He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator. 

Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.

On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.

The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.

Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.

Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.

You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.

If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.

You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.

It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.

You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.

Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.

The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.

Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”

You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”

“You wanna ride there on the roof?”

The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.

Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two. 

Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.

To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.

He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often. 

Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.

When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together. 

One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours. 

It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.

Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on. 

You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically. 

On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”

Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”

He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”

“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.” 

Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”

You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”

He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.

You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.

The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him. 

Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.

There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else. 

When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.

Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.

He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.

The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.

All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.

You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.

You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.

You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.

Then came the topic of your boyfriend.

“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price

“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap

“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz

 It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’ 

During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.

Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.

“Have fun with the boys, bird?”

“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.

Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.

He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you. 

“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”

You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.

Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.

You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”

“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”

Kyle:

He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.

Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.

The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.

“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price

“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)

Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.” 

Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.

You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.

You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.

His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.

He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:

“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”

“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”

He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”

“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.

“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”

He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.

“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time. 

Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.

“You’ll get it next time, love.”

He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.

“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”

“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.

Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was. 

He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”

Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.

“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.

“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”

Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.

This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of. 

When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.

He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.

 He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.

When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.

It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.

He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.

“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.

“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”

Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.

You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.

He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.

Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.

You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.

“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”

You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”

Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”

Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”

“Blud, that’s not what you want.”

“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead. 

“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.

Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.

He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate. 

“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”

Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’

“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.

He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.

“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.

“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.

Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.

He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.

“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide. 

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.

“Yes ma'am.” 

Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.

Johnny:

You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.

You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.

Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you. 

You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.

The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it. 

He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing. 

He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back. 

When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.

It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.

Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.

He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.

“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.

“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”

You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”

“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”

Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.

Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.

“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.

He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.

You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”

“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”

You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.

“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!” 

Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”

Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space. 

“We’ll see.”

Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.

It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend. 

You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.

Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.

“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours. 

You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.

He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”

You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.

John Price:

Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.

The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.

That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.

You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.

He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”

“Yes.” 

“Well…thank you for your service.” 

Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.

Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.

Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”

“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.” 

“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.

John wanted to see him try just one.

“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”

You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.

Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him. 

“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.

Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to. 

However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.

It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.

One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.

“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.

“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.

He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.

You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding. 

He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.

“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”

There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.

With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that. 

Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.

There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile. 

Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place. 

“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”

And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.

He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.

You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.

Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.

Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.

He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.

Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.

The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.

You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.

Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.

Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.

The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.

At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.

Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.

It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.

 He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.

“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.

It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth. 

Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?

Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”

Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.

“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”

John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward. 

“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”

“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.

“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”

“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.

He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”

“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.

“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).” 

You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.

He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.

It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.

“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”

In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-

“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”

“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”

“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”

Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”

There it was. John swallowed, hard. 

“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”

John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Just one time.”

It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.

He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”

What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.

He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.

John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.

He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?

How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?

The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.

When he stepped into the hall, he paused.

You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.

“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”

“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.

You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”

You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.

“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.

“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.

“I would hope not.” he also took another step

You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.

“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.

You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”

[blluespirit]

okay first three episodes thoughts

good

bending is cool as fuck

sozin’s actor does an amazing job at full crazy but calculated

scenery is STUNNING

monk gyatso made me cry. idk why i just saw him and wanted him to give me a hug so bad

APPA ACTUALLY LOOKS GOOD AND NOT LIKE A LITERAL MONSTER

i wasn’t sure how id feel about them showing the air nomad massacre but i think the importsnt thing is that they showed it was a massacre - and that although they can defend themselves, they don’t have the ability to fight back like an organised army would bc they’re pacifists! they attacked a peaceful group

the abandoned fire nation ship in the southern water tribe looks so fucking cool

ARTIST ZUKO???!!! LETS GOOO

Dallas does an amazing job at getting across Zuko’s intense desperation

I actually ended up loving all the Sokka and Suki interactions sm it was so cute and wholesome

Katara is perfect i will kill and die for her

Azula’s opening scene being her manipulating those people trying kill ozai ultimately leading them to getting burned alive by him and smiling - literally so fucking good. she is the best villain in history of forever

really good move having the mechanist (Sai!) and Teo be in Omashu imo. having them destroy the northern Air Temple so carelessly always pissed me off

THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS ARE LITERALLY PERFECT I AM SCREAMINGGGG

I was wondering how they were going to introduce the Mechanist and Jet in a limited amount of episodes but I like how they combined the two stories

Also Sokka absolutely nerding out in the Mechanist’s home is so important to me

Zuko getting has ass beat by that lady for fighting Aang is literally so funny and reminiscent of the goofy aang vs zuko fights we see in season 1 (to be clear: i adore zuko. this is NOT hate on him)

Zuko losing shit about his notebook and trashing his room and then outing himself as a fire bender in Omashu is so perfect. god i love him so much. it’s very season 1 zuko. it’s giving I DONT NEED ANY CALMING TEA!!!

things i was not a fan of: (some of these are a little pedantic i’ll admit)

Exposition is a little is a little janky but i’ll forgive it i guess bc at least it isn’t egregious as The Movie That Shall Not Be Named

Aang leaving just to get fresh air/clear his head and intending to come back is a silly change to me. all i keep thinking about is the storm where we got those epic Zuko and Aang parallels which now doesn’t really work and also takes away a lot of Aang’s depth. A good change adds to the story, but personally this seems to take it away

WHY would they not make Katara the one to bring him back from the avatar state? just seems like a strange choice to me? not saying this from a shipping point at all but that moment is a big step to their bond/friendship especially since they have only just met

Still don’t understand why they made the head of the village Suki’s mum. like i don’t think it’s a terrible choice but they still could have let them have a mother/daughter bond but still let Suki be the leader without any implications of nepotism. it mostly seeems silly

tl;dr - really enjoying it so far!

[joonipertree]

Michael

Tags: Fluff, crack, absolutely stupid. Enjoy.

"michael"

a blank stare.

"michael manjiro." you said and promptly burst out laughing, leaning against your boyfriend who simply turned back to Draken and continued talking, face on his palm and body not budging at your weight.

toman chose not to mention your maniacal snorts and the uncharacteristic way their leader didn't pay attention to his partner.  The one person he looked at every time he talked to them, the person he would give his food to, the person that he has any inclination in taking care of. 

If there was a fight going on, they weren't getting involved. If a breakup was to happen, they would need a way to steer a sunken ship that would have their captain dangling from the side. Mikey and you fought but it was never public, nor did it last more than it takes you time to bat your eyes and cling to him. 

"Can I please for the love of god ask what's so funny? Mikey looks two seconds away from murdering kenny." Emma was the only one who had the guts to ask.

You got off mikey's back and stared at his side profile that was indeed glaring daggers at the vice captain. ooooh, you didn't realise there was trouble in paradise.

"Oh my god, Kenchin did something? In this economy? To you? How exciting."

"I didn't do anything, he's not mad….he's just taking his frustrations out on me because he's fucking soft for you.”

“You sound whipped, bro.” You said with a snort. “Couldn’t be me.”

A hand comes to squish your cheeks together. Your boyfriend finally looks you dead in the eyes, expression blank but edges soft. Your pout was even more puckered up and you made kissy sounds to ask for love.

The boy didn't budge.

How fucking dare he.

"What's my name?" Mikey was not going to let this go.

“Michael."

"It is not."

"That's what Mikey is short for." 

"what the fuck is this conversation?" emma murmured.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you call me anything but that white boy trash name." 

Your lips quirked up, "Michael Manjiro." and you were back to giggling uncontrollably.

Toman had never seen Mikey give you a stare that unamused, you were his baby so of course he could never feel anything but complete and utter adoration for you.

 He was still adoring, considering his rough calloused hands cradled your face but the vein popping out did not hide his irritation. 

“No.”

“I said your birth name, I have done nothing wrong.”

“You barely call me Manjiro, it’s always when you’re serious. You are most definitely not serious right now.”

“Michael Manjiro is a meticulously crafted name that was forged from what’s yours to sound like the name of the dude from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. How is that not serious?”

“It has been three days, please for the love of god, call me anything else.” The gang never thought they’d hear their leader sound that desperate.

 They’ve seen him cling to you and literally stop a fight just so he could go and hang out with you. They have seen many sides of Michael since you two started dating. But they have never heard their commander beg. They didn’t even realise he was capable of that and that you held all the power in Tokyo simply for being you. 

The fear they had for you had grown, wondering if this was a torture device that  could be used against them when an enemy attacks. Were you the enemy? Were you the devil toying with a poor man’s heart? Should they be worshiping you now??

“Mmmm, okay bro.”

And with that, they saw the fall of the most feared gang leader in Tokyo. The Invincible Mikey had been left for dead. 

You squish his face.

"my lil baby, why you so angy huh? is it cuz I called you a thing that lives in the sewers?" 

mikey felt his body melt at the pet name, leaning against your palms and deciding to ignore the second statement.

something caught his eye though.

both his hands cupped your face and you shut your eyes to enjoy how big and warm they were. he was always engulfing in his love, never scared to radiate his feelings onto you. 

mikey told you once that he had a chance to live a new life and he wanted to feel unapologetically. you loved that his feelings for you were felt with no hesitation. 

"is this some weird mating ritual?" hanma asked with his usual disgusted tone.

your hands squished your boyfriend's cheek harder in defiance. 

mikey swiped his thumb under your eyes, the pressure soothing your tight skin and making your cheeks relax completely.

"when was the last time you slept, love?" 

oh fuck.

"last night." You said in a meek voice.

mikey hummed and his thumb caressed the apple of your cheeks gently and you hoped if you stayed still long enough that he'd forget about you.

"how long?"

ofc he'd never forget u. fuck him and his undying love for you.

"the appropriate amount of time." 

he said your full name with a warning tone and your bottom lip wobbled because my god, mikey using anyone's proper name? unheard of.

"there you are, I was looking for you." a voice chimed in just as you were praying to the eldritch gods. chifuyu had earned himself the title of best friend right then and there. a blessing from the universe, your saviour. 

"what volume are you on now? are you done with the manga?

you hoped michael killed him.

your boyfriend stared at you, daring you to answer the question. you could just lie but in any case, you had been found out. mikey knew how you functioned. if a manga was good enough, you would sacrifice sleep and all worldly possessions to finish it.

"I did finish it." you mumbled, begging fuyu to read the room.

"in three days? god, it took me a week. so tell me---" 

mikey threw a shoe at chifuyu, it landed square in the face. 

[unholyhelbig]

new oversight will be everything! i can’t wait!

Title: Work Life Balance [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader gets hurt during a job, she starts to worry about how her girlfriend, the infamous mafia boss that controls the city, will react

[a/n: while this isn't a new chapter of Oversight (I am working on that), it is set in the same universe as the Oversight. It's based off of a Private Practice episode, and something a little lighter & silly. Enjoy!]

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, spit, threats, blood, hurt/comfort, No spell checks

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The metal bat had slammed against the side of your face with enough force to blind you momentarily in the right eye. It knocked the sense out of you too and your bearings were scrambled until that darkness started to ebb away into a blurry image of the alleyway.

There was a pungent scent in the air, rotted food in dark green trash bags that had been torn by tiny teeth, or elongated claws. Crumpled napkins and discarded soda cups littered the damp ground.

Before the man could swing the bat for a second time, you caught it half an inch from your face and shoved it away. He was disarmed and you were able to shove his back up against the wall, holding him there despite his squirming. His lip was split, the blood drying quickly from the bright red to a deep black.

“Come on, man.” You twisted your hand into the fabric of his shirt, bunching your fingers around his collar. “We fronted the product, so you have to front the cash.”

“Fuck off,”

He spit on you, a gummy mix of tobacco and sugar. There were a lot of things you could handle; the ringing in your ear, and the pain in your knuckles from the first four blows you threw. But spit was where you drew the line. It had bugged you since you were in fifth grade and Amy Sheldon dangled a long string of it inches from your nose before slurping it back up through the slit in her buck teeth.

“Alright,” you breathed out, making sure you kicked the fallen bat out of his reach. “You agree to push product on that little street racer of yours in exchange for twenty five percent of the cut. You get sloppy and sample the product and don’t have the cash to give to my boss?”

You lifted him from the brick and shoved him back down onto it with enough force to push the putrid breath from his lungs. “That doesn’t feel very fair, now, does it?”

He smiled at you with a laugh that rivaled a cackle. His teeth were orange with diluted blood. There was no getting through to him. Your free hand dipped into the side of your jacket. Over the last two years, you’d grown well accustomed to the feeling of a gun in your hand.

You pushed the tip of the gun under his chin into the soft spot of his skin. He stopped laughing, the sound getting stuck in his throat with a choking sound.

“Do you know what they call me?” You gritted.

“A raging bitch?”

You made a buzzing noise in the back of your throat, much like the signaling of a wrong answer on a game show. There was a soft click as you pulled the trigger of the gun. The man in your grasp tensed and hissed.

“Wrong. You know, at first, I just forgot to load my gun. Got me into some pretty hot water, scalding actually. But eventually it became a bit of a calling card. Roulette. I can pull the trigger as many times as I want, but only one will hit it’s mark.”

He swallowed hard, you felt it in the side of your hand. He was sweating and you were growing tired of the empty threats. Yelena wouldn’t approve of something like this, and you were sure Natasha wouldn’t have had a second thought about putting a mark between his eyebrows.

“Most men aren’t lucky more than twice,” You pulled the trigger again, met with another soft click. Of course, there were no bullets in the chamber; they rattled in your front pocket like your keys. “Three times at most.”

His voice cracked. “Please,”

There was a sharp scent in the air that rivaled that of trash. You were losing blood fast. It had streaked down the side of your face from a gash on your temple and crusted the collar of your shirt.

“You have a week to make up the difference. A week and I’ll be back with a gun that has more than one bullet in the chamber. Am I clear?”

“Yes, but-“

“Am I clear?”

He nodded aggressively and you sheathed your weapon, releasing him. His legs gave out and he sunk to the damp pavement. You picked up the weighted metal back, entirely content to take it with you. It would make your next encounter a hell of a lot easier.

It was impossible to sneak into the house without giving yourself away. Even if you were to park down the block, unlace your shoes and pad into the foyer barefoot, and leave the front door open a crack, you were at risk of creating a scene.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep the injured side of your face away from Natasha for as long as possible. She would know that something was up, and despite her throwing you into this life in the first place, her heart broke when you were on the deep side of any injury.

You set the metal bat down with a bucket of black umbrellas and a bench that was mostly unused. There was a dull metal thump that aggravated the headache that was coming on. You attempted to sneak up the stairs, but the second your fingertips hit the mahogany handrail you were stopped by an irritated voice with a Russian lilt to it.

Yelena was sprawled out on the sofa, a book was face down on her chest, lifting and falling with each breath. She’d given up on it in favor of the warmth that Kate provided her. Kate’s head was on Yelena’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Yelena looked perfectly comfortable in between Kate’s legs, both of them were about ready to doze off and if you had waited an extra five minutes, maybe you would have gotten away with sneaking in.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Kate asked.

You leaned against the entryway of the sitting room. “Ricky got a good hit in with a metal bat.”

“Oo, Natasha is going to be mad at you.” Yelena chuckled, taunting you like a child. You would have thrown a pillow at her if Kate wasn’t in the line of fire.

She was going to be mad at you for not using the buddy system that was proposed and certainly for not dodging the hit that was coming your way. Natasha hated when you got hurt and that sad look in her eyes was worse than whatever pain could be inflicted on you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks pretty bad.” Kate said.

You shot them both the middle finger before turning away and padding up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with Natasha. Most days, she was holed up in her office and you didn’t bother her until the ache for her touch, for her presence, bothered you both enough to cave.

That was most days.

Some days, Natasha could be found in your room in sweatpants with a laptop propped up on her crossed legs. She was dwarfed in the silk bedspread, her hair in a messy bun and a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.

This was quite possibly your favorite look on Natasha, this quiet version of her. She’d let you hold her in this state instead of the other way around. You hated to break the mood, hated that she glanced up from her laptop not once, but twice.

Wordlessly, Natasha set her work aside and walked over to you. She cupped your face, her fingers cold against your cheeks. Her voice was soft and when she was angry enough, there was the slightest bit of a Russian inflection to her words. “What happened?”

“I… didn’t use the buddy system.”

“Mm, you didn’t use the buddy system.”

Her thumb moved against the black and blue wound against your eye. She pressed every so slightly, testing its durability. You winced, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth. It wasn’t bad, really, her touch soothed you just as quickly as it had bitten you with pain.

Natasha was good at taking care of you and she pulled you into the large master bathroom that the two of you shared. There was an abundance of white and beige. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the house and offered a form of comfort as such.

There were nights where the two of you would simply brush your teeth shoulder to shoulder, and there were nights where she had her arms wrapped around you amongst the deep scent of lavender. Bubble hit her touch as her fingers roamed over the most intimate parts of you.

Now, she guided you to the edge of the sink and lifted you up in a fluid motion. She stood between your legs, making you feel even more like a child when Yelena had scolded you downstairs. Still, there was a degree of affection in her movements. Natasha frowned as she pulled a med kit from the bottom of the sink.

She tutted “Zaychik, this looks bad.”

“Image wise or the actual wound because-“You let out a small noise when she placed the frigid and stinging antiseptic against your face. It sent electric down your spine. “I didn’t know he had a bat.”

“A bat?”

“Right out of left field.”

Natasha’s frown deepened. This was supposed to be an easy job, and by all means, it was. You had accomplished your assignment of scaring up. You were sure he had released his bladder as he slid down the wall into a fetal position. Getting the money from a frightened man was going to be no problem.

Tonight was intended to be calm. You’d come home and shower and eat pizza and spend the entire night curled up in Natasha’s arms while she typed away on the computer. You’d listen to her breathing, her heartbeat.

Instead, she was roughly patching you up, buzzing with anger under her stare. “Why didn’t you take Clint?”

“Nat, I have a fantastic idea.”

“If it involves gutting that man alive and hanging him from a flagpole, then I am all in, darling.” Her words were light, distracted, as she wiped away a good portion of dried blood.

“What if we left things at the office, metaphorically speaking. What if we didn’t bring stuff like this home? Shut it all off.”  

She pulled back far enough to stifle her floral scent. There was an adorable crease between her eyes. “My mind doesn’t work like that, Malysh. This home is my office and vice versa. Someone hurt you and that is my business. That is my work.”

“I know,” you said, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She glowered under her thick-framed glasses. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off her face. “I know, but sometimes I just want to be with you.”

“Huh,”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

This wasn’t exactly a constructive conversation. You figured as much when she ripped a bandage out of its waxy packaging and slapped it onto the gash against your temple. You let out a disgruntled noise and she grasped your waist and maneuvered you back to the floor. Your legs had fallen asleep and you were a little unsteady.

Natasha flicked on the sink and started scrubbing her hands of your blood. “No sex,”

“What?” You blinked at her, scratching fruitlessly at the adhesive on the bandage. It was incredibly itchy.

Natasha dried her hands on the nearby towel, “You heard me, no sex.”

“You… You’re withholding sexual pleasure because of something that happened at work?”

“Not something that happened at work, your refusal to talk about it.”

“Natasha,” You nearly whined.

“No sex!” She huffed, pointing towards the exit of the room “Go sleep on the couch.”

You dropped your shoulders in defeat. You had been banned to the couch? Your girlfriend didn’t’ withhold most things and the two of you had a very healthy and active life. There wasn’t true anger behind her words, instead she was testing you. Watching you until you give in.

“Fine,” You huffed, crossing your arms “The couch sounds lovely.”

“Good,”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

You grabbed the fuzzy blanket at the base of the bed and started to stalk towards the door. You could feel Natasha staring at you, waiting for you to turn around and apologize but it wouldn’t happen. Not this time. You were setting boundaries and if that included…no sex… then that was fine. It was fine.

“Zaychik?”

You turned back to Natasha, one eyebrow lifted, “Yes?”

“Leave the blanket.”

She gave you a sugary sweet smile before settling back into her previous position, pulling her computer into her lap. Your jaw was agape, but you tossed the blanket at her nonetheless and stormed out of the room.

The nerve, the absolute nerve!

Natasha wasn’t particularly hard to have a conversation with, but work was nearly untouchable with her. You knew that. She knew that. You did as you were told and protected her and her assets at all costs.

When you got back downstairs you fixed yourself a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before sulking back into the living room and flopping down onto the recliner in the corner. Yelena had since fallen asleep, and Kate was reading the book while her eyes grew heavy.

“You got kicked out, huh?”

“Kicked out, banned from sex.” You waved the sandwich around in the air “doghouse.”

Kate scoffed “the Romanoff sisters aren’t always the most forthcoming, are they?”

She was looking lovingly at Yelena, stroking her hair as the smaller woman curled deeper into her, fingers clenching at Kate’s flannel and then releasing as she settled back into a comfortable sleep.

“They make it hard to love them, but the moments where the mask slips and they’re vulnerable. Moments like these make everything worth it. And despite everything, you know they care. They’ll always care.”

“Sometimes too much,” you took a large bite of your sandwich.

“No such thing.”

Yelena stirred in her arms, nose pressed against Kate’s pulse point. She clenched her eyes tighter, her next words mumbled “Kate Bishop, if you don’t stop talking you will be sleeping on the couch with y/n.”

“Doghouse,” You said with a long sigh.

“Mm,” Kate hummed, letting out a quiet whisper “Doghouse,”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

[sordidmusings]

Loose Lips (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: Fulfillment of this request! Thank you for making a request dear anon 💕 I really hope that it's what you wanted because it kind of grew into a whole thing 😬 also this is going to be this week's Thirsty Thursday!

@fanaticsnail brilliantly suggested this song for the fic!

Word Count: ~5.7k (~3.1k of smut 💀)

Warnings: Fem!afab!reader, NSWF very naughty indeed, praise, degredation, p in v, chop chop tomfoolery, overstimulation, creampie, dirty talk, dom!Buggy, jealous and heavily possessive Buggy, manhandling/forceful treatment, Gossip time with The Girls (probably ooc but let me have this), trashing your partner (he deserves it), allusions to gaslighting and emotional abuse, starts with humor then just needy but then devolves into lots of smut I promise 💀, some fluff at the end cuz I had to

~Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of endless perversion~

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy had the most shit-eating grin, and it only grew wider with each word you said. He was sunk deep into his chair, feet thrown on the table in front of him, nursing his fifth beer. Taking another gulp, he eyed you over the rim of his tankard. You were only starting your third drink, but to his delight that was enough of a buzz for you to loosen up. Normally, you were quite the skittish little thing around him, and while it was cute he wanted to see and know more of you. He’s always been quite infatuated with you and wished that he had more time with you to sate his want for your presence (and to fuel his fantasies). Tonight, that wish was granted when you had seated yourself next to him instead of your normal drinking buddies on the crew. It may have been Mohji’s usual seat, but whatever you claimed in his presence was immediately yours to him. Mohji was also easy to convince with a warning glare and sharp nod to the chair beside Cabaji.

Speaking of your usual drinking buddies, one in particular had taken to giving Buggy quite the sour look. It only fed Buggy’s smugness more. He wasn’t exactly a fan of your boyfriend in the first place. His dislike was quickly turning into disdain as well with the picture you had been painting for him. It was filled with unappreciated gestures, expected caretaking with no reciprocation, and an absolute bulldozing of your emotions. Clearly, this man boy didn’t deserve you. Possibly not even a spot on the ship with how poorly he’d been treating Buggy’s favorite. That’s probably why said boy was looking so pissy and threatened over there in his corner with your friends. Buggy raised his drink in a sarcastic cheers to him while you were distracted with a joke Cabaji had made at your partner’s expense. When your chuckles tapered off, your face started to pinch with apprehension.

“I feel kind of bad. I mean, you’re his crew and captain and I’m just here bitching to you,” you lamented. Your eyes widened with a sudden thought and you groaned. “Oh no, I must sound like a bratty teen gossiping about their partner.”

“Sounds like you’ve already tried talking it out with him,” Cabaji said. At your shy nod, he continues, “Then fuck it - you gotta get it out.”

“I know, but it’s all so stupid and trivial.” You were hunching back into yourself, staring down at your fingers while they played with your glass in your lap. There’s a flick on your forehead, and your head darts up to see Buggy’s hand floating back to him.

“S’not stupid if you’re upset,” he asserts, much to your astonishment. Buggy always struck you as more of the “suck it up buttercup” type. Wait, he was; you’d seen him bark or laugh at pouting crew members more often than not. You had seen him give some comfort, too, but it was always for something inarguably large in scale. Unexpected sympathy from the torch you’ve held longest should have been enough for you to cheer back up, but the vicious fight you’d had with your partner this afternoon still had all your thoughts trending negative. The confrontation had been brewing for a long while, but knowing it was coming didn’t shield you from the hurt.

“Then it’s pathetic,” you argued. “I mean, only sad lovers in sappy plays cry themselves to sleep right?” You tried to play it off as a joke, but the laugh you used to chase it was hollow.

“You’ve been crying?” Mohji asked, worry showing in his face and voice. Next to him, Cabaji scowled and Buggy sat up straight, even placing his feet on the floor.

“Yeah but I’m just being dramatic; I’m a bit oversensitive,” you said, echoing the words your boyfriend had long worked into you.

“No,” Buggy bit out. “I’ve seen you stare down pirates twice your size, coming at you cussing and swinging. You passed the berating month when you got here, and that has had lesser pirates sob their way back off the ship. Hell, you’ve been stabbed and you were more concerned with your friends crying about it.” Buggy snorted and shook his head, distracting you with the way the blue hair swayed from his hat. His heavy leather boots plonked back on the table, rattling the cups and plates, and he shuffled back down into his seat. The look he gave you was bordering on offended. “You’re not dramatic or too sensitive.”

You think your heart may burst - did he really have such a strong opinion of your character? You may have sought Buggy’s presence out because you were upset and you feel protected around him, but you never would’ve dreamed that the outcome would feed your infatuation such a hefty meal.

“He’s been feeding you bullshit hasn’t he?” Cabaji butted in, tone full of contempt.

“He might have… been the one to tell me that first,” you answered hesitantly. Your brows furrowed. Did you really think that of yourself or had he thought it loud enough for the both of you? Was he the only one who thought it? You became stuck looking for answers in the dark liquid in your cup. Meanwhile, the looks Buggy gave your boyfriend had taken on a lot more accusation and threat than teasing.

“See now that’s pathetic,” Cabaji scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “A man who has to belittle his partner is no man at all.”

“Yeah, he’s probably scared ‘cause he knows half the crew would gun for you if you left him,” Mohji laughed. It got you to perk up a touch and giggle with him. Buggy’s hard expression eased at the sound and the sight of a genuine smile pressing at your cheeks.

“Ah, some actual attention would be nice,” you sighed wistfully. Your voice became bitter when you muttered, “Besides digs and requests for sex of course.” Buggy choked on his drink, causing him to pound on his chest in an attempt to recover quickly. The other two were hooting at both your partner’s and Buggy’s expense.

“He’s that bad that he has to beg for it?” Cabaji snarked gleefully.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled, pouting into your drink. “I don’t really find him attractive anymore either.”

“Oh no, sweetcheeks,” Buggy admonished, “You should not put up with some manipulative brat who can’t even please you.” Beyond his distaste for seeing you upset and mistreated, his glee at the wedge between you and your partner left him feeling fluttery. He did have a small pit twisting in his gut though; why would you even go to him if you were barely attracted to one of his most handsome men?

“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” you sighed dreamily, smitten from hearing him send a pet name your way and from his persistent defense of you. Your words and the lovesick look you gave Buggy had him short circuit. He needed to grab at this train of thought and pull the whole thing from you.

“I’m your favorite?” Buggy rushed out. Cabaji and Mohji smirked at each other before looking back to see how this played out.

“Well, um, yeah it’s always been you,” you mumbled. Before you could stop it, your mouth kept moving. “I’ve always wanted you but felt stupid doing anything about it. You’re just really impressive with how well you run the ship and with your chop chop thing and how you don’t turn people away because they’re different and you’re always there for us when we really need you and also your hair is really pretty and you’ve taken really good care of me - um - all of us and you’re so strong and really hot doing like anything and I should-” you finally took a breath “-I should shut up.”

Buggy stared at you wide eyed, mouth agape. The duo next to him was trying to keep in their snickers and doing just an awful job of it. You took another gulp of your drink for something to do. Gods, you don’t think your face has ever felt so hot. You cleared your throat and said, “I think I should-”

“You’re breaking up with him,” Buggy told you. You blinked.

“I am?” you asked, not upset with the idea but confused at the sudden order.

“You are,” Buggy confirmed. His drink was placed on the table with a firm clunk, which his feet echoed on the floor. When he stood before you, you had to crane your neck up to see him with how he loomed into your space. His expression was one you’d never seen on him before; he looked ready to snatch you up and bite down. His sea-green eyes glimmered through the shadows cast across his face. He jerks his chin at the drink in your hand. “That’s your third right?”

“Yes, Captain, my um-” you gave an embarrassed smile “-my mouth gets affected far before everything else.”

“So you feel okay?” he checked one more time, eyes boring into your own and making you feel naked. 

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good,” he started, leaning even more over you and placing his gloved hands on your cheeks. The fabric felt soft and warm and you found yourself leaning into it. “Then you are coming with me.”

Buggy stepped back, leaving his arms with you. One moved around your back and the other behind your knees. They lifted you up and brought you to him in one smooth motion. You still yelped without any jerking, bringing attention to yourself from many of the drinking pirates crammed below deck with you. Flustered, you hid your face in the soft fur lining his coat. Buggy turned to his two highest ranked men. He took in their shit-eating grins and sneered back, mostly in jest.

Buggy moved his look over at your group of friends and most importantly your (ex-)boyfriend. While your friends mostly looked confused (and one giving a thumbs up), the idiot of the hour was livid. Buggy smiled slow and wide, making his canines shine threateningly in the flickering lamplights, and he detached a hand just to flick his fingers in a cheeky wave.

“Cabaji. Mohji.” They straightened at his tone. “Let that one know he’s no longer on my crew and he figures out a way off the ship by tomorrow night or I’m throwing him overboard.”

“Aye, Captain!” They both cheered, tipping their drinks his way.

“Now,” Buggy said softly. He turned and began walking in long strides, expertly weaving through the passing plates, flailing arms, and spinning bodies of his merry band of misfits. The gentle bob and sway of being in his arms managed to settle your scrambling heart and mind, if only a bit. He paused when he reached the stairs to the upper deck. The cheek he leaned down onto the top of your head calmed you even further. “You’re coming with me to my cabin to make up for lost time. Okay?”

Your heart thudded strongly and pressed up at your throat. Your eyes burned. He was still checking in? To give yourself a moment to get rid of the lump in your throat, you turned your head and gave a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Even through his cravat, the action made him shiver. Finally, you answered, “Yes, Captain Buggy.”

The flight up the stairs and to Buggy’s cabin was much swifter and more impatient. Both of you found yourselves thanking the Gods for his devil fruit abilities when they let him open the way without sacrificing his hold on you. He refused to release you until he was kicking his door shut behind him and tearing off his jacket. You took the time to admire the way the muscles in his arms moved as he threw off his hat. His upper body popped up and flew to you so his legs could work at toeing off his boots. You welcomed him to you with open arms and grasping fingers.

Buggy’s grip around you was demanding, one hand fisted in your hair and the other fisted in your shirt. You happily listened to their directions, pushing further into him and offering him your lips. His decorated eyes closed and his painted lips dove to feel yours, only to stop just a hair short. 

“After this you’re mine.” His voice rumbled against your chest and his lips tickled against yours with each syllable. There was a jolt as his legs got back to his body, causing your lips to brush in the closest mimic of a kiss yet. You whined right against the brush of his red lips and pawed at the front of his shirt to ask for more. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Captain.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he was stealing the breath from your lungs. The kiss immediately became open mouthed; he had needed to taste you since he set eyes on you and he had deprived himself of the chance long enough. It was full of dancing tongues, eager lips, and bumping noses and it was better than you had let yourself hope for. 

“You have any idea how long that fucker kept you from me,” he growled. His arms kept you to him in the fervent kiss but his hands flew off to start undoing your pants. Their movements were jerky and rushed and the tugging at your pants made the garment rub pleasantly across your skin. Your body felt alive with the taste of his lips, the pressure of his arms and the pulling of his hands.

“You’ll never think of him again,” Buggy promised darkly between kisses, while his hands began harsh tugs to get your pants and underwear down. When you were stepping out of them, he finally moved back far enough from you to let his hands work on ripping your shirt over your head. Buggy’s lips were back on you before your hair even had time to settle back into place. He nipped your bottom lip and kissed his way to your ear. His hands were making quick work of your bra. “I’m going to replace every bit of his touch on your body with my own.”

Shivers trembled through your body at the feeling of his words being breathed into your ear. The tingling sensation bouncing under your skin only intensified when his hands wedged between your chests and began thumbing at your hardened nipples. While he started walking backwards to the bed, you set on undoing his too numerous belt buckles. You needed to feel his skin on you now. At your unhappy moan, Buggy had his hands help you.

“Impatient?” he teased. He got another whine for his answer. At last, all his belts were undone. The thick one from his waist thunked onto the floor and his shirt followed soon after, pushed off by hurried hands sweeping from pec over shoulder. You hummed at the feeling of his chest hair against your palm and his muscles flexing and moving in your grip. Your arms then wrapped behind his neck, pulling him in to feel his chest press to yours. You jumped at the unexpected feeling of his chest hair teasing at your nipples, making them send pleasant tingles across your skin. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you in just as tightly, making you feel caged and at his mercy. Groping hands separated from his arms to work at the flesh of your hips and ass, the fabric of his gloves causing extra friction.

Buggy’s lips had made their way back to yours, trailing burning kisses and red paint, and his prodding tongue slid back through your parted lips. Your hurried fingers pulled the bandana from his head and scratched across his scalp, setting his hair free. Blue waves cascaded down to tickle your arms and sweep at your cheeks. Your hands broke through the curtain of his soft hair to rid him of his cravat. While your hands continue seeking ways to touch him, his hands left you to swiftly yank each glove off. When his touch came back to you, Buggy moaned loudly at the feeling of your bare, flushed skin under his fingers and palms.

His hands massaged their way down to the backs of your thighs. While he sat himself down on the bed, he used this grip to pull you into his lap. You shivered and moaned as your bare pussy finally got some friction against the leather of his pants. Even through the thick material, you could feel his length twitch against you. An iron grip clamped onto your hips and set the pace of your needy grinding. “Fuck, sweets, you’re gonna ruin my pants. That wet already?”

“Can’t help it,” you whined. “I’ve wanted you so long.” You emphasized your words by grinding down more firmly against him, sliding easily through your slick on the supple leather.

“Fuuuuck,” Buggy groaned low, throwing his head back at the sensations sparking through him with each push of your hips. He pressed back into you with more insistence. “Wanted to take more time with you, treasure, but you’re making it fucking hard.”

He used his chop chop powers to stay attached to you again, separating from his feet so he could float you two to the center of the bed. The weightlessness and tipping of your balance shot adrenaline through you and had your weight increasing the pressure of his hard on against your clit. You dragged nails down Buggy’s chest in your bid for stability, earning a grumbling moan from him.

You may have been the one on top of him, but it was clear from his controlling hands and commanding lips that he was the one in charge. You’d let him keep that power forever if it meant you kept getting to feel his touch tearing into you and taste his skin and tongue and teeth. The smell of your own arousal mixing with the hazy scent of him emanating from his body and sheets had your muscles turning liquid, save the ones helping your hips lure pleasure from his. 

At the next drag of his hips across your cunt, you felt the pressure slide downward and leave you. Your thighs still felt his torso squeezed between them but the lack of support under your pelvis startled you and you began to pull back.

“No, no, sweet thing,” Buggy soothed, “Stay right here.” He trapped you to him with a hand to the back of your head and the other gripping the back of your shoulder. Your sense came back to you a little bit, reminding you of the chop chop fruit, and you relaxed slightly. Foggy eyes watched you as your muscles loosened and you eased back down for your mouths to meet again. The hand in your hair became a fist, urging you even closer, while the other disappeared. The feel of smearing makeup added to the delicious mess of the kiss, all wet lips and sliding tongues.

You slowly raised your hips up in the air, pressing your chest more firmly into his and relieving your thighs of the burn from keeping yourself hovered. Your elbows took the rest of your weight and your hands clung to Buggy’s shoulder and bicep. The air of the room sent a chill through you with how it contrasted to the wet heat you had presented. You weren’t chilled for long though; the draft of the room suddenly stopped reaching you and the bed dipped between your knees as a weight settled there. You felt knees nudging the inside of your own further apart and you happily let them, eagerly arching your cunt even higher.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Buggy growled against your lips. Warm skin met the back of your thighs then the plush of your ass. You let out chirping moans, muffled against his mouth, in burning joy when you felt the slide of his bare cock drag through your lips. “Such an eager little bitch for me; you ever go ass up for him?”

“No,” you panted. “N-no -hah- never, Captain.” Buggy nipped at your lips before he started his way down to your neck. You eagerly arched your chin up and out of the way, getting rewarded with a boiling hot lick across your pulse. Between his ravenous mouth and grinding hips, you were losing track of anything but the impulse to chase what feels good. And all of his touch ravaging over you felt so fucking good. 

The way your hips circled back into his had Buggy losing his mind - he needed to grab at every piece of you, feel you under lips and tongue and teeth and nails, and he needed to feel your warm swollen walls wrapped around him. A thought occurred to him and his mouth flung to your ear.

“Has he ever fucked you raw?” It came out as more of an angry snarl than real words. “Did you let yourself be his little slut?” Hips pressed forward meanly, nearly lifting your knees off of the bed with how he was forcing you to arch. “Answer me.” A hand clamped onto your jaw. Fingers released your hair to dig into the sides of your neck.

“No, sir!” you gasped, delicious pain bringing you back some clarity.

“My perfect girl.” You felt the grumble of his voice vibrate from his chest to yours. Your jaw was released. The punishing pressure on your spine eased as Buggy backed off, only to use his free hand to guide your hips back into greedy grinds. You wanted his handprint marked there forever, and Buggy wouldn’t disappoint. The grip controlling your neck jerked you to look him in the eyes. They were blurry and black with lust, looking like they would be quenched by nothing less than swallowing you whole. “Waiting for your Captain to be the one in your cunt? Already knew that you’re my whore?” The clumsy huffs and moans of “yes” that spilled from your mouth went straight to Buggy’s cock, each one making it throb against you.

“Let me.” His knees pressed at yours and you spread even wider, opening up enough for your clit to constantly rub between the base of his cock and his heavy balls. “Gotta be inside you - own every part of you.” His dominating grip on your hip forced the long grinds into tight circles weighted on your clit. Buggy tugged you down in a quick, needy kiss, tasting the whines on your tongue. “Fuck, give it to me; be mine and I’ll fuck you like this every day, buy you anything you want, do anything you want.”

You were so close already, head buzzing from his rabid pleas and the restricting grip into the sides of your neck. Your heartbeat had moved to pound between your hips, matching the rhythm of his hips grinding into you. If it weren’t for his hand at your neck, your head would’ve lolled forward to leave you drooling against his chest.

Buggy’s detached hand slid over your ass to guide the head of his cock to press at your twitching entrance. The moment he was lined up, his hand flipped down to cup your mound and grind the heel of his palm over your swollen bud. His head stretched you wider than you’re used to and you were already tripping over the edge when you felt yourself pop over the rim of his tip. “Gods, fuck, sweets, you feel like heaven.” He kept sliding in, the stretch not easing as he worked you open. “Never -nnngh- leaving this cunt.” The forearm around your back forced you into his chest even harder. “Gonna tie you up and fuck you all day, shit!” His hips finally met yours, rooted right above the palm still massaging at you.

The first drag back, full of his mushroomed tip pulling at your clenching walls, was your favorite thing you’d ever felt. You could only manage its deliberate push and pull, ending with a shove you felt pressing through your stomach, three more times. “Yes -hahh- yes, y-yes -nnnnghaahh- yes, yes, yes yesyesyes”

Bright pleasure tore up your spine to explode in your head and fizzle out through your every muscle. Your eyes screwed shut, your feet kicked up to clench by your jolting hips, and your fingers dug and trembled into Buggy’s skin. You shoved your head down, forehead pressing into the sweaty side of Buggy’s neck, open mouth gasping out hot air and high pitched moans. Distantly, you heard him darkly muttering, “Fucking hell, good slut, goddamn you’re perfect -mmmmnnhh- my perfect girl.”

Buggy’s grip on you became bruising as he held off on cumming with you. He’d just barely got a taste of the squeeze of your cunt and he needed more. He’d grit his teeth in desperation when he felt you milking him so soon after he had adjusted to the blissful feeling of sinking into you. Now he was absolutely sure he was going to steal you away and keep you forever. He needed to feel your pleasure and desperation at his touch every second of every day for the rest of his life.

“Such a whore, so eager to cum for me,” Buggy praised. He was brushing your hair from your face with shaky fingers, guiding you back from your orgasm. He continued his steady thrusts into you but eased up on his palm when your body went limp. You looked absolutely pathetic slumped against him, ass held in the air still being used for his pleasure.

“That stupid boy ever get you to sound like that?” he goaded. The closest you got to giving a response was a breathy “nuh”. Buggy kissed at your hairline and began picking up the speed of his hips. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good pussy and milk me dry.”

Buggy’s thrusts became punishing and insistent, chasing the blissful pulsing clench of your cunt that he felt at the end of every full stroke. The heel of his palm jostled your clit with each slap of his hips against you, slipping easily against you from how much he had you dripping. Even so, your nerves burned in a way that was just slightly too much. You arched harder to try and lighten the sensation but that only angled your hips so that he hit his hand harder on each thrust. Every impact felt like an electric shock, knocking a high and breathy moan from you each time.

“Sounds so good, treasure, keep singing for me,” Buggy moaned, breath tickling the top of your ear. He wanted to slow himself down to hear you longer, taste you longer, feel the hot wet plush of your pussy forever, but he couldn’t control himself no matter how hard he tried. His body clung to and plunged into you, driven by uncontrolled instinct. He needed to grab and consume you until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. He’d finally admitted to himself how much he was dying to see and own all of you. Now he had you blissed out and pliant against him and he could no longer stand living without knowing the feeling of emptying his cock into you.

“Captain,” you hiccuped, “C-Captain Buggyyyyy, ‘s too much.” You tilted your head up to moan and bite at his neck, needing something to ground you. The salt and heat on your tongue cut through some of the blinding haze. Your fingers kept digging at him to find  some kind of anchor in those slick, tensing muscles.

“You can do it, sweets,” he encouraged breathlessly. “Just -fuck- just be my good whore, just let me hahhhave my fill and I’ll -nnngah- help you rest.” You managed a weak “yes sir” between your moans and whines and Buggy’s hips managed to give you even more. Every nerve he touched inside you was scorching and screaming with the delicious friction and stretch of him pounding into you. Buggy felt the same searing bliss ripping through him, emptying his mind of everything but desire and possession.

Buggy groans, “So close! You’ve been soooooo fucking good for me, my perfect slut.” The hand at your neck had switched back into fisting your hair, so he could drag you up and moan right in your ear. The palm at your clit became a tightly circling thumb and your limp body jolted back to life, clawing, grinding, shaking, and gasping. “That’s fucking it, treasure, need you to cum again and -ahh- I’ll fill you up.”

You used whatever strength you had left to bounce back on his hips. Your used muscles were pounding and swollen, but the praising sounds and extra friction you got with each move had you never wanting to stop. You never knew how good it felt to be fucked hard enough for the force to ripple through the flesh of your ass and thighs and stomach and breasts and you’d do anything to keep feeling it. The crushing grip on your hip kept you steady any time you faltered from your trembling muscles and blanking mind. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this, so completely insatiable, so deliciously overwhelmed, so voraciously claimed. The blazing signals shooting to your head from between your legs started to burn so bright that they were losing detail. That was until all four of Buggy’s fingers touched the very base of your stomach and pushed down hard. 

“Buggy! Buggy! Buggy!” You kept yelping, and his eyes rolled back from the sheer ecstasy of hearing you like this. You were already tight, muscles clamping down hard and winding up for your orgasm but this… There was a firmer pressure with each stroke, especially when he knocked as deep into you as you could stretch, and he was drooling at the fact that his fingertips could feel him fuck himself into you.

“So good, holy shit -hahnngh- you feel so fucking good, treasure, gonna cum,” Buggy was beside himself panting and groaning out for you. His fraying voice became biting and fierce, rabid with need and absolute command. “Need you to cum - cum for your Captain.”

“Yes, sir, yessir please please,” you sobbed into his chest feeling so close but also already over the precipice and feeling everything and numbing out. Your body was going haywire with how good and how much everything felt and you needed something to hold onto. 

“Good fucking girl, good -nnnngh- you’re mine, mine, mine-” Buggy’s voice was all gravel and possession and he chanted the only word he could manage when his balls pulled tight and his dick began to twitch. The clapping of his hips stopped, replaced with deep long grinds that had the weight of his jumping dick play with every inch of your walls and you were gone. You keened and sobbed out at the force of the feelings bursting through you and you could do nothing but quake in his grasp. The hot feeling of his cum pumping into you, cockhead tapping down at the push of his fingers on your stomach, had your eyes rolling back and your legs going limp.

Buggy was pretty sure he lost a minute or two there while he wasn’t able to think past hot, wet, and good. All he knew was that he finally got you and it was better than he ever imagined. His heart stuttered at the feeling of your panting breath cooling his chest and your sweet fingers clumsily trying to draw shapes on his skin. They kept falling limp between attempts due to the strength of your exhaustion, but you were adamant in your need to show him affection. His face split in a dopey grin. Buggy just knew you’d be the perfect little love and now you were his perfect little love. A smug snicker interrupted his heavy breaths from knowing he stole you away from that shithead, and he was going to make sure to pamper you so you’d stay and never have to cry to yourself again. 

Buggy nudged you to the side so that your spine would get some relief from arching. He couldn’t have just let you straight down without your hips being forced down under the weight of his past the edge of his torso. You weren’t allowed to go far though; he felt as if he’d tear apart anything that interrupted all your skin to skin contact. You hummed deep in relief at the change in position and nuzzled your face into Buggy as thanks. He kissed his bright smile onto the top of your head and began massaging a hand into your lower back. This time you moaned at the relieving feeling, earning a chuckle from him.

“Better?” Buggy asked. 

“So much,” you answered. Your eyes and muscles felt heavy and your bones were made of lead. Your breathing had become soft and slow and steady in tandem with his, beginning to draw you under with the promise of a fulfilling slumber. You managed to mumble, “Thank you, Captain,” before you were gone. A more lingering kiss was placed on your head this time. While your mind wasn’t there to receive it, your body felt it and shifted just that much closer into Buggy’s warmth.

Buggy sighed, thinking of the mess that the two of you and the bed were and how much work it’ll be to do the necessary cleaning up. A large problem was detaching you from himself and an even larger and more difficult one was mustering the will to remove himself from you. He gave in to the comfort of holding you, pulling a spare blanket from a basket across the room to lay over you both. Still in deep sleep, you hummed contentedly at the new comfort and warmth, melting Buggy’s heart further. He peppered a few more indulgent kisses onto your temple and hair before snuggling his cheek down into you. He’d decided a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~