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catatombi · 4 months ago

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beware of fang

Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends. Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform Dont harass, dont contact. all of this is public information so https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries

https://fanged-info.carrd.co/ Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly Insta: ffangedd / narilamb Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno Cara: narilamb Blusky: fanged / narilamb Itaku: fanged Artfight: FANGED Toyhouse: FFANGEDD Sheezy: fanged Discord & telegram: narilamb All the people mentioned have given consent Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter If you want any additional context feel free to ask

Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours. He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first. he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD) fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them. He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too. He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him” He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent. Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age) He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces. He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.) When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting” He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide.

Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery. Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG in these screens alone he: admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide

warts screenshots v

full screenshots & complete context in the drive as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything (the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method) https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing

edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24 here is a link to pavi's response warts response and kats response

#cult of the lamb #SORRY FOR TAGGING GUYS ILY #cw call0ut #ffangedd

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sc0tters · 8 months ago

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Distance Apart | Nico Hischier

summary: sometimes all you need is your boyfriend, even if that means he has to put his family above his team.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, like one mention of blood.

word count: 2.78K

authors note: we are back with the Rosie universe! I miss writing for dad Nico and when I asked you guys said you wanted it in this universe so here it is! we have a bit of angst in it but I like how it got to in the end.

pt 1

You were tired.

Rosie had decided that she wanted nothing to do with you after you started showing. You were now seven months pregnant with your baby boy and Rosie was hating it. The poor season that the devils were having, left Rosie and you walking on eggshells around Nico who was constantly stressed out. What made it all that much worse was the fact that Nico hadn’t seen you in weeks and now he was on a road trip with the team.

Nico tried everything to convince you to come with him on the trip but as you couldn’t sleep through the night as your back was killing you. To make matters even worse, Rosie was now feeling your nightly pain as she was having nightmares every night. You were running on mere minutes of sleep which was only going to grow less as Rosie started running a fever.

Yet, still that wasn’t your biggest problem. You were in his cabin in Bern with Rosie as you prepped for the arrival of your new addition. It had been a month since you saw Nico as he came to see you, not hesitating to come during the all star break. But now you were counting down the days until you were no longer a single parent “I know Rosie.” You sighed getting up to hear the sounds of her sobs echoed in the baby monitor.

Her new favorite thing to do was cry for her father “papa!” Rosie wailed as her lights turned on looking for her father’s face “you know he is home my love.” You ran your hands through your greasy hair that you couldn’t remember when you last got the chance to wash it as it seemed that you had been rocking the messy bun for days.

She continued to cry as her red cheeks meant she wasn’t getting any better “let’s go sit outside.” You offered hoping that her play mat would be enough to calm her down whilst she sucked on one of her old frozen teething toys. The 15 month old clung to your shirt hanging to the faint scent of her father that the shirt still had. You attacked what remained of his closet as nothing from your own seemed to fit anymore “I know I miss him too.” You nodded as you sat her on her mat seeing the picture of her and Nico that sat on the table ahead of you both.

It seemed that the world was on your side as your phone began to ring, causing your gaze to snap from the picture “I will be right back. You announced getting up to grab your phone from the kitchen where you’d get her a teether, hoping it would act like a popsicle. Your phone screen was lit up by Nico’s contact just like he promised to call when he got to Las Vegas. You took less than a second to grip your phone to answer the call “hey schatzi!” Nico shut his door smiling as he got to see your face again.

You wanted to tell Nico all about the day you had but instead when Rosie let out a cheer you were reminded of who really needed to see him “Rosie I have your dad!” You announced coming back into the living room with both your phone and the frozen toy.

Nico was full of concern seeing how you never even took the chance to speak to him “hi maus.” He cooed sending her a wave as she sucked on the ice piece “papa!” She sent him a toothy smile whilst you held the phone. All the medicine that Rosie needed was her father’s attention. The duo continued this conversation which was primarily just Nico talking to his daughter ass she nodded along like she understood what he said.

You began to take the moment to shut your eyes falling asleep with your head on the couch as you yawned “maus why don’t you let me talk to your momma?” Nico’s voice combined with Rosie tugging on your shirt it made you look up “hi Nico.” You forced a smile onto your lips.

Being with him for years though Nico knew that you were hiding something “think we should talk about Glasgow.” The Scottish city was in fact where you guys learnt that you were pregnant with Rosie. It was a reminder of the joyous memory, that you now both now used as a code word. Rosie was beginning to want to listen to every single conversation that you guys had, and now used it when you needed to talk about something in private.

He watched you sit there as you tried to ignore his gaze “schatzi please.” He pleaded as he grew worried for what was going on with you in that moment “play with your toys and I’ll be right back.” You kissed Rosies head as she now seemed content with her practical popsicle.

You made the short walk back to the kitchen wanting to keep Rosie in your sights “how are you?” Nico wanted to drop the team and all of his responsibilities to be with you, as guilt consumed him that he wasn’t with you “and don’t lie to me because I will get my mother to move in there if you do.” The offer was something you then responded with being met with a break up. You did love his parents, but you weren’t going to lose your independence.

Now though you were a fraction of that strong woman “I miss my sleep.” You began gripping your hand on your stomach as you let out a grunt “schatzi what is it?” Nico was ready to get out soon the next flight to see you.

You raised your hand to wave off his concern “Rosie can’t sleep and my body is killing me.” Your boobs throbbed under your touch as you groaned “you missing our favorite cure for that?” The captain teased, only to quickly realize that you weren’t in the right mood to hear him joke around.

It was the glare that made him go quiet, opting to regret his sex offer. When you were close to having Rosie you only wanted to climb him like a tree and Nico wasn’t going to stop you as it made you feel comfortable. You groaned again as you were too tired to stay mad at him “I just need this baby out.” Your confession had two meanings, you were done with being pregnant and on top of that you needed your boyfriend back.

Rosie’s rattle echoed as she hit it on the floor “let me talk to my coach.” He could see how drained you looked with the stains on your (his) shirt “absolutely not.” You shook your head refusing to be the reason why he would leave his team “we can survive for the next month without you.” It was clear you were lying and it took Nico everything to keep his mouth shut as he sent you a look of concern.

He wanted to argue but knew that you’d just hang up “there is no harm in wanting a bit of help y/n.” He felt horrible that he couldn’t be there for you, but with your boy coming at the end of the season you both agreed it was best for you to be in Bern. His words made your gaze sharpen “I’m fine.” You snapped making him run his fingers through his hair as he let out a sigh.

The captain hated it when you got all closed up and refused to let him help “just let me in.” Nico pleaded as he watched you shake your head “it is hard to do that when you aren’t here!” You grumbled reminding him of the fact that you were practically alone. Your tone made Rosie cry, causing your head to snap in her direction.

Your fingers rubbed your temples as you groaned “look I need to go get that.” It was the last thing either of you needed as you hung up letting Nico see his reflection in the screen “fuck!” He groaned throwing his phone across his room in frustration.

This time you were lucky that all Rosie wanted was company “papa!” She cried gripping her hands out to hold you “I know honey.” You sighed pulling her into your arms as you began to rock her trying to soothe your upset toddler “I miss him too.” Yelling at him was the first time you felt like you had any kind of control over something in days and now here you were feeling like an ass.

On the other side of the world after sleeping on it Nico was shoving his things back into his suitcase “what are you doing?” Timo furrowed his eyebrows as he walked in to see a disheveled Nico rummaging around his room “I need m-my passport and I can’t.” Nico sat on his bed not knowing much of what to do.

He was grateful that you made him bring it all of his roadies now in case you gave birth when he was gone “but can you breathe for me?” Timo crouched in front of his captain wondering what could have pushed him to this as Nico nodded “then I’m pretty sure you need this if you want to meet your baby boy.” The blonde fiddled with the passport in his hand as he waved it in front of his teammate.

Nico felt his eyes go wide seeing the book he tried so hard to find “it was on the table when I walked in.” Timo explained as he watched the captain get up “my girls need me.” Nico reminded himself of the reason why he was leaving this team “go get ‘em then.” Timo sent the boy a salute as he watched him run out of his room.

After an argument you and Nico usually didn’t talk until you both calmed down, but now you were sat staring at your phone as you reread the headline Nico Hischier will be taking a leave of absence for personal reasons. Nina sensed your worry as she handed you a cup of tea “I’m sure he is coming here because he wants to check on you both.” You called his sister in tears when you realized you had gone too far in getting mad at him.

You nodded hoping she was right “but what if he just goes back to his apartment instead?” You asked watching Rosie smile at Nina “and it seems like I am the only person she cries around.” You mumbled pushing your head into the pillow behind you.

Nina pulled her niece onto her lap “Nico is in love with you and Rosie loves you too.” She reminded you as she placed her hand on your knee “you are a great mom and don’t forget it.” As you stared at the garden in front of you Nina knew you had every worst case scenario run through your mind as you were a mess. The calmest girl she had ever met was now focused on everything that wasn’t her.

You forced a smile onto your lips as you tried to act receptive to the compliment “look I have to get to work but don’t forget you call if you need anything.” Nina kissed Rosie’s head as she didn’t want to leave you two alone “I will.’ You nodded watching her leave.

After she left you couldn’t shake the fact that you were failing, as a partner, a mother, and even a pregnant woman. So as Rosie went down for a nap you opted for a shower, forcing yourself out of your clothes as you went to shower. As the warm water hit your skin you forgot how great it felt to let the lavender scent of your shower gel invade your nostrils. But not even that soothing scent could calm you down from the pain you felt in your stomach “ahhh.” You moaned running your hand under your belly as something felt off, the water turned a shade of crimson red only making you panic.

Each moment faded into the next as you got out of the shower and grabbed whatever clothing you could find rushing to the door as you picked up Rosie and your delivery bag from the front door. Tears clouded your eyes as you drove yourself to the hospital feeling as alone as ever.

Nico was surprised to see Nina stood at the airport waiting for him, but when he saw the fear in her eyes he knew something was wrong “the baby is coming.” His mom had come to the hospital after she was called with Rosie needing supervision “no we still have over a month.” Nico felt his mouth go dry as he shook his head

Nina nodded as she shrugged “I know but he is coming and has been for two hours now so hurry up.” She clasped her hands together taking his duffle as the siblings pushed out of the airport running to get to you.

The hospital room was quiet as you felt numb, by the time you had woken up again you were no longer pregnant and couldn’t even hold him as he was in ICU “schatzi.” Nico gasped seeing you look up at him “I’m so sorry.” You apologized feeling your eyes fill with tears as you shook your head thinking about how the last thing you did was yell at him.

Nico couldn’t let you continue as he wrapped his arms around you “no baby don’t say that.” He kissed your head as his thumb wiped away your tears from your cheek “I didn’t even get to see him.” All you got was a nurses description of your baby.

It killed him hearing the pain in your voice “been told he is okay and strong.” Nico squeezed your shoulders as he watched you nod trying to calm down “really?” It made you feel like you really did get to see him.

He moved to sit in front of you taking up the side of your bed as he nodded “I really am sorry for everything I said though.” You reached out for his hand honestly glad to see that he really was there “can we agree to never fight over the phone again.”He announced making you quickly nod “it’s far more enjoyable making you sleep on the couch when I see it happen.” Your joke made him suck at his teeth only causing your grin to grow wider.

There was a moment where the two of you were able to just enjoy each others company “I really have missed you.” You mumbled watching him move closer to you “then it is a good thing I have the next three weeks off.” Nico kissed your lips as you furrowed your eyebrow.

As you cocked your head you wanted to point out that he only had two weeks nobody needs to know that you are no longer pregnant.” He shrugged resting his forehead against yours “I love you so much.” You mumbled kissing his lips once more.

Hours had passed and you had taken a nap and were now clear and ready to see your boy “you better not crash me Hischier.” You warned placing your feet on your footrests “would be a funny way to end this date.” He teased making you giggle before you winced “don’t make me laugh you ass.” You groaned gripping at your stomach trying to avoid the stitches from the c-section wound.

He squeezed your shoulder as an apology “you ready to see our boy?” There was a hopefulness in his voice as he looked to the room number in the NICU “you know it.” You nodded failing to hide the grin on your face as he pushed you into the room.

You let out a gasp seeing him laying in his crib “he’s so sweet.” You pressed your hand against your chest as you cooed “c’mon mama let’s see him.” Nico held his hand out to yours.

The captain helped you up looking around to make sure you guys weren’t caught by any nurses “he is perfect.” You felt your voice break as you smiled “little Elias is all ours too.” Nico watched how your eyes couldn’t leave him.

It was the happiest he had seen you in weeks “so how long until you’re clear for our favorite activity?” Nico smirked as he ran his fingers along your back “I just got the last one out, you are celibate for the foreseeable.” You warned sending him a glare as he laughed kissing your temple.

“There’s my girl.”

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #amber writes fics #ambers love moments

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espinosaurusrexex · 5 days ago

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A degree? Who needs that anyway?

Boyfriend!Bucky x Female!Reader

summary: Bucky noticed you were exhausted during this time of the semester. Being the supportive golden retriever boyfriend he was, he just wanted to make you feel better. Unfortunately, his efforts only showed him how stressed you really were. So he vowed to support you through it all.

a/n: I have finally finished all my work and am back in business, baby! I'm so excited to spend the cozy season writing and posting again. Thank you for being so patient and supporting. I am so unbelievably grateful for this community. This is for all the academic girlies struggling through exam season like I do...

word count: 1.9k

warnings: feelings stress and not being enough, perfectionsim (and the pressure that comes with it), projecting self worth onto academic achievements, Bucky being adorable and supportive (perfect boyfriend alert!), just a whole lotta fluff

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝒄.𝒂𝒊 ✧*･ﾟ

You were stressed. Bucky knew it. Everyone was walking on eggshells around you, if - ever - you allowed yourself to step out of the apartment to see your friends or work your part-time job. He'd never seen you like this. You were a social butterfly, the total opposite of him with the ability to recharge when you were around the people you loved most. But for a month or so you'd been living the hermit life. And Bucky did not like it one bit.

It gave him an uneasy feeling, a squeeze to his heart, a hatred for anything that could potentially set you off. Because it was there - the potential. He was just waiting for it. For the shoe to drop, for you to break. For him to go on a rampage against all things bothering you.

He knew you were strong and stubborn, and that you hated to ask people for help. But there was only so much a person could endure. Hell, Bucky knew too well himself. Because he was the same. He hated asking for help - he hated accepting that he was bad at something. But this... just broke his heart.

He tried to take you out, to get you to eat with him - anything to get you back to your normal routines. But not even when he mentioned your favorite pastime activity did he get an enthusiastic smile out of you. That’s when he knew something was seriously wrong. Well, not something. He knew it was University. You’d complained about your professors at the beginning of the semester to him, how they were too ambitious for their own good and required a mountain of weekly readings not even that guy from Transformers could manage. Now... towards the end of the term, he saw how that ambition bled into your papers and final exams.

And Bucky? Well, he didn’t know how to act around you. It seemed like a silly selfish problem but normally you would be the one seeking contact and physical touch. He enjoyed it every time but he was just not good at initiating it himself. You’d seemed to shut him out completely. Working yourself away on your desk only to fall asleep on it and have Bucky carry you to bed. He hated seeing you like this.

He knew it wasn’t a permanent state - it couldn’t be. Because even though he considered you the strongest person he knew, there had to be a point at which even you broke.

And then, one day, it just happened. Without warning. Bucky hadn’t wanted to be right, so he had just ignored the thought of your breaking beneath all the pressure completely. And that was why he did not have as much as a hunch when you were talking over breakfast and the dam broke.

You had been up since well before Bucky had finally convinced you to eat with him. He’d even gone to your favorite bakery this morning to get the little pudding pastries you loved so much. And when he came back, he silently pulled your chair back and dropped you at the dining table. Everything seemed pretty good for a while. And then, out of nowhere, while Bucky was telling you about his trip to the Bakery, you had just started crying - hard.

Bucky had never seen so many tears. Not even when the wives of his fellow soldiers stood at the peer waving his comrades goodbye with white handkerchiefs. He shook the memory away. He thought the amount of tears quite impossible with the neglect of drinking water he had witnessed over the past week but they just kept coming. And Bucky wanted to hold you but something told him it wouldn't help one bit.

You were sobbing into your hands drawing in shaky breaths as you hid your face from him and everything inside him began to scream. Scream at him for sitting there frozen like an idiot and screaming at all the professors who deserved nothing more than a good punch in their oh so intelligent faces.

"It's just all too much. I’m so exhausted, Bucky.” A trembling breath that was muffled by your hands pressing into your mouth. Bucky was raging, but he let you continue. “And I hate that... I hate that I let this consume so much of my time and ...me. I hate that I let it affect me so much when I’m at the point at which I don't even know if it's worth it anymore.”

Bucky drew in a sharp breath at that statement. You had been working so hard, dedicated so much time and effort to work toward a goal he wanted you to achieve as much as you wanted to initially. To hear you doubt yourself broke his heart into a million pieces. He knew you were capable of it, but something told him not to say that just now. It was then you finally lifted your face and let your reddened eyes search for his. His fingers itched to touch your face. Why didn’t he do so?

“And it doesn’t help that everyone believes in me you know?” He nodded, though he didn’t quite understand. “I love each of my friends but every person that tells me they believe in me and how they don’t even doubt I’ll make it adds more pressure on top of the standard I set for myself.”

This was it. This was the moment he needed to touch you. Bucky rose from his chair and knelt down beside yours. His warm hand reached up toward your face and you immediately fell into his embrace. Your forehead pressed into his muscular shoulder, your arms reached around him and his entire body felt tingly as relief flooded through it.

"I am so scared I'm going to fail.” You exhaled into his shirt as his hand gently stroked your back. He wanted to tell you how failing wasn’t bad. How much he would love you regardless and how stupid a dumb degree was anyway. He wanted to kiss you and whisper against your skin how you could excel at everything you tried by simply being yourself because, for Bucky, you were the epitome of perfection.

But he didn’t do any of it. Because he also knew how important this was for you. Even if you were questioning if anything was worth it at this point - it definitely wasn’t in his eyes if it meant seeing you so crushed by something as trivial as a file on your computer - Bucky knew he’d help you walk through a hurricane if that was what you needed from him. Hell, he’d gladly do so if it would bring your beautiful smile back to your face. This degree felt really close to what he imagined walking through a hurricane to be like right about now. And he thought that he would never want one himself if this was what you had to go through in order to get it. Besides, who needed a degree anyway? Back in his day, you weren’t more special for it. Being a soldier did the job just fine... then again, that was probably worse than the hurricane thing. Focus Bucky.

Bucky pulled back and kissed your tears off your face and then he pressed one more kiss to your salty lips for good measure. Yes, he’d do anything for you - degree or not.

“What can I do to help you, love? I hate seeing you like this.” He froze for a second in fear of adding more pressure by expressing his sadness. And surely, you just started crying harder as your face fell forward again. Oh no, Bucky thought.

“I-“ you hick-uped, “I don’t know.” Seriously where did you get all that water from? “I love you so much. And I appreciate you so much and I know you want to comfort me but if we were to cuddle for an hour I would just stress myself out about the time I could spend studying - even if all I wanna do is cuddle you.” The stream didn’t stop when you cried harder. “And I hate that!”

Bucky nodded frustrated. "I love you too.” And then he cradled your head with his metal hand.

For a good minute, you just stayed like this. Bucky pressed you deeper into his chest until your sobs slowly died down and your stuffy breathing became steadier. He kissed your hair just to stroke over it again and then kiss it once more. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he did something that relaxed you a little. And even though you had just cried a river in your kitchen, you were so much calmer than before.

You sniffled adorably when you looked up at him after some time. “Just know I know how difficult I am right now. I cannot wait for this to be over. It’s just... I don’t even know how to take care of myself right now, I can’t possibly know how to include you in this as well.” A final tear fell and Bucky was fast to wipe it away. “But I am so glad you’re here.”

“Okay, I understand.” He answered and hugged you again, vowing to initiate daily cuddle/relief breaks from here on out. There wasn’t much he could do, he knew that and hated it too. If he could, he would write your papers for you, but Bucky was convinced he was not nearly smart enough for that, so anything else had to make do. He’d keep the apartment clean so you had a good atmosphere to learn, he’d make sure you slept and ate on time, and he’d supply all the love you deserved regardless of exam season. “And you just know that I will be here for you, patiently waiting until you have the capacity to include me again.” He pushed your hair from your forehead and kissed you sweetly. “I will support you in everything you do...” Another kiss, this one, you reciprocated. “Always.” And another long, warm lasting kiss to seal his promise. “If you promise me one thing... one thing only,” he whispered.

“What is it?” You whispered back.

“Promise to let me take care of you. I know you would spend 25 hours in a day studying if it were possible, but you can't keep it up like this.” He nodded. “Let me make sure you have the headspace for all your studying. Don’t deny my bringing you food, or dragging you to bed. And collect at least three kisses and one hug every day for emotional support,” he smiled faintly, a cheeky glimmer in his eyes that shone in yours as well.

“Okay, I promise.”

Bucky kissed you again, pressing your body against his with gentle strength. His heart began to beat faster when he felt your nails rake down his shoulders.

From then on Bucky would come up to you and hug you for a couple seconds, calling it ‘quick recharge’. He would hold you when you cried - but only when you cried because you needed to spend your dedicated hours of studying- holding you was for later. And then he would remind you to drink enough water after watching your tears soak into his shirt. But what he looked forward to the most, were the evenings when you would cuddle into his side in bed and let him lull you to sleep. He felt accomplished as he watched you relax outside the study schedule you set up with him, being able to fully be present when you ate together or went to bed. There were still rough times, but Bucky was there to hold you regardless, smiling at the fact that his touch could calm you down and that it would be over soon - and then he’d spend entire days making up for everything that fell short because of that viscous degree.

please take care of yourself, just like Bucky would during an exhausting time like this 💛

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 7 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs @scott-loki-barnes @gabshouse @i-spy-1812 @barnes1031 @am-3-thyst @awkotaco24 @star-buck-barnes @armystay89 @missaprilt23 @rexit-mo @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @winchestert101 @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @mcu21lover19 @pigeonmama @wilsons-striped-ties @caplanbuckybarnes @rosecentury @somnorvos @looking1016 @beansprout713

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sexlapis · 10 months ago

Text

my baby, my baby…

୨ৎ toji x reader

gender neutral!reader, reader is having a difficult time ;(, talks of depression, anxiety, nausea & headaches, soft!toji

wc: 1.4k

a/n: been feeling down & blue lately… craving the comfort of big man 💭🧸

masterlists

relief floods you as you walk into your cosy house, abruptly dropping your bag on the floor carelessly and throwing off your uncomfortable shoes. a tired and weak sigh leaves your mouth as you plod in the living room.

there is a weight of a long day that rests heavy on your shoulders, the tendons of your muscles wound up tight, as is the nauseous pit in your lower stomach.

the superficial, constant chatter with your colleagues and clients, having to skip lunch due to how busy it was, the never ending feeling of isolation and loneliness even around so many other people, the confining feeling of businesswear, the everyday stress, how everyone relied on your contributions that you believe to be insignificant and trivial, the now growing headache at the back of your head…

you are exhausted.

sadly for you, your anxious nature likes to make itself known all throughout your whole entire body, most commonly burying itself in your stomach and intestine, morphing into faux sickness and nausea that no amount of pressure point massages or medicine could solve.

you are exhausted.

this behaviour of yours has been going on for the past two months and toji, your sweet and observant husband, has obviously taken notice.

he notices your dark circles and eyebags, your more drowsy and slow demeanour, the irritableness, the skin-picking to the point of blood drawn and the hair pulling. to say toji is worried would be an understatement.

he is being more gentle with you, you can tell. it’s like he’s walking on…eggshells around you, not wanting to say the wrong thing in case you blow up or have a meltdown.

you’re not a fan of such treatment even though you are aware that if he acted in any other way, you probably would have snapped by now.

toji asks if you are okay, if you need anything, if you want anything.

and you. you say no and proceed with your picture perfect daily routine of meditation, journaling, exercise, consuming a healthy breakfast, diligently working your job and going to sleep at a normal time.

yet none of these are able to quell the hollow in the depth of your organs, the same hollow that runs through your veins, your arteries and right to your very core.

you fall onto the couch and lay your body across it, sinking into the softness and resting your head down on a pillow.

now, after this shitty day, you just want to cuddle with your big, protective husband who you love dearly.

your phone vibrates against your leg and you snatch quickly despite your enervation, wishing the notification to be a message from toji. toji will make this all better.

unfortunately, nothing about your day seems to be going to plan.

tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you read over toji’s message.

toji🐻🩷

gonna be back really late dont stay awake for me

a frustrated snarl escapes from your lips and you’re flinging your phone across the room in a fit of fury, that is quickly replaced with sadness.

your shoulders shake and you cover your mouth to hold in your loud sobs, tears trickling down the bridge of your nose and cheek, soaking the pillow you lay on.

even in the sanctuary of your home, loneliness does not elude you at all.

the pounding in your head eased slightly, just enough for you to find repose as the past weeks finally catch up with you and you fall into a deep sleep.

toji enters the house around ten thirty at night. he cracks his neck, removes his shoes and places his rucksack on a nearby chair. his foot catches on something and he stumbles before regaining his balance, hissing in annoyance and looking back sharply to glare at whatever tripped him up.

your work shoes.

he looks around on the floor and sees your bag on the floor nearby.

that’s odd of you. you do not usually leave a mess on the floor, especially in the doorway.

toji huffs. “‘the hell…”

he hangs up his jacket on the coat rack and walks in the living room, where he then finds you, asleep on the couch.

it makes toji sigh. he told you not to wait for him. so why did you so clearly do just that?

you feel yourself being shaken back and forth by the shoulder and toji quietly calling out your name.

“_____…_____, wake up…”

you groan, blinking your eyes open. the dryness of your throat, the cracked skin of your lips and the drool smeared on your cheek is enough to tell you that you’ve been asleep for quite some time.

toji is back. it must be ten at night by now, and you arrived home at five.

you had been asleep for five hours.

toji sits on the couch next to where you thighs are, the seat dipping with his weight and places a hand on your waist, “_____, i told you to go to bed and not wait up, didn’t i?”

you sit up and lick your dry lips, trying to find your words. you look down and fiddle with your fingers, picking at your skin, “no, i…i didn’t..i didn’t,” you interrupt yourself with a long yawn, “i didn’t wait for you..jus’ fell asleep.”

“fell asleep, huh? in your work clothes and on the couch? _____, you never do that.”

a hum from you is the response he gets and silence falls thereafter.

toji takes this moment to scan you over.

the deep lines of fatigue under your eyes, the frown on your lips, the dullness in your once vibrant complexion, the newfound slowness of your movements, the lost look in your eyes..

you were not looking too good.

“hey,” he says softly, ducking his head a little to get a look at your downtilted face, “you okay? what’s wrong? please just tell me.”

the concern and tenderness in his voice flood your eyes with tears, and you whimper, “everything…everything is just fucking shit.”

a hiccuped sob leaves you as you start to really cry again, all of your pent up emotions coming to surface and you let it all out.

and toji is cooing at you, shocked at your sudden weeping but swiftly wrapping his arms around you and scooping you into his lap, “oh, baby…”

you bawl into his work uniform as he cradles you in his lap, nuzzling his face into the top of your head while rocking himself back and forth, calming you down with sweet “sh, sh, shh ��s” and “i know, i know ‘s”.

the tension in your body lessens with each tear that rolls down your face, the release of emotions overwhelms yet relaxes you all at once.

toji strokes your head and back, calming your erratic, hefty breaths and your quick heartbeat until your weeps gradually turn into sniffles and your whimpers turn into sad hums.

it’s quiet for a while as you settle with toji’s help.

toji is still caressing your soft hair when he speaks again, “‘that feel better?”

“…mhm.”

“okay.”

a beat of silence falls over the two of you, the only sound being the crisp crackle of the fireplace and your heavy breathing.

you feel your face heat up in embarrassment at your emotional breakdown.

this was all your fault, anyway. if you had spoken to somebody about your feelings and had been honest with toji from the beginning, then this would not have happened. but that’s just the special thing about you. bottling up all of your emotions, letting the water and waves rise until the dam cracks and bursts open, destroying everything in its path including yourself.

“sorry…i’m sorry,” you garble tearfully, “i should’ve..should’ve said something sooner…”

“don’t be dumb, ‘s fine.”

toji fushiguro, the comforter you are.

toji isn’t the most gentle or sensitive man, but he’s him. he’s toji, broken and scarred and soft toji and that’s all that matters to you.

you nuzzle into his broad neck, inhaling the now soothing scent of smoke, cigarettes and rubber.

the safety, reassurance and protection you feel while in his arms was immense and nothing compared to it. knowing toji will always have your back and will always be there for and never judge makes you feel a little worse for not telling him about your issues. toji understands.

“y’know we’re gonna have to talk about this, right? no more keeping this shit to yourself.” toji asks.

“yeah,” you sigh, already dreading the looming but necessary conversation, “yes, i know.”

“but we can do it another day. ‘think someone needs some medicine and some food. and good nights sleep in a bed,” he squints his eyes as he looks down at you, making you cower. you’re definitely not saying no to that, “how does some takeout sound?”

warmth rushes through your chest as you stare at his love-filled eyes and how the orange light flickers across his face, which holds a tender expression. you feel better already.

“yeah, that sounds good toji.”

a/n: i luv toji <33

#toji x reader #toji fluff #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

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twost3ps · 5 months ago

Text

This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel #guitarhero #adamsapple #michael x adam #adam x lucifer #hazbin hotel michael #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #my au #guitarstars #if i miss tag guys pls dont be afraid to tell me #even old posts

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cameronspecial · 11 months ago

Text

I Will Slap You, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mean Y/N, Mentions of Sex and Birth

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Pregnancy doesn't look so great on Y/N and Rafe, but good thing it's almost over.

Masterlist

Rafe isn’t going to lie. Pregnant Y/N is a scary Y/N. She’s a lot more moody and demanding than his usual angel is. Any little thing can make her snap and he has been walking on eggshells for almost nine months. His family would say that Rafe is just as unbearable. If they thought he was doting on Y/N before, then her being pregnant showed an even more overbearing side. Rafe helps rearrange the pillows on the couch and places about ten blankets over top of Y/N, who is getting ready for a nap. “Are you warm enough? Are there enough pillows?” he frets over her, rearranging one of the blankets that is slipping off. Sarah chuckles, “I think she has enough, Rafe. She could survive in the North Pole with how many blankets you have her buried under.” “I would never let her be in that situation,” he barks. How could Sarah think that he would let anything happen to Y/N? “Would you two shut up? Cranky woman trying to nap here,” Y/N complains, turning on her side to sleep. At least she doesn’t blame her pregnancy for her mood. Rafe rushes to her side, “I’m so sorry, Angel. Sarah and I will go in the kitchen.” Rafe kisses his wife’s head and forces his sister into the other room.

The siblings talk in whispered voices after being scolded again by the pregnant woman. It’s been about an hour and Rafe has started to get his angel’s snack ready. A piercing yell causes both Camerons to dash to the living room. “Angel, are you alright? What’s happening? Do you need a massage?” he cries out, rushing to her side. Sarah follows in worry for her sister-in-law. They find Y/N hunched over with her hand on her stomach. She glares at them, “No, you dingus. I’m going into labour.”

Rafe’s face flushes and he turns to his sister. “Get the go bag, please. It’s in the nursery. I’ll get her in the car.” Sarah nods and runs off to do as asked, while Rafe picks Y/N up bridal style and brings her to his truck. Every bounce of Rafe’s rushed manner intensifies the pain shooting through her body. “Slow down. You aren’t trying to win a race. We also have to time the contractions, dumbass,” she critiques between her screams. Rafe starts an internal timer in his mind at her scream, “Right, thank you for reminding me. You are so smart, Angel.” He places her in the car and she glowers at him with another yell. “I don’t care how smart you think I am. Get me to the damn hospital before I do it myself,” she growls. Rafe is quick to get to the driver’s side, texting Sarah to meet him at the hospital.

———

Y/N and Rafe got to the hospital a little earlier than medically required and the staff were almost not going to let them into a room, but Y/N’s angry demeanour and Rafe’s money-slipping hands caused the staff to change their mind. It’s been about sixteen hours and the couple is absolutely exhausted. Finally, it’s time for Y/N to push. She had insisted on giving birth in Goddess pose and Rafe isn’t one to argue about it. “You are doing so great, Angel. I am so proud of you,” Rafe praises, smoothing her sweaty hair down. Y/N has had enough of his pampering. She’s been here for so long and that’s all she’s been listening to. “I will slap you, Rafe. Stop talking or I will have them throw you out. You don’t know how much this hurts, so I only want to hear my own voice from now on,” she snarls at him. Rafe immediately stops, instead resolving to silently encourage her.

Rafe’s focus is between her legs, waiting for the moment his child enters the world when he feels her hand cross his face. One hand rubs his cheek, “What was that for?” “For getting me pregnant and not being the one to give birth,” she explains, squeezing his hand harder. He pouts at her words, “I am so sorry that I can’t be the one going through this, Angel. It kills me to know you are hurting and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I am never having sex with you again. I never want to go through this again.”

“And I fully support that, Angel. We can always adopt or foster if we want to have more kids.”

———

An hour later, Asher Wesley Cameron rests on his mother’s chest, sleeping in her warmth. “He’s perfect,” Y/N whispers and kisses his head. Rafe admires the new mother, “Because he is a mixture of both of us.” He takes a second before asking his next question. “Did you really mean what you said about having sex?” Y/N giggles at the worry in his voice, “Only a little bit. We definitely won’t be having sex until the doctor gives the go-ahead but after that… How else are we supposed to make this little guy a sibling?” “I thought you said you didn’t want to give birth to another baby,” his eyes twinkle as he looks at her. She shrugs, “It hurt like hell, but it was worth it. I would do it one more time even if they are only half as perfect as Asher. I do want to foster though. There are so many children that need a safe home.” Rafe’s lips find her forehead. “Whatever you want. I will follow your lead, Angel.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

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dogwithrabies · 6 months ago

Text

【★】 gn reader but described as afab, kinda mean scara, reader is a masochist lol

【☆】 ignoring the fact that i disappeared for like 8 months, hi, new thingy (reup)

word count: 4.3k

There’s no coming back from those offices. Everyone knows that, it’s like an open secret between the ranks of the fatui.

One gets called in for a “little chat” and then just disappears, there are no deserters allowed in an organization like this. Too many secrets.

The lower ranking soldiers always gossip about whoever the next one is gonna be, it keeps everyone on edge, just one measly mistake in front of a general, or worse, a harbinger and it’s over. It doesn’t help that other privates will often turn on eachother, reporting their comrade’s mistakes to get on their supervisor’s good side, in a sense, the fatui has eyes everywhere.

Your days of walking on eggshells are long over, thank the Tstaritsa, but it doesn’t mean you’re completely safe either. Being a general yourself, you’ve been faced with many hard decisions, sometimes covering up the mistakes of a soldier, sending back touched up reports hoping no supervisor will notice any discrepancy.

“Your empathy will come back to bite you in the ass”.

It’s a sentence the Balladeer threw your way once, it wasn't advice out of the goodness of his (non-existent) heart. Matter of fact, he didn’t even spare you a glance before walking past you, on his way to scold another soldier. How stupid, he must've thought, sharing your already scarce meal with a tiny bird that sought refuge under the shadow of your feet.

But you just can’t help it. In your early days you could only pray someone spared you the same kindness you give out now.

But that was a long time ago. You went on many other expeditions in the Balladeer’s team, somehow always managing not to fess up and prove yourself worthy of your role. It was a noteworthy achievement, after all his bad temper was notorious to anyone who spent even a few minutes in his presence.

The Balladeer does not go out of his way to compliment anyone, flattery is not his style. Just the absence of any reprimand is more than enough to tell you you’re doing good.

However, that does not stop you from wasting time fantasizing about such scenarios.

“You’re doing good.” What a dream it would be to hear that. “You’re being good.”

But the image you have of him in your mind is a far-fetched, rose-tinted version of the one in front of you now. You’re not as stupid as to warp his essence into anything even remotely kind. You know of his temperament, sometimes you’d even go as far as to think he’s not even human.

During an expedition, he slapped a soldier once. It was late in the evening and some soldiers decided to let out some steam with a few drinks. It just so happened that one of them got a little too… feisty.

But the Balladeer did not let go of his face. He just kind of stared at the red mark his hand left, squishing the fat of his cheeks in some weird torturous ritual, moving the skin around to admire the shape of the coagulated blood under his skin. He was so close he could feel the shaky breaths of the poor guy fanning on his face.

He relented only once he was satisfied. He enjoys the fear in people’s faces. No, fear is just an expression, it’s the pure terror that spreads in someone’s whole body that excites him.

He can tell the exact moment when someone switches from being scared to dreading losing their life.

It’s something you’ve seen several times yourself, never hesitate, to end someone’s life. Hesitation makes you waver, staring at someone’s eyes makes you acknowledge that they’re scared, they’re human.

He never wavers. Hm. He’s either incredibly cruel… or just above your kind? You take a mental note of that.

The first thought excites you, that tiny familiar buzzing feeling running down your spine.

It’s so unfair.

No, that’s not right, you quickly shake that thought off. Who would ever dream of being at the receiving end of the Balladeer’s ire?

It’s not the first time you find yourself spiraling that same line of thought. But he’s just so pretty.

You suppose that in order to make it out alive of his squadron one needs to grow tough skin, tolerating his humiliation tactics and aggressions. You just never thought you’d develop a liking to that.

How the mighty have fallen. You used to be so respectable.

You can’t even begin to picture his disgusted expression if he found out that deep down, a part of you hoped he would lay his hand on you.

Or if he knew how many sleepless nights you spent rubbing your thighs together, trying to get rid of a heat that just wouldn’t go away.

Or, additionally, if he knew that the first thing you did in your new private (perks of being promoted) room was to disregard your clothes and immediately push your fingers in your aching needy cunt. Thinking of him.

How absolutely shameful. You wonder if your stay in the fatui awakened something in you. Or maybe you were always like this.

But you’re always so composed. And your fatui mask covers any blushing on your face;

No one would be able to detect your attraction to him based on your behavior.

After all, it was very common to hear creaking sounds at night. That’s just what happens when you force young adults in a shared room together. People just turn the other way. Ignore the sound and go to sleep.

You feel yourself getting warmer at the sight of him walking towards your squadron.

It’s another of those annoying training sessions, you don’t have to participate, just surveil the cadets. It doesn’t fall within your assignments, it’s your Lord Balladeer’s job, but he so kindly sacked you his responsibilities. After all, he’s above watching insignificant men stumble in knee high snow.

But you’re just so distracted.

He’s sitting on a chair with a tiny table in front of him, quickly skimming through huge piles of paper. The huge fur of his coat shields his face from your view (a shame, he looks so cute when concentrating), but he’s not covering anything else. His tiny shorts slightly hike up his legs as he shifts to put one leg over the other, revealing even more skin.

Just how is he not getting cold?

You huff, your breath crystalizing in front of you, forming a tiny mist as if proving your point.

It’s freezing. And he’s out there with his usual attire. Not that you’re complaining, you always had a thing for his legs. Always looking at the way they crease and shift on his thighs every time he crouches to look at something. You always watch him with such an intense gaze.

It’s not weird. It is your job to ensure his safety after all.

Not that he needs it. You’ve seen him in combat, not many enemies survive after the first shock of electro.

It’s scary. It’s exciting.

He also uses it to correct small mistakes. He’s shocked you once after you almost tripped while serving him tea.

It was tiny and barely audible but your finger spasmed in an uncomfortable position, and then it was over.

He let out a humorous hum at your shocked expression, then quickly dismissed you.

You spent the rest of the day thinking about that small encounter.

Thinking about all the other ways he could use his shocks on you. Maybe they could simulate the effects of a vibrator (just a slightly painful one). You’re not allowed to bring anything with you when you join the fatui. And using your hands or humping your pillow always leaves you yearning for more.

So lost in thought. You didn’t even notice the way he was staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Not anger, not disappointment, something more akin to… disbelief.

He knew you would cover up your underling’s mistakes sometimes, he couldn’t be bothered to call you out on that. But to let so many incompetent cadets trip on the same wall, face-planting on the snow and mud without even taking note of that? Right in front of him?

Were you hoping he was too busy with his papers to not notice that, or are not even paying attention?

Your tendency to sometimes space out is something he was very aware of. But you never actively slacked off on your tasks. This is new, not unexpected but new. You were bound to disappoint him, after all, it is in your nature as a human. He needs to stop this before it becomes a habit and gets in the way of his work.

He quickly calls some other general to take your place. You barely register when he calls your name. His voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up in shivers.

“Come.” He firmly says before walking off the training grounds.

You hesitate for a second, your eyes focusing back on the view in front of you. Your lord wants a word with you? Just how deep in thought were you to not even notice him staring holes in your back? It can’t be any good.

You follow after him, catching up with him and watching the back of his coat sway with each step.

The inside of the palace is just as cold as the outside. The only relief a fatuus gets is the mercy of being shielded from the icy winds. It’s only when you set foot inside his office that you finally let yourself breathe.

The whole walk to his private office is full of agonizing spiraling thoughts. Surely this isn’t one of those “little chats”, right? The soldiers guarding the door don’t even spare the two of you a glance, their masks covering your expression, but you’re sure they pity you in some way.

The Balladeer is not known for his kindness, but even through his hate filled vision of humanity, he knows the intrinsic need of every being for validation. Not that he’s going to give them any, he has no interest in building any amicable relations in this organization, lest it serves him to reach his goals the future. But it would also be very troublesome to replace even more of his subordinates. Were he in an altered mood he would’ve just electrocuted on the spot.

Recognizing when one of his useless soldiers actually has a shred of potential is not something he’s very keen on doing, but the alternative is to put up with more incompetent fools, and that’s not on his agenda.

He sits on his chair, moving papers around on his desk. You watch him as he smacks his lips and lets out a silent huff as he finally rearranges the papers to his liking.

You’re shacking, he attributes it to the cold. Humans have always been so much weaker and more vulnerable than him. His skin is cold, glacially cold, but it’s not a feeling he registers.

Even his coat is just for show.

Your cheeks are red, but it’s (at least partially) not from the cold. Now that his coat is off you get a full view of his face. His dashing red liner perfectly contours his eyes, giving them a sharp intense look. He begins talking to you, his voice is calm and smooth, at least he’s not mad at you.

It’s about your zoning off.

It’s not something you do on purpose, but it’s just so hard to focus when you're so damn horny.

Frankly, you’re more surprised he didn’t just slap you on the spot, not that you would’ve minded. Maybe your Lord is showing you his mercy? The thought of him showing you any form of kindness makes heat slowly creep up your face. The cold slowly leaves your body as warmth replaces it, the overwhelming feeling leaving you to fiddle with the hem of your clothing.

“My deepest apologies, it will never happen again, my Lord”.

This is to be expected, addressing him with the right honorifics and apologizing is the correct (and preferred) outcome. He blinks slowly, at least he saved himself a migraine.

What he doesn’t expect is to not see you when he opens his eyes. He didn’t dismiss you. He gets up from his chair but stops when he finally spots you, on your knees with your forehead touching the ground.

“I want to make it up to you, my Lord”, you say, still not moving from your position.

This. This he likes. Usually, he’s the one forcing his subordinates to kneel in front of him, and not in a kind way either. Pressing their face on whatever unfortunate surface they were standing on, purposefully applying more pressure than needed, hoping his boots would leave a heavy mark on their face. Sometimes they would do it out of their own volition, but it doesn’t stem from an urgent need to show him their worship, it was out of fear.

“Hm.” He makes his way to the couch on the side of his desk and sits crosslegged. “Come here,”

But he interrupts you before you can push yourself on your feet- “No, stay like that.

It takes you a second to process that he wants you to crawl your way to him. You awkwardly move your body, trying not to trip on your own coat before settling in front of him.

He puts his hand on your cheeks, lightly squishing them before raising his fingers and taking your mask off, leaving your expression bare before him. It’s no different than any other fatuus mask, but he slowly examines it regardless.

“Go on, show me your devotion, (Name),” he says, shifting so his knees are on each side

Just the fact that he knows your name makes you shudder. You’re not sure of what exactly he wants from you, but you’re already in a bizarre enough situation, so you decide to follow your instincts.

You slowly wrap your hand around his boot, raising it until you can comfortably lower your face, letting your lips come in contact with it. His eyes widen for a moment, as you continue rubbing your face on the side of his boot. Their surface is clean, that bit of snow remaining gets smothered on your skin, melting away.

“Hah”, moving to other boot, you repeat the same motion “At least you know where you belong.”

His voice has a layer of malice to it, like he’s elated by this outcome. Your hand comes in contact with his skin, it’s so cold, like touching freshly piled snow. Opting to rub his legs in a meek attempt at warming them up, you press your lips to his knee, savoring the moment.

Any other person would feel humiliated in this situation, worshipping at your Lord’s feet, but this, it’s like a dream come true to you. Being so close to the object of your attraction makes your head go spinning. It feels unreal just being able to lay your hands on them. You shouldn't press your luck. but it’s so tempting to just reach over and grope him all over.

He would probably kill you.

Maybe.

Perhaps if you’re slow and methodical about it you can manage to get a tiny bit closer to his thighs. Masking your need as devotion.

You place your lips just above his knee, your hands moving under it, rubbing at the soft skin. He’s also curious about how far you’re willing to push yourself. He’s no fool, he knows you’re scared of crossing a line you’re not even aware of. He could be kind and point you in the right direction, but watching you struggle to restrain yourself while mindlessly mouthing at his skin is a show too good to pass on.

Eventually, he widens his legs, just enough to allow you to sit deeper in between them. This new position allows you to reach further. It stuns you for a moment, hesitantly putting your hands on his thighs, looking at his face for any sign of vexation. When you don’t find any, you deem it safe to push further, lowering your face to latch your mouth on the exposed skin. Leaving a slightly wet trail everywhere you go.

He’s let you get this far, and if the way he moves his legs giving you even more access is any indicator of his enjoyment, it encourages you to try your luck.

Your hand slips under his shorts, slowly pushing them up. You lock eyes, and for a second you fear you’ve overstayed your welcome, luckily that’s not the case.

“No markings.” His hand now rests on your head, slowly moving your hair out of your face.

Would it even be possible to leave marks? His skin shows no imperfections and it’s so smooth it makes you want to lose yourself in it. But it also feels… tougher? While rubbing it with your hands, it felt robust, like if you sunk your teeth in it it wouldn’t break even the upper layer. Maybe just leave a mark. A sign you were there.

But now is not the time to get lost in your imagination. Not when the real deal is in front of you, inviting you to have your fill.

You pinch lightly at the flesh of his inner thighs, you’re so close to his crotch, if it wasn’t for that piece of armor around his waist, the side of your face would be squished in it.

“Enough teasing,” He says, and almost as if he was reading your mind, he rids himself of the armor and other superfluous frills attached to it. “Get to work.”

Now that nothing is blocking your view, you can see the bulge that formed under all those clothing.

The sight makes you drool, as you immediately reach a hand to slightly squeeze it. Your eagerness amuses him, but he’s grown impatient. His grip on your hair is much tighter now, dragging your face until it’s directly flush with his clothed erection.

“You better not waste my time” His tone is harsh and firm, and it just makes the heat between your legs worse. When his grip relents, you push yourself away just enough to pull down his shorts. He shifts his hips up, aiding you in sliding them off.

Now that his erection is free, it bounces slightly as your breath fans over it. The tip is a cute shade of pink, beads of precum leaking from it. But he doesn’t give you the time to admire it any longer, grabbing himself from the hilt to slap it on your face a few times. The sound of skin slapping against skin is the only audible thing in the room. It makes your head spin. To think you’d have the privilege of being the one he unleashes his sexual frustrations on.

He pulls your head up, tapping his dick on your lips. You open your mouth, letting him rest his tip on it, and your lips wrap around him, tasting him.

Were it any other situation, you’d take your time in savoring this moment, slowly sliding your tongue around his girth, letting his desire grow. But this is different, like if your performance doesn’t satisfy him he might just kill you on the spot.

And the thought shouldn’t turn you on, for a second the thought of biting him just to piss him off crosses your mind. What a way to go that would be.

Alas, not wanting to keep him waiting, you make an effort to take as much of him as you can, until your nose is flush with his pelvis.

He lets out a satisfied sigh and that slight expression of annoyance leaves his face, your mouth is warm and wet, and the movement of you swallowing around sends shivers down his spine.

“That’s it,” his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. “That’s good.”

The mere hint of him praising you makes you shudder, you’re so soaked your underwear is sticking to your cunt. You want to thank him, but speaking with him in your mouth proves to be difficult, it comes out as an unintelligible hum, whether he understood you or not he seems to appreciate the vibration of your throat.

He pulls your head back, urging you to start moving, seemingly done with just enjoying your throat. You drag yourself back until his tip is once again resting on your tongue, and then push it all back in, as far as you can go. You manage to work up a steady rhythm, one that leaves small moans escape from his mouth. They’re breathy, but every time you manage to wring one out of him is like a win to you. Each little noise of his spurs you on further. One of your hands reaches up to grab the rest of him, moving up and down in synch with your mouth, while the other reaches down and inside your uniform pants, rubbing at your clit.

“F-fuck… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Your eyes trail up to look at his, his flushed face looking back at you.

“Me using your mouth turns you on.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and to put more emphasis on it he shifts his legs until one of them is resting between your own.

“You’re doing a good job… I guess I should reward you.”

He shoves his boot up, as if kicking your hand away. He wants you to…. oh.

Complacently, you shift lower until your full weight is resting on him, the absence of your fingers replaced by him. It takes you a moment to adjust to this new position, but once you get back on your rhythm you resume your ministrations on him, while slowly grinding on his leg.

His other hand reaches your head, threading your hair before settling a firm grip next to the other, you’re given a moment of reprise before he shoves his hips forward, roughly, holding you in place.

His thrusts are fast and merciless, each one reaching deeper inside your throat. You close your eyes, trying not to gag when he reaches a bit too deep, not that you have the ability to complain, all you can do is try your best to accommodate him as he uses you to get off. Your hips start moving a bit faster too, the thought of you being a mere means to an end in his eyes is turning you on more than you’d like. And he notices.

His cock throbs in your mouth and he lets out a breathy laugh, “So pathetic. Humping my leg like a dog in heat.”

You open your eyes for a moment to look at him. He’s grinning at you, looking at you as if you were something truly beneath him, pushing his hips in rougher as if to accentuate that. The sounds of saliva and cum smacking around your lips are so obscenely loud, you’d have half a mind to almost be embarrassed by it, but there’s a knot tightening in your stomach, and it grows tighter and tighter with every thrust of your hips. It doesn’t help that with every thrust his leg moves slightly up against you, coaxing you into an orgasm.

Your hands clamp on his thighs, hard, the shuddering of your hips slowing down as you unwind on him. You let out withered moans, barely audible but still sending pleasurable vibrations up his length.

You’re straight up drooling around him at this point, saliva sliding down your chin and on his balls. He’s sounding a bit breathier above you, and you can feel him twitching with more vigor inside your throat. Your body limp on his makes it easier to thrust deeper.

He pushes in as far as your throat allows him and stills there. You’re prepared to feel him coming down your throat, but he pushes your head back suddenly, so far back his dick slides off your mouth with a wet pop.

He’s stroking himself above you for a moment until there’s a brief pause, interrupted by a breathless curse as he finishes on the top of your lips, riddling your face with his come.

He sags back down on the couch, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm with you still in between his legs. His chest heaves up and down, catching his breath, but his moment of peace is short lived as he speaks up.

“I guess you did prove yourself,” he says as he slowly tucks himself back in his pants. You squint up at him. You don’t move from your position, still sitting even as he removes his leg from underneath you, breathing slowly and deeply now that his dick occupying your airways.

When you come to your senses you start searching around with your gaze for a tissue or even some rag to clean yourself up, you’re truly in an unpresentable state. Your hair is messily pulled out of its ties, strands flying everywhere and some glued to your face. Your face… Awkwardly, you wipe your lips, trying to at least dry up the saliva but there’s nothing you can do to hide the very evident cum sticking on… everything else. You can’t just walk out in this state- you do have a reputation to uphold. And rumors travel fast- by the end of the day every cadet would know of the shameful state you left the Balladeer’s office in, and it wouldn’t take long for them to put two and two together-

“Oh. This belongs to you.” He says holding your mask, seemingly noticing your inner monologue. “You’ll be needing it out there.” He adds as he puts it back on your face, squishing that bit of cum on your cheeks.

“You can go now. I’ll call you again when I need your… assistance.”

#dog writes #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

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hitlikehammers · 9 months ago

Text

bring him home

rating: t ♥️ cw: Eddie in the Upside Down,; Steve on what he thinks is a retrieval mission for his body (it's not); Eddie Munson Lives; Kas!Eddie (ish) ♥️ tags: established relationship, secret pre-S4 relationship, post-S4, presumed dead (Eddie), mourning and heartbreak (Steve), happy ending (because Eddie is alive, ofc), soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-four: Love is the only thing we can take with us (@thefreakandthehair)

oh hey look, another day I didn't intend to write at all ♥️ but then @pearynice was intrigued by a stray half-baked idea and I struggle to not at least try to provide content in such instances ♥️

He’s only thought it since, since, but he’s actually kind of grateful no one knew. That no one could even have guessed. They’re on eggshells around him enough as it is, thinking it’s the loss, finally, that he couldn’t walk them back from, couldn’t recover them allfrom safe if not wholly sound. They think he’s dealing with survivor’s guilt or just the general blow of a failure so immense, maybe long overdue: and that’s probably part of it.

But only because it’s part of the bigger thing. The real loss.

They would have been together nearly ten fucking months, y’know; the better part of a whole goddamn year since that day at the mall, eyes catching and something just…clicking. Like the barest whisper breathing this could be something into the universe for them to catch if they wanted, and for all that’s still good in the world they both wanted, beyond any kind of logic they both fucking reached.

And Steve knows he’s worrying everyone, knows Joyce cooks for him because she’s sacred for him, knows Claudia bakes for the very same reason; he knows Robin’s gone back to biting her nails over him, and he hates that, he hates it but, like: Steve feels like he left his soul in that hellscape with the man he’d wrapped up in it; knows he left his heart there, because he gave it to that same man ages ago and never ever considered taking it back—and he’s kind of just a, a shell, now, and it’s good that they all think Steve’s just fucked up over the lost, over-inflated savior complex, Rob had muttered more than once and sure, fine—let them think that’s all it is.

It means he can plan without interference.

It means he can drive to the last oozing rift in the world with axes he found in the garage, a crowbar he grabbed at The War Zone—which he knows because he found a receipt, not because he can remember going, driving, paying; he fucking can’t—a fucking tire lift that he things is better suited to trucks than his Beemer but that’s why he needs it: he need to rip open the earth beneath his feet because maybe his heart died down there with the boy he loves in ways he didn’t know he could, not until he found those reserves of feeling inside him well up for the fact of him and maybe it’s too later for his heart, and maybe his soul’s locked in as a funeral shroud but godadmn it all—

Steve needs to bring Eddie’s body home.

Dropping through he fissure in the ground is second nature, like something calling him through the break and that feel right, because the Upside Down for what it is alone is somewhere Steve never wants to be, never wants to touch: but what it holds now what it stole from him and claimed and kept: Steve wants that back beside him, it doesn’t matter how. Cold, torn, broken, gone—Steve’s already those things himself. Now he’s just a raw nerve, but if that nerve could go numb, could freeze for so much pain, so much abuse and hurt. He feels more for the knowledge of how much things should destroy him; he thinks his body is more of an echo chamber, a void that moves but isn’t…there anymore.

Is here, because he left the best of him, the whole of him here, and he—it creaks in his knees when he hits the ground on the other side, shoots up his spine from the bones of him on contact; it should hurt, it should hurt but he can’t feel so much, and he needs to get his bearings, needs to orient, needs to figure where he is and the quickest way to Forest Hills, to where Eddie—

He can’t feel shit when he’s got a purpose, here: the first he’s had in weeks.

He moves to stand, gets to his feet at—

It’s unexpected, how much he feels the impact that knocks him back down, the weight that pushes him to the ground again and covers him, snarls at him, breathes hot and violent against his jaw, against his neck, and Steve—

Steve’ll die here, that’s clear from the hiss above him, the way he’s pinned like prey, like a meal, and the only thought he really has, in all honesty, is he’ll die here.

But he already died here, so it just feels kinda anticlimactic.

The panting against him keeps up, but it…it doesn’t go anywhere, it doesn’t become other, or more—there’s no teeth, no clawing or biting or ripping him apart, draining him dry. He doesn’t think he was afraid for any of it, exactly; his heart’s pounding but it feels distant, other and something far from him, disconnected: not a part of his shell-self, so he thinks that’s just ingrained, just an automatic response to a demo-something, probably, sizing up its meal but like, it’s not doing anything and Steve, Steve doesn’t…he’s not invested, exactly, he doesn’t even think he cares, but—

He squints his eyes open the barest crack where he’d instinctively squeezed them shut and he looks, expects the toothy petals, or even a veiny body; he looks and—

“Eddie?”

Oh, good. Heart, soul: may as well add losing his fucking mind to this place, too, third time’s a goddamn charm.

Because it’s not Eddie, it can’t be…it can’t be Eddie, and—

Not-Eddie leans into him, presses onto him full-bodied, hips to chest, thighs spread to hold him down like he’s going anywhere because, because…

Steve feels that. He feels the pressure, he feels pain where this body drags against scrapes in Steve’s skin, he feels his heart pounding, Jesus fucking Christ, that fucking hurts, but he looks at the face that’s looming over him, tipped to the side like it’s asking a question, like it’s considering Steve below, and it: the bones are sharper, the skin more pale, more drawn up tight and pulled—the eyes are red, bright like when the lighting cuts the sky, here, but everything else…

“Eddie, oh god,” Steve doesn’t want to question it, Steve doesn’t want to keep his mind if the alternative is moments with some version of Eddie whose breath he can feel again, it’s, he’s;

“Eds,” he chokes, and Eddie’s got him wholly pinned down, he can’t reach for Eddie’s face to cup it, to cradle it, so he lets his breath catch, his lungs hitch, lets the tears burn on their way from his eyes in streams as he twitches his fingers, stretches the tips to brush Eddie’s palm where he holds Steve down and—

Eddie stills, and his eyes narrow, and…

And if Steve has to die here, again: let it be at Eddie’s hands. Let it be maybe for Eddie’s…benefit, he’s wellbeing, however he survives here. Let it be for Eddie.

Always for Eddie.

But then Eddie: Eddie doesn’t let him up, still lean into Steve from the middle, but—he buries his head at Steve’s neck, and breathes in so deep, Steve gets to close his eyes and soak in the feeling of his chest rising into Steve’s own: strong.

Real.

“Known,” Eddie murmurs, shakes his head like he’s trying to shoo a fly, but then a shiver trembles through the whole of him, Steve can trace its trajectory where Eddie’s held against him, and then Eddie growls—it’s not a wholly new sound but it’s deeper, more animal in it than Steve’s ever heard and then he bites out through bared teeth: “Known.”

Then he draws back from Steve’s neck, studies him shrewdly, a little hesitant, like he’s unsure of whatever’s happening to him, in him: then he nods, chews at his lower lip in a painfully familiar move before his hands leave Steve’s wrists and he’s—

“Known.”

He’s tracing Steve’s cheekbones, the line of his jaw; he’s running his nose against the slope of Steve’s, he’s…it’s like he’s tracing him, and he does it so gentle, he almost like he anticipates it, he’s—

“Known,” and Eddie’s fucking…it’s not a growl this time but somehow whatever it is, is deeper, stronger, and he mouths at Steve’s neck again but instead of breathing him in, he’s sucking at the lines of his arteries down the sides, up and down, and then he follows the blood to the sounds, groans at a pitch Steve’s never heard before but it’s still, it’s sill Eddie, and—

“Hurt?” Eddie mouths at his chest through the layers of his clothes, sounds mournful, stills as he considers something, intent with it before his head pops up, those red eyes so wide and aching as his hands tap against Steve’s arms, frantic and—

Oh.

Oh; they’re tapping out Steve’s heartbeats to every racing clench-give echoing through his ribs and Eddie moans, almost wails, then—

“Hurt,” and he looks frantic, his eyes wild, and his mouth dropped open, bereft and seeking and oh, oh: Eddie thinks his heart’s pounding because he’s hurt, because he’s in pain and kinda, a little bit but not like that and—

“No,” Steve’s quick to try and soothe, even if his voice is barely a rasp; “no, no,” and his wrists are free to he reaches, covers Eddie’s hands and links their fingers together, feels something in him reanimate, come straight back into being just for that touch, and that it’s warm:

“Happy,” Steve gasps, and squeezes Eddie’s hands with force, with feeling; “happy, to see you,” and he closes his eyes in something like relief when Eddie’s mouth stills against his chest again; sighs when Eddie nuzzles there, like he always did, like he belongs because he always belongs.

“So fucking happy,” Steve breathes, and he feels weightless; wonders if he died. If he hit the ground and snapped his neck. If the impact was a monster and not the love of his life, somehow saved from ruin just to save Steve back in kind.

“Mine,” Eddie whispers, a little bit of a hiss for the feeling in it, the intensity sewn in as he mouths around the beat of Steve’s blood: that’s what he means. That’s his, that and everything it powers, everything it lends life.

His.

He pulls back, and Steve bites back a whimper for the loss before Eddie’s eyes find his and he looks…he looks lost, then, grasping, in need as he almost begs, like the answer is the end of all things:

“Mine?”

He lifts one of their joined hands—he doesn’t disentangle them, and fuck if Steve’s ever letting go—but he lifts them to Steve’s chest and holds there, presses down and looks pointedly at the way his palm covers Steve’s heart, looks up in askance, up and down, there and back over and again, more desperate every time and Steve tightens his fingers around Eddie’s and nods, just nods because his voice is gone, his throat’s too tight, he’s—

But Eddie sees it. Eddie understands because Eddie…

Eddie always understands what Steve can’t say.

“Mine,” he exhales like it’s the answer to the universe, like it’s proof of god and the devil, like it’s more than air to breathe and Steve’s…

Steve doesn’t even know what he is. Except: he’s alive.

He died before he left here last time, and now somehow he’s alive. “Known, s’known,” Eddie mutters, shakes his head slow and pins his gaze on different parts go Steve’s body, touches and looks up to Steve like it serves as confirmation just to meet his gaze, to watch him blink; “know, know,” and Eddie bends again, mouths at his chest and inhales sharp as he rips out, almost feral: “mine,” and then something in him gives, and he falls to Steve’s chest and Steve’s heart skips, the terror in him tangible, but he throws out his hands, lets Eddie’s grasp go to hold Eddie up and Eddie panting, gasping, something has to be wrong—

“St,” Eddie’s voice is sandpaper rough, but…but full somehow and Steve can’t name what it is, save that it makes him feel warm, from the inside, in a way he’d thought was gone forever. It prickles at his eyes and he doesn’t fight the tears:

“Ste,” Eddie coughs a little, and then he looks up, brow furrowed and muscles tight as he locks his eyes on Steve’s and grits out:

“Steve?”

And those eyes: those eyes meet Steve’s now—color in them, that depthless nightshade, drenched in that deep warm chocolate shade: Steve’s breath catches. His heartbeat skips again, but wholly different, and it looks, it feels like a weight’s been lifted; a spell’s been broken. And somehow, somehow even before anything shifted, somehow Eddie, his Eddie, he—

Whatever’s happened, whatever’s been done to him: somehow, deeper than any of it, he kept the love.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s voice shakes and he drops his weight again but this time when he presses against Steve it’s to wrap him close, to hold him a little clumsy, a whole lot desperate, and it…it feels like maybe Steve’s soul where it’s wrapped around Eddie? Like maybe he gets a little bit of it back; like maybe he can inhale and it could mean something again.

Eddie only draws back to tuck his head under Steve’s chin, to dip lower and put his lips to the center of Steve’s chest, to breathe there, like life into the heart of him again and fuck, but he feels it.

He kinda doesn’t need to know anything more, doesn’t need to have any more answers to know whatever this is, whatever Eddie needs: they’ll figure it out. Eddie’s lips are on his chest. His heart’s a mallet against Eddie’s mouth, beats up into the warm rush of his breath: there. Real.

Steve feels it.

also on ao3 🖤

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #established relationship #kas!eddie #established steddie #pre-S4 relationship #presumed dead #(but obviously NOT)#happy ending #steve mounts a one-man rescue/retrieval mission because he's heartbroken #eddie recognizes the love of his life because in light of everything he HELD ONTO THAT LOVE #steddielovemonth #love is the only thing we can take with us #stranger things

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cherri-rice · 2 months ago

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Moral of the Story~

(Bakugou x Reader)

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•

Everyone knows that Bakugou Katsuki has the biggest ego and that he doesn’t believe that someone could ever be better than him.

He wants what he wants.

And he wants what he can’t have.

But he’ll find a way.

You and Bakugou have been together for 7 years, and were currently in the process of getting married. You only ever had eyes for him, ever since middle school. Even when he was rude and treated people horribly wrong.

You even stayed with him when he told your classmate to jump off the top of the school building. You stayed when he was on his death bed recovering in the hospital. When you had to spend extra shifts at work to pay off the hospital bills. When he wouldn’t pay a dime of rent, or even pay for groceries.

Even his lashing out and aggressive behavior couldn’t get you to leave the trance you were stuck in.

You had all these questions and feeling about if he even valued your relationship. But when he proposed to you, all your worries vanished. You felt nothing but joy when he asked you to marry him.

You had never wanted anything more in your life.

You said yes.

Second year of high school was when he first asked you out. It wasn’t anything big. It never was. But you had all this built up love and admiration towards him, for how strong he was and how he never could be beat, that you couldn't see that it was fun to him. To have someone that thought he could do no wrong. So, he kept you close.

You let him get away with everything, you expected his half assed apologies. The ones where he’d come home late, late enough to know you were already sleeping, and he’d put a small trinket with a few words written in ink on a sticky note and place it on the nightstand.

He’d be gone in the morning before you woke up. You’d see the apology and forget why you were even mad in the first place.

But today.

Today felt different.

Today was your birthday and you couldn’t shake the feeling of regret, sadness and guilt.

Today you were turning 25. And you couldn’t help but feel like your life was missing something vital. Something you didn’t have to worry about. Someone you didn’t have to walk on eggshells for.

You went about your day going to work, having a few cards and small gifts from your coworkers, went out for a celebration drink, and went home.

Not at all throughout the day did Bakugou text you, not even a happy birthday message.

When you arrived home he was already asleep, passed out on your shared bed. Looking at his sleeping form you felt anger and frustration. You felt you were drowning in dejection and unhappiness.

You were uncertain of where these emotions came from and why you felt them now. You had always loved and cared so deeply for Bakugou. But after 7 forgotten birthdays and countless missed anniversaries, you just could do it.

All these memories of you waiting for him just for him to no show. Memories of arguments that you just had to let go of and surrender. Memory after memory. They came rushing back to the front of your mind. It’s all you could think, all you could remember was how he humiliated you in front of the entirety of Japan a vast amount of times.

You couldn’t help but feel insecure. Like you weren’t enough.

So you decided that you needed to see a counselor.

One that was going to give you the right answers. One that was going to help you move past this feeling.

After many months of trying to converse with Bakugou and how you were feeling, and not getting anywhere you decided that maybe your counselor was right.

“Where’d you find this guy?”

“I guess…I just fell in love with the wrong person”

It hurt to leave but you couldn’t be in a house that didn’t feel like a home. You had packed your things and left a note on Bakugou’s office desk stating how his treatment was making you feel. Telling him that it was over and that even if he came looking for you he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Walking a way from the house and to the train station, you left for Europe.

Over the course of three years you lived in the shantytown of Otheon. It was peaceful and you had a decent paying job. Able to provide for yourself. You even make a new friend.

Soul Rody. He was a cool guy that had two cute little siblings that you found just adorable. Rody was your roommate. He let you live with him after you impulsively left Japan with no clue how you were going to live in Europe.

“Oh. One more thing. I have a friend that’s going to be visiting. Just letting you in know before you freak out because a random guy is in the house.”

You didn’t know Rody had any other friends. He never mentioned anyone for as long as you’ve known him.

‘A friend?’

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Requests are open

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hgfictionwriter · 6 months ago

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Mending

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Despite how great a girlfriend Jessie is, old hurt bleeds into your relationship with her and threatens to dismantle it.

Warnings: Mentions of emotional manipulation and abuse.

A/N: Bit of angst and hurt as reader recalls past experiences, but very much a comfort and reassurance fic. Happy ending. Based on this request.

"Hey, change of plans, instead of going out for dinner after the game on Saturday, Becky's invited us all to go to her house instead."

A heavy pit immediately formed in your stomach as you read Jessie's message. You totally forgot about dinner with her and the team on Saturday. Suddenly, the memory of you agreeing to come to dinner to celebrate Becky's milestone caps was vivid in your mind, unfortunately too late though.

You chewed the inside of your lip as you stared at her message and fret about what to do.

"Jessie, I'm so, so sorry. I completely forgot. I have [y/best friend]'s birthday that night. I didn't realize when I agreed that there was a conflict. We have reservations and tickets to an event that night. I'm really sorry - I don't think I can go to your game or to Becky's after. I wish I could though."

"I can't believe I didn't notice sooner. I promise I will make it up to you. I know you have plans the next day already, but maybe we could grab breakfast together?"

"All good. I have errands to run in the morning, so can't do breakfast."

You stared at Jessie's message. It wasn't warm like her usual texts. And she didn't offer an alternative or continue the conversation. Your chest tightened.

"That's okay! I wanted to offer. I'm really sorry, Jessie. I promise I'll pay closer attention next time. Maybe I could meet you after my event is over?"

"Or maybe I can skip part of something and join you for a bit that evening?"

A couple of hours passed - no response.

You stared at the messages with Jessie and fidgeted anxiously. You were supposed to be focused on a project right now, but you hadn't typed more than 50 words since Jessie texted.

You checked your phone incessantly. Your mind knew no new texts had come through, yet you checked with blind faith and hope that you'd see a message from her.

Logically, you knew she was probably just busy. She was at training, after all. But she'd made time to text you earlier. And she'd texted at various points of training before.

Your stomach churned, a heavy, deep pit inside of you, as you wondered if Jessie was mad at you for cancelling. And did she actually have errands that morning – or was she just upset with you.

The anxiety and unrest building inside of you was a feeling that was all too familiar and it hit you hard because of it.

You tried to remind yourself that Jessie wasn't your ex. Nor was she like your ex. She wasn't someone who would manipulate you, punish you with mind games and emotional warfare, and dangle her affection above your head as a reward you may receive if you were perfect enough.

At least Jessie wasn't like that so far. It had only been a couple of months. And you've seen people take great care and patience in slowly reveal who they are – and not for the better.

You sighed and felt a lump form in your throat. You hated being stuck in this state. You finally worked up the courage to leave your ex – and she didn't make it easy – but you wanted a better life.

You didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore. You didn't want to analyze every little action and word. You didn't want to try to anticipate your partner – doing your best to ward off her bad moods and brace yourself for when you weren't successful.

So, could you cancel on [y/best friend]? Well, anything's possible. But, you didn't want to. You gave up so much of yourself and your life on account of your ex and you swore you wouldn't do it again. Not even for someone as incredible as Jessie.

Yet, here you were making unprompted, borderline-desperate accommodations. The way you fell into old, bad habits left you dejected and ashamed. It felt like no matter how hard you tried to break cycles or damaging mindsets, simple things pulled you right back.

Several hours passed and you felt like you were going to be sick. Your mind was noisy with self-reprimanding thoughts and endless theories.

On your way home, you were looking at your messages with Jessie again when the typing bubble came up. Your body stilled and your breath hitched in your chest. You mouth was dry as you waited.

"You don't have to do any of that, Y/N. Seriously. Go to your friend's party!"

What did that really mean? Maybe it should've made you feel better, but instead you felt your worry grow.

You chewed your lip and typed out a reply.

"I can do both! I want to make it work. I'm sorry – that's what I should've said from the beginning."

"What? No. You don't need to. Go to [y/best friend]'s party."

"But I want to support you. And I don't want you to think I'm not prioritizing you."

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's happening. I think I've said something that's come across wrong. I'm not upset or bothered at all. I know you support me and prioritize me. And to be clear, you shouldn't prioritize me above yourself or everyone else."

You read Jessie's message. While you were dissecting everything she said, this message made you slow down and take a step back. It felt genuine – as far as you could tell. Maybe it was real.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I guess I was just reading into things and getting in my head. I'm sorry."

"Baby. Are you okay? What's going on?"

Without warning, you felt tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. You really wanted this relationship to be different. For you to be different, and you were ruining things anyway.

You were lost in your thoughts when your phone began to vibrate in your hand. You stopped in your tracks as your eyes shot down to see Jessie's name and picture. Your pulse quickened, but in a way you weren't used to with Jessie. Normally, it was excitement and anticipation, but in this moment you felt trepidation. You started walking again and reluctantly picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Jessie's voice was warm and despite your concerns, immediately comforting. "I was going to wait for your text, but I thought maybe phone would be better. Things can get misconstrued easily with text. So...what's going on? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm great." It pained you to muster up the false levity in your voice. "I'm sorry to worry you."

"You know, I'm the Canadian here, and yet you are doing an awful lot of apologizing. And you really don't need to," she offered with a soft laugh.

"I'm-" You stopped yourself with a near flinch before the word 'sorry' came out again. You took a quick breath and spoke evenly. "I'm okay. Really. Like I said, I was just getting in my head. It's all good though. Thanks for clarifying."

"Okay," Jessie said slowly, clearly not fully convinced. "I mean, can you tell me what I said that caused that? It definitely wasn't my intention."

You couldn't prevent your frustrated sigh from escaping you. You quickly spoke up to prevent Jessie from thinking it was about her.

"Honestly Jessie, it's okay. It's not on you. I just wanted to make sure I didn't upset you."

"Why would I be upset? I-" Jessie's tone was curious and not accusatory, but you cut her off.

"I wasn't paying close enough attention and I had to cancel on you. And I know your team was expecting me to be there too, so now you have to make an excuse for me." You swallowed and took a short breath, unsure if you wanted to go on or not. "And, I don't know. You seemed kind of curt? Or not that warm when you first responded? And then I didn't hear from you for a while..." Your voice wavered and trailed off as you heard your own words, a sense of anger rising inside of you at how pathetic you sounded.

"Baby," Jessie said affectionately, though you heard a faint laugh coming through the phone, "I'm really sorry. I was rushing to text you before we went out on the pitch, so that's why my texts were a bit more curt or blunt than usual, but I wanted to reply to you before I'd be gone for a while. I guess I didn't think about how that might be worse."

You listened to her reply, still feeling small, and failed to come up with a response before she spoke again.

"Are you free tonight?" She asked. "And by 'tonight' I mean in like an hour."

You stammered briefly, skepticism and confusion clouding your response before finding your voice. "Yeah." You let a beat pass. "Any reason why?" You asked tentatively.

Jessie laughed gently. "Because I'd like to come over and bring you dinner if you're up for it."

Your jaw clenched subconsciously. This didn't feel right. But still, you nodded. "Sure. That'd be nice." You couldn't stop yourself before you continued. "But you really don't need to. I've already caused issues today. Like, you don't need to change your plans or go out of your way. I'm totally fine."

"Sushi or Vietnamese?" She asked you undeterred.

"I-I don't know. Up to you."

"I would like your opinion," she continued lightly. It took you a couple of seconds to reply.

"Sushi."

"Done. I'll be at your place in about an hour, okay?"

"Jessie..." You weren't even sure what you were protesting anymore. It just all felt unfamiliar.

"I'll see you soon, babe."

True to her word, Jessie showed up at your apartment an hour later, sushi in hand.

"Hi," she said with a warm smile as she stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. Even though your reciprocation was delayed and mild, she pulled back and still smiled at you sweetly.

"Thank you for having me over. I got you an extra order of those dragon rolls you like," she announced as she walked further in and set the bag down on your kitchen counter. She started retrieving plates from your cupboards. You stood passively behind, watching her move through your apartment leisurely.

"What can I grab you to drink?" She asked over her shoulder as she carried everything over to your table.

"I'm fine. I have some water," you told her, feeling like your voice was disappointingly meek. You refocused a moment later and straightened, taking a step towards your fridge. "What can I get you?"

"I've got it," she assured you lightly, holding up her hands, gesturing for you to relax. "I'll grab water. Take a seat. Dig in."

You slowly made your way over to the table. Your eyes remained fixed on her as you sat down. By the time she took her seat, you hadn't even retrieved your chopsticks off the table. She held your gaze and took a sip of her drink. She set the glass down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I was going to dig into things after dinner, but I get the sense it's heavy on your mind, so, if you're okay with it maybe we can just talk right now." It was more of a statement than a question, but she did leave the door open for you to object. When you didn't, she stood up slightly and shuffled over with her chair to sit right in front of you, your knees nearly touching.

"Is this okay?" She asked as she took your hands in hers. You gave a few faint nods and she offered you a small smile. "Okay. I guess I can start by clarifying – I didn't mean to sound curt or cold at all. I was in a rush and didn't think about how my words could come across via text. I'm glad you told me though, because now I know if there's something bigger going on I can approach things differently.

"If I don't have time to fully respond, would it be okay if I just tell you that I'm short on time but will answer you more later? And as part of that, tell you things are okay – I just want more time to give a full reply?"

Your posture straightened and you blinked as you processed her words. It just felt so strange.

"Y-yeah. That'd be totally fine." You shrugged before shutting your eyes and rethinking things. "But, that's silly. You don’t need to do that. I just should know and be able to not spiral." While you felt nervous and uncertain a few seconds ago, you now felt a wave of internal disappointment going through you. She brought you back to the moment by stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I can communicate more clearly and intentionally," she assured you gently. "And you don't have to 'just know' - you're not a mind reader." She paused, holding your gaze before visibly exhaling. "But that does make me wonder. Why do you feel like you have to be a mind reader?"

You could almost feel yourself shrink under the weight of her question. You averted your gaze and could feel your hands starting to get clammy.

"Hey," she said softly, urging you to look back at her as she lifted her hand and gently cupped your cheek. "It's okay. I don't want to push you, but, I feel like there's something more going on here, and...I care for you so much. I want to better understand. Better understand you, where you're coming from, and how I can be a better partner to you."

You don't know what happened. All of a sudden you felt your face screw up as tears started to form in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out strained. She shuffled in closer and cupped your face anew.

"Hey, hey. Don't apologize. It's okay to cry. Take your time. I'm here." She caressed your hand and though you couldn't hold her gaze for long, you felt her caring eyes upon you. "You can talk whenever you like – if you like."

A few stifled sobs snuck out of you and you rolled your eyes at your lack of composure. She waited patiently and laid a lingering kiss on your forehead. You took a few deep, steady breaths and began to speak.

"I-I don’t know where that came from," you explained, forcing a mild laugh. She didn't return your laugh and you grew serious once more. "I," you spoke and your words faded. You took another quick breath and set your shoulders back. "I'm just not used to being treated like that. Like you did just now. And," your gaze flicked away out of guilt, "I don't know what to do with it. And I have a very hard time trusting it."

Jessie pulled her hand away from your face to take your other hand again. "Okay. Um. Well, first off, I'm really sorry that you're not used to being treated that way. You deserve to be treated with respect and care." She exhaled quietly. "Can I ask how you're used to being treated?" She rushed to explain. "It's not really my business – and I don't want to open old wounds, but if I knew, it would help me ensure I don’t inadvertently make you feel that way again."

You sighed wearily, blinking back new tears. "Well, I guess they're clearly not old wounds since they flared up again so easily." You pulled your hands back and brought them up to your temples. "I'm so sorry. This is such garbage that you're having to deal with this. I thought I was better."

"Baby," she coaxed gently, placing her hands on your legs and leaning in slightly, hoping to catch your eye. "Please do not apologize. Your feelings are totally valid. And we all have our pasts, and we each have unique hurt and pain from our experiences. And some things are not easy to heal, and I think it's fair to say that in some cases, some things never do fully heal. But, I'm here to help you navigate anything you may be going through as best as possible. I'm here to care for you, not hinder you."

You dug your fingers into your face briefly before dropping them to your lap with a breath that was half sigh, half laugh. You looked at Jessie, taking in her soft brown eyes that searched yours with compassion and sincerity. How did she choose you?

"Oh my gosh." You sniffled. "No one's ever said anything like that to me. Certainly not my ex."

Quiet realization dawned on Jessie's face before she settled back in, remaining focused on you. She waited wordlessly for you to go on. You scratched the back of your head briefly, eyes trained on the floor before you forced yourself to look up at her.

"Remember how I said things with my ex were rocky at times? Well. That was putting it lightly, really." You took a breath. "She could be so affectionate and loving one moment – like I was the center of her universe, and then cold and cutting the next, like I was some burden she had the unfortunate task of dealing with. And she never meant what she actually said – I always had to read between the lines. She'd tell me things are fine, but," you laughed ruefully, "they were not. She'd be withholding, and curt, making passive aggressive remarks. But anytime I tried to address things or call her out, she would insist that it was just me and everything was fine.

"That is, until we'd inevitably have a blow out of some kind, and she'd make it very clear that it was always my fault. That I was being difficult and if she was being cold or mean, it was to protect herself and it was my fault for making her feel or act that way. "

Jessie let out a brief laugh of disbelief, looking at you in mild shock. "Are you serious? That's-" She caught herself mid-sentence, exhaling momentarily before continuing. "That's unacceptable. So she gaslit you and made you feel crazy."

"All the time."

Jessie sat back briefly, slapping a hand on her thigh as she shook her head. "Wow. That's so horrible." She leaned back in and grabbed your hands. "I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that. None of that sounds fair or right. That would've been so hard to navigate." You wiped at a stray tear and let out a short, bitter laugh.

"It wasn't fun. And as you can see, it's royally messed me up." Your lip trembled. "And now you're dealing with the fallout. It's not fair to you."

"Y/N." She said your name tenderly and gave you a reassuring smile. "There is no 'dealing' here – I...I really care for you. And I want you to know that you're safe. I want you to be open and honest with me anytime something bothers you or hurts you. I want to build you up and make sure you see yourself the way I see you."

"See?" You asked, giving her a look. "I’m having a hard time reconciling these two experiences. Realities."

Jessie sighed softly and nodded. "I can understand that. I can only imagine how hard it would be to be with someone who is supposed to care for you and have your best interests in mind, but they're unpredictable or inconsistent in their feelings and actions. It would be hard to adjust after being in a relationship where your partner shows up differently depending on the day. Or uses their affection as a weapon or a bartering tool." She sighed again and lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles before clasping your hand between hers. "I'm so sorry, babe. You didn't deserve any of that."

You shook out your shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Except I thought I did for so long. And – I don’t know – I'm scared, I guess. She treated me so well at the beginning. And then over time things changed. Sometimes it's hard to believe that I didn't cause it in some way."

Jessie gave you a frown of concern. "You didn't. I promise you that. Everyone is accountable for their own actions – you shouldn't take responsibility or blame for her behaviour. We can all get frustrated or upset with other people – it's inevitable, but that doesn't give someone the right to mistreat anyone else." She frowned further, her tone now lowering slightly. "And she's an adult – she should be able to express her wants or needs without playing mind games with you."

You looked at Jessie, your eyes glistening with tears. You shook your head.

"Why are you being so good to me?" You looked away, frowning as your own frustration bubbled up once more. "I'm not even mad about it these days. Because I can't change the past, and I learned a lot about myself, what I want, and what I won't put up with anymore. But the worst part is that despite how much work I've done and how far I've come – you're sitting here, being incredible, saying and doing everything I ever dreamed of and all I can think is how long is it going to last until you change." You went on adamantly. "I know you're not her. At all. But, I've been burned before by someone who claimed to care. And apparently I can't seem to get over it."

Rightfully or not, you expected Jessie to get frustrated with you or even insulted by what you said. Instead, she studied you quietly and eventually her expression softened even further and she gave you a faint smile.

"You're right. I'm not her. And I hope I never meet her, because it breaks my heart to know that she hurt you so deeply. I really hope you know, or will know, that someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did."

She took a small breath, readjusting her position in her chair and grabbing both of your hands again. She stared down at them and started to speak.

"There's been something that I've wanted to tell you, but I haven't known when the right time would be."

She looked to you with a soft smile.

"I know someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did – I know that for sure - because I love you." She let the declaration hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I love you. I have for a while now. Each day I wake up missing you if you're not next to me, and when I think of you I think of all the ways I want to love you – show you I love you. I want to make your life even better than it is today and do that for the rest of my life.

"Today, even with just the thought that I'd hurt you or upset you, I wanted to see what was wrong, what I did and how I could fix it so we can move forward together. I wanted to know how I could make you feel better. And then learning that you maybe didn't feel safe – I 100% wanted to reassure you that you should always feel safe and comfortable to feel your emotions and express yourself. I would never want you to have to edit yourself or hide.

"And I don't expect you to just 'get over' things. You are free to feel the way you feel, even if it means you can't fully trust that I'm being honest when I say these things. I hope you don't have to question these things forever, but I need you to know that I will always reassure you. And maybe even more importantly, that my actions will reflect my words."

She gave a light shrug and continued, her voice now playful. "And if you didn't notice, I'm a very patient and tenacious person, and it just so happens I'm very set on loving you for as long as you'll let me."

By the time Jessie finished speaking your lip was fully trembling and the tears were you fighting back were rolling down your cheeks. She was watching you calmly, waiting, and you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook with a couple of soft sobs as you absorbed everything she just said.

She rest her hands lightly on your legs and idly caressed your knee with her thumb while she waited.

"Please don't hide," she coaxed gently. "Take your time, but you don't need to hide." A few moments passed and she added with a chuckle. "And I'm hoping those are good tears."

You laughed through your tears and lowered your hands to give her a watery smile.

"Of course they are," you told her, your voice thick with emotion. She cracked a smirk, sitting there so relaxed. You smiled further. Even if it didn't seem like it in the moment, being around Jessie always had a way of calming you and making you feel grounded. You launched forward and pulled her into a tight hug, which she readily returned with a soft laugh. She turned her head towards you to kiss the side of your head.

"I love you, too," you whispered as you gave her a squeeze and she clutched you tighter. She pulled back enough to look at you and this time she had tears in her eyes as well.

"You mean it?" She asked with a crooked and hopeful grin. You gave her a little disbelieving frown as you laughed.

"Of course I do. Jessie, how could I not love you? You're everything I could ever want," you assured her. She leaned in and gave you a soft kiss.

"I just want you to know that even though I said it, it doesn't mean you need to. If you aren't quite there yet, that's completely okay. I'm not leaving until you tell me to."

You rolled your eyes in ongoing disbelief and gave a light shake of your head. "You can't be real." She scrunched up her face at you playfully and you leaned in, holding her face in your hands as you kissed her slow. "And for the record, I am very much in love with you."

When you pulled out of the kiss, Jessie was beaming.

"Then I'm a very lucky woman," she said decisively.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso #canwnt #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #portland thorns

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glassartpeasants · 10 months ago

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Alone

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: Reader has a drinking problem, Law being emotionally distant, mentions of past abusive relationships,

A/N: As you can all see I AM A LIAR >:) also I've ne er written for Law before so don't hang me if it's not perfect. Also not as long as my kid fics

@zuffer-weird-girl

(Phone acting up so if format is weird that's why)

~~~

The Polar Tang has never felt more cold than it does now. Even though you were deep into the freezing sea, the cold was nothing compared to the freeze you felt in your heart. Every passing second felt like an eternity as you suffered in silence. Watching the man you worked so hard to let you in pushed you away like you meant nothing.

You didn’t know what you’d done for him to act the way he was. One minute, he smiled whenever you entered his office with coffee; the next, he looked at you with disdain. Like you were a burden, it took a lot for you not to break down in tears every time he sent that look your way.

You couldn’t even avoid him if you wanted to. Being in a submarine miles underwater left you stuck with nowhere to go. Avoiding him was impossible, and the tension between the two of you was insane. Everyone inside the Polar Tang could feel it. It was thick enough to suffocate on, and you hated it. You didn’t want the crew to suffer or walk around eggshells just cause you're having relationship issues with your boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Captain? You didn’t know anymore. All he did was order you around instead of giving you a small good morning smile that you used to look forward to. Now, he barely acknowledges your presence and simply gives you a blank look.

You know that Law has his difficulties and trauma, so you never force him to do something he didn’t want to do. Let him take his time to trust and come to you. Everything you’ve done was to ensure that Law knew he was loved and could confine in you. Let him know he wasn’t alone and that you’d always be here for him.

Yet now, it feels like that wasn’t enough.

You only saw him when he addressed plans for the heart pirates or when he came to eat. Other than that, he was like a ghost that haunted the submarine. A rare sight to see him out of his office. A sight that you couldn’t take anymore.

Which brought you right outside his office door, your arm raised as you get ready to knock on the door, yet it stayed in its place. Biting your lip, you start to regret your decision to approach him, but the overwhelming pain in your heart gives you the slight boost you need.

KNOCK KNOCK

You slowly open the door, and you see him glaring at you. The sight alone had you shaking nervously.

“Law? Can we talk?” Walking out from behind the door, you breathe before closing it behind you.

“What?”

“I just…Did I do something to upset you? It feels like you're making an effort to avoid me. Please tell me if I did something wrong instead of avoiding me.” You can feel your voice shake as you confess your concerns.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“But you are! Whenever I try to talk to you, you look so uninterested in what I have to say, and you turn around to leave before I even finish talking! I can’t remember the last time you smiled at me. For the past three months, you’ve done nothing but ignore me and look at me with disdain!”

“(Y/N)-ya, can we do this later? I need to make plans for Sabaody.” You let out a shocked gasp hearing his words. That’s what he’s been saying whenever you ask him to do something together. Now he’s saying it when you need to have a mature conversation.

“Nuh-uh. You’ve been saying that for two weeks! Every time I want to be next to you, I get that same damn response! That’s not gonna work this time. We need to have an adult conversation. An important adult conversation."

“What do you want from me (Y/N)-ya? I’m the captain. It’s obvious I'm going to be busy.”

“Busy, yeah! But you shouldn’t be busy to the point you don’t even come to bed! I bet you’ve been so busy sleeping in here that you haven’t noticed that I’ve slept in the crew bunks for almost a whole month!” You saw Law’s body slightly tense upon hearing your words. His eyes widened before going back to normal.

“That’s your choice.” Now, it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. You can feel rage bubbling in your gut hearing his words. With a scowl, you throw your hands up in surrender.

“You know what? Fine. I’ve got more important things to do with my time instead. Since obviously I’m not important enough to have even a second of your time.” Turning around, you open the door before slamming it shut behind you. Tears slip down your cheeks as you stomp towards the kitchen to grab yourself a drink.

You’ve been drinking a lot more than you like to admit recently. It was hard not to when your struggling emotionally with your lover and mentally to get over your original drinking problem. It was horrible when you first joined the Heart Pirates, but slowly, they helped you start to overcome it.

There have always been alcohol problems in your family, and only did it hit you when you got into an abusive relationship before Law. Some people called you a ‘sad’ drunk type, so that could also be part of the problem. It made you only want to drink more. When the Heart Pirates took you in, you were fresh out of the relationship and suffering from alcoholism to the point you needed at least 3 alcoholic beverages every day. It's thanks to Law that your liver isn’t fucked.

It might as well be again with how much you started drinking again.

“Dare I ask how many so far?” Looking towards the door, you see Penguin entering the kitchen before sitting next to you at the table.

“Not enough.” You say before taking a big gulp. A small drop hits your uniform.

“Another problem with Captain, I assume?”

“Yeah, like always. Damn, bastard. Is there something I’m doing wrong?” Desperation slips from your lips as tears continue to stream down your cheeks.

“No! Of course not! I’m sure Captain has something planned for you guys! He’s just a difficult man to read, is all!” Penguin's loyalty to his Captain was admirable, but it's not what you want to hear during the time you wanted to punch said Captain in the face.

“I hope for my heart and liver's sake that you're right, Penguin.”

~~~

The next few days went by, and neither you nor Law spoke a word to one another. It broke your heart not speaking to him but you didn’t want to go crawling back to a man who didn’t care about your feelings. You’ve done plenty of that before joining the crew.

The hangover you were suffering from the hard-drinking the night before finally hitting you at full force. It felt like an ice pick stabbing into your head, and it only got worse as the crew got ready for the day.

Today was the day you’d be docking at Sabaody. Horrible time to get plastered the night before going to a busy place.

“Come on (Y/N)! We finally get to see the sun! It’s been so long!” Bepo shook your blanket-covered body. If it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t seen the sun in 2 weeks, and if it wasn’t, Bepo was the one shaking you, you probably would have slept late. But you could never say no to Bepo, and you did need some vitamin D before you got sick.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up. Give me a sec, and I’ll meet you at the sub opening.”

“Okay! See you then!” You could practically hear Bepo’s smile as the bear ran off. Taking a breath, you get ready to see the archipelago Law is so obsessed about.

~~~

“Everyone gather round here.” Once everyone was out of the Polar Tang, Law immediately laid out the plan. It was going good so far until he said where you’d be.

“(Y/N) you’ll be on watch while Me, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi-”

“Wait, why am I on watch?”

“Because I said so (Y/N). It’s easier that way.”

“Easier? Law you can’t just-”

“Captain. And my decision is final.” You simply look at the man in bewilderment. He never put you on watch.

If you weren’t going through a rough patch in your relationship with him, you’d just think it’d just cause he misplaced you. But now, with all the arguments and how Law’s been avoiding you, it’s like he just didn’t want you around. You could be looking too much into it, but with how Law talked about Sabaody, it sounded dangerous. If that were the case, wouldn’t he want you more around for more defense?

Not to mention how he ‘corrected’ you in front of the whole crew. You’ve called him Law in front of them before, and he didn’t say a thing. So why now?

“Okay, everyone, let's go.” The sound of the crew dispersing made your hands curl into fists. All you could do was stare at the ground as you heard everyone part ways. Law and his crew go to town while everyone makes their way back to the Polar Tang. There was no way in hell you were going back in that submarine after not seeing the sun in two weeks. If you wanted to crawl into a dark, cramped space, you’d just go to one of the many bars this place probably harbored.

In fact, you're gonna do just that. More than half the crew is on ‘watch.’ No one would notice you're gone. Just a few drinks, and you’ll be right back.

~~~

“Hey, Captain, why’d you put (Y/N) on watch? She’s never on watch.” The sound of Penguin’s voice breaks through Law’s thoughts.

“I have my reasons. She was unneeded, is all.” A complete lie that he hoped Penguin would just take without another word. In reality, he wanted you to stay safe. And in a place crawling with Marines, bounty hunters, and other pirates, the only safe space was the Polar Tang.

He knew you were strong and that you could handle yourself. But there was a fear that if he simply blinked for a single second, then you’d be gone. He loved you too much for that to be a reality.

Even though his actions beg to differ.

Whether intentional or not, he tends to push you away. He doesn’t want to get hurt and lose someone he loves once again, so it’s easier to be closed off. But the touch of your hands when you massage his tense shoulder or when you kiss his cheek when no one is looking is a token of ‘good luck.’ Times like this are where he wants to be close to you forever, but the fear of losing you becomes too strong so he pushes you away.

And he’s noticing that you're getting fed up with his hot/cold behavior.

When you told him that you hadn’t slept in your shared bed for about a month, Law could feel his heart stop. Has it really been a month since he’s slept in his own room? The thought ate him alive and his head raced with possible responses, and of course, he chose the worst one possible. He remembered seeing the hurt in your eyes and the faint tears that threatened to spill.

“Oh, Captain, look! I think there’s two other rookie pirates fighting!” Penguin snapped Law from his trance when he pointed to 2 pirates causing a ruckus. A small smile worked its way to Law’s lips at the sight.

“Well, let’s go watch, shall we?”

~~~

“Here you go, miss, another one for the pretty lady.” The bar you found yourself in was packed with all kinds of questionable people. All pirates and drunken commoners. There weren’t many women occupying the bar, so you stood out more than you would have liked. Not to mention how your uniform caught many eyes as well, your crew’s Jolly Roger plastered on it proudly. That and the many empty glasses of booze surrounding you.

“Thanks.” The bartender placed a huge jug of alcohol in front of you as you sat on the bar top. You can already tell that you’ve had more drinks than you originally were gonna get, but each passing minute that you thought about Law made you down another drink. It was easier to drink away your problems instead of working to fix said problem and it not working.

“Well, look what we have here. A lone heart pirate. Where's your Captain dolly?” Turning your eyes, your met with a trio of men standing next to you.

“None of your business. And don’t call me that.” What you could only assume is the leader started snickering before slamming his hand down next to you on the bar top.

“Your Captain and crew destroyed our ship, completely destroying our lives. But now that your here and alone, I think a small revenge message would be sent if you go back to your captain in pieces, right boys?” The two other men laugh, and you notice knives shining out of their pockets.

“I’m not drunk enough to deal with you. You want to go fight my Captain? Go for it. He’s on the island somewhere. Attacking me isn’t gonna do a damn thing.” Taking a hard swig of the alcohol of your glass, you’ve emptied it before you know it. You signal the bartender for another one, knowing that it isn’t gonna be near enough if you are dealing with even more annoyances.

“We know we stand no chance against the ‘Surgeon of Death’ woman. Which is what makes you the perfect message carrier for your Captain to know what happens when you mess with the Rubber Pirates!” You couldn’t help the laugh that escapes you upon hearing their names.

“Rubber Pirates? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard. So stupid that I don’t even remember destroying their ship. I say we did you a favor.” You down your next glass like a champ and, once again, motion for another one. The sound of the liquor-filled glass had you slightly lip your lips. Before you could take another sip, the man grabs yoru forearm and pulls you to your feet.

“Don’t you dare laugh bitch!”

“Oh, I’m laughing, alright.” The man gripped you tighter before pulling out a small blade.

“I’m gonna cut out your tongue!” Grabbing one of the many empty glasses on the counter, you bash it against the man's head at full force. The glass broke against his head, leading the man to fall to the floor like a doll.

“Who do you think you are?!” His two goons yell at you before charging at you with knives as well. Reaching behind your back, you grab another empty glass. One of the men swiped at you, and you once again quickly bash the glass against his skull. Knocking him to the floor and landing in the already shattered glass mess.

The last man almost got you, but you managed to hit his face with the next fresh glass of alcohol. The liquid splashed everywhere on his clothes and on the ground. The floor turned slippery as he fell on top of his incapacitated buddies. With an annoyed huff and noticing everyone staring at you, you talk to the spectators.

“Anybody else wants to bother me for no fucking reason?” The room was silent, which you took for a no.

“Good now go back to drinking and pretend this never happened.” You turn around to sit back down on the bar top. You grab some berri’s and give them to the bartender.

“Here’s for the broken glass. I’m still not drunk enough, so keep those drinks coming.” Getting in a bar fight was something you weren’t planning on doing. You just wanted some drinks and to go home.

“What shitty pirates they are if a single girl can take them out.” A gruff voice said next to you. Furrowing your brows, you snap your head towards the voice, only to be speechless.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes widen when you see the most wanted new-gen pirate sitting next to you. All the stories you’ve heard about him show their worth.

“What? Scared?” Quickly pulling yourself together, you answer.

“Maybe a little. It’s not everyday you see the infamous Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid sitting next to you.” A small chuckle leaves your lips, and it pulls one from his in return.

“What’s a heart pirate doing by herself drinking in a dingy bar?” You knew that he was bad news. That you shouldn’t talk to a rival Captain. Especially with someone as strong as Eustass Kid. But who’s gonna stop you? Plus, the effects of the alcohol you’ve been consuming have finally started to take its toll.

“Drinking away my frustrations and problems. What about you, Captain? What’s the infamous Captain Kid doing in such a bar?”

“Passing time till it’s time to head back to my ship and get into the New World.” Ah. The New World. A place where you’ve heard countless stories of beasts, crazy islands, and weather. Insanity that only the strong survive.

“Same for us, I'm sure. It’s a little nerve-racking. Hearing all the stories about it. But you only live once, right?”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m going to be King of the Pirates and obtain the One Piece! And I’ll kill anyone who stands in my way.”

“Sounds on brand. I’ll cheer for you. How's that?”

“What? No faith in your Captain?” Kidd’s laughter was slightly contagious as it made you laugh while drinking.

“My Captain gets my faith when he stops acting like a jackass.”

“You know, some would call that mutiny.”

“Some may call it a mutiny. I call it losing faith in a relationship.”

“Surgeon of Death ain’t a good boyfriend? Go figures.”

“That is what lead me to this dingy ass bar. Got into another fight with him and now I’m here. Can say I haven’t drank this much since my last relationship.” You take another big gulp of alcohol before sighing.

“I just don’t fucking understand. What’s the point of being together if all that bastard does is push me away! If he wants to break up with me, he should just be a man and do so! I’m a grown woman; I can handle it.” The feelings of anger and hurt soon started bubbling up, and before you knew it, you're spilling your problems to a man you don’t know.

“Doesn’t fucking help that when I want to, I can’t even escape him when we're stuck on a ship together! This is the first time in two weeks that I’ve actually been on land and seen the sky.” You grumbled while finishing your drink.

“Tell you what, Heart Pirate, how bout you come join me and my crew to check out the auction house. I’m feeling charitable, so I’ll take pity on your sorry ass to get your mind off your shithead Captain.” A small part of you told you it was a terrible idea. Going alone with a rival pirate group? Yet, the sound of just being near other people sounded too good to pass up. Even if the offer was worded horribly.

“Sounds like a deal I’m willing to take. Lead the way, Captain.”

~~~

“What’s the point in being here again? I’m confused.” Bepo’s hushed words to Shachi didn’t go unnoticed by Law but he decided to not comment. He originally just wanted to see what it was about but as time grew on, he couldn’t help but have his thought travel back to you.

Scenes of the two of you just doing mundane things played through his head, and had a small smile tugging at his lips. When the two of you would speak over some coffee or simply sitting in the same room was nice. It didn’t need to be a big thing. Just your company was enough for him.

Yet he pushed you away once again by making you stay back on the ship. Even if he wanted you safe, no place was 100% safe on Sabaody. Not with Marine headquarters being so close. And knowing that, had him fearing for you and the crew’s safety.

Just then, your laugh trickled into his eats as looked around the room, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Once seeing nothing, he realized it’s probably just his conscious making him feel guilty for leaving you behind. It wouldn’t be the first time your voice haunted his thoughts after he pushed you away. The guilt always kills him, but it’s easier to keep you at a distance. It wasn’t fair to you that he knew. One moment holding you close then the next pushing you away.

Suddenly, your laughter filled his ears once again. It sounded too real to be in his head this time. But why would you be here? A million places on the archipelago, and you managed to make it to the auction house? Not to mention you were supposed to be back on the Polar Tang. So when Law turned his head towards the entrance, his eyes went wide seeing you standing next to Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid giggling.

What the fuck were you doing next to him?

“I can’t believe how you didn’t get tetanus! Any other death-defying childhood stories, Kid?” The sound of you calling him by his name had Law gritting his teeth. Since when did you get so close to the red-headed brute?

Law watched you and Kid continue talking and laughing. His fists clutched tightly when he saw Kid pull you closer and put his hand on your hip. Red plagued Law’s vision when he saw Kid smirk at him when he noticed the doctor’s vicious staring. The final straw was when the man made a sexual innuendo towards you when you weren’t looking while looking at Law with mocking eyes.

Standing up, Law marches towards you with a threatening aura surrounding him. You didn’t have the chance to say anything before Law grabbed your wrists and pulled you through the entrance before stopping just before reaching the outside.

“(Y/N)-ya, what the fuck are you doing away from the sub? And what are you doing next to Eustass-ya?” Rage dripped from Law’s words, but you paid no mind to it.

“Captain! What are you doing here?” The overwhelming smell of booze finally hit his nose as he heard your slurred speech.

“Are you drunk right now?!” Your giggling told him everything he needed to know. How much you had was up in the air as he saw you stumbling and struggling to stay on your feet.

“Pfft, since when does that matter? I’m speaking, aren’t I?” Law grabbed your forearms and held you in place, his eyes staring directly into your own.

“Don’t you know how irresponsible your being?! Drinking in this dangerous place and not to mention with Eustass Kid!” Your giggles soon stopped as you stared at Law with a sharp glare.

“Oh, cut me the crap. Since when do you care? It’s not like I’m that important enough for you to care. Plus! I was just talking to the man, and he seems to be just fine to me!” Law could hear an almost silent tremble in your voice as you spoke to him.

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be reprimanding you!”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it. Cause I could have sworn you were only Captain to me. Funny how I can call the most infamous new gen pirate by his name, but I can’t call my own boyfriend by his name!” His conversation with you earlier popped back into his mind.

“I was…upset, alright?!” You threw Law’s hands off you as you stumble back, a small hiccup forming in the back of your throat.

“Oh, so you can take it out on me then? Sounds like a healthy relationship.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay?! Happy?”

“No! I’m not! I don’t know what you think gives you the right to police what I do when you’ve shown time and time again to give a shit less about me! I’ve talked to Kid more than I’ve talked to you all month, probably!” Law rubbed his eyes as he tried to talk you through your drunken state.

“I don’t want to hear anything more about that hot-headed idiot, alright! God, how many drinks have you had?” He could feel his blood freeze when he saw you using your fingers to count the amount of drinks you’ve consumed.

“So if I had four this morning…and seven not too long ago…-”

“You’ve had eleven drinks today?! It’s not even three pm! Are you trying to drink yourself to death?!”

“Maybe I am huh? Ever think about that?!” A cold quiet settled between the two of you as Law watched tears finally fall from your eyes as hiccups left your throat. He could feel his heart twist and turn with each tear that slipped down your cheeks.

“What’s the point in anything if I cause so much trouble that my own ‘boyfriend’ ignores me for something I don’t know I’ve done! What’s the point in getting help if I just fall back into addiction, only harder?! I’m tired of all the pitiful looks I get from the crew when I walk away in tears after a fight! Sick of getting looks when I enter the kitchen! I know I’ve got problems, but it's hard to solve them when the whole world fights against me!” The man stood quiet as he listened to you.

“I’m not that strong, alright?! I’m not strong enough to just shrug off your words and actions! I’m not you, okay?! I can’t get over my problems by dismissing it! I can’t solve my problems by myself, and that’s what I feel when I’m near you! I feel alone! I…” Your sobs soon echoed in the hallway as your uniform started catching your tears. Law could only stand still as he felt frozen, your confession ripping him to shreds.

“I’m not strong enough to be alone…”

“(Y/N)...I-”

“Don’t. I-I think it’s best if we go back to the way things were. Your my Captain, and I’m just the crewmate who can’t get her shit togther. I’ll met you back at the ship Captain.” Turning around to leave, Law finally moves to grab your hand before you could walk away.

“Your not alone! I’m here alright! Let’s get you some water to sober you up so we can talk rationally okay? You shouldn’t be alone right now okay?! Your not! I’m right here so let’s just-” Tugging your hand from Law’s grip, you look at him with hot tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Even with you ‘by my side’ I'll always be alone.”

#one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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american-horror-whore · 27 days ago

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𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw — none, pure fluffy drabble

a/n — i was thinking about this stage in a relationship with him and figured it’d be cute !!

”Hi, pretty girl,” Evan’s deep voice boomed, a smile evident in his tone as he shut the door softly to the apartment. He put his keys on the counter, seeing you in the living room.

After months of begging, months of “Evan, please!!” , months of showing him random photos of your friend’s babies on Instagram with pouty lips, months of dropping subtle hints, he’d finally given in. He’d knocked you up around Valentine’s Day as a ‘gift’, which meant the begging had worn him thin. He couldn’t have picked a better gift.

Your husband strolled over, sitting down next to you. His large hands pulled you taut against his body, your lower half pressed against his lap. He held you there, not gently but not tightly, as if you were going to disintegrate into thin air if he let go. as if he’d lose his wife, and now his unborn child. Evan ran his hand over the smooth skin of your baby bump. You two didn’t even know the gender, but either way, Evan was utterly obsessed with this child. Well, unborn child.

“How’s Bean?” Evan asked, using the same cute name he’d been referring to the bump as since the moment it started to form. You simply nod.

“Well enough,” You smile tiredly. Your pregnancy had been weighing on you, but you’d noticed Evan had been doing everything you asked of him.

“And how’s Mama?” He smirked, burying his face against your neck, the coarse-ish hairs of his beard against your neck sending small shivers out to your body.

“Oh, she’s fine,” You respond, feigning dismissal. Evan held your waist tightly, or now lack thereof, his fingers squeezing your sensitive skin ever so slightly. He felt like he was walking on eggshells when touching you, like you were made of porcelain or glass.

“Just fine?”

“Bean’s kickin’ her ass a bit,” You smirked, continuing to speak in the third person as you turned your head over your shoulder. Evan met your movement with a kiss, pressing his lips to yours as his tongue poked gently at your soft lips. He pulled back, pressing his lips to your ear and the back of your neck, soothing your stress.

“It’ll be worth it when we meet Bean, huh?” He smiled against your skin.

“Oh yeah,” You respond, your hands gently touching the bump. “Mommy and Daddy can’t wait for you, Bean..”

taglist — @fear-is-truth @dangeroustaintedflawed @newwavesylviaplath @coentinim @lacucarachapisser @evansonlylove @dearlizzies @oceanblvd111 @foreverviolets @emmasshitblog @jazz-berry @xrag-dollx @taintandviolent @colinzabelswife @marchsfreakshow @evanpeterspeter @whosbloom @redroses07 @lemoniiiiiii @partypoisxn @evanpetersbf @ultraviolamb @jdnymos

#evan peters #evan peters fandom #@ my mutuals #we needed a pregnancy fluff fic just saying #i hope you saw this as a civil service #he would be a great daddy #evan peters fluff #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters drabble #evan peters x y/n #evan thomas peters #evan peters x female reader

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wutheringcaterpillar · 4 months ago

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A Bump In The Night: Part 5- The End

Summary: With the baby growing, it is becoming to difficult to hide it anymore. Threats were made, Pol hardly even batting an eye at you still worried sick about Michael. Meanwhile Lizzie still has her intentions and is willing to make a bargain with the devil himself in order to ensure Tommy is hers, and James is yours as it should have always been. The only thing is, they don't realize Tommy is and will always be one step ahead and has plans of his own, he knows how to press people to tell the truth.

Warnings: Kidnapping, incest, pregnancy, mentions of arranged marriage, violence, assault, non consensual touching, guns

Taglist: taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia @haydenpookiebear @star017 @sweetcheesecakesblog @mamawiggers1980 @calam-arii

3 months prior

"Oh for godsake Thomas" Polly rushed through the kitchen like a bat out of hell in disbelief that thing could get any worse, anymore disturbing what in the fuck were you thinking! She slammed her hands down on the wooden table, spitting her venomous words with such vile and anger.

"She will marry James! Word will get out about the two of you fucking in that filth riddled forbidden bedroom! Enough people know already! You can't marry her! It isn't right and neither is that rotted fruit in the womb! Are you out of your god damn righteous mind because I will help the both of you find it!" You cowered in your seat shamefully, your feelings hurt while your heart was racing about ready to burst out of your chest. How could someone that you love say such hateful words about he r own kin? Yes it was wrong but the child bared no play in this family affair.

Tommy stood their clenching his jaw, an animalistic anger widening his blue eyes as he noticed your lip quivering. You hated conflict he needed to remind himself and Pol of that but she was too far gone to hear anything he had to say, there was only when option which was to level the playing field.

"She will not marry him! You want to know why Pol, eh? You want to know why?" Spit was flying from between his lips, anger rising and pumping and in his chest. He flicked his cigarette in Polly's tea, slamming a fist at one of the cabinets.

"She is pregnant with my child! Those boys, those Birmingham low life fucking scum don't give a fuck about her! But I do! I will not throw her or our child in harms way. So with the utmost, tumultuous disrespect go on and fuck yourself as far as your bastard of a son goes. You bring up one more word about my unborn child I will ensure Michael will never been seen or heard again, and I will blow all of us up in this fucking house and if you want to play me, you should know better than anyone, I will win." Polly went quiet, gulping back her fear and anger. What was she to do when she still had no clue of Michael's whereabouts or what Tommy may have told his men to do with him. What if he gave him away to someone as bargaining chip? The Shelby's had many many enemies over the years, the list going on and on to the point Pol didn't even know where to start.

Th dark turn of events made you nauseous, what will happen when this child is born? Will these problems still occur, are you going to have to walk on eggshells, constantly being terried that your own family would be out to get you? Maybe Pol was right, maybe it would be better just to get rid of it but the idea of aborting something, someone that was made from a powerful, endearing form of love hurt you immensely. You could just picture it now their baby bright blue eyes that looked just like Tommy's yearning to be loved and taken care of. Excusing yourself from the table Tommy raised his hands up in irritation with Pol about her insensitive comments toward you.

Fast forward to now...

Your bump was growing, you were becoming too big for your typical everyday clothes but Tommy has been such a lamb in giving you his, ensuring the maids were checking in with you when he was away for business. Today's business in particular was a cause for concern as he had a meeting with Lizzie. You weren't so much worried about Tommy as you were her making a move on him or trying to outsmart him to where you would marry James in just a few days.

Your hands cradled your tummy anxiously, nibbling on your nails while you paced the room waiting for him to return. Tommy knew how you were and insisted everything would be alright. A knock at the door startled you from your thoughts, probably Frances again seeing if you needed anything. She really lived up to Tommy's expectations in caring for you, not going more than thirty minutes of checking on you in fear of losing her job, which you couldn't blame her the family paid her very well, even insisting on free time for herself and occasionally allowing her to have dinner with everyone, she did make the meals after all.

Twisting the knob, the phone started to ring, your heart thudding in your chest thinking about how maybe it was Tommy calling to check in on you and give you an update on the situation, but before you could think any further, you were met with a wetted cloth pressed harshly against you nose and mouth, the last thing you saw being a blurry image of a man that looked familiar...

"Shhh, shh, it'll all be over soon sweetheart..."

Meanwhile Tommy tapped his foot anxiously, Lizzie sitting across from him with an unhappy face and her arms crossed. She had been getting nowhere with her plan. When you didn't or Frances hadn't answered the phone his eyebrows furrowed together as he rang again, and once more after. Still no response, something seemed dreadfully wrong.

"You're not trying to get a hold of that whore of a sister you have are you. Don't play stupid with me Tommy, the town talks and it's quite obvious she is baring with child isn't she? We know it's yours. I can assure you it's far too late though, she should be gone by now. This is the part where you thank for taking care of your problem." At her bold statement, reality set in that she was behind this or at least was involved. Tommy hung the phone up calmly, taking in a deep breath and raising his eyebrows with a narrowed look of threatening, crystal blue eyes.

In a hasty hurricane of emotions Tommy whipped his hand back, slapping Lizzie across the face, not once but twice cheek to cheek, knocking the wind out of her hair and disheveling her once perfect hair. She grasped at her jaw in shock before Tommy cusped her chin, forcing her to look into his dead sea eyes.

"Listen to me and listen closely. There has never been a connection to us. Now you can dream on in this fairytale word of yours but what happens between my family is none of your business. As far as I'm concerned you are just another whore on the street, opening your legs to any man who will give you what you won't work for yourself. If you think your life is hard now, then tell me where she is before I make it worse." Lizzie was blindsided by the intimidating man's harsh words. He had never snapped at her like that before but maybe that was what she needed for him to get his point across that this was not a game she wanted to play.

"Now, if you know something I suggest you tell me."

Sirens were the first thing you heard as you slowly came back to reality, vision blurry and hearing rendered. The fuzzy image was like looking at an etch a sketch a child drew, all you could make out was two men chatting across the room, one being tall and dressed in a white long sleeve shirt, the other one slightly shorter but the more submissive one by the way he was slouched over cowering.

When you released a low groan, it was clear you were being gagged by what felt like cloth, limbs tied to the chair you were sat in, along with your wrists nowhere for you to go. Your vision became clearer as you blinked rapidly, now able to make out who this man was. Tommy had tried to kill him long ago, he was a dangerous man.

Perching his eyebrow up with your sudden cognitive awareness, he picked up a shiny metal object approaching you like an animal did it's prey, yelling at the other man to get out.

Fucking Mosley...

"Good morning sweetheart, you look quite rough but that body-" His hand flicked at the buttons of your shift, revealing your cleavage, wasting no time ins grasping at the cushiony skin, causing you to wince and shake your head vigorously.

"Ravishing, aren't you?" You tried to scream through the makeshit gag, only making him chuckle darkly, green eyes shimmering in the dimlit room. Glancing behind him, the walls were coated with luxurious wallpaper and you could hear the sounds of music just outside the door, surely there were other people here, only intensifying your fear. Where the fuck was Tommy?

"Now let's see what else we are working with, hm?" He untied the sweat pants you were wearing, the bump now resting out as clear as day. Your breathing increased rapidly when he slid the blade down your stomach, tears flowing freely.

"If you wanted a child and not an abomination, I'd love to give you the pleasure Y/N.. but first this has to go." He pressed the blade into your skin sharply, shedding blood instantly. In a fight or flight response, you headbutted him with all the force you could. He dropped the blade, but perhaps that wasn't a smart move after all.

"Why you little bitch!" He sent a powerful blow across your face, knocking you out once more.

"Fucking Shelby's."

Walking into the pub, wind rustling his hair, there he found Arthur sat at the bar wasting away the same as any other day. When they locked eyes, Arthur huffed not having anything to say to Tommy as he demanded another glass of whiskey from the barmaid, taking a glance at her cleavage when she wasn't paying attention and smirking to himself.

"Everybody out! Family business." Well there went Arthur's fun, fucking Tommy always sucking it right out of the room.

Tossing his hat onto the bar, he sat on the stool throwing Arthur's glass over the bar onto the floor where it shattered.

"What the fuck Tommy, can't have one fucking drink, eh?"

"Y/N's missing. I have an idea of where she is, but we need to move fast eh?" As soon as Tommy mentioned that you were gone, he demanded information as to who took his baby sister.

"James and fucking Lizzie thought up a grand plan, only reason I got it out of her was because I know her fucking past, parts she didn't know I knew but that's besides the point. They've made contact with someone from our past Arthur, and I have a great idea of where she may be. She didn't give me a name but I didn't need one. My men saw James after our meeting going into a club 5 miles from here." Arthur sat their contemplating the right thing to do, you were his sister after all but that didn't mean he wasn't disgusted by the revelations he encountered that first night.

Still not speaking, he ignored Tommy simply huffing in disbelief that Tommy would come to him for help. Why should he? Incest was a crime, a disgusting relationship and he would not stand by it, he was disappointed in both of you. Taking the hint Tommy carried on.

"Arthur I don't ask much of you, I've never once judged you from your past, I've always been at your side now I need you to be here for me...You may not agree with the situation but I need not remind you she is our sister, she needs us. Who knows who the fuck has her or what they are doing with her. I need you brother." Arthur brushed his hand through his oily hair, down over his beard contemplating. Tommy had a point and fuck did he hate when he always did, however you were not the only Shelby missing.

"What about Michael? Hm? He's a Shelby too that only one of us in the room knows where he is. He's Pol's kid for fucks sake Tom. Where is he?" Tom shook his head, uninterested in relaying those details just yet, once you were back and he could see with his very own that you were unharmed and the baby was okay then he would spill.

"That information is not important now is it? Y/N is a sweet, innocent girl and she's always been there for everyone Arthur, can you say the same about Michael, 'cause I can't." He had a point there, Arthur remembering all the times Michael screwed him over and Pol expecting them to just forgive him because of the last name he shared. It was bullshit.

Tommy had plenty of dirt on his brother but he didn't operate like that, he was Arthur's weakspot and he knew that, he didn't have to use his past against him for him to give in and fall in line with his requests and orders. Nodding, Arthur slammed the rest of his drink, groaning and following Tommy out the door.

"You smell like shit." Tommy tried to make light of the situation, setting a subtle reminder that neither had to agree with the others decisions they just needed to be there for one another.

"Ah shut up Tom. Who's ass are we killing this time, hm?"

With Tommy being gone, Polly was making herself at home in his office, digging through the drawers of his desk, scattering papers across the room looking for any information that might help her find her son, but there was nothing. Now that you were missing, she'd be damned if she was going to lose her own kid, putting him first in a selfish way.

A knock at the door startled her, thinking it may be Tommy until the voice spoke.

"Relax Pol, it's just me." Oh thank god, it was just John.

He walked in with sympathetic eyes, hating see his aunt in such a desperate state of mind without a hint of a starting point to find Michael but he knew something and she could tell.

In a moment of silence, Pol pointed her cigarette accusingly at him, blowing smoke into the brisk air of the room.

"You never come in to Tommy's office unless he's here. What do you know, where is he?!" John put his hands up surrendering the idea of him indeed knowing something, but he wasn't here just for that.

Tommy clued him in on the plan, asking him to stay home and keep Pol subdued, and to inform her Michael would be home soon unharmed but only after you were safely secured in his arms once again.

"Michael is safe. He will be home later after Y/N is found alive and safe. He forced him to work in the states and keep business affairs civil to bring the company in money.

A wave of relief washed over her, but when she heard who they think had taken you a dreadful, terrified feeling rushed through her veins. She didn't think it would go this far, that James and Lizzie would be so spiteful, not that she was much better herself. But never this bad.

"Where's Arthur?" John scoffed with a surprised yet irritated look on his face.

"Don't you in the least bit care about y/n and Tommy? I know they are on your shit list but they're family Pol, they're blood. We've all made mistakes but if they are happy just let them fucking be happy."

Pol stood their contemplating on the right thing to say, she couldn't separate her love for the both of you from her views on this relationship.

Kicking the door in Tommy walked into the club with determined eyes, searching for his target while Arthur walked behind him smoking a cigarette, waiting for the younger Shelby's queue to start fucking people up.

"You see him Tom?" He shook his head, but was still scanning the room while keeping his composure. Heads turned toward the family with looks of disgust, some with fear as they knew very well who the brothers were.

After a few sharp turns and corners, Tommy motioned toward Arthur to light this god damn place on fire and kill anyone that got in his way as they were both carrying. The boy spotted Tommy out of the corner of his eye but Tommy was faster, shoving him against the wall and cocking his gun beneath his chin.

"Where the fuck is she? I knew you were no good from the fucking start. What can't pull a beautiful, innocent girl so you go and have her fucking killed eh? Sounds like an insecure little bitch to me. You didn't think I'd find you did you James?" He eyed the boy skeptically, his eyes beaming with anger, giving off a profound sense of dominance. He kneed him in the stomach, causing him to groan out in agony, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Tommy holding up, ignoring the chaos behind him his brother was causing, a table flipping in the air and hitting the wall besides James's head. A piece of wood flying of a broken leg and striking him in the eye.

"Take me to the fucking room." He dropped the boy, kicking him in is back to go on and crawl if he had to. He didn't care, he just needed you.

The room was in a far back, closed off area of the club, away from people that no one would have heard your screams.

Barging in the room Tommy threw James's bruised, and battered body on the floor, ignoring his whimpers, seeing red when he saw Mosley's lips against the warmth of your neck, his hand caressing your breast while blood flowed freely from your nose. The cut mark of the sharp knife glistening in the light beaming in through the dirty window.

"Ah well if it isn't Mr. Shelby. It's been quite some time no?" When Tommy pulled out his gun once more, Mosley was quick to yank your head back by your hair, pressing the blade roughly into your skin.

"Ah, ah. Temper, temper. I was simply doing what the young lad here couldn't. You should know by now you can't escape me." When Arthur screamed angrily and bolted forward, Mosley dug the knife in deeper, causing you to scream out in pain, making Tommy grab Arthur by the arm and yank him back. He didn't want to risk it, not yet.

He breathed in the sea breeze scent of your hair, continuing to pepper kissed to your temple, making you squirm in discomfort from the man's unwanted advances. Your eyes locked with Tommy to put a stop to this, to end this right here right now. Seeing you in such a pitiful, abused state angered him but also shattered his heart to think Pol couldn't be trusted to look after you.

"What do you want eh? The campaign is fucking over, she has nothing to do with this. This fight is between us, the men. Now why don't we handle this like proper gentlemen eh? Let the girl go." Mosley wasn't convinced, shaking his head no. That would be too easy. He expected adventure, excitement, he wanted to see his enemy crumble, to have no choice but to admit to defeat.

"And why would I do that hm? If I recall correctly you tried to kill me. You've lost my trust Mr. Shelby. Quite the disappointment you turned out to be, now here I am trying to rid your baby sister of this rotted fruit in the womb that belongs to you." Tommy was blindsided, no one had actual proof that there was any relation more than a sister and brother relationship. Lizzie didn't have solid proof, James hadn't either just speculation he was bluffing but Tommy couldn't risk egging him on instead standing there silently with his hands folded in front of him in a gentlemanly manner as he tried to keep his composure.

"Mr. Mosley, not quite sure where you are getting false information from. After all I think the only one that may have fucked his sister is you, you do like to keep it in the family if I recall correctly." Mosley stiffened his jaw, grabbing a tightening his fist in your hair before shoving your head down and smacking his gun down on your head merely knocking you out as blood trickled down your forehead.

He was moving away from you slightly, they just had to wait for the opportunity, even though Tommy's heart was thudding inside his chest rapidly in fear of what would happen if they didn't make a move soon. Just a few more steps away from you...

"The per-petulant know it all, walking into my fucking club. These are my grounds Mr. Shelby, what kind of host am I not offering you a drink first? Maria-" Before he could finish yelling for a woman, in a swift motion Tommy went to throw a punch and reach for his hat to scrape his skin off while Arthur rushed to your unconscious aide.

Mosley was faster though, head butting the younger Shelby as he fumbled to take his gun from his jacket. The weapon falling out and sliding across the floor.

As Arthur undid your bindings, he noticed his brother needed help. Unlike Tommy, Mosley wasn't messing with him at the moment, giving him an advantage.

Pulling his gun from the back of his trousers he aimed it at Mosley, who grasped his own gun in his hand now, holding Tommy in a head lock with his forearm wrapped around Tommy's neck.

"Put the gun down Arthur, or a bullet goes through her head." Tommy was losing air and attempted to scream for Arthur to take the fucking shot.

Simultaneously, Arthur screamed a "fuck you" Mosley's way, both guns going off in a poetic yet dreadful scene of the dangerous men at play.

Blood splattered across the wall, Mosley's grip on Tommy loosening, making him drop to the floor on his knees as he tried to catch his breath with weary, fuzzy eyes glancing up. The bullet Mosley shot had only just missed your head by a centimeter, his lifeless body flailing to the ground as Arthur managed to him with a killshot in the middle of his forehead.

"You alright Tommy, hm?" He waved him off, stumbling to get up and pull you out of the chair at this godforesaken place. Carrying you out in his arms while Arthur picked his gun up off the floor, taking Mosley's in the process.

"C'mon sweet girl, let's go home." Relief washed over Tommy like an immense wait had been lifted from his shoulders.

He gave Arthur the go ahead to call the man he put Michael with to allow him to be released from his duties, too zoned out and only focused on you, worried if the baby was alright.

Your dreary, restless head rested against Tommy' shoulder as he walked you inside, spotting Pol and Michael standing by the fire place. A look of pity washing over your aunt's face when she noticed the bruises on your face, the dried blood painted from your hair down your forehead. She hadn't wished this upon you, she never would, she hadn't realized just how serious this situation was or how perhaps James wasn't the man she thought he could be for you.

Now with the family reunited even with strained ties, the house settled, the fire crackling in the background, Tommy laying your cold body down on the sofa beside it to warm you up, tossing a wool throw blanket over you in the process.

Pol was the first one to speak.

"I-I'm so sorry I-I didn't know I-" Tommy cut her off abruptly with the raise of his hand not even batting an eye at Michael standing in the room, acting as if he wasn't present.

"No, no you didn't know. You didn't take the time to know. Frances has already informed me that you were too wasted to even hear someone breaking in the fucking house. She had to hide in a fucking closet Pol. Look at her now, tell me is this far enough for you, or do you want her dead along with our child?" This place was no longer a safe space for you, and Tommy refused to put you in harms way ever again, too worried to even risk it because it was clear he could not trust anyone in the family to even care about your safety just because of one unplanned pregnancy.

When the early morning light peered in through the window, the sounds of bird chirping in the harmonious summer day, you woke up head pounding from the painful blows Mosley striked you with. Tommy was layed beside you, caressing your cheek delicately and lovingly, glancing down at your weak state with sympathetic eyes.

"Good morning love. I set two tylenol on the table with a glass of water. We should get going soon, we don't have long until the others wake." With a puzzled look, you glanced around the room only to see your belongings no longer there. Only the dusty old furniture that was handed down through generations.

"W-what?"

"We're going away for awhile, at least until she is born." Your eyebrows propped up with excitement and surprise, how did he know the gender?

"That's right she. I had Frances contact the doctor. Now take your pills and let's get the hell out of hear because I won't risk your health and safety again nor hers." The tears started welling up in your eyes, insisting on taking the pills to go in the car. You were finally getting away, having the light at the end of the tunnel with Tommy by your side. He assisted you up, holding on to you with a protective, and caring hold to help you into the car.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the events from the previous night still washing over you, reminding you both as you stared back at the house you grew up in of why you were leaving.

"Well, wh-where are we going?"

"Far, far away from here my beautiful girl." He took your hand in his, digits scanning over you smooth skin before resting a kiss to your forehead, smiling like a fool in love that the day had come, he finally was going to have the ability to be happy, no arguments, no danger, just a family of his own with the girl he shouldn't have loved the way he did.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine

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inoreuct · 8 months ago

Note

more sanji drinking angst plis,,, 🙏🏼😁

y’know, it’s normal when zoro drinks. he has an iron liver and a sky-high tolerance. he get mildly tipsy with the amount of alcohol sufficient to kill a regular man.

when sanji drinks, though, it’s usually… not very good.

they’re in the galley, have been since dinner. zoro’s drowsy and full and slumped over the table with his chin in his hand as he watches sanji scrub at the dishes until they squeak, divested of his suit jacket and shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow, and the cook looks haggard. they’ve all been expecting it, really, what with Whole Cake being a fucking doozy— but sanji’s been holding it together perfectly. big smiles and neatly-pressed suits and coiffed hair and all.

zoro knows him well enough to know that he’s due to break at some point. still, tonight is the first time he’s seen sanji like this; like he’d just decided to say fuck it all and throw pretence to the wind. maybe it had been thanks to the emptiness of the galley, save the both of them. maybe sanji had considered it safe because zoro was in no place to judge.

but when sanji had picked up that bottle of rum, he hadn’t put it down until there was nothing left.

zoro had let him drink. the cook hadn’t even been smoking any more than usual— hadn’t had a single hair out of place, no sign of the pressure except the strain at the edges of his smile. everybody had been walking on eggshells for the past few days and sanji had just kept going like nothing was wrong, which zoro knows means quite a lot is wrong, because sanji’s a self-sacrificial bastard who wouldn’t be able to ask for help if his life depended on it.

didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt, though. he’s felt like he couldn’t breathe, the whole of last week; it doesn’t feel right seeing the cook with a bottle between his lips instead of a cigarette, liquor wetting the corners of his mouth instead of smoke. it makes part of zoro tighten into a dead knot. on one hand, it’s an unspoken show of trust— deliberately left alone so as to not draw attention to it, but one all the same. sanji would never let himself go in front of anyone else like this. maybe a few months earlier he’d think the cook just didn’t care enough for his opinion and get all offended, but now?

sanji knows he’s here. he’s never unaware of his surroundings, and especially now after… everything. he’s believing that zoro won’t judge him, and he won’t. he doesn’t. but enough is enough, and sanji’s grip on the edge of the plate is tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

it’s almost a relief in a really twisted way. zoro’s been hovering by the sidelines, sleeping with one eye open and waiting for sanji to crack just so he can catch all the pieces before the cook falls apart completely, and it seems like this is it.

his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. “alright, let’s get you to bed.”

“no.” sanji doesn’t stop scrubbing. he doesn’t even bother looking up. “why?”

zoro scoffs. “because you’re fucking drunk, cook. you’ve been washing that plate for five minutes.”

“well maybe it’s just not fucking clean, yeah?” sanji spits, quiet vitriol leadening his words even with his head bowed, and his breathing is jerky as zoro walks forward.

“oi.” it doesn’t come out harshly, exactly, but he needs sanji to know that he isn’t fucking around with this. “What the hell’s going on?”

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean you don’t—”

“i don’t know!”

zoro lurches back at the outburst as the cook whips around, seething within the span of a second, plate dropped carelessly into the water in the sink. he hears it thunk when it hits the bottom.

“i don’t know, alright?” sanji laughs, eyes wild. “nothing’s wrong. everything’s wrong. everything is fucking perfect and i feel like i’m fucking dying inside.” his voice cracks right before he takes a visible breath and turns sharply, dipping his hand under the water to grab the plate and sponge again.

zoro watches his shoulders tremble. every movement of his now is precise and carefully calculated; he’s moving like a fucking robot and zoro hates it. hates the way his spine looks rigid enough to snap with a touch. hates the way his face is a placid mask, still water with a storm roiling beneath. zoro doesn’t know how to approach this other than with barbed words and concern thinly veiled as confrontation. he doesn’t know what to do other than be here because it’s better than not being here at all.

sanji’s hands have been scrubbed pink and raw. “get out, mosshead.”

“no.”

the cook’s cuticles are peeling, his fingertips pruned. he never lets either of them get this bad. “i said get out—”

“and I said no.” zoro crosses his arms. he counts three seconds of silence before sanji snaps.

“god, for once could you fucking listen?!” the cook snarls, rounding on zoro like a cornered animal and waving his arms. “i don’t want to talk to you right now! i do not want you here! so please, fuck off and— put me down, you piece of shit!” sanji borderline screams, struggling and wiggling over zoro’s shoulder as he’s hauled up and marched out of the galley.

zoro winces as the toe of a steel-capped oxford jams into his ribs, digging in deeper as sanji grunts with the effort. he doesn’t know where he’s going but they end up outside the infirmary, and he shoulders the door open before depositing sanji on the bed without preamble. “stay,” he grunts, ignoring the noises of outrage and turning to go get water.

“you can’t tell me what to do,” sanji spits from behind him, cheeks red from more than just anger as he pushes himself unsteadily to his feet. he either doesn’t realise that he’s listing to the side or he doesn’t care.

“sit down or I’ll make you.”

the cook barks a laugh that snaps in the air like a neck in rope. “try! i fucking dare you, marimo, you—”

zoro tackles him down and he screeches like a trapped cat, trying to escape even as the swordsman pins his legs and shoves his shoulders down into the bunk. “you are drunk. stop it.”

“why?” sanji shouts in his face. the cook is straining against him, all wild eyes and bared teeth, shoulders jerking with a sardonic laugh. “don’t wanna fight anymore?”

“no. i don’t.” the air is suddenly too quiet, too heavy, with something zoro doesn’t know if he should name. he watches as the cook’s face falls and twists into something sullen as he tries one last time to jerk his way out of zoro’s hold. “not like this.”

their ship rocks gently as zoro slowly eases off, shifting his weight back and sitting on the edge of the mattress with a soundless, weary sigh. there’s still a stubborn set to sanji’s chin even as he lays there on his back, unmoving from where zoro put him— leave it to him to be contrary for the sake of being contrary. the swordsman takes a deep breath to suppress an eye roll and opens his mouth to say something—

“it hurts.”

zoro stills, turning so he can see sanji better. “what hurts, cook?”

“everything.”

the blond is staring at the ceiling, unblinking and unreadable. the fabric of his slacks is riding up and zoro swallows down the urge to curl a hand around his pale ankle for comfort. he tells himself he doesn’t know where the urge to soothe came from, but he knows, he knows— this melancholy is something that sanji buries so deep, none of them catch even a glimpse of it on a normal day. his face is a blank slate, his usual fire banked, and he looks so drained. an cracked shell of himself running on empty. “i don’t want to feel it. i don’t want to feel anything,” he continues, softly enough that zoro has to strain to hear, leaning in instinctively.

glossy blue eyes flick over. golden hair scrunches against the off-white sheets as sanji turns his face towards him and whispers, “doesn’t that make me exactly like them?”

no. zoro swallows, at the same time both too wet and too dry, feeling a little like he’s been gutted with a dull knife. he says a mental to hell with it and slowly shifts his hand to wrap his fingers around sanji’s ankle, just a gentle grip, his thumb resting beneath the notch of bone. he can hear the soft sounds of the waves outside as it melds with sanji’s breathing, as he opens his mouth and comes up dry for things to say. “…get some sleep, curls.”

“can’t.” sanji purses his lips, shrugging a shoulder as he looks away like it’s no big deal. “can’t sleep. not well, at least. not since…”

zoro feels his own heart thud against his ribs as his gaze slips over sanji’s face, the redness rimming his eyes and the dark circles beneath. “i’m sleeping with you tonight,” he decides.

the cook makes an aborted noise of indignation before apparently deciding that it isn’t worth the effort. “we can’t fit two people in a bed.”

zoro shrugs, unaffected in the face of the venomous look sanji shoots him. “we can try.”

sanji mutters something to the ceiling under his breath. the swordsman pretends not to hear it.

they end up crammed onto the infirmary bed, sanji squashed against the wall and zoro almost falling off. the blond wiggles around in discomfort for five minutes before sitting bolt upright with a hissed curse and undoing his dress shirt in a frenzy; zoro stifles a laugh as he balls it up and hurls it at the desk across the room before flopping back down with a loud huff.

the cook scrunches himself up, spine pressed against the wall and one knee pulled up between them to maintain the distance, pointed at zoro’s gut as a subtle threat. “i’m not gonna bite you, y’know,” zoro grumbles. here he is doing this out of goodwill and this is how he’s treated.

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” sanji snips in reply. “also, you stink.”

“no i don’t. i just showered.”

“irrelevant.”

“priss.”

“moron.”

“spoiled.”

“i have standards, you sentient piece of kelp.”

“you—” zoro grits out, before he stalls. somehow, throughout this whole exchange, they’d inched closer and closer together and now sanji’s shoulder is digging into his breastbone, his breath warm across zoro’s cheek even as a brush of his skin above the loose, low front of zoro’s shirt feels completely opposite. “why’re you so fuckin’ cold?” he mutters, briskly rubbing at sanji’s upper arms before the cook bats him away with a startled hiss.

“don’t—” he cuts off and huffs a harsh breath, sneering in the dark as he digs for the right word, “—coddle me.”

“why not?” zoro shoots back. the words are out of his mouth faster than he can process, but it’s too late to take them back. “give me one good reason and i’ll stop. just one.”

the quiet that falls into place after that is broken by the sound of sanji’s swallow and nothing else. it’s nearly pitch-black; they’d put out the lamp on the wall and the infirmary has no windows. if zoro strains his eye he can see sanji’s outline curled close to his own front, golden hair darkened to honey and arms wrapped around himself.

he recalls how it had felt to have fine bones beneath his hand. how the cook hadn’t kicked him off.

the hand he rests on sanji side is tentative. barely-there pressure, a ghost of a touch with enough space for sanji to back away. he settles his palm down more firmly after a few seconds, tracking his thumb up and down the bumps of sanji’s ribs, and he barely stops his breath from catching when the cook wiggles away from the wall and presses his spine into zoro’s hand.

sanji’s looking at him. he can see the occasional flutter of long lashes, feel the weight of the cook’s attention like sanji’s preparing to say something, but it never comes. a soft breath slips from his lips before zoro feels a hand curl around his waist, fingers curling into his shirt.

“sanji.”

the cook heaves a long-suffering sigh. it doesn’t hide how he’s affected by zoro using his real name; zoro can read him too well for that. knows him too well for that. “what.”

zoro readjusts, fingertips pressing into the small of sanji’s back to pull him closer, and wonder of wonders, the cook lets him. “you’re nothing like them.”

he pretends he doesn’t feel sanji’s arm tighten around him after a few seconds. he notices that his shirt’s damp right before he falls asleep, right where sanji has his face buried in his shoulder.

he doesn’t mention any of it.

the next morning is… interesting.

zoro had woken to an empty bed, with the sheets just barely warm and hazy recollections of a lithe body tucked to his side, a leg thrown over his and soft hair under his chin. he stretches and ambles down to the galley, scratching at his stomach beneath his shirt as he yawns, and right on cue— sanji’s disdainful little tongue click reaches his ears, and he smiles. everything’s back to normal, then.

there’s more of the usual; luffy getting yelled at to leave the eggs alone, i don’t care if you’re hungry, they are raw, and nami and robin being handed their special little tiny cups of coffee and tea respectively. the rest of the crew filters in, and zoro people-watches from his spot on the ratty corner couch before he eventually gets up and slides into his seat at the table.

but when sanji takes his spot beside him, it feels different. the cook’s made onigiri for breakfast, the plate set down just a little closer to zoro’s side than usual before he sits, and zoro pauses with his chopsticks in the air as an ankle bumps into his.

not roughly, or painfully, nowhere near, no. just a reminder. a small nudge that could say any possible number of things, but from the way sanji’s gaze meets his before darting away, he’d guess it’s the thank you that their cook always has so much trouble saying. it’s never a lack of gratitude— more of a refusal to acknowledge that he needed help in the first place, that he accepted it, but zoro will take what he can get.

the circles under sanji’s eyes aren’t quite so dark anymore.

zoro knocks back. he feels the rasp of his boot laces against the heel of sanji’s patent leather oxford, and neither of them pull away. the swordsman presses his lips together and takes a big bite to hide his smile, failing momentarily when sanji immediately starts berating his abysmal table manners, marimo, honestly, if you choke i will leave you to die, and yeah, sure. back to normal.

he catches sanji’s eye again, sky-cornflower-ocean blue, and he wonders what sanji could be seeing in his to make his face soften like that.

normal, and maybe a little something new.

(he isn’t quite sure what to do the following night. sanji’s already in his own bunk when he slips in for a quick few hours of shut-eye, but it isn’t long before he feels someone climbing in with him, and he just knows instinctively without even needing to open his eye. they’ve got limbs hanging out here and there but they fit reasonably well and zoro wakes with sanji’s sleep shirt tucked in his fist and his thin blanket pulled up around his shoulders.

it goes on like this night after night to the point where their crew knows, he thinks. even if zoro discounts the fact that most of them share a bunkroom, they’ve still got to know something’s up; sanji glows like sunlight reflecting off the ocean now, real smiles and laughs that have him tossing his head back and holding his stomach, eyes in sapphire half-moons. robin brings it up offhandedly one day and zoro hums that proper sleep’s doing their cook good— she gives him that look that she does, and he turns away with a smile that he hides in his arm.

the first time sanji finds him in the crow’s nest, he’s still asleep when zoro’s watch ends. the cook’s stretched out on the bench above as zoro sits on the floor, hand draped down against zoro’s collarbone, his face so peaceful that zoro can’t— fuck, he can’t wake him.

and it can’t be comfortable lying on his own arm like that; zoro sits down and carefully pushes him up until sanji’s leaning on his shoulder, that sharp nose tucked under his jaw, and drifts asleep.)

(he stirs awake before sanji’s gone. his eye flutters open to find the cook mid-yawn, working out a crick in his neck and bathed in early-morning light, warm and golden. the cook realises he’s watching and freezes, shoulders going tense and stiff—

he deflates a little when zoro blinks at him, sleep-warm and bleary. “gotta make breakfast, marimo,” he murmurs, reaching out after a moment’s hesitation.

the hand that cups zoro’s cheek is gently callused and somehow familiar. he turns into it like a flower to the sun and breathes in something that he never even realised he’d gotten used to, olive oil and shoe polish and orange blossom pomade. “i know,” he replies, pressing the words into sanji’s palm, and a thumb drags across his cheekbone.

“need anything before i go?” sanji asks, and they both know it’s half a joke. what could he possibly give zoro in here? a dumbbell sandwich?

that other half, though— it’s far too serious. a cold plunge of water through zoro’s muddled early-morning brain. he knows what he wants, but zoro also knows that patience is a virtue for a reason.

the cook already has a hard enough time letting people in. zoro doesn’t want to push. the hand against his cheek is enough for him, even if it is all sanji could ever want, and so he slips the blond a wry grin. “onigiri?”

“you— ugh, fine.” sanji huffs. “anything else?”

zoro frowns, growing increasingly convinced that this is some sort of trap. these are unprecedented levels of generosity. “…protein shake?”

it takes all of two seconds before sanji puts his face into his hands, taking a deep breath before zoro hears something about having to do everything myself, don’t i? the cook plants his hands on his hips, tapping his foot with one brow arched. “of all the people in the world,” he mutters through his teeth, advancing on zoro with enough of a menacing air that the swordsman leans back into the backrest, “of course it had to be you.”

“me what?” zoro says warily, eyeing sanji up and down, and opens his mouth to continue before a fist grips his collar and there’s a brush of contact at his temple— a kiss, he realises, before all the thoughts drain out of his fucking brain.)

(he’s still reeling when he stumbles his way to breakfast. still wide-eyed as he washes the plates, for once, without complaint. it’s when it’s just the two of them, when zoro twists around to ask a question that he hasn’t yet phrased, that arms lock around his waist and sanji’s forehead presses to his nape.

they’re quiet for a long, long while. “you remind me that i’m not like them, y’know,” sanji breathes, barely loud enough to be heard.

zoro turns in his hold, hands dripping all over the floor, fuck, the cook’ll make him clean that up later, he knows and he isn’t even mad about it. “what do you mean, curls?”

sanji leans into him, all sharp edges and bony joints softened by lean muscle and zoro’s fondness, fingers long and thin and laced together over zoro’s hip. “i’m pretty damn sure they’ve never felt like this.”)

(not much changes after that. franky does make them a bigger bunk to share, though, and they fight perhaps even more fiercely now; afternoons are spent toying with each other across the deck, pushing their limits, pushing each other higher until nami yells at them to stop making a racket. zoro doesn’t pretend that he can’t tell when sanji needs a little more contact, keeping him close when perfectly filed nails dig into his shirt. sanji takes care of them all like he always does, and he lets zoro take care of him— most of the time, at least. it’s still a toss-up on whether he’ll explode or break down whenever anyone tries to help him, but with zoro it’s either both in succession or neither.

sometimes he picks a fight and then cries afterwards. others, he concedes to being wrapped in a ratty old blanket and tucked into zoro’s chest where he can hide from the world.

he sleeps through every night now, though. he’s fiery and sharp-tongued and bright-eyed and when he’s had a bit too much to drink he just gets loud, fooling around with their captain and cackling with nami in a corner of the galley between conspiratorial whispers, but zoro can’t deny him anything even though he’s fairly sure they’re plotting his downfall.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.)

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANONNNN #will never get tired of angsting this babygirl. i’m sorry he just has so many Issues #BUT I ALWAYS GIVE THEM HAPPY ENDINGS ALRIGHT SO IT BALANCES OUTTTT #it’s almost 4am this time this is actually horrid #GOODNIGHT ZOSAN NATIONNN #zosan #one piece #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece sanji #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #sanji #zoro #ino writes #ino’s ask box

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