#WHY YOU ALWAYS DYIN

[steddieas-shegoes]

wayne's got him

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'wayne adopts steve' rated g wc: 680 cw: migraines tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff

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Steve's head was pulsing, a sharp pain shooting from his eyes to his neck, sitting at his jaw for minutes at a time.

He hadn't had a migraine this bad in a while, and definitely not since Eddie had started working. He didn't have anyone here to help, and Robin would be at work until the afternoon.

He slowly rolled over in bed, wincing as the pain got worse from the movement.

He couldn't contain the whimper he let out as he tried to settle again, his head hurting too much in every position to try to get comfortable.

"Steve? Y'alright?" Wayne's voice was probably a normal volume, but it felt like shards of glass in his ears, against his eyes.

Apparently, his responding whimper was enough to have Wayne opening the door and coming into the bedroom.

"You dyin'?" Wayne whispered, seemingly sensing that every noise was too much.

"No," Steve managed to say. "Migraine."

Wayne didn't respond at first and Steve couldn't keep his eyes open. What little light was coming through the window felt like the sun was shining two feet in front of him.

And then the light was gone, the room was nearly pitch black, and Wayne's footsteps were getting closer to the bed.

"Gonna get you some water and meds. Hungry?" He whispered.

Steve shook his head once, barely.

He may have passed out for a minute or two because the next thing he knows, he's being slowly lifted enough to take a sip from the glass that's being held against his lips.

"Just a few small sips, son. The meds are crushed up in it," Wayne whispered.

Steve did his best, dribbling some when he accidentally opened his mouth too far.

Wayne wiped his mouth and chin after with a towel hanging off the chair by the bed.

"Called Eddie to let him know, told him I got ya."

"'S okay."

"I got ya, I said. Lay back, I got the ice pack."

Steve did what he asked, sighing with relief when the ice pack was placed on his forehead.

"That better?" Wayne asked.

"Mhm."

"Leave it for ten minutes and then I'll switch it out with the hot water bottle."

Eddie must've told him that helps.

Their day wore on, Steve sleeping when he could find some relief, letting Wayne nurse him back to health when he couldn't.

By the time Eddie got home, Steve's head was in Wayne's lap while he slowly massaged his temple.

"Any better?" Eddie whispered.

"A bit," Steve replied softly. "He did the ice and heat."

"Of course he did. That's where I learned it from," Eddie smiled softly at him.

"You go get cleaned up and then take over," Wayne said to Eddie. "I got him."

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead before walking to the shower to wash off the day.

Steve closed his eyes again, trying to fend off the nausea of the smell of chemicals from the mechanic shop that always lingered on Eddie after a shift.

"Stinks, don't he?" Wayne asked quietly.

Steve smiled.

"A little. 'S okay."

"Smells hurt worse though, don't they?"

"Yeah."

"He's still got some learnin'. But I got ya both 'til he does."

Steve turned his head to look at Wayne.

"Why are you helping me? Weren't you tired after your shift?" Steve asked, realizing for the first time that Wayne had just gotten home from his night shift when he found Steve miserable that morning.

He'd been awake for more than 24 hours now, and didn't seem even remotely worried about himself.

"Cuz you're my boy. I love ya and if ya need me, I'm gonna be here."

Steve felt his eyes start to burn with incoming tears, his throat closing against a sob.

"But-"

"No buts. You got me same as Ed, and if I could, I'd adopt you too. Okay?"

"Okay."

By the time Eddie made it back into the bedroom, Steve was asleep, and Wayne's eyes were drooping closed.

Eddie didn't have the heart to make Wayne get up.

It'd be okay; He had Steve.

[justagalwhowrites]

Fucksgiving 2k24: Growing Family

You and Joel try to patch things up with your father while starting a family of your own. A Thanksgiving oneshot in the Stranger in a Bar universe.

^This is how I pictured this Joel as I was writing, with his lil tie on. Sorry not sorry.

Pairing: DBF!Joel x Female Reader (from Stranger in a Bar)

Length: 3.8k

CW: BREEDING KINK. Unprotected P in V for obvious reasons. Planning for pregnancy. Age gap (Joel is 20 years older, reader is 35 and Joel is 55.) Reader's dad is kind of a dick. No outbreak AU. Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel was reader's dad's bestie and he and reader are living together after dating years prior. No use of Y/N, minors DNI 18+ only.

A/N: Here's something to read while you navigate your own Thanksgiving dinner situations which are, hopefully, less awkward than this one. Happy Thanksgiving!!

“I mean it,” you said, clutching the casserole dish of mashed potatoes tightly to your stomach. “Best. Behavior.” 

“When am I ever not on my best behavior?” Joel asked, his hand on the small of your back possessively. 

You stopped in the middle of the drive on the mercifully long walk to your parents’ front door to stare at him, incredulous. 

“When are you?” You asked, brows raised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you behave yourself, not once, especially not where my dad is involved…” 

“Alright,” he chuckled good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.” 

“You’d better,” you said. “He’s just coming around to this, OK? I’d rather not blow it.” 

“I know, baby,” he said, kissing your temple. “I’ll be good. Promise.” 

“Thank you,” you said, continuing up to the front door.

“Your dad needs to behave too, though,” Joel said, sticking close to you. “Because I’m not gonna just let him say the same shit he always does, I don’t care.” 

“Please try,” you said, ringing the doorbell. “If you do, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

“Really?” He asked, his voice husky. “Dyin’ to know what you mean by that.” 

“I mean,” you said, keeping your voice low. “Given how much I want to fuck your brains out, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating and I can think of all kinds of ways you can try to knock me up - hey Mom!” 

“Hey, honey!” Your mom opened the door and pulled you in for a hug. You just caught Joel’s expression out of the corner of your eye, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.” 

“It’s good to see you, too,” you gave her a squeeze, carefully angling the casserole dish away from her before stepping back. “We come bearing potatoes.” 

“So you do!” She said, taking the dish before turning to your boyfriend and taking a deep breath. “Joel. Always good to see you.” 

You looked to Joel and saw him collect himself for half a second before smiling to your mom. 

“Good to see you, too,” he said. “Been a while.” 

“Yeah,” she smiled a little bigger and reached out to give his arm a squeeze. “It has.” 

You gave Joel an encouraging smile as the two of you followed your mother into a kitchen that was overflowing with dishes. 

“Can I help?” You asked, laughing a little as you looked around. 

“Oh…” she sighed, looking around before she laughed, too. “Yes, yes please. Your father has been utterly useless, just wandering around, muttering to himself. Not that he’s the most helpful in the kitchen but he’s not completely incompetent…”

“He’s good on the grill,” you said. “Kitchen… eh.” 

“Well, yes,” she giggled conspiratorially. “But I try to give him credit where it’s due. Usually I’m not on my own for a holiday but this year he’s been… something.” 

You just hummed in agreement and started in on the green beans because you were pretty sure you knew the reason why your dad was acting strange and that reason was currently asking your mom how she wanted the cucumber cut for the salad. 

Joel and your father had barely spoken in the six months since you’d moved back to Austin and gotten back together with Joel. 

Not that you were too surprised about that. He was, after all, one of your dad’s closest friends and was much closer to his age than your own. You hadn’t exactly expected the news of your relationship to go over well but it had been even worse than you’d anticipated. 

You’d arranged to talk to your parents in public when you decided to tell them. Neutral ground, as it were. Plus, you were pretty sure your father would be less likely to punch Joel in the face if you were in public. 

It ended up not making much of a difference. 

“You’re what!” Your father stood up so fast that his chair fell over, the sharp clatter of the wood on the tile restaurant floor and violence of his tone plunging the once bustling room into silence. 

“Dad,” you said gently. “It’s not a big deal…” 

“The hell it’s not!” He yelled, looking between the two of you. “When the fuck did this start, hm? When the hell did you start fucking my daughter!” 

“Why don’t you sit down and…” Joel began, but your dad didn’t let him finish. 

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he put his finger inches from Joel’s face. “She is a child!” 

“I’m 35!” You gaped at him. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous!” 

“You’re already in hot water,” he snapped at you. “So keep your damn mouth shut while…” 

“Don’t talk to her that way,” Joel said, standing up with too much force, his voice hot. “You got a problem with me, handle it with me, don’t take it out on her.” 

“Don’t you tell me how to treat my own fucking kid!” Your dad yelled. “I’ll handle her however I damn well please!” 

You weren’t sure who threw the first punch but it devolved quickly then, your mother pulling your father away while you dragged Joel back, both men bloody and panting for breath. 

You kept your distance from your father after that. You talked to your mom regularly - she was smart enough to give up on trying to talk you out of your relationship quickly and, eventually, was even happy for you - but your father took some time. 

After a while, he was willing to talk to you. Your mother must have given him strict rules - he didn’t try to talk you out of your relationship or question Joel’s integrity - but it was stiff and awkward. 

Thanksgiving had been your mom’s idea. Joel was hesitant but - after you conspired with Sarah (you and Joel’s daughter becoming fast friends once you moved past the awkwardness of your closeness in age) so she would stay in Dallas to go to have dinner with her boyfriend’s family - he’d agreed eventually. 

“If this don’t prove how much I love you, woman,” he’d grumbled as he tied his tie that morning. 

“You? Love me?” You asked, adjusting the knot under his chin. “News to me…” 

“Uh huh,” he smiled a little, just enough to make his cheek dimple. 

“Never said it,” you had to fight to hold your smirk back. “Definitely not 20 times while you were inside me last night…” 

“That don’t sound like me at all,” he teased back before going to kiss your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.” 

“Well, I do have a hot date.” 

“Really? When’s he showing up?” 

You glared at him and he laughed before giving you another kiss. 

“Let’s go before I lose my damn nerve,” he said. “Gonna be the most awkward Thanksgiving ever.” 

For a little while, there in the kitchen with just Joel and your mother, you almost forgot how awkward this was supposed to be. 

You and Joel moved around each other in tandem now. You’d been living together for months and you’d fallen into sync so fast it was almost strange when you stopped to think about it. When you’d moved in with your ex, it took what felt like a small eternity to really understand the flow of his life, to subconsciously recognize where he was going in the kitchen when you were cooking side by side, to remember to consider him when making decisions big and small. With Joel, it was almost instantaneous. There had been no odd fumbling around each other as you went through your lives under one roof, no putting one brand of peanut butter back to pick up the one you suddenly remembered he preferred, no confusion or frustration when you came home from the office to find him not back yet. It all clicked, like you’d been built to do this alongside each other all along. Even in the unfamiliar space of your parents’ kitchen, his hand found the small of your back as he moved behind you to get a serving bowl and you just knew which knife to pass him from the block beside you when he went to reach for it. 

Things shifted when your sister showed up about an hour and a half before dinner, her arrival finally coaxing your father out from wherever he’d been hiding since you and Joel had gotten there. 

“Hey Dad,” you smiled at him after he finished greeting your sister and he stood, hovering awkwardly in the kitchen. “Good to see you.” 

“Good to see you, too, princess,” he said pulling you in for a quick hug. 

He turned his attention to Joel then, looking him up and down like he would an adversary. 

“Joel,” he said, nodding once. 

“Hey man,” Joel said, holding his hand out. Your father’s jaw twitched but he shook Joel’s hand all the same. “Good to see you.” 

Your father just grunted before going to the fridge and getting out a beer. Joel followed him and you and your mother exchanged worried glances. 

“Think the Cowboys are gonna pull out a win this year?” Joel asked. 

Your dad held his beer for a moment, looking like he was considering just not responding but then seemed to think better of it. 

“We’ll see,” he said. “With their record, I’d settle for not getting our asses handed to us.” 

Things were easier after that. Your father and Joel disappeared to the living room and you heard the telltale sounds of football follow immediately after.

“I still can’t believe you’re fucking Dad’s weirdly hot friend!” Your sister said, just quiet enough that your mother was out of earshot. “Or that you were for years, forever ago! Seriously, there are rules about holding back to your sister like that.” 

“You don’t need to know everything I do, you know,” you said. 

“No but I need to know everyone you do,” she said. You snorted. “So… you think it’s going to last?” 

“Well, we’re trying for kids,” you said, putting the last of the shredded cheese on the mac and cheese. “So it’d better.” 

“What!” She yelped. 

“What?” Your mom ran over. “Everyone OK? Did you burn yourself?” 

“We’re good,” you smiled. “Just catching up. Sister shit, you know.” 

“Yeah,” your sister said. “Sister shit.” 

Your mother went back to the other side of the kitchen and your sister mouthed oh my God at you and you fought the urge to laugh. Your dad might hate your boyfriend but at least you could count on your sister to be your sister. 

Eventually, the rest of the family came over, too, and everyone settled around the overly full dining room table, Joel sitting beside you with a reassuring hand on your knee as he made small talk with one of your uncles. 

Dinner went surprisingly well, at least until everyone was a few glasses of wine deep and your father decided to pick a fight. 

“So, Joel,” he said, setting his wine glass down with a little too much force. “Not sure if I should thank you for getting my daughter to move back home or if I should blame you for her obsession with being a failed musician for a living.” 

“Dad!” Your sister gaped at him. “What the fuck!” 

“Language, please!” Your mother said. 

“Just seems to be real clear to me now,” he said. “Doubt she’d be so stuck on playing that damn guitar all the time if it weren’t for your bad influence.” 

“Bad influence?” You laughed. “Dad, I’m almost middle aged, I’m not some impressionable teenager. I love my work, I don’t consider myself to be a failure just because I do music therapy instead of being a rock star, I…” 

“You could have actually done something with yourself, you know,” he cut you off. “Instead, you decided to drive your life into the ground with this man and some bullshit career path…” 

“Watch it,” Joel said sharply. “Not gonna let you talk to her that way. You will treat her with respect or I will make you treat her with respect.” 

“Respect?” Your dad asked, his eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna sit there, in my house, at my table and lecture me about respect when you decided to take up with my daughter?” 

“Stop it!” You shoved your chair back, throwing your napkin on your gravy smeared plate. “Both of you! Dad, stop acting like your my keeper and that I don’t have any goddamn agency because you raised me! Joel, stop acting like I need you to defend my honor! Just… fucking stop it!” 

“Baby,” Joel said but you ignored him, stalking off to the guest room at the back of your parents’ house, needing some space from everyone. 

You let yourself cry for a minute, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at an old family photo of you with your parents and sister, back when you were just 10 years old. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach. You weren’t pregnant yet - at least, not that you knew - but you couldn’t imagine your child doing anything that would make you as mad at them as your father seemed to be at you loving Joel. 

There was a soft knock at the door and you wiped your eyes on the backs of your wrists. 

“Yeah?” 

“S’me,” Joel said quietly. “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffed. 

He came in, closing the door gently behind him before sitting next to you. 

“You OK?” He asked after a moment. 

“I will be,” you sniffed again. 

“I’m sorry baby,” he said, reaching out and cupping your face, his thumb tracing the arch of your cheekbone. “Know I promised to be on my best behavior but… Look, him being a dick to me is fine, I can handle that. I just can’t watch him say that shit to you. But that don’t mean I should get… aggressive and…” 

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “I’d do the same thing if I were you, I can’t really blame you for it. And I appreciate that you care about me…” 

“I love you,” he smiled a little. “More than just about anything else. But that means I need to take care of you in the way you want me to, not just the way I want to do it.” 

You smiled tightly before leaning in to kiss him. Joel kissed you back, gentle at first but, before long, something shifted, the kiss becoming hot and needy. 

“Baby,” Joel said, his voice low. “Should… should probably get back out there…” 

“They can wait,” you said, panting a little. “I want you.” 

He groaned, nipping at your lower lip but still hesitating. 

“Please, Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer to him. “I need you. Let’s make a baby.” 

“Fuck,” he said, his tone shifting, and then he was on you. His tongue plunged into your mouth as he lay you back on the bed. 

He didn’t bother taking your panties off, just tucking them to the side and tugging the low v-neck of your sweater down to expose your cleavage. 

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he groaned, cupping your sex with one hand and tugging your breasts free of your bra with the other. He mouthed at your nipple, licking and sucking over your breasts as he ground his palm against your clit, one thick finger slipping inside your seam to your already dripping entrance. “Don’t deserve you, baby.” 

“Yes you do,” you whispered. “You deserve the world.” 

He just moaned in response, kissing you again, one large hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple. 

It wasn’t long before he shoved his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and he jerked himself a few times with the hand that had become coated in your wetness. He notched himself at your entrance, his head thick and large and swollen, and pressed inside, a moment of resistance before your channel stretched over him and he buried himself within you. 

He pulled his lips from yours, his head falling to the bed over your shoulder as he panted for breath. 

“Goddamn you feel good,” he said, voice tight and hot in your ear. You rolled your hips up against him, making him moan. 

“Good,” you said. “Love making you feel good, sometimes that’s all I want to do.” 

“Fuck, you think your daddy hates me now,” he said. “If he knew what you do to me he’d shoot me.” 

He started to fuck into you then, keeping his chest pressed tight to yours while his cock worked you hard and fast inside, his head finding that soft and tender place within you that built your orgasm fast with every stroke. He ground his cock against you there, his hips on your clit, making every ounce of need inside yourself gather tight and low. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you panted. “I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, I…” 

“Good,” he growled. “Come for me, come while I get you pregnant, c’mon baby and come all over me.” 

You had to bury your face in his shoulder to keep quiet, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast, your center fluttering over his thick length as he held himself inside you. 

“Oh you like hearin’ that, huh?” He asked, breathless, starting to move again, already building your next orgasm as he did. “Like hearing how I’m gonna put a baby in my baby, that it?” 

“Yes,” you groaned, your second climax growing quickly. “Yes, please, please, please, please…” 

“You don’t gotta beg for it baby,” he said, pulling back from you enough to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “I’ll give you everything, as many babies as you want, fuck, gonna give you my baby right now, gonna make you pregnant, fuck!” 

He buried his face in your neck and pressed himself so deep inside you as he came, the heat of him spilling into you in thick, heavy pulses. 

“Fuck,” he said after he finished, kissing your neck before pulling back from you to kiss your lips, too. “Didn’t mean to come that quick, wanted to get you off one more time first.” 

“It’s OK,” you said, panting, even though it was kind of a lie. You’d been so close to coming again that you felt tight inside your skin, an energy rippling over you that you knew you wouldn’t be able to shake until you came again once you got home. 

“No, it’s not,” he said, sitting up and slowly, carefully pulling his softening cock from you. “Got you all worked up, not taking care of you the way you deserve if I don’t finish the job.” 

You felt some of his come slip out of you but he caught it with the tip of his cock, pressing it back inside before tucking himself away in his underwear and cupping your swollen, aching sex. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he said quietly. “Take care of you the rest of my life.” 

He worked your clit, slow and gentle circles at first before his touch grew firmer, drawing your orgasm back to the surface in the way that only Joel seemed to know how to do. You came to his touch, feeling his thick come inside you as you did, like your body was trying to pull him even deeper inside. 

“There you go,” he said, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Fuck, so pretty, every damn inch of you.” 

You panted for breath, relaxing down into the bed before suddenly remembering that your entire family was down the hall. 

“Fuck,” you sighed. “We should get back.” 

“We should,” Joel said, tugging your panties back in place and helping you cover your chest again before chuckling. “Think your daddy really might shoot me if he found us like this.” 

You laughed and sat up, looking at Joel for a moment. You trailed your fingers through his hair and he smiled a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges. 

“Really not sure why you think I’m worth all this trouble,” he said. “But I sure am thankful I have you.” 

You smiled back. 

“I’m thankful for you, too.” 

You kissed him and he helped make sure your hair and makeup didn’t look like you just got fucked within an inch of your life before you emerged, the party having moved to the living room, your mom and aunts on one side of the room, your dad and uncles on the other, an uncomfortable silence falling when the two of you walked in. 

“Joel,” your dad said, getting up and walking over with a sigh. “Look… not sure I’ll ever really be OK with this but… my daughter could do worse than a man seems to adore her and is willing to stand up for her.” 

“I do adore her,” Joel said. “I love her. I want to do everything I can for here as long as she’ll let me.” 

Your dad nodded slowly. 

“Think I can live with that,” he said. “But you hurt her? I will kill you.” 

Joel laughed a little. 

“I expect nothing less.” 

Joel and your dad seemed a little more like the friends they’d started out as after that, laughing and talking and watching football. When the two of you left for home, your father and mother walked you out, containers of leftovers in hand. 

“It was so good to see you both,” your mom smiled, giving you a squeeze. “We’ll have to do this again. Soon.” 

“We will,” you kissed her cheek before turning to your dad. “It’ll be nice.” 

“It will,” he said before looking to Joel and holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.” 

Joel smiled a little, taking his hand and shaking it. 

“Thanks for letting me in it.” 

You smiled the whole drive home, Joel’s hand on your knee. 

“So,” he said, looking at you conspiratorially as he pulled into the drive way. “Think the family will be even bigger next Thanksgiving?” 

“I sure hope so,” you smiled. “But I think we’ll have fun trying either way.” 

“Think we should try again now?” He asked, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Because, you know… if you’re ovulating, should probably do it again. Seems like the smart move.” 

You laughed, already adding pregnancy tests to your mental shopping list.

“Well we can’t start out our lives as parents doing the dumb thing,” you said and he laughed before the two of you went inside to try again to grow your family.

[peachsukii]

— disneybound!

✮ content. fun & fluffy fluff. soft bakugo. I was visiting family in Florida and wanted to spread some magic to my favorite. 💕

The flares of the Florida sun beat down on your exposed skin, humidity wrapping around your body like a blanket. The thin coat of sweat under your clothes wasn’t going to ruin your mood, but it definitely might ruin your boyfriend’s.

“Fuck, s’hot,” Bakugo grumbles, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat gathered on his forehead with the back of his free hand. “Knew you said it’d be a sticky heat, but goddamn. We haven’t even gotten in’ta the park yet and I’m dyin’.”

“Sorry babes, it’ll be better once we’re off the ferry,” you reassured, knowing that the trip across the water to the main entrance is always the hottest part of the trek. The ferry was packed with families donning various themed outfits - matching t-shirts, Disney princess costumes, and tons of little ones with Mickey and Minnie ears on their heads.

Bakugo leans over to you, snickering at a few kids running across the deck. “That kid’s gonna have the best sleep of his life tonight.”

A gentle smile settles on your lips as you watched the joy exude from the toddler, giggling up a storm with his mom.

“I can’t remember a time I had a sliver of that kinda energy,” you joke, lulling your head back as the wind swept through your ponytail. “Or a decent night’s sleep.”

“Ya had plenty of energy last night,” he laughs, smirking as you smack him on the arm while the ferry approaches the dock. Bakugo takes your hand when you stand to exit the boat, interlocking his fingers with your own. The greenery of the entrance flourishes under the sun’s rays, immediately catching your attention. You pull him to the side, standing in front of the landscape with the plaque that reads “Magic Kingdom” and the anniversary celebration signage. Before you can ask him to take a picture together, he’s already tugging you closer and taking out his phone from his pocket.

“Knew you were gonna ask, you and your sentimental ass,” Bakugo says, unlocking his fingers from your grasp in exchange for a spot on your waist.

“Scoot in close baby, I wanna get the flowers an’ shit.” He angles his phone to catch both of you with the flower display and the entry sign in the background, and to your surprise, he’s got the cheesiest smile on his face when he takes the shot.

“Go stand over there,” he demands, patting you on the small of your back when he lets go of your waist. You shoot him a confused stare, about to ask why before he cuts you off.

“I want a shot of my favorite princess. Stand over there an’ look pretty for me, peach.”

“Aww, Disney Magic already making you sappy?” You tease, sticking your tongue out him playfully to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. He huffs while signaling you to move into the perfect spot. Once he’s satisfied with the position, you pose sweetly without hesitation with your foot propped up and cute little peace sign. Bakugo’s heart leaps into his throat when he studies your beautiful face through his screen, instantly setting the photo as his lock screen.

Both of you make your way to the gates and scan your magic bands, the signature chime and green light letting the two of you proceed into Magic Kingdom. Strolling through the Main Street Square, you stop in your tracks at the sight of Cinderella’s Castle, taking in its majestic glow with starry eyes.

“Wow, what a beautiful fu-uh, freakin’, sight,” Bakugo says, trying to watch his language around all the kids roaming the town square. You can’t help but giggle at his instance to be “family friendly,” trying his damndest not to curse at his natural 110% volume level. Jokingly, you told him earlier at breakfast that Mickey Mouse would pop out of a bush and scold him for cursing too much if he got caught and he’d end up in Disney Jail.

“So, where to first?” You question, bouncing on your heels with excitement. “Wanna meet your actual favorite princess?”

“Fu-screw off,” he snorts, squeezing your hand in jest. “…maybe later.”

You start walking down Main Street, navigating the crowds to head to the little nook between the castle and Tomorrowland. Peaking around the line queue, you squeal with excitement when you see Merida posing with a family of five.

“Look, there she is!”

Bakugo wasn’t really sure why he was nervous, he knew it was an actress, but a familiar childlike sense of wonder had him wanting to kick his feet with enthusiasm over the thought of meeting his favorite Disney princess. Merida happens to glance toward the two of you as you pass by the line queue before the next family gets her attention, waving when she sees you smile at her. Bakugo doesn’t know what to do, a weird fluttering sensation in his stomach as he manages to give a small wave back.

“Don’t get too soft on me now,” you quip, elbowing him in the side. "I happen to like your grumpy ass."

He barks out a laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “M’not soft, princess. You’ll be askin’ for the opposite later.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, biting it playfully while you dramatically swat at him to cut it out.

The two of you meander through Magic Kingdom as the day goes on, jumping on rides, watching the parades, sharing snacks, and absorbing all the magic the park offered. You can’t remember a time where you’ve seen Bakugo smile for hours on end, enjoying your company and having a blast - even in the blistering heat! He went into a laughing fit watching you walk off of Space Mountain all wobbly the entire walk down the exit ramp from dizziness. And when he beat your score on the Buzz Lightyear ride, he insisted on buying the souvenir picture to prove his victory over you…and because he wants to hang it in the living room when you get home.

The day winds down, the sunset splayed across the horizon as the two of you settle into a spot in front of the castle, patiently waiting for the fireworks display to begin. The refreshing sensation of orange flavored dole whip hits your tongue, taking a few scoops before handing the cup back to Bakugo.

"Isn't this the life?" You ask, leaning back on your hands to stretch out your legs. "Can't believe I got you to wear matching Mickey ears."

"Y'didn't, you bought them when I said no," he retorts, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite of dole whip. "But I'm glad ya did, they're stupidly cute."

He sets the half-eaten cup on the sidewalk next to him, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "C'mere, before it gets too dark."

Bakugo tugs you closer, leaning against you as he hands you his phone to take a picture. When you're about to push the shutter button, he surprises you by planting a sweet peck on your cheek, a gleeful smile crossing your lips. When you look back at it, you can't help but think this is real - your boyfriend, the Katsuki Bakugo, one of Japan's top ten heroes, is here with you in Disney World, happy as can be, wearing matching Mickey ears and taking silly selfies with you.

"I'm starting to think you're the sentimental one."

"Can't a guy show off his girl?"

His girl.

"Color me shocked you wanted to be seen in those," you point to the Mickey ears atop his hat.

"Peach, y'know I'd do anything for ya at this point. I like bein' all cute and shit with you, and only you."

And you know what? That was a good enough answer. Bakugo flashes you a toothy grin before putting his phone back in his pocket, scooching closer so your hips are touching and offering you the last of the dole whip. The fireworks start a few moments later, the two of you lost in the beautiful explosive lights for the entire show.

Later that night, when you finally trudged back to the hotel, you have a notification of a new tagged photo that catches your attention - from Dynamight001. The caption of the photo set is short and sweet, thousands of likes and comments already flooding the post as he uploaded it on his main hero account.

"home's anywhere you are.🧡"

You're swiping through the photos, and there's one you didn't know he took at the very end. It's of you while watching the fireworks, the reflects of color sparkling in your eyes with a smile on your face.

Your heart beats against your ribs, overflowing with love for him as he waltzes out of the bathroom in his sweats. He sees the look on your face and chuckles, tackling you to the bedsheets and peppers your neck with kisses.

"Get off your phone already and in'ta bed, baby. We've got another long day tomorrow."

You hum in acknowledgement, tossing your phone onto the nightstand and sinking under the comforter to snuggle up into his chest - just the way he loves.

And you can't help but think to yourself, he's right.

Home's anywhere you are.

Disney bound!; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq @liluvtojineteyam

[darlingdaisyfarm]

It’s a hot summer day and you’re not prepared for what you find when you step outside the Shack.

suggestive, fem reader

The Mystery Shack feels like it’s punishing you for even existing today. . . every room drenched in a warmth so oppressive it makes your skin stick to itself. The fans are useless in this oven.

You’re irritable, sweaty, and worst of all, alone. The usual bickering, the faint sound of tools or Stan’s TV rambling on in the background, none of it’s here. The Shack feels wrong without them.  

“Stan? Ford?”

You’d checked everywhere, no Ford hunched over in his lab, no Stan napping on his recliner. You’re about to give up, maybe lay down and suffer quietly, when you catch that— clang, clang, the unmistakable sound of metal on metal, and muffled.

Curious, you step outside, and the second you do the sun hits like a slap. Bright, blinding, merciless. You shield your eyes with one hand, squinting through the glare, and. . . oh. Here they are.

Stan and Ford. Both of them. Shirtless. Bent over the Stanmobile. Sweaty, dirty, all covered in oil. 

Stan’s at the front, hunched over the engine, his belly jiggles slightly as he leans in, his broad shoulders gleaming in the sunlight, muscles shifting and flexing as he tightens something with a wrench. Sweat rolls down his hairy chest. 

Ford stands off to the side, frowning at a toolbox, his scarred six-fingered hands carefully sorting through its contents. His frame is a bit leaner, but just as distracting. Scars crisscross his torso, telling stories you’d kill to hear. There’s a smear of oil across his chest, and when he finally looks up, letting out a tired sigh from heat, the sweat trailing down his neck to his collarbone you forget how to fucking breathe.

And now you’re just standing there. Staring. No, ogling.

Stan’s the first to notice, of course. He’s always the first to notice.  

“Well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with their presence,” he calls as he straightens up, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. “ya just gonna stand there and watch, sweetheart? or ya wanna lend a hand?”

You choke, physically choke, because he’s grinning now and fuck, that look should be illegal.

Ford glances over, his brow furrowed in mild concern when he notices you. “Are you all right? You shouldn’t be standing out here in this heat, it’s dangerous without proper hydration.”

Stan rolls his eyes, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Oh, give it a rest, Sixer. She’s fine. Though, if you are feelin’ faint, sweetheart, I’d be happy to catch ya. Or hold ya. Or. . . well, I can think of a few other ways to keep you steady.”

Your stomach flips, legs feel like jelly. Stan’s eyes are raking over you, not subtle in the slightest, and. . . Ford gaze lingers, too.

“Prolonged exposure to the sun can lead to heatstroke and—”

“Would you quit it with the lecture, genius?” 

You don’t answer. You can’t, you just let them both argue. It’s actually good they do, at least they won’t notice how pathetic you look right now as you drink them in, every bead of sweat, every flex and shift of muscle. All you can think about is what it’d feel like to touch them, to let your fingers trace the scars on Ford’s chest, to feel the heat radiating from Stan’s skin.

You imagine Stan leaning against the car, beckoning you closer with that cocky grin. “C’mere, sweetheart, why don’t you put those pretty little hands to good use?”  

Ford would step behind you, letting his hands slide over your shoulders, down your arms, breathing in your ear. “Relax, darling, we’ll just make you feel good.” as he plants tender kisses on your neck.

Stan’s fingers trailing down the curve of your waist as you lock your eyes with him, while Ford pays attention to your skin, kissing every inch of it. “you’re just dyin’ to feel us, huh? that pretty pussy of yours must be drippin.”

Then Ford’s hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze, the silent act of possession, jealousy. “Look at me,” which would sound like a fucking command. “Don’t look away. I need you to see everything we're going to do to you.”  

Your thighs press together, but it’s no use. You’re fucked.

“Earth to dollface!” Stan’s voice pulls you back, and you realise he’s stepped closer, his grin widening as he catches the glazed look in your eyes. “what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ naughty?”

“Stanley, enough.”

“Nah, you can’t tell me you don’t see it. She’s practically beggin’ us to bend her over right here.” 

Your mouth opens to protest, but nothing comes out because Stan is right, always fucking right, god, Ford, why cant you understand.

Ford finally steps in, landing his hand on Stan’s shoulder as he pulls him back slightly. “Stop that, it’s ignorant,” he says to his brother, but when he looks at you, his expression and tone changes into something warmer, caring. “You should sit down. Let us get you some water.”

“Oh, don’t act so high and mighty, poindexter, when yourself been starin’ at her like she’s dessert. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You want to die. Or melt into the ground. Or god maybe let them both actually ruin you, because. . . the way they’re looking at you right now? 

[grimmweepers]

𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘: OCT 31ST

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bonten!sanzu x fem!reader | 𝐜𝐰: gunplay, gun kink, under the influence (alcohol), dubcon, semi-public, night club setting, dark jokes, reader wears a dress, light spanking (slaps your ass once), established relationship, calls you 'baby' & 'little girl', groping if you squint (from sanzu), erm something inanimate goes in your hole, can you guess what? :o) 1.8k wc, 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

AND ONE LAST TIME, READ THE WARNINGS!

The smell of cigar smoke and expensive cologne infested the room. How it traveled from the main part of the club to this secluded space was beyond you, but you couldn’t think too much about it. A heavy bass vibrated the mirrored walls, making it seem like everything around you pulsed with life, and the hum of music was still audible—but it was distant enough to reassure you there would be absolutely no lurkers nearby.

You sat on your boyfriend’s lap, legs spread wide over his suited thighs while the leather couch squeaked shyly underneath you. Smitten with stealing you away from the crowd, Sanzu’s hands rested firmly on your hips to keep you in place, but the real control was in his pistol. It glinted under the little light that the room provided and his eyes watched you intently as he traced the barrel along your throat, the cold metal biting into your skin. 

You felt the coercion behind it, inviting you like an innocent dare when in actuality it was downright rotten, and he licked his lips as he gave you a moment to reconsider.

In Bonten, it was always Sanzu who pulled the trigger so this wasn’t his first time at the rodeo—but having you at the receiving end was.

When he initially removed it from his pocket, you decided on a whim that you would act on your little fantasy, snatching the gun from his grasp and gifting it a playful kiss. But what you should have known was that everything you did, he could take even further.

“You’re not scared, are ya?” His smirk deepened when he pressed the barrel harder into your skin. “It’s loaded.”

“I’m not,” but you should have been. You blamed all the shots you threw back, the bitter taste of alcohol still melted into the buds of your tongue and it left your body burning for him instead of being afraid of the weapon in front of you. 

The corner of his scarred mouth quirked into a dark smile as he leaned closer, “Good.” He shifted the gun lower, dragging the barrel down your throat, between your breasts, until it rested against your lower abdomen. “Don’t want you dyin' in a shit mood if I accidentally fuck up…” he dramatically mimicked a small explosion with his hand, and poof was the sound he added right after so you knew he meant blowing out your guts.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he slid his hand up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress higher. 

“Damn,” his fingers dipped between your legs, finding your panties already damp with arousal, “Why didn't you tell me you were into this sooner?”

You squirmed in his lap and felt his growing tent poking at you from underneath. “Just had to make sure you weren’t psychotic enough to shoot,” you shrugged.

“Yeah I got somethin’ to shoot in ya and it ain’t these bullets, babe,” he cackled but you dropped your weight on his lap even more to remind him he wasn’t going to “shoot” anything at all if he kept this up.

Sanzu resisted the urge to close his eyes at the feeling of your warmth pressed on his crotch. Flushed, soft and only a thin layer away from your pussy. It was too early for him to do some shit like rut into you because if it wasn't obvious to you already, it was he who had been thinking with his dick since the beginning of the night.

When his boys weren’t looking, he was all over you, pulling you to dark corners any chance he got just to grope you while he shoved his alcohol-laced tongue down your throat. As your own liquid courage came to fruition, you both ended up in this private room—and every pretty penny it cost him was entirely worth it.

Finally, Sanzu trailed the barrel lower and lower, brushing it over your panties and tickling your clit in a way that made your breath hitch. Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn’t help but roll your hips towards it. With his eyes still locked on you, he watched closely for every reaction, finding satisfaction in every little twitch of pleasure as he dragged the gun back and forth across your clothed pussy.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he purred. 

You couldn't stop a defeated moan from slipping past your lips, “Yeah… I do.” Your voice was trembling, hardly above a whisper and there was no denying that you were getting wetter by the minute.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy,” he hissed, each word dripping with amusement. Sanzu shifted again, this time sliding the barrel underneath your panties, pressing it directly against your aching core.

“Oh—” was all you could say as your body jerked towards the blissful pressure. The contrast of its icy touch rubbing against your heat had you shuddering.

Your reaction made him involuntarily buck into you, clearly even more turned on by how desperate you were. So he guided the gun down your slit, the barrel grazing your entrance with slow strokes that left your stomach fluttering with anticipation. Sanzu was now rock hard, precum threatening to seep through his slacks as he watched you try to get off on his weapon.

“Dirty, little girl,” you heard the mockery in his voice and felt his free hand fall on your waist, controlling your movements as you rubbed yourself against the cool metal.

“Please…” You whimpered as your body went taut.

Sanzu chuckled, pressing the barrel harder against your entrance, slipping just the tip of it inside you. You cried out his name at the foreign sensation, “More, more, more…!” while you locked his thighs between your legs.

It was nothing compared to the girth of his cock but better that than nothing, right?

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, brain almost short-circuiting at how lewd you were, “You want this gun in your pussy?”

Nodding, you carefully rocked your hips towards him and that was all he needed to start thrusting it. Slowly, like he was testing the waters.

You bit your bottom lip as it stretched you out, “Mhm! Feels… so fucking good—” which earned you an encouraging, “Uh huh? Is that right?” from your boyfriend. With the music blaring in the background, you both weren’t afraid to be loud so you didn't suppress the moans and mewls that slipped in tandem each time he urged you on.

But the thing with alcohol was that everything felt ten times better, ten times delicious, ten times tantalising, so you didn’t have the patience to take it slow—you were desperate to feel it pumping inside you even though it made you tremble on top of him.

You picked up your pace like you needed that thing and when you placed your hand on his shoulders to balance yourself, the look he flashed you was nothing shy of crazy—teeth glistening under the low light and jaw slacking as if seeing you like this was better than any drug he’d ever taken.

He allowed himself to look down to see where the pistol and your pussy connected, again and again, faster and harder, and—

“Fuckkkkk,” was all he could quietly say as another bead of precum stained the inside of his briefs.

“Come on, baby,” his hand snaked to your ass, giving it a hard spank as you chased your release. He couldn’t get enough of seeing you so feral, “Cum for me. Cum on it.”

If you weren’t so dumbstruck from his gun, you would have felt his cock twitching with you, wishing it was him you were bouncing on instead. He growled, “Fuck it, baby. Fuck it like it’s me.”

The combination of his words, his voice, his hands, and getting taken by a literal gun, had you whining uncontrollably. Each time you slid against the cold steel, it rattled and touched your sweet spot. You were dangerously close—and the worst part of it was that it wasn’t the threat of getting shot that you were close to, but the fact that you were close to cumming all over that very weapon.

You writhed above him, and he could've busted in his pants just from the friction of you. You didn't want to stop. Actually, you couldn't stop. Each time you rocked your hips, it took a breath out of you—out of him. And inevitably your orgasm tore through you as if it were the first time you felt an orgasm at all.

“Ah fuck!!!!" The coil in you finally snapped. "I’m— cummi—” You gasped and clung to him while it consumed you.

Your body convulsed as the rest of your panties became fully soaked with your essence and Sanzu moved his gun faster just to draw out the last of your shockwaves. Your walls clenched and squeezed until you went limp against him—pleasure quickly replaced with sensitivity.

Soon, Sanzu pulled the gun from between your legs, and with a wicked smirk on his face, he held it between you, showing the barrel slick with your juices like it was some prize.

At first, you were too dazed and out of breath to notice what he was trying to do, but his mouth parted slightly when you did.

“Kiss it,” he muttered, giving the weapon a subtle shake in his hand. Never the type to let you off the hook so easily, he brought it close to your lips and waited.

Yet, with a gleam in your eye that matched his own, you slowly leaned in and brushed your lips against the metal. The taste of your own cunt sent another rush through you, and you heard his sharp intake of breath at the sight.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re so damn sexy,” he said as you tipped the pistol into your mouth, softly moaning and sucking on the barrel as if it were an extension of him. Biting his lips, he groaned at your filthy little act and judging from that signature unhinged grin he was giving you, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back any longer. 

When Sanzu pulled the gun from your mouth, he fought tooth and nail not to tear the dress off of you, after all, you had to wear something on the way home. So he tossed his weapon to the side, wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, and crashed his lips onto yours like a starved animal. 

He started to fiddle with his belt buckle while he muffled grunts and curses into your mouth, the bulge under his trousers painfully prominent. Something stirred within him and you could feel his breathing intensifying as you kissed back with equal fervor.

Between gasps of air, it almost sounded like he was begging when he impatiently unzipped his pants and said, “Ride me.”

“After all that, you can’t even say it nicely?” You returned that smirk he’d been wearing all night.

“Please, baby.”

As you lifted the hem of your dress to your waist, a secret smile formed the corner of your mouth. You missed the feeling of something actually stretching you out, so after seeing your boyfriend free his throbbing cock from its restraints, the way it glistened with precum and twitched excitedly—you knew the fun was only just beginning. 

a/n: made it through my first kinktober! if you’ve read any of my ktober posts, thank you! if this is your first, thank you and i hope you enjoyed! i’ve had this in my drafts since the 3rd of september, it killed me to wait this long!

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[eveningspringbreeze]

A First Step, Towards Friendship

Season: Spring (ES!! second year)

Characters: Kohaku, Hiiro, Madara

Hiiro and Kohaku: Nom nom….

Hiiro: Ah, I accidentally got some on the table. Could you get a wipe, Kohaku-san?

Kohaku: ‘Course, here ya go. Ya gotta open yer mouth big an’ wide so that ya don't spill crumbs. 

Hiiro: Thank you, I’ll take note of that! 

Kohaku: (...He looks ‘bout as normal a boy as they come when he’s eatin’ breakfast, huh)

(The Hiiro-han I saw durin’ Matrix astonished me so much that I can’t help but incessantly worry away just from bein’ near him) 

(He disciplines in a way that dredges up memories of my sisters… or particularly, the way he made us prepare for all kinds o’ things) 

(He dived headfirst into playin’ villain just so Crazy:B could secure the first win)

(There sure were lotsa things happenin’ in the Amagi village, but by far my biggest shocker would be…) 

Hiiro: Umu. Today’s bread was baked wonderfully. It was so delicious. Maybe I should get seconds? 

Kohaku: (whispering) With that face, he follows every rule to an absolute. He forces everyone to follow them with him, an’ any opposition turns him into a terrifyin’ lad)

(Like say, were there to be a rule that determined that all breakfasts shall be bread, what would Hiiro-han do?) 

(Would he even go as far as to tell me, who’s currently eatin’ rice, to have bread instead?) 

Phew. I got so caught up with these stupid ideas that simply eatin’ breakfast took far too long. 

???: I’m hooooome!!!! ☆ I’m so thirsty after running! 

Kohaku: Mm… no doubt, that’s Madara-han’s voice. G’mornin’. 

Madara: Ohh, if it isn’t Kohaku-san! Goooood morniiiiing! ☆

Kohaku: Yer always so damn loud. 

Anyhow, there’s somethin’ I wanted to ask… 

Would ya rather have rice or bread for breakfast? 

Madara: …Hmm? That’s quite the unexpected question. 

Have you been wondering about what food I like? I’m so happy to hear that ♪

Kohaku: Ah, no, this ain’t the type o’ question that should be thrillin’ ya. Not like I’ll die without yer answer anyhow. 

Madara: Now now, don't be shy and say it with your chest! "I'm dyin' to make breakfast for Madara-han", right? ♪

Kohaku: Who’s sayin’ what? And the same goes to you. Rather than "accidentally" pullin’ it outta me, can'tcha just ask directly? Y'know, "Why is Kohaku-san asking me something like this, hmm?"

Anyhow, I’ll explain… I was eatin’ with Hiiro-han just now. 

So we were in the Matrix project, where this an’ that happened… Now, I’ve got this slightly odd relationship with Hiiro-han. 

Madara: Mmhm. I see, I get the situation now. 

Oh, to think that Kohaku-san would consult me for relationship advice ♪

Mama’s delighted! Moved beyond words! So happy, in fact, that I feel inclined to ruffle Kohaku-san’s head ☆

Kohaku: Uwaah!? Stop! 

Actually, what’s with this weirdass attitude? Are ya makin’ fun of me, ya jerk? 

Madara: Hahaha, who’s to say? 

Anyway. Personally, I’d say that becoming friends with Hiiro-san could alleviate much of your worries, Kohaku-san. 

Kohaku: Friends? 

Madara: Yep. For example… if Hiiro-san were to invite you to a meal, you wouldn’t turn him down, right? 

Kohaku: Well, I ‘spose so. We were eatin’ together earlier too. 

Madara: Then, let’s extend it from within the Starmony dorms to ES as a whole. What would you do if he asked you to go shopping with him? Turn him down? 

Kohaku: Maybe if I had other plans… ‘sides that, I don’t see a reason to not go. 

Madara: Yep. So basically, you two are already on pretty decent terms. 

But what would you consider Hiiro-san to be to you? 

Is he an acquaintance from a different unit? Or perhaps someone close to a good friend of yours? …Try taking a step back to reevaluate. 

Kohaku: That’s true. Who knows whether or not Rabu-han an’ I have the same thoughts on this person. 

Madara: I’m also assuming that, since whatever happened during Matrix, your thoughts on him have complicated since. 

You two may be on relatively good terms, but with your perspective, it seems you can’t quite put a good name to your relationship. 

And that’s exactly why if you were able to get to a point where you could start calling him a “friend”, you could reforge your relationship with him entirely. 

Kohaku: Woah… I’d never expected you to give such sound advice. 

Madara: ….That’s odd. I’m supposed to be your older senpai with plenty of life experience under my belt, no?

Kohaku: My bad. I just didn’t expect the friendless Madara-han to be the one advisin’ me on makin’ friends. 

Madara: Hrm… what was that about me making fun of you earlier? 

Kohaku: Ahaha! ‘Course, I think I can do this with yer idea. Thank ya kindly ♪

Now, I’ll call Hiiro-han right away—

Hiiro: This… is a store selling idol merchandise, yes? 

Did you want to come to this store with me, Kohaku-san? 

Kohaku: It must’ve been a doozy to be called an’ brought here so suddenly, sorry ‘bout that. 

I was just glad to have gotten in touch with ya… but the only spot I can think for bringin’ “friends” is this idol goods store. (2)

Hiiro: “Friends”? 

Kohaku: Mmhm. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout wantin’ to be such with ya, Hiiro-han. 

I thought of talkin’ it out with fists too, since I reckon that a playfight could bring us closer. 

Hiiro: With fists? Playfight? 

Kohaku: Ah, I’m just talkin’ to myself. Don’t worry ‘bout that. 

…So far, I believe you and I’ve been toddlin’ along on just “being on decent terms”. 

What do you think ‘bout callin’ each other “friends” from now on? 

We’ve even worked together as one unit before, so how ‘bout we continue workin' together? 

I’d never really tried to make friends before, so I may slip an’ say weird things from time to time. If that’s okay with you…. how about it? 

Hiiro: ….Umu! I’d love to, Kohaku-san! 

Kohaku: Really? 

Hiiro: Of course ♪ You’re a close friend of Aira’s, so I assumed that the two of us were already friends. 

But now that I think about it, I never did walk up to you and go, “let’s be friends!”, did I? 

From now on, as newfound friends… I’ll be in your care, Kohaku-san ♪

Kohaku: Ahaha, shakin’ hands as proof of our friendship, huh. What a nice feelin’ ♪

I planned on the two of us just goin’ shopping as friends, but I’d like ta hear more ‘bout ya, Hiiro-han. 

Do you have any other friends, like Hinata-han? What hobbies do you have, and what do ya usually talk about? Can ya tell me?

Hiiro: Of course! Let’s shop and chat away! 

Kohaku: Thanks, Hiiro-han. As friends, from now on… I’ll be in yer care ♪

—--------------------

Translation Notes

Callback to Aira's FS1 4* story, "Novices in Friendship", where Aira brings Kohaku to presumably the exact same merch store. 

Thank you for reading! This is not proofread at the moment, but this was such a cute story that I had to translate it!! ^^ 

[alexsnerdycorner]

You're My Girl

Title: You’re My Girl

Word Count: 2450

Warning: Smut, Swearing, reader wears a dress, PIV sex, Oral (F receiving), orgasm denial (female), multiple orgasms, no cuddling or aftercare., a bit of a praise kink,

Fandom: X-Men/Marvel/X-men 97

Pairing: Remy LeBeau/Gambit X Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Request: hi hello I am SO here to provide Remy smut requests. reader gets jealous of Bella Donna flirting with Remy so he has to remind her who his girl REALLY is (also she totally hears them)

Summary: Remy has eyes for Y/N but when the League of Assassins and Guild of Thieves have other plans for him, things don’t go well. Bella Donna has been flirting with Remy all day at their engagement “party” which makes Y/N jealous. When she starts giving him the cold shoulder, he takes her into his room and fucks her within earshot of his fiancé. Remy gets off on the fact that she can hear you two.

A/N: Ah! I love this idea! I will say I have yet to read all of the Gambit comics, but I have watched x-men TAS/97 and have read some of the comics with gambit and belladonna. I’m so stoked to be writing this!!! I squealed when I read this request. My dear ANON, if you have any more requests for any character, please reach out. I might even do a part two to this is you all like it.

Work:

When you were thirteen, you were banished from home after showing the mutant ability to create portals that teleported you and others anywhere you could think of. Jean-Luc LeBeau of the Thieves’ Guild took you in off the streets after witnessing you steal some food from a stand in New Orleans’ French Quarter. He introduced you to his adoptive son and mutant, Remy, a handsome fourteen-year-old. Jean-Luc and Remy taught you the ways of their world, turning you into a master thief.

You had always been attracted to Remy from the moment you met him. Remy was always there for you no matter what. He had a soft spot for you as he too was abandoned for being a mutant. The day you turned eighteen, Remy asked you out on a date. You, being in love with him already, said yes.

Things were going great until Bella Donna Bordeaux entered the scene. Bella Donna was the daughter of a high-ranking member of the Assassin’s Guild, the Thieves’ Guild sworn enemy. She also couldn’t resist Remy’s charm and good looks.

Behind your back, Jean-Luc and Bella Donna’s father arranged a peacemaking marriage between Remy and Bella Donna. When Jean-Luc announced it a few months after you turned twenty-one, you were heartbroken.

A few weeks later they held an engagement party for Remy and Bella Donna which you were forced to attend. This is where you were now. Sitting in the corner near where Remy stood in a suit and tie, you watched as Bella Donna came over and linked her arm with Remy’s. A huge smile was plastered on her face. Remy smirked up at her.

“Oh, Remy, mon amour, would you come meet my friend, she has been just dyin’ to meet you?” She said.

“Uh,” Remy paused for a moment as if unsure to go with her, “Sure. Why not, Cher.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as Bella Donna guided him over to a dark-haired woman almost as beautiful as she was. He extended a hand in greeting which she accepted and shook. You couldn’t hear their whole conversation, just bits and pieces as it was loud in the ballroom of the Thieves’ Guild compound. You were supposed to be socializing but just sat there in the corner by the bar and watched Remy.

Bella Donna was giggling at something Remy said and took her hand and pressed it to his chest in a flirtatious gesture. You heard her say the phrase “be a doll” and then the word “drink”.

He turned to her and said something you couldn’t hear and she replied to him. Remy started to walk to the back of the room towards you and the mini bar. He smiled at you as you sipped your drink.

“Hi Cher,” he greeted you.

“Remy” you said flatly.

Seeing the bartender was busy with someone else, he reached over the counter and poured himself a bourbon. He placed the bottle back over the counter, The bartender came over and asked how she could help.

“An expresso martini for miss Bella Donna, please,” he turned to the bartender and then back to you when she turned to make the martini.

“She looks like she’s having fun.” You nodded in Bella Donna’s direction. Her back was turned and she was having an animated conversation with her friend.

“Yeah she is.” He said wistfully and stared at you for a moment with an undeterminable look on his face for a moment. You shied away from his look and found yourself staring at the ground.

“Sir, the drink,” the bartender pushed out the glass to Remy.

“Yes, thank you, mon ami.” He grabbed the drink from the bar. You watched him as he walked back to Bella Donna and hand her the drink. She smiled at him in thanks.

She sipped the drink slowly and glanced up to see you staring. You overt your eyes for a moment as she set her drink down on the table in front of her. You looked back up as she whispered something in Remy’s ear and held out her hand to him. You can’t help but roll your eyes. He looked up at her and took her hand. He led her over to the dance floor.

A slower song started to play as she held onto his shoulder with one had and his hand with the other. He led her in a slow dance. Bella Donna looked back over to where you were sitting to find you staring at the two of them yet again. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Remy’s cheek, making your blood boil.

You shot out of your chair and over to the entryway where Jean-Luc stood.

“I’m not feeling that great, Jean-Luc,” you lied, “I have a migraine, is it okay if I lie down for a bit?”

Concerned, Jean-Luc places a hand on your shoulder, “Are you alright, darlin’?”

“I will be,” you said forcing a smile onto your face, “I would just like to lie down in my room for a bit.”

“Yes, go. Go. I will get you when food is being served.” He patted you on the back.

You take one last glance over to Remy and catch his eye. He raises his brow in question. You roll your eyes and portal to the next room over, your bedroom.

Once in your room you let out a sigh and kicked your shoes off. How could he do this to you? How could he just let her flirt with him all evening without even so much as a look at you to see if you were okay? How could he be –

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. You open and see Remy standing there sheepishly. You looked past his shoulder and could see Bella Donna waiting by the entrance to the ballroom.

“What,” you said coldly but let him in. He closed the door behind himself.

“Pa said you weren’t feelin’ good. I came to check on you.” He said lightly.

“Shouldn’t you be out there with your fiancé?” you asked harshly.

Remy sighed and then chuckled, “That’s what this is about, cher?”

You clench your jaw and look away from the man you loved, “Not like you even care.”

“Come on, dats not fair.” He reached out to touch your arm but you backed away.

“She’s been flirting with you all night at the party for your engagement and you don’t even have the balls to ask me how I’m doing,” you spat.

“Cher-” he starts.

“Don’t ‘cher’ me, Remy. We were dating for almost three years before she found a way to get you away from me. And then you pretend that we never were together. That we never even mattered.”

“Y/N,” he said, “We do matter.”

“That’s not how you’re acting. You never even objected to the marriage. You chose her over me.” Frustrated tears brimmed at your eyes.

“Y/N, dat’s not true. Not true at all. I begged Jean-Luc to let me have you. To find a ‘nother way to unite the guilds. He said I will either marry her or get banished without you. And I couldn’t stand the tought of loosin’ ya. It was Sophie’s choice, cher.” He found your eyes with his own and didn’t let them go. “Don’t ya tink for one second that I chose her over you.”

He moved to touch your arm again and you let him this time. You look up at him with watery eyes, “I miss you already”

“I’m right here, cher. Right here.” He pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t leave me Remy. Please.” You said into his chest, “Run away with me.”

“Dey will hunt us down, cher, you know dat.” He said into your hair.

“Let them,” you pulled back and looked at his face.

“Y/N,” he said sadly.

“Remy, I love you. I always have and I always will. Nothing will change that. I want you. No one else. You”

You could see something go off in Remy’s brain the moment you said you loved him. When you finished talking he leaned forward and kissed you hard on the lips. You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his body. He broke the kiss, “I want you too, mon amour.”

Remy shrugged off his suit jacket, placed it on your dresser, and kicked his shoes off. He then walked you back to the bed and you sat down on it. He knelt on either side of your legs and kissed you. His tongue parted your mouth and danced with yours. His fingers danced at the hem of your short dress. It was flowy so the skirt was around you instead of under you.

“You’re so beautiful in this dress cher,” he said between kisses, “but right now I want it off you and on the floor.”

He pulled up the dress up over your head and tossed it to the ground

“You’re my girl, my only girl,” He growled and loosened his tie before sliding it over his head.

He went back to kissing you. As his hand roamed your body you started to undo the buttons to his dress shirt. You pushed the shirt off his body and let it fall to the floor in a heap. He held you to him, stroking up and down your back and then around to your front, grazing your breasts before stopping at your shoulders. He gently pushed you back so that you were lying down and hovered over you.

“I’m gonna want you to scream my name loud enough so she can hear that you’re my girl. So they all can hear that you’re my girl.” He whispered into your ear. He trailed kisses down your neck and stomach and to the waistband of your panties. He replaced his mouth with his hands and slowly slid your panties off. He tossed them aside all while maintaining eye contact with you.

He scooched back so that his head was hovering over your midsection. He lowered his mouth to your core and started to lick at your clit. His hands holding onto your thighs. Your hands moved to his head, removing his hair from his pony tail, and running your fingers through it.

“Oh god your mouth feels so good,” you moaned. He licked long and slow circles down your clit. When he put more pressure on it, your hips bucked and you let out a moan. He grabbed your thighs harder and let out a soft giggle that vibrated against your throbbing bud.

He introduced a finger into your pussy and you arched your back off the bed. He inserted another finger and you groaned out his name.

“Cher, I’m gonna need you to be a bit louder for me. I know you can do that for Remy.” He began pumping his fingers in and out all while lapping at your clit. He introduced one last finger and began a harsh and fast come-hither motion on your g-spot.

“Oh Fuck, Remy!” You shouted.

“Now dats better, mon amour.”

Your breathing hitched and you felt a coil deep in your stomach start to unravel. Your walls started to spasm and contract around his fingers.

“I’m close, baby.” You cried out. But before you could climax he removed his fingers and mouth. You whined in protest.

“Ain’t no way I’m just gonna let you cum on my fingers. I want you to cum on my fucking cock so you remember that you’re my girl.” He pushed himself up off the bed and removed his belt in one fell swoop. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down with his boxers revealing a long hard cock glistening with precum.

You sat up and reached for his cock. You opened your mouth but he stopped you with his words, “No cher, tonight’s all about you and your pleasure. Lay back and enjoy.”

He bent down to kiss you as you laid back down on the bed. He teased your wet pussy with his hard cock and then pushed in in one quick thrust.

“Oh, Remy! Yes!” you couldn’t contain your moans.

He began a slow and agonizing pace to let you get adjusted. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Ça c’est une bonne fille” he panted. That’s a good girl.

You clenched around his cock at his praise, “Oh, God. I love you Remy.”

“I’m gonna need ya’ to be a bit louder, Y/N,” He grunted, picking up the pace.

He soon began a merciless rhythm with frenzied thrusts and grunts. That familiar feeling of tension came back to your stomach and you hungrily kissed him.

“I’m close, Remy! Please,” You begged loudly.

Please what, cher?” He urged, “use ya’ voice.”

“Please let me come!” you pleaded. The coil tightened, threatening to push you over the edge.

“Go ahead, Y/N,” he howled, “come for me.”

The coil in your stomach shattered, flooding you with pure ecstasy. Your walls clenched around his cock and he swore loudly.

“Merde! Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned.

“Come for me baby,” You kissed his neck.

He let out a grunt and frantically shoved into you before allowing himself to release his seed into you. He pumped his cum into your pussy with his cock and slowly pulled out of you.

He grabbed some tissues from your nightstand and cleaned your pussy gently. He grabbed more and cleaned himself off.

“Woo, cher, Remy loves ya’ so much!” he exclaimed. He took in the sight of you completely undone on the bed from his doing and smiled, “Whaddya say we go back out there? I wanna see the look on ‘er face.”

You knew who exactly she was. It was Bella Donna. So you smirked and nodded your head. Remy helped you up and dressed you before dressing himself in his now wrinkled suit.

He gave you one last kiss before opening your door and leading you out. Jean-Luc was in the corner with Bella Donna and her father. The moment she saw the two of you she raced over as fast as she could while wearing high heels.

“You fucking man-stealing whore!” Bella Donna yelled at you. She raised a hand to slap you but before she could Remy caught her wrist and tutted in disapproval.

“Uh-uh Bella, you don’t touch her. She’s mine.” Remmy growled and released her hand. She stood flabbergasted as Remy turned to you, “Can I have this dance?” He held out a hand to you and without any hesitation, you took it and he led you onto the dance floor leaving a sputtering Bella Donna at the entrance.

[mcrslover]

MCR quotes for anyone who needs them:

"Kids would say they were going to kill themselves then they heard our music... it's our mission"

- Mikey Way.

...

"Reasons why mcr is good for you

juradsleigh:

Feeling like a rad vampire? Listen to bullets

Feeling angry? Listen to 3 cheers

Feeling sad? Listen to black parade

Feeling colourful and happy? Listen to danger days

Feeling like breaking up your band? Listen to death never stop you"

...

"This is for every kid out there... That dyed their hair a fucked up colour and can't get a job. They got a tattoo on their neck like Frank, and can't get a job. That does this because they fuckin' love this. This song is for every kid in the audience- even if you don't have fucked up hair or tattoos-every kid on stage, this song's about us, this song's about you, it's called The Kids From Yesterday."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Stop covering your children's eyes.

Everything is fucked up and pretending it's not won't make it any better. I'm tired of people praying for a change when it's up to them to get off their asses and make a change."

- Frank Iero.

...

"I spent most of my time in the back of the class, just drawing. My goal was to not get noticed in school, because spent so long not being noticed anyway or being treated as if I were invisible that I started to like it.

I've learned that it's actually not very lonely... It's like, you have less friends but the friends you have count more. I met a lot of people that weren't outsiders, or they were very popular, and they have a lot of friends but I don't know if they're the kinds of friends you would call up at 3 am to help you out or talk about being depressed."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Promise me, when MCR's gone, you'll do what it takes to survive. You're strong enough to do it without us."

- Gerard Way.

...

"All your quirks and all your problems, even your depressions, and your failures that's.. that's what makes you, you."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you or someone you know is severely depressed you need to fucking talk to someone! Your mom, someone in school, I don't give a fuck! Because suicide is fucking bullshit."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Nothing is worth hurting yourself over, nothing is worth taking your life over"

- Gerard Way.

...

"If we never play another show again, just keep yourself alive."

- Gerard Way.

...

"We're outsiders, we're the kids who didn't get dates for the prom, we're the kids who were confused, who didn't fit in with the cliques, who weren't part of the in-crowd.

Growing up can be a very frightening and confusing time, and I think people look at us and see it's okay to be different. They see that there is a way other than what they're being offered. That you can stand out, that you can be creative, that you can be yourself."

- Gerard Way.

...

"gerard-hey:

I love MCR so much it's like they have a song for every situation. Feeling sad? Listen to The Lights Behind Your Eyes. Feeling frustrated? Listen to I'm Not Okay. Feeling Energetic? Listen to Na Na Na. Feeling like you wanna kick some ass? Listen to Destroya.

Feeling rebellious? Listen to Teenagers. Feel like you wanna break up your band? Listen to Fake Your Death."

...

"The difference we want to make is, number one, to let these kids know that they're not alone, that they're actually not that messed up, and that they can do whatever they want they can express themselves in any way they want without being persecuted or called a faggot or some kind of racist thing. Really just get people to get over their stuff so they can live."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Whatever happens to you, no matter what, l'm always fucking there for you... Don't forget that. I don't give a shit if your boyfriend dumps you. If your girlfriend dumps you. If you're working a shitty job or can't get through school. If you can't get through a fucking Harry Potter book, there's nothing worth dying over. There's nothing worth taking your life over. I will always fucking be there."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you come to an MCR show, you're probably a little fucked up, and that's okay because we're just as fucked up as you. It's us against the world. And it's great because there's thousands of us in one place."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Someone doesn't like you? Fuck it.

Having a bad day? Fuck it. Didn't get that job, or that grade, or that promotion you wanted? Fuck it. Fighting with your lover? Fuck it. Feel fat today? Fuck it. Losing control of everything and everyone? Fuck it.

What matters now won't matter soon; the truly important thing is that you are alive, and that you have the capacity to do absolutely anything with this beautiful, crazy coincidence of being on this earth. Just stick your middle fingers in the air and think, 'Damn, I have it good."

- Gerard Way.

...

"You're going to come across a lot of shitty bands, and a lot of shitty people. And if anyone of those people call your names because of what you look like, or bedause they don't accept you for who you are. I want you to look right at that mother fucker, stick up your middle finger and scream

"FUCK YOU!!"

- Gerard Way.

...

"Real revenge is making something of yourself."

- Gerard Way.

❤️🖤❤️🖤

[fanartlover1234]

GAME OF FEELING

Hook always flirts with Y/n.

Daughter of Eris x Captain Hook

Made by a request in dm

Can u do one where the reader plays hard to get with hook?

Eris as her mother most parted way when she came, too afraid of whaf she might do, her mother was the godess of chaos after all and who knows what her daughter might bring as rumors spread that her father was a powerful wizard.

Y/n liked it that way, it ment she had never have a need to worry for someone crossing her as Uliana herself never dared to touch her.

It ment they feared her and if there is something her mother teached her is thay fear is power.

Everthing is going smooth untill he shows up.

Captain fucking hook himself, almost always at her side amd before she knew the rest of his gang was always around her aswell.

As now she was sitting at a table her elbows rested on her knees as she watched some kids run around.

She flicked her finged amd they triped when a ruck suddenly lifted from the ground and chaos was made.

Hook leaned to her ear and his lips brushed the shell of her ear when he spoke "I love it when you are wicked"

The girl turned her head to him their lips mere inches apart.

"Fuck off hook" she said before getting up amd walking away from the group.

Or

Few days ago, to get a flower they had to kill the deadly bugs around it.

Y/n took her bracelet amd used magic to turn one of the emblems, the scorpion, into live creature.

"So they are deadly right?" Hook asked leaning over rhe girls shoulder to look at the scorpion.

"Yeah like you after a bad nap" she said looking back.

"Maybe it would be better if you were next to me" he said.

"Ill send one of these on you"

Few day pas and the girl wanders around as a soft melody plays in the back round and she sings.

"If theres a prize for rotten jugdement, i guess ive already won that, no mana worth the agroovation thays ancient history been there done that"

The muses come out joining her in her song of heart " Who d'you think you're kiddin'?He's the earth and heaven to you Try to keep it hidden Honey, we can see right through you Girl, you can't conceal it We know how you're feelin', who you're thinkin' of" by muses

"I wont say it"by Y/n

"You swoon, you sigh Why deny it? Uh-oh" by muses

"Its too cliche i wont say im in love, I thought my heart had learned its lesson

It feels so good when you start out

(Ah) My head is screaming, "Get a grip, girl"

"Unless you're dyin' to cry your heart out"" by Y/n

"You keep on denying

Who you are and how you're feelin'

Baby, we're not lying, hon we saw ya hit the ceiling

Face it like a grown up

When ya gonna own up that ya got, got, got it bad?" By muses

"This scene won't play

I won't say I'm in love

You're way off base

I won't say it

Get off my case

I won't say it" by Y/n

"Girl, don't be proud, it's ok, you're in love" by muses

Music comes to an end as the girl whispers the last words to herself "at least not out loud, i wont say im in love" she whispers to herself as the nex part, the only time she will ever say it out loud " im in love with the captain of the seas"

[ist4rgirlo]

──────── 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONE SHOT !

what else can you do when you see the love of your life looking at someone else like how you look at him?

SEQUEL : invisible string

───────────────────────────

There it was again, that pain in my heart. That pain that I’ve been constantly feeling whenever I would look at Conrad and Belly. He had this smile, this smile that only comes out for Belly. What was so special about her? what was so special about her that I don’t have?

Where did it start? when did things start to fall apart? it started with him acting so different — ever since Belly came here last summer, his world started to revolve around her. It was like I wasn’t here at all.

Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

There were times where I would be alone in my room, thinking if I’ve done enough. If I was worth it, If I deserve Conrad. I felt insecure — Belly was beautiful, I admit that — she’s always been beautiful.

Every mornin', I glared at you with storms in my eyes

How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?

He failed to see the signs, he failed to see how hurt I was. How it pains me everytime he would say the words “i love you” because it never sounded sincere anymore.

He would act like nothing happened, completely ignoring me. He doesn’t even notice that when we’re talking, all he talks about is Belly. He never saw the glint in my eyes, he ignored my cries, my cries for him.

Stop, you're losin' me

I can't find a pulse

My heart won't start anymore

For you

'Cause you're losin' me

I never wanted to lose him, it would kill me if I did. I never saw myself not loving him anymore. He is my dream, the love of my life — well was. It was exhausting, tiring — now he’s slowly losing me.

I walked towards Belly and Conrad — “Excuse me” I asked softly, looking at the both of them.

“Hey, y/n” Belly smiled at me, I looked at Conrad — he was barely taking his eyes away from Belly, mesmerized by her smile.

“Uh.. can I talk to Conrad?” I asked, looking down. My hands were shaking, tears started to form in my eyes. I hated this, I shouldn’t have walked towards them.

Conrad looked at me before saying bye to Belly, he pulled me to the side — raising his brows at me, tilting his head — waiting for me to talk.

He looked different, he acted different — the man infront of me looks nothing like the man I fell inlove with. I looked at hin in the eyes, seeing no emotions in it — my heart shattered.

“I-Is something wrong between us?”

“Wrong? I don’t understand you” He sounded genuinely confused, it was ridiculous. I should’ve just stopped there, at this point I am the one hurting myself.

“I know you don’t”

I chuckled, looking down. “Y/n if you’re going to waste my time then just do it another time” he said — running a hand through his hair — stealing a glance at Belly.

I scoffed, he looked at me — his brows furrowed “What?”.

“Oh nothing, I just think that you can’t take your eyes off her. I mean I can’t really blame you”

“What are you talking about?!” Conrad’s voice started to raise a little.

“I’m not stupid, Conrad. I can see it, you don’t have to lie to me. You’re falling for her, are you?” — “Conrad” it felt wrong, it didn’t feel right at all — calling him by his name — it felt like we were strangers. He was just silent — looking away.

Why can’t he say anything? why is he so quiet? why is he not denying it? why isn’t he choosing me?

“Do something, babe, say something" (say something)

"Lose something, babe, risk something" (you're losin' me)

He bit his lip before saying “Y/n, I’m sorry” he tried to reach for my hand — his face filled with guilt. I bit my lip as I fought back a sob — pulling my hand away from him, walking away from him.

My heary dropped, my stomach churned. I regret it, god why am I so stupid? I couldn’t breathe, my heart broke in so many pieces. What happened to us? where did I go wrong?

I gave him all my best me's, my endless empathy.

I shook my head no, “No, i’m sorry for being so fucking stupid. I should’ve never let it last this long, we shouldn’t have happened. I knew that there was always a spot for her in your heart, I should’ve just stayed away” that wasn’t true, I don’t know why I said that.

Conrad looked at me, walking towards me grabbing my hand “No.. no y-you don’t mean that. Please, y-you don’t know what you’re saying.” he stuttered, shaking his head no — hurt from what I just said, he knew it was true, he tried to deny it but he can’t.

All I wanted was for him to notice me, for him to love me like how much I love him. No one told me how exhausting it was to chase someone who won’t give you back what you gaveto them.

Choose something, babe, I got nothing (got nothing)

To believe

Unless you're choosin' me"

“I-I’ll just go, I’m sorry for ruining this party. I’m so so sorry, Susannah” I said before putting a hand over my mouth — pulling away from him, turning around.

“Darling please“ Susannah said standing up from her seat, I looked at her, shaking my head no.

“Do something, Connie!” Jeremiah panicked — yelling at Conrad — he was about to run towards me but he was too late, I was already out of the door.

I can't find a pulse

My heart won't start anymore

I looked back — seeing Conrad hugging Belly through the window. I ran towards my car and went inside — I sobbed as I drove off — didn’t dare to even look back. That was my que to leave because he already chose, and he didn’t choose me.

I know my pain is such an imposition

Now, you're runnin' down the hallway

And you know what they all say

You don't know what you got until it's gone

───────────────────────────

here you go anon !! this totally broke my heart — i hope you enjoy <3

[natsgrave]

YOU'RE LOSING ME | wanda maximoff

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N's POV

What are you really willing to do for love? For someone so important to you?

Well, for me, I'll do everything and anything for that person. Even though it hurts. So much.

I rolled to my side and smile instantly crept into my face. There she is, my girlfriend looking so peaceful. I admire her sleeping state and curved her figures inside my mind.

"You know, it's rude to stare." She suddenly spoke making me laugh.

"What? Can't I admire my gorgeous girl?" I teasingly asked.

She slowly opened her eyes revealing my favorite green eyes, "Good morning, Y/N." she whispered with a smile.

"Good morning, witchy." I softly said with a little laugh that I tried to hide causing her to throw a pillow at me.

I love morning like this. Just us not caring about the world.

Just like the clock works before we know it, we already have to leave the bed to face reality.

"It's nice to finally see you awake, love birds." Tony said as he took a sipped of his coffee.

"We're not love birds, Stark." Wanda replied with the roll of her eyes.

Ah, yes, we're secret because she said and I quote she's not yet ready to come out. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt me one bit because it does. All I want is to love her, out in the open and not like this.

I felt a hand touches my shoulder causing me to go back to reality, I look infront of me and met Wanda's soft gazes, "Are you okay? I've called you so many times."

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I'm good." I breathed out and walked away not giving her any second glance.

I walked towards the kitchen and make myself coffee when Natasha spoke.

"Still keeping it a secret?" I didn't even notice she's here. And yes, she's the only one who knows about our relationship. We didn't tell her for the record, she just walked in on us… making out.

Anyway, I look up at her and gave her a defeated smile, "Isn't it obvious?"

"How long are you going to ignore that pain inside your chest?" she asked and I didn't answer because honestly… I don't know either.

"Y/N, when are you going to choose yourself? When are you going to see what your worth really is?" She continues holding my shoulder forcing me to face her.

"I love her." I whispered.

"And I know that, I can see that. Hell, you wouldn't even ignore and bare all this pain if you don't." Nat said and lift my chin, "You're like a sister to me and I don't say this often but I do love you, Y/N. I care for you and it's really hard seeing my little sister getting hurt whether she does it unintentionally." She softly added.

"Nat, I-" The words I was about to say instantly cut off when I heard Wanda's laugh ringing loud. I look behind us and see her laughing with Vision. The fucking red walking toaster.

"Are you sure the reason why she's keeping you both a secret is because she is not yet ready or…?" She asked trailing her last word knowing that I'll know it instantly.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." I reassured her but deep down, it was for me.

Days turns into weeks which also turn into months. Months and nothing changed, not even a single thing. Every time I try opening the subject to Wanda, she always find a way to divert it into different subject but today, I wouldn't let it happen. Not anymore.

"Wanda, we need to talk." I sternly said as I enter her room.

"Hi to you too, baby." she replied still sitting on her bed.

"We can't go on like this." I directly said starting the topic.

"Y/N, can we–"

"No, we can't. We're going to talk about this right now. God, we've been together for almost three years, Wanda. Three long fucking years and not even single effort you made to change our status."

"Y/N, you know damn well I'm not yet ready to make us public." She said nearly shouting.

"Three years is not enough for you? I didn't say that you make us public, all I want is for the team to know. Just them. I'm tired being your little secret, I'm tired of you being mine just around this goddamn four walls. I respect what you want and need, Wanda. For three years, I prioritized what you want, this, but you have to understand that I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this anymore. I kept pushing my needs aside because I love you, but I can't do it anymore. I want to love you, freely. I kept choosing you, I kept giving you all my best me's until there's nothing left for me. I can't choose you anymore." I ramble, on the verge of crying but I kept all my emotions under control.

"Y/N, I… I'm sorry." Wanda softly said standing infront of me.

"Are you apologizing because you're now realizing all of this or are you apologizing because you still can't give the only thing I want?" I asked quietly.

"I'm sorry because I hurt you and I keep on hurting you."

"THEN TAKE IT AWAY! MAKE THIS GO AWAY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THIS! DO SOMETHING!" I shouted as my tears finally left my eyes.

"Y/N…"

"Wanda, I don't know anymore. Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? I'm getting tired. I tried, I keep telling myself to wait until you're ready but every time, this voices inside my head kept telling and asking me, are you even going to get there?" I cried out.

"Are you… Are you tired now, Y/N?" she shakily asked.

I nod and wiped my tears, "I'm so tired, Wanda. I feel so lost, this between us made me doubt myself so much. Am I not worth the risk for you? I'm tired of wondering how can you just pretend everyday like we're nothing." I sobbed and sat on the bed as I rest my face on my hands, "I'm tired of saying that I'm okay, that it doesn't hurt. I'm tired of pretending everyday. I'm tired of waiting for you to fulfill your promises. I'm tired of defending you against Nat especially myself. I believed in you, Wanda. I kept waiting but it seems like in this relationship, it's not us against the world. It's me against you." I said between cries looking at her to see her crying as well.

"Y/N, I know whatever I say right now wouldn't change anything. It won't take the pain that I've caused you but trust me, I love you. I really do. I can understand how hurtful it must have been for you. I know that I failed to treat you with the love and respect that you deserve. I am truly sorry for any pain or suffering that I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I can only imagine the amount of pain that I have caused you. I want you to know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. I am willing to work on myself and our relationship to ensure that this does not happen again. I know that sorry is not enough to fix the mess I have made. I promise to do everything I can to show you how much I love and value you as my girlfriend." Wanda sobbingly said as she held my hand.

"There, you're making promises once again. How many time did you promise me that you'll make it up to me? at first you'll make such effort but eventually, you'll stop and forget about it. I don't even know if I can trust anything that's coming out of your mouth right now." I said and walked away from her, "It hurts me to think that we can't share this part of our lives together with those who are important to us. Am I not important to you? Do you not trust me? Or is it just too scary to go against the norm? I can't keep pretending not to be in love with you when we're around others. I want to hold your hand, introduce you to my friends and family, and just be able to love you openly without any fear or shame." I added. "I don't understand." Wanda said. I chuckled, "I know you don't."

"Do you want to end this? Us?" She asked with fears in her eyes.

I stayed quiet for few seconds thinking what I really want before looking back at her meeting her eyes, "Yes." I husked out causing more tears to fall out of her eyes.

"I'm just so tired, Wanda. I'm tired of the stress and the pressure that surrounds us every day. I'm tired of asking 'how long?' I'm tired of feeling like there's never enough time to do everything we want to do. I'm tired of constantly feeling like we're not doing enough, or that we're falling short somehow. Most of all, I'm tired of feeling disconnected from you. It feels like you've been so busy, so caught up in your own life, that you don't take the time to connect with me. I miss those intimate moments where we could just talk about anything and everything, and I feel like we don't have those as often as we should. It has to be done and I don't want to place blame on anyone— not myself, not you, not anyone else." I walked towards her and wiped her tears before pressing our foreheads together, "I'm sorry, I never thought that this day will come. I'm sorry I got tired and couldn't wait anymore. I love you but I can't be with you anymore. My heart won't start anymore." I finished before lingering a long kiss on her head.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry for not showing it enough. I'm sorry I failed us." She sniffles before looking at me and caressed my cheeks, "I love you… in every universe."

I finally understood that true love isn't always about being together; Sometimes, it's about letting go. Because love alone, wasn't enough.

Both ends of rope were held, but they were held by me, and only me.

I love her too much and that's my biggest mistake I'll never regret, and if I'd ever meet her again in another lifetime, I'll beg the god to let me have you this time.

[reds-writings]

crashin' the party

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: a bit of a whopper that had me stumped for a bit. i sincerely hope you like it. i didn't plan to go this far with the jj universe but the more i do the more fun i have with these two! i'm going to rearrange my masterlist a bit and put these parts in a more chronological order! this part technically takes place before the events of if only tonight we could sleep. feedback is always cherished and my requests are open!

word count: roughly 6.7k

warnings: cursing, fighting (verbal and physical), two idiots being dumb, miscommunication trope, the boy's a liar, guns, mentions of drugs, rust self-sabotaging, marty being marty, ANGST, making up at the end, things can be a lil toxic, reader gets the shit end of the stick in most of this, etc

You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something rather egregious was brewing behind your back over the past several days. Starting with the unfortunate shitshow that was Marty’s young thing of a mistress letting Maggie in on his line of transgressions due to a fit of spite. The fallout was more than unsavory which had him plenty distracted with trying to hopelessly pick up the shattered pieces of his now blown-up marriage. 

Then, Rust decided to take a few week's leave in the middle of the case. Which came completely out of left field given his obsession with having this all solved more rapidly due to the ever-shortening time limit Quesada had set for you all. A dying father in Alaska or something along those lines. He hadn’t exactly informed you of it directly himself until you rang him up the night he was supposedly set to depart. 

“Heard you were takin’ leave.” You idly twisted the phone chord between your fingers as you sat atop your kitchen counter. One of your coworkers at the precinct had mentioned it off-handedly earlier in the day and you were more than curious as to why everyone else seemed to know of Rust’s so-called last-minute trip and not you. 

“Yeah.” Rust’s static voice sounded back to you, sounding stranger than what was his usual. More dazed and gruff.

“In the middle of this case?”

“Mhm…”

“...Mind sharin’ why?” He was being more elusive than usual and it was starting to grate your nerves further by the minute.  

“Visitin’ my father. Anchorage. He’s dyin’.” 

Oh. 

“I’m uh...I'm sorry to hear that…when are you headin’ out? Need me to drive you to the airport or somethin’?-”

“Marty’s takin’ me. Tonight.” 

That made you even more surprised. It wasn’t like the two were necessarily all that chummy. You tried not to let it sting that there seemed to be a purposeful choice in having Marty take him instead of you. The dynamic between you two wasn’t at its most idyllic but you hadn’t thought it to be too strained despite recent events. Things with the investigation were just piling up, getting trickier and more stressful to manage as time ticked on. 

Sure, you guys hadn’t exactly been able to elaborate further on what was the bomb of feelings he had all but dropped on you but you hadn’t been taking it personally. At least not until now. Maybe he was starting to regret things. This was probably him pulling away so you’d get the hint to not be so keen on him moving forward. Were you coming off as desperate?  Suffocating?

Realizing you’d yet to say anything you cleared your throat a bit, “Thought Marty would’ve been too busy dealin' with winning back Maggie and everything...” The couple already managed to give you more than a migraine or two since things went to shit. On top of Marty’s deep-seated 'woe is me' bullshit, Maggie had managed to stop by demanding answers in a hysterical flurry to things you had no knowledge of or frankly any business in. 

“I won’t be back for a bit.” It was becoming apparent that he wanted to finish up this conversation sooner rather than later. 

“Okay…I guess I’ll keep lookin’ for leads and whatnot. There might be a girl I know from way back who’s tied up in the kind of crowd we’re lookin’ at. I’m hopin’ she might be familiar with Ledoux or somethin’. If there’s anything you want me diggin’ into just give me a shout I guess.”

He was silent for a moment you considered too prolonged.

“I gotta head out. Keep track of what you find. Marty’ll be watchin’ my place.” 

“You got it.” 

More silence.

“Bye, Y/n.” 

“Bye-” The line went dead before you knew it. 

Geez. 

The dial tone mocked you as you sat there in curling embarrassment. You don’t think he’d ever blown you off so bluntly before. Not even when you two first met. Your neck and face started to grow warm as you fought off the increasing sense of rejection brought on by your own insecurities and his sudden callousness. You were just overthinking things. Rust’s father was dying and it wasn’t like you could expect him to properly express what it was he was going through. You just had to be somewhat okay with standing by on the sidelines until he was ready to open up on the matter. 

You hadn’t heard much about Rust’s parents or his upbringing but from what little tidbits he managed to drop it wasn’t anything to be envious of. Things seemed complicated from the sounds of it so you had no doubt Rust was probably just having a tougher time trying to navigate what he felt in anticipation of the grief that awaited him ahead.

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you, Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his eyes as he sighed through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of his partner’s apartment. 

“So you lied to her.” 

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look. 

“You don’t think that oughta blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“Don't need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you. 

Things were becoming too complicated. A consequence of his pathetic failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to those false hopes had him feeling increasingly weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and torture himself over it. To entertain such notions with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. If he backed away now perhaps he could still hold onto whatever little semblance of control he had left. 

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t necessarily know about the recent developments between you two but it was apparent he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-” 

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother pressing. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with any hypothetical advances toward you. Marty saw you as something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you two. In his opinion, your heart was just too big for the likes of Rust. He didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return. 

The days following the odd phone call had that intuitive feeling in your gut growing all the more sour. You tried your best to find more on Ledoux but the bastard was practically a ghost. Any and all traces left behind were either long gone by now or slipping from you faster than you could blink. Marty wasn’t being much help either, hardly showing up at work or being in a perpetual state of buzzed when he did actually bother to grace everyone with his presence. 

Though, anytime you did really manage to catch him he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye for longer than what he deemed necessary. Either the obvious bout of drinking he was throwing himself into was reaching a dangerously depressive territory or he was feeling guilty about something else entirely. He never was the best at bluffing when it came to things outside of the job. It was even more rare to find yourself in a situation where he had something to lie about to you in the first place. 

Something was definitely up. 

“Maggie talk to you yet?” You asked, setting down a styrofoam box of takeout in front of him as he sat miserably hungover at his desk. He took a peek inside and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before deciding to dig in.

“No…she ain’t answerin’ any of my calls. Her pops told me to fuck off plenty already so he ain’t an option of gettin’ through to her neither.”

“It’s a pretty big deal, Marty. It’s best to probably just…give her time to feel angry. Your constant pokin’ at her is only gonna drive her away further. Goin’ to the hospital huffin’ and puffin' like you did didn’t help your case either.” You sipped your coffee as you watched him rub at his eyes.

“I just needed her to hear me out. Hell, I even got Rust to go-” His stocky shoulders locked up suddenly, seeming to have caught himself in revealing too much before settling on shoveling more food into his mouth. 

Your eyes tightened in suspicion.

“Speakin’ of, you heard anything from Rust while he’s been away?” 

Marty shook his head a little too fast to be considered convincing, “Not a peep,” Obvious lie, “can’t imagine the intense bouts of angst he’s brewing up for himself all the way where he's holed up.” 

“Mhm. How’re you holdin’ up at his place? Need me to bring by anything? I know it ain’t necessarily the Hilton-”

“N-no! I’m good. No. I uh-...I got some groceries the other day. It’s a mystery how that guy survives with what little he keeps in his damn fridge. Just ridiculous.” He coughed and took a sip of his own coffee, avoiding your growingly pointed glare. He could feel sweat start to form on his brow and he knew he needed to head out before he fucked everything up even more. Having Maggie angry at him was already enough to deal with. 

“I bet. Listen-”

“L-Look I gotta get goin’. Regrettably, I drank too much last night and it’s honest to God catchin’ up to me right about now and I don’t need Quesada givin’ me shit. Sorry to bail on ya but I’ll see you later, a-alright? Thanks for the food.” Marty scrambled to get his stuff before semi-hurrying to scamper off. He could feel your eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn’t dare to look back. 

Unfurling your arms you sat your mug down and reached for the receiver on your desk. It was a last-ditch effort, dialing Maggie, to see if Marty’s slip of the tongue about Rust meant anything substantial. If they were chatting here and there while Rust was away that was fine. If Marty was having Rust get through to Maggie all the way from where he was that was fine too. If Rust wasn’t in Alaska at all then you’re sure that ugly sensation building within you would multiply tenfold easily. After a few rings the line clicked with an answer.

“Hello?” Maggie’s soft lilt came from the other line. She sounded a little less upset than when you last saw her but still tired nonetheless.

“Hey, Mags. It’s Y/n. Just wanted to see what you were up to. How’re you holdin’ up?” You tried to maintain an air of complete casualness. No ulterior motives to this call whatsoever. 

“Oh, hey! I uhm…I’m doing okay I guess. Trying not to let everything catch up to me all at once, y’know. It’s been hard…keeping what I can away from the girls. Marty just won’t quit it with trying to wear me down. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah…I told him to leave you be but he never was much of an avid listener. We may work together but just know I ain’t takin’ his side on all this.” You offered up and it was true. Marty may have been your coworker for several years now and something close to a decent friend but this wasn’t something you were gonna coddle him about. The consequences of his petty adultery were ones he had to deal with entirely on his own. 

“Thank you. You should try telling Rust that. Marty’s resorted to having him try to talk me down too, if you can believe it. Not that it worked or anything but I’m getting tired of feeling like I’m the one who should feel guilty for walking away when Marty decided to fuck it all up in the first place.” The woman’s tone grew a touch more frantic as her rant went more into detail but you stopped listening at the mention of Rust. 

Y’know, the one who was supposed to be thousands of miles away right now. 

“He got Rust to talk to you?” You interjected, only feeling a tiny pang of guilt for cutting in.

“Y-yeah. It uh…well it didn’t go to well. Y’know him. He didn’t try to blow smoke up Marty’s ass too much but he brought up the kids which more or less set me off. I said some harsh things but he just wouldn’t quit it with the whole ‘men and women don’t work' thing and 'our only purpose is reproduction’ or whatever bullshit spiel he had on his list of many-”

“When did this happen?” 

“Earlier today. We met at some diner but it didn’t last long with him walking out. I do feel bad for getting ahead of myself but…I don’t know. If you see him could you tell him I’m sorry? I don’t want things being more uncomfortable than they already are between all of us…” 

Ice started to spread like some nasty disease in your veins. The way your heart was stuttering out of rhythm had you grasping at your chest. You held the receiver between your ear and shoulder as your mind went blank at her simple confession. You didn’t know if what was actively consuming you was pure rage or a deep sense of betrayal. He had lied. They both lied. Like it was nothing. 

Why?

Forcing yourself to sound unaffected you spoke up again, “Sure, I can do that for you. I’m sure he ain’t too hung up on whatever it is you said so I wouldn’t beat myself up over it. Sometimes he oughta be put in his place for what he lets slip out of his mouth.”

“You’re probably right. Thank you, Y/n.”

“No problem. I’ll check in with you later alright, Mags?” Your chest was starting to rise and fall at a rapid pace. You needed to get out of here. 

“Alright, Y/n. Thank you again. Take care.” Was her warm reply before you set down the phone almost robotically. 

They had really fucking lied.

It was well into the night by the time you found yourself parked outside of Rust’s apartment. The throbbing in your skull had grown exponentially since your chat with Maggie and the muscle in your chest had yet to cease its sickening pace. It felt as if you were experiencing everything from outside of your body. As if you had no control over your limbs when you clambered out of your car and nearly slammed the door off its hinges. 

They wouldn’t lie to you like this. This was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be! You’d rather be angry for nothing than have the impending doom of betrayal strike you in a way that you felt would be irreversible. 

They just wouldn’t do that to you.

Raising a shaking fist and pounding on the door, it sounded like you were there to raid the damn place like it was police business. You attempted to steady your breathing but as your impatience grew you found yourself pounding again when there wasn’t a fast enough answer. Marty and Rust’s respective vehicles were both here so there was no chance of no one being home. 

Before you unleashed hell on the door once more it swung open to reveal a frazzled Marty. He stood there frozen, jaw opening and closing, visibly at a loss seeing your figure standing in the doorway. He looked ready to just about shit himself. 

“Y/n! W-what-”

“Now, I know you know I ain’t stupid. So if you’ve got somethin’ you’re hidin’, which I know you are, you best 'fess up now-”

“I-I don’t know what-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. I called Maggie. I know he's here.” You felt like some feral cat with its hackles rising by the minute. It was a rare occurrence to find yourself this upset.

“Y/n that ain’t-”

“If you have nothin’ you’re lyin’ about, if he's really not here then let me in.”

He opened his mouth only to be cut off, unsurprisingly, again. 

“Now, Martin.” 

The two of you stared at each other and Marty felt an unsettling sensation lick up his spine. There was no stopping you, especially not when you were like this. He must’ve hesitated for a hair too long because before he knew it you were slamming past the doorway, nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process.

The sight before you had you halting in the middle of your warpath. There stood Rust, still as a statue, looking like a full-blown tweakin’ asshole biker as if it were second nature to him. In the back of your mind, info from files about him being involved in undercover narcotics work for quite some time sparked recognition but you couldn’t seem to connect it with what was playing out right in front of you. All you knew was that something was obviously about to go down and they hadn’t even the slightest intention of making you aware. 

It felt like one devastating punch to the stomach. 

“What’s goin' on?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. It felt like your head was being held underwater as you stared down the man opposing you. 

No one made a move to answer. 

“I said what the fuck is goin' on.” Your tone grew stronger and both men had the nerve to look sorry at your state of distress. 

“We have a line on Ledoux.” Rust ground out, having a hard time connecting with your gaze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need the distraction nor your wrath towards his pathetically selfish reasonings for not letting you in on any of this. 

“And it just slipped your mind to give me the heads up? In case you might’ve forgotten I happen to work on this case with the both of you dipshits too. If there’s a tip towards that meth-head fuck then I’d think it’d be common knowledge that I oughta know too.” You snapped, venom bitterly coiled its way through you as the rage taking up space in your body had you hardly seeing straight.

“You didn’t need to be involved. It’s undercover work to get a way in with Ledoux. I don’t need both you and Marty to worry about when I’m dealing with-” 

“Oh, fuck you! Fuck you both! That ain’t for you to decide. I can handle my shit just fine. You're tellin' me you two can throw yourselves into whatever shady bullshit it is your plannin' that could have you killed but I have to sit back like the clueless fuckin' idiot? Make that make fuckin' sense!” You were up in his face shouting now and it infuriated you that he was rearing back like some spooked horse to avoid your anger. 

Fucking coward. 

“Underestimatin’ me like this makes you just as bad as the rest of them in the department. If you think I lack the capability for any of this then you be a man and take that up with me. You don’t make that idiot over there lie for you.” You grabbed firmly at the worn leather of his stupid jacket and he just took it. His heart was hammering and he suddenly felt ill. This was all going wrong and his mind couldn’t keep up. Nothing wanted to pass the threshold of his lips. 

Seeing that he wasn’t going to reply you let go, feeling sudden shame wash over you at your burst of hysteria. Your eyes were starting to burn intensely as the weight of the current circumstances started to settle down on you, making you take a few steps back.

You felt like nothing. It wasn’t an experience you were necessarily new to but having it come from them had you more blindsided than ever imaginable. All you could keep asking yourself was: why? Marty’s never doubted you or gone behind your back. He was one of the only ones who believed in you when you first started out as some newbie of an investigator. You’ve known him for nearly a decade and looking at his pitiful expression now only had you feeling disgusted.

Rust you couldn’t even bother to pick apart any further. You had the impression he respected you enough on the job but that had been debunked in nothing short of just a few hours. Where did he get off? You weren’t some burden who’d just weigh the whole process down with your implied inferiority. None of this was making any sense and your heaving shoulders failed to stop their jittering as you took in the room surrounding you. An old red toolbox sat on the carpeted floor between two lawn chairs with a few guns, random documents, drug baggies, and whatnot scattered around. A black satellite phone on the dining table’s surface caught your eye and a sharp exhale left your nose. Your eyes drifted back to Rust. The bated silence that had blanketed the room was unbearable to the two men. 

“Whether you like it or not you’ve earned yourself an extra set of eyes. I’m sure Marty can catch me up on everything on the way to Tweakersville since y’all tell each other everything now durin' your lil’ sleepovers.” You snatched a pistol from the floor and tucked it into your waistband before stepping out. 

“Dyin’ father in Anchorage…what a crock of shit…” Were your departing mumbles as you disappeared out the door.  It took everything in Marty’s being to not let out the pettiest of ‘I told you so’s’. 

Rust only moved to bring trembling fingers to check his pulse. 

The resulting car ride between you and Marty was deathly quiet as you stared out the window. You could tell he wanted to speak up but finding the right words wasn’t coming easy to him. It wasn’t until you pulled up to the shithole that passed as a dive bar that he worked up the courage to blurt out his defense.

“I didn’t wanna lie to you.” You just scoffed and shook your head wryly.

“Yet here we are.”

“What we’re doin’ ain’t necessarily legal-”

“So? It’s ain't like I’m sheltered from the ways of a dirty cop. I’ve done my fair share of shit over the years.” The skin around your nails was becoming raw at your incessant biting and Marty ignored the urge to swat your hands away from yourself. 

“This wasn’t done out of thinkin’ you weren’t capable. You have to know that.” 

“You can say that but I’m still havin’ a hard time workin’ out any other reason why you’d try to fuck me over like this.” You fixed him with a hard stare and he could only sigh. God, were you stubborn when you wanted to be. He needed to save his own skin on this one, Rust be damned. 

“Hon, Rust’s throwin’ himself back into some old gang mess for the sake of this case. Now, from the looks of it, I’d say he ain’t too keen on having to do it at all in the first place. I’m sure you’re aware of what working narcotics can do to the mind of a man for the minimal time he’s set to do it out on the field. Let alone what it could do one working at it for four years nonstop. The man nearly died doin’ all this shit on more than one occasion. Shootins...cartel torture. Which brings me to my next point.” Your partner watched you intently as if to make sure you were fully listening. 

You made no signs of ignoring him so he continued,

“I don’t know what’s goin' on between him and you, if there even is somethin' going on, but it shouldn’t be hard for you to imagine that he’s strugglin' with it a whole lot. It’s obvious he don’t know how to come to terms with most of what he’s feeling so it’s hard to determine just what the hell he’d do when it comes to being interested in a woman. Let alone you.”

“I fail to see what you’re gettin’ at.” You knew exactly what he was implying but childish insolence held priority.

“Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here. Perhaps out of everyone he’s encountered ever. You challenge his way of structure. All the Debby Downer bullshit he tells himself starts to lack any sense. Not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation. He may not admit that and you may not bother to believe it but that’s just what I see. You know I wouldn’t vouch for him on shit like this out of charity.” 

The words sank in deep as you ruminated over them. It made sense but out of pure stubbornness, you didn’t really want to acknowledge it right then and there. When you had a clearer head you could probably find yourself empathizing with Rust’s decisions but you felt like you did enough of that already when it came to any other screw-up of his. This instance cut deep for another reason. Your trust had been breached to an awful extent and it just wouldn’t work if you had to fear it happening again. Romantically or professionally. It wasn’t up to him to make these choices for you. Especially when it came down to your line of work. You couldn’t tolerate that type of interference. 

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Is what you settled on before turning to people watch out of your rolled-down window. 

“I really am sorry, Y/n.” He spoke up again but you were too worn out to accept anything else at the moment. Even if you knew he was being sincere.

You ignored the nagging in the back of your mind that things would likely go terribly wrong sometime tonight. It annoyed you that being as mad as you were you still had half the mind to pray Rust didn’t end up getting killed doing whatever it was he was doing with that gang leader Ginger. You'd be devastated, fight or no fight. Marty had tried assuring you this was all meant to be quick and easy but you didn’t believe it one bit. 

Minutes passed before you and Marty made your way to split up inside the bar. Marty wanted to keep an eye on Rust and you just wanted to make sure Marty didn’t do something stupid. It was safe to say he stuck out like a sore thumb in his bright Pink Floyd shirt and trucker hat amongst the throngs of burly, tatted bikers prowling about. Your expression remained neutral as you felt the number of greedy eyes growing on you while you slinked around. The music was too loud and the thick haze of smoke stung your eyes. The smell in here was more or less repulsive, having you fight the urge to wrinkle your burning nose in disgust. Rust didn’t seem to be anywhere around inside, meaning he was striking the ‘deal’ somewhere out back where the other hoards of folks were hanging around.

It didn’t take long for a commotion to rise up with the unfortunate cause of it being Marty. He was bumbling out apologies as some big oaf all but dragged him out of the bar with people hollering after him. You tried your best to briskly follow, making it out in time to see the man get thrown onto his ass. Miscalculating your gait you just about slammed into the scary man from behind at his sudden stop. 

Meaty hands yanked at your shirt and slammed your poor back into a post near the entrance. “Just what the fuck are you doin', bitch.” 

Trying not to gag at the state of his breath you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, “Was just tryin' to leave so you can get right up off me-”

The man shoved you again and took his huge mitt of a hand to your throat, “You and your punk ass friend don’t belong sniffin’ 'round here.”

“I don’t know that son of a bitch so fuckin' let go!-” A burst of stars entered your vision as his fist nearly sent you sailing down the old wooden ramp. A boot or two kicked at your curled-up figure, catching you in the ribs and stomach a few times. One even clocked you in the jaw and you hoped you’d still have teeth left if you were lucky enough to make it out. Heavy footsteps boomed against the growing crowd’s uproar and your adrenaline kicked itself up a few notches. The giant's paws cleared the way and jerked you up again, the force of it having your feet leave the ground for a split second. You were struck again, then once more before your hand fumbled behind your back and got a good grip on the pistol in your jeans. 

Cold metal jabbed into the grand protrusion that was his belly and it had him stilling almost immediately. 

“Unless you want a bullet or two in your fatass gut, I suggest you let me go.” You spat.

When you didn’t get an answer fast enough, the cocking of the gun’s hammer sure as hell had him dropping you fast. As soon as he did you smacked him across the face with the butt of it and sent him to his knees. A naive soul or two began to make a move but you were quicker in aiming the gun at them in warning. Blood from your nose leaked like a faucet into your gaping mouth as you struggled for air. They sure managed to get you good. The growing pain you felt all over attested to that fact. 

Once you were sure no one else would pounce, you spit on the big man and backed away with your gun in the air. You nudged Marty with your boot to make him get the hell up before you two booked it back to the car. According to him, Rust got roped into going down the Bayou with Ginger so you two had to make it out quick.

So much for quick and easy. 

You couldn’t even bother to check the time as you sat reclined in the car to wait for Rust’s signal. Marty parked at some mostly empty lot near a grocery mart and scurried inside to grab you a few things. The bag of frozen peas didn’t do much for your rapidly swelling eye or aching jaw. Your nose didn’t seem to be too broken but with all its nerves it made no difference in hurting like a bitch. The bleeding from both your nostrils and mouth had started to clot thankfully but you still sat wheezing from your abused ribs. 

“So much for being able to fuckin' handle yourself.” Marty huffed as he flipped through a tattered copy of Rust’s Nietzche. What was intended as a laugh came out as a wet rattle instead, making the blonde look at you in alarm.

“He let go of me, didn’t he? Not like you were much use.” Your tongue rolled around in the space of your mouth, forgoing the taste of copper in making sure none of your pearly whites were at risk of falling out. 

“How’re you gonna explain this at work?”

“I dunno. I’ll say I took a tumble down my staircase or somethin’. Who cares.” It was likely your lazy nonchalance was the result of a possible concussion. It was getting harder to keep yourself awake as you two were made to wait patiently. 

“Oh yeah. Casual tumble down the stairs. Makes perfect fuckin’ sense-” Marty’s bickering was cut off by the satellite phone’s sudden shrill ringing. You both shot up, adrenaline entering your systems once more, before he hurried to answer it. You could faintly hear a shouted line of demands before Marty confirmed what he heard and peeled off toward the location Rust had given him. You willed your hands to steady as you fumbled with the map you pulled from the glove compartment, making sure you weren’t going the wrong way.

The ninety seconds Rust gave was more like an eternity before you skirted up to the neighborhood that felt like an active warzone. As he was nearing the vehicle with a stumbling man in his clutches, who you assumed was Ginger, you leaped out of the car to open up the back and usher them in. You raised your pistol in a one-handed grip, keeping the other on the door as they stumbled inside. There was shouting from figures out following in the distance and gunfire that was making its way closer and closer. When they found themselves situated you slammed the car door shut and sent off a warning shot or two to keep the approaching group away. Responding bullets were your only answer, having you all but swing back into the passenger’s seat as they whizzed past you. Only one had managed to skim past your ear in sheer dumb luck, leaving your ear ringing something awful. 

With you safely inside, Marty sped off again at Rust’s sharp command. You couldn’t really hear their yelling over the pounding of your heart and the fact your right ear seemed to be temporarily out of commission from the narrowly missed bullet. 

You couldn’t dwell too much on the fact that with an inch difference it would’ve been your head. 

Hours later, daylight agitated your vision as you waited in the new setting that was Rust’s truck. After seeing the state you were in he all but hauled you with him to wherever he planned on taking Ginger, declaring he had some first aid kit he’d need to use on you. You didn’t bother putting up much of a fight when he ordered you to wait in the truck outside of the diner you stopped at after patching you up in the limited capacity he was able to. You were just too exhausted. You hadn’t even mustered the curiosity to get a good look at Ginger tied up in the back as you had driven. Probably safer that he didn’t get a good look at you anyway. 

Rust’s plan b with Dewall didn’t seem to pan out too well either as he came back to the truck with a deep-set scowl. Shoving Ginger back into place all bound up before climbing in up front. There was still hope that Marty would successfully trail the cook to wherever his hideout may be but Rust’s silence was conceringly heavy. Though, now wasn’t the time or the place to get into it with him all over again. You must’ve dozed off somewhere during the ride because when you opened your eyes, well eye…the other having swelled completely shut by now, you were pulled over on some trail. Rust just sat staring out at the scenery, more than likely lost in a swirl of his own thoughts, taking a moment to collect himself. Ginger's form was long gone from the back. 

At the sound of you rustling in your spot, he merely glanced your way before looking away again. There was a tick in his jaw that didn’t escape you and you sighed knowing you’d have to be the one to buck up first. 

“It looks worse than it feels.” Lie. Even the scratchy croak of your voice called you out on it.

“I didn’t want you here for a reason. What good is it if you wind up dead-"

“What you want isn’t always what you get. Next time don't take me for some fool-” 

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid-”

“And don’t you talk to me like you’ve lost your goddamn mind just cause of your pride,” You nearly thundered as you stared him down, “What happened, happened. It’s over. We pulled through with your wild-ass cowboy mission. Your panties can untwist now.”

A warm hand came to grip at your ribs, not violently, but firm enough to prove his point when the pain from your bruising nearly blinded you. Your own hand snapped up to grip at his arm as if playing a fucked up game of chicken. Who would break first? You’d be damned if it were you. Though the look in the man’s eyes had you faltering. You’d seen it before. That deep-rooted fear that bled out against his own will when it came to you more often than not. It seemed to hit him harder now that he was getting a good look at your battered and bloodied face in the afternoon light. Marty’s words from earlier felt mocking as they rang in your head. 

Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here...not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation.

The idea of anything with you made him scared. Scared for you and scared for himself.

“Why did you lie to me? Truly.” Your voice fell quiet, the fight in you left just as quickly as it had found you. 

He just blinked before letting his hand drop from you, however, yours stayed on him, “You’re a smart girl. You can work it out for yourself I’m sure.” He almost sounded sardonic.

“Maybe. But I’d like to hear it from you.” It might’ve been foolish to expect confessions of pure honesty from him but you’d keep giving him that option should he ever choose. 

When he said nothing you brushed a knuckle beneath his eye then across his sharp cheekbone. His tired eyes fought themselves from fluttering, trying not to let your touch utterly consume him whole. It proved to be even harder when your thumb swept feather-light over his chapped bottom lip before retreating completely.  

“Anything can happen, y'know. Anywhere, anytime. If you find yourself fearful of that fact pertainin’ to me then you need to let it go. If the idea of this,” You made a small gesture between you both, “is too much for you or you’ve realized you don’t want it anymore then that’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can handle just about anything. Your sanity and the sake of our professional partnership hold more priority over my whims. I don’t want my existence scarin' you to where it creates this big rift or you go to these dumb lengths to push me away.” 

Those long fingers of his fiddled with the ends of your hair, grounding himself with what little contact he was able to allow himself in the moment. He was still undecided on what he wanted to do with you. What he wanted to be with you. The paleness of his skin covered by the sheen layer of sweat from the comedown of whatever he likely took in the company of Ginger had him looking gaunt. Aged even. He found himself drifting between somewhere far away and being present here with you.

“This can’t happen again, Rust. Whether we’re something or not. Especially if we find ourselves workin’ together for however long down the road. It won’t work for me no matter the circumstance. Best believe I’ll be firm on that.” You flicked at this chin lightly, hoping some of the damage from the last twenty-four hours could be undone. 

“I’m-...I’m sorry.” Came the only remaining thing that could sound from his throat. And you’d take it for now. 

“I’ll get over it. Eventually. It might be a tall order but you need to get in the business of regulatin’ how you respond to your own emotions more.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” His final response was slightly choked but he didn’t give much else away after that. Sniffling, you leaned to the side on the truck's leather bench seat to rest your head on his shoulder once he twisted forward to face the wheel. An arm circled around your frame, his large hand finding purchase in your hair and you let yourself go for a moment as the truck began to roll forward. 

You continued down the path in a more comfortable silence where Marty would be waiting for you at the end to scout for Ledoux’s hideout. Soon this could all hopefully be over and done with. What would come after, though, you hadn’t the slightest clue.

a/n: forgive me, babes. they'll be happier (until 02). thanks for reading! i'll probably go back and edit this a bunch of times bc i'm neurotic like that!

[2demondogs]

You Could Do Anything | Kieran/Reader

Tags: Love confession in his own bittersweet way, first kiss, shotgunning, gender-neutral reader Word Count: 1k A/N: Quick fill for Kinktober. It is SFW tho. Stream Blew.

Kieran bummed enough cigarettes off of you the past week that you bought him his own pack. He acted like you'd gave him a lock of your hair, grinning big and dumb. Lucky cigarettes were a new concept to him, and he insisted you turn the first one because it feels like it means somethin'.

"Two luckies," he said. "Makes us twice as lucky!"

Nevermind that they weren't so much for luck as a promise, or that no one had ever made him that promise before.

Maybe it does mean something.

That sweet boy seems far away, now. It's late, sure, and you've met him on the riverbank outside the Outlook more than once in the past week — so clearly he isn't sleeping too well.

"Sometimes I wonder why I keep on livin'," Kieran is saying, flicks the built-up ash off his cigarette and onto the grass and sand between his boots. His knees are curled up to his chest, resting easily in the arm that curls around his shins yet still pressed protectively over his vitals. "'S like life wants me to find somethin'... go somewhere."

For his difficulty finding them, he's awful fine with words when he wants to be. You can tell he's been thinking more lately, running the same-old, same-old through his head over and over in a way unlike himself.

You accept it when he offers you the smoke, the man watching the moon cast shadows over your form as you take a drag. His eyes sting the skin of your hand and cheek, burning with the need to express... something.

Normally, his emotions are easy to read from his face. Kieran has been through so much, yet he never has learned how to hide. Or maybe he has always trusted you in some pre-destined way that neither of you cared to resist, and you've learned his language on accident; either way, all you can see in the twitching of his mouth and eyes is uncertainty.

"What do you think that is?" You ask, handing the cigarette back. His fingers linger.

"Dunno," he admits, sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. It sounds like a lie. He looks over the water, the ripples drawn on the surface by rascal fish every now and then, and you follow his gaze. "Jus' seems funny, lookin' back. Ma 'n' Pa die, but I don't? Then everyone else keeps dyin', 'n' I don't. Not even when Arthur had me at the wrong end of his barrel." He makes a face, glances around as if checking that every rock is in the same place as a few seconds ago. "Gotta be some— purpose 'bout me."

You nod, pressing a thumb to your lips. "I think there is," you say after a moment. What you really want to say is: you've got something good inside you, Kieran, something unsoiled.

Kieran goes quiet with the cigarette perched between his lips and you fear scaring him off with that intensity. Smoke comes out of his nostrils with each breath. You're somewhat impressed that he can already handle so much tobacco in and out at once. He told you never smoked much, too broke to buy and too unliked to bum.

Watching his face again instead of the night, his eyes look tired, bagged heavily. You want nothing more than to reach out and touch his hair, to smooth your hand down his freckled neck and bring his head to your chest.

Something about him always triggers this instinct to protect. He can hold his own, but does he really deserve to need to?

What is—

Shit, what is love if not this overwhelming need to carry the weight for someone else?

Kieran turns as you're studying him, his face flickering through a reel of feelings before settling on one familiar, yet unnamed. He opens his mouth and plucks the smoke from his lips in one smooth movement, then pauses before speaking; green eyes glaze over with sudden inhibition looking at yours, then break away to study his own fingers and how they hold the orange filter of the cigarette.

"Thinking so hard you forgot what it was?" You tease, brows raised.

His laughter is nervous, cheeks rosy as you lean in closer. He glances up. "Thinkin' was gettin' hard, in fact," he says, takes a drag and rubs the back of his neck.

Ash falls as he does it, and you reach over to brush it off the back of his coat. It happens as quickly as the gray stuff fell and smeared its mark down the dark fabric beneath your fingertips: his hand loops around your wrist and he breaths hard before he is breathing you, those exhausted eyes softened with affection and inches from your own, wide with amused surprise.

Heat finds your face even before he quickly takes another drag — to boost his confidence, probably not even thinking it through — and smoke is half-exhaled into your mouth as his presses to yours in a sloppy attempt at shotgunning you a suave first kiss. Your spine itches with the gesture, as poorly executed as it is.

Yanking his hand towards you by your captured wrist, you grab his scruffy jaw in the other to keep him close. He tastes like tobacco and something metallic; he needs to eat more, tastes like empty. Lips part and brush as you retreat enough to let the smoke wisp from between your faces, lashes tickling each other.

The cigarette falls to the ground, his eyes roaming over your face in a near-panicky search. Kieran is looking at you like he's just killed you and doesn't know what to do with the body — he seems to have used all his confidence in one fell swoop, the air tangible with how his brain flounders as you press a second, short kiss to his lips.

"I— I think..." he begins, voice shakey with the sheer force behind it. He leans back, clears his throat and takes another hard breath. "Think you're part of it. That somethin'. You know?"

Your chest feels squeezed. "Yes," you say. "I do know."

[msfantasy-anime]

Shut Up

Kaido x Reader

Summary: Kaido and Y/n breakup.

A/n: Heavily based on the song Shut Up by Black Eye Peas

“Girl, our love is dyin' Why did you stop tryin'?” Kaido sobs and slurs drunkenly making you sigh in resignation. This conversation feels like it’s on repeat.

Sometime ago you met Kaido and fell deeply in love with him. He was strong, kind and exhilarating. His love was intoxicating and so was the picturesque image he built up in your head on being the perfect family. Just the three of you, together.

Ever since you met Yamato, the cracks slowly started to form in the image in which you use to behold Kaido. You started to slowly see the reality on who your partner really was.

He wasn’t strong, he was imposing and authoritative.

He wasn’t kind, he was controlling and manipulative.

He wasn’t exhilarating, he was erratic and unpredictable.

He wasn’t a loving dedicated father, he was controlling and abusive.

But in your desperation to save the future you desperately wanted, you tried your hardest to hold onto the honeymoon period with Kaido and raise Yamato with the love she deserved. You spent countless hours counselling Kaido on how to be a better father and a better partner.

And as the saying goes, you can’t help those who won’t help themselves.

You’d both get caught in screaming matches over anything and everything or at least, that’s how it feels.

It wasn’t until the annexing of Wano, had you finally come to terms with the reality.

He continues to be an elusive partner.

He continues to be an absent father.

In addition, he’s now a cruel leader over what use to be a happy nation.

You soon realised that the situation wasn’t going to improve. All of the root issues in your relationship stems from Kaido not shaping up to be the better version you’re trying to push him to be. He won’t change, and you can’t make him change.

Truth be told, he was never the person you thought he was.

“I never been a quitter, But I do deserve better.” You answer, slugging your full backpack over your should attempting to walk off only for Kaido to snatch the bag, holding you in place.

“Believe me I will do better. Let's forget the past and start this new plan.” Kaido begins to sputter and all empty promises, just like he always does.

“Why? 'Cause it's the same old routine and then next week we just scream about the same thing.” You retort with frustration.

“I know you're tired of the things I say-“

“You're damn right 'Cause I heard them lame damn empty promises just yesterday.” You scream.

“That was a different thing.” Kaido defends.

“No, it ain't.”

“That was a different thing” Kaido pleads desperately, seeing your unwavering stance.

“No, it ain't”.

“That was a different thing!” Kaido asserts angrily which blows your fuse at his naivety.

“It was the same damn thing, same ass excuse! This conversation is useless!” You turn for the final time, you back facing the man you believed held your world. Now a crumbling, weepy mess.

Without uttering another word, you leave, quickly dashing out through the door.

“You’ll be back!” He exclaims, more as a delusional claim to comfort himself, rather than the ugly truth.

You see Yamato at the bottom of the stairs, pools of tears running down her face. “Please don’t leave.”

Your heart tugs painfully.

You did consider staying for no one else but Yamato, but there is really no helping it. For your own sake and your own sanity, you must leave.

“I’m sorry sweetie, I have to go. But!” You say, pressing a torn piece of paper into Yamatos palm. “Take this, you’ll know what to do when you are older. You’ll always have a home with me okay?” You whisper, holding Yamato tightly one last time. “I’m sorry.”

Yamato nods bravely. “Safe travels Y/n, I’ll see you soon.”

[rinhaler]

In The World My Demons Cultivate

“Why do you miss me?” he breathes again, your voice hitches at the thought of explaining yourself so intimately. So desperately. You won’t be able to stop him from judging you or mocking you for being so weak, and still, you do as he asks.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ghost!toji fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: angst Notes: cried so much writing this oof Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, no smut, dead character (obviously), mental heatlh struggles, suicide ideation, grief/loss, drug abuse, pet names. Words: 3k

Does it ever stop?

“No, not really,” he answers.

You look up, seeing a familiar face, a familiar scar. One that you haven’t seen for a long, long time. It makes you laugh. You’re giggling like a little girl as you look at him. And he’s looking at you, too. A missing memory that you’ve blotted out every single day for as long as you can remember.

How old were you?

How old are you?

It doesn’t matter, you suppose. In the grand scheme of things nothing really matters to you or anyone else. You don’t matter and no one else does, either. You’re just another set of lungs tarring them with filth at the end of the day.

You quit, you did.

You really tried to quit.

But it’s the only thing that makes you stop thinking about your miserable fucking life for a few hours until you pass out and have to live it all over again. Everyday is the same. How do people live like this every single day until they die?

How do people pretend they aren’t suffering when they are?

They are.

You are.

“Can you read my mind, Toji?” you laugh.

He nods. And he notes how your eyes instantly flutter closed when he places a hand on your bare shoulder. It’s been too long since you’ve been touched.

Held.

Loved.

He knows you better than you know yourself. He’s always been like that. You’ve never been able to keep a secret because he’ll get it out of you one way or another. You’ll crack under the pressure of a stare so intense it could turn mere rock to diamonds, the power of glorious green eyes over your fragile mind.

That or you’ll tell him of your own volition.

Does he really possess the power to read your mind? Is that why you love him, so unequivocally? Through all of your faults, he’s here. Through all of his, you love him, still.

You smile.

“I wish I was dead.” you grin, but his face is stoic.

“You said that out loud.” he hisses. You mewl, and it’s gentle, as he runs his fingers through messy, unwashed hair. You’re like a cat, eyes closed and purring for him as you rest your head on his thigh. “Don’t joke about dyin’, sweetheart.”

You didn’t think he’d come, no matter how hard you wished for it. You hadn’t thought he’d show up just for you. And yet, here he is, with his back pressed against your headboard and a deep rumble in his lungs with every heavy intake of exhausted breath.

Like it’s hard.

Hard to breathe or hard to be with you, you don’t know. You don’t want to know, either. He’s here, that’s all that matters now. Things feel good again, normal.

“When did you get here?” you wonder, your voice is barely above a whisper as you speak. Eyes still closed so delicately; he can see the way your eyes are trying to explore your bedroom despite them being shut. He likes that about you, that your mind can never switch off.

But he hates it, too.

He’s not alone in that.

“I’ve been here the whole time, baby.”

Did you forget? Have you misremembered because you’re so fucking stoned? It’s possible, but unlikely. And still, you don’t question it. The warmth of his hand on the crown of your head, the pudgy but sturdy flesh of his thighs beneath your cheek are enough.

You don’t need answers, not now.

The blue light from your laptop flickers and blinds you as the same trailer that Netflix has been repeating for hours now continues to loop and loop. It should be driving you mad, but it isn’t. It’s inaudible to you, especially now.

A heartbeat fills your ears and ricochets between the four walls of your bedroom. The vociferous beating might deafen you if you don’t clear your mind of it, if you don’t speak you might succumb to the burden of it.

“I’ve missed you.” you whimper.

His hand freezes, tongue drying in his mouth before turning into sand he’ll surely choke on. He swallows, and it’s loud. A cartoonish gulp as he hears the sorrow in your words, a meek cry for help that you wouldn’t dare admit to. You couldn’t do that to him, not really, not right now.

“I know.” he sighs.

“I’m so…” you start, your voice fading away as you contemplate keeping your words to yourself. He isn’t the type to care, is he? He hasn’t missed you, anyway. Or at least he didn’t say it, which, to you, surmounts to the same conclusion.

You aren’t missed, not by him.

Neither of you speak, but his fingers resume soothing your scalp. He won’t say he’s missed you. He won’t tell you anything you want to hear; he isn’t like that.

Could it be that he can’t, rather than won’t? It’s trite, burrowing your head between each word and letter he’s spoken and hasn’t spoken. Searching for some double meaning in the words he chooses instead of just some meaning.

Any meaning.

What does it mean to find purpose or reason at a time like this?

It won’t help and it won’t change things. You’ve long accepted that things don’t change for the better. They change, things certainly change. But not for the better. Or maybe they do, for other people.

Not you.

Never you.

“You’re so loud.” he mutters, prompting you to roll over to face him. He looks down at you, it isn’t patronising. It’s generic, which might be worse. There’s no feeling with him, in him, from him. At least if he was patronising you he’d feel something for you.

He’s felt nothing for so long.

You wonder if he ever felt something for you.

“I didn’t say anything.” you tell him.

He does nothing except poke his index finger into your exposed temple, and for some reason, it urges you to smile for him. It’s been so long since you smiled because you wanted to, not because you were forced out of sheer obligation.

That’s why you don’t mind, or rather, prefer being home with nothing but Netflix trailers playing on continuous loop for hours and hours on end while you get so high you scare yourself stupid until you pass out.

It’s a disgusting habit that you can’t rid yourself of.

It’s your only comfort. Your only solace from how downright devastating and pathetic your wretched life truly is.

Nobody expects anything of you when you’re home alone.

“You think too loud,” he starts, the force of his pointed finger becomes deeper but soon leaves completely. Your skin feels colder, right after. Like losing an extra layer of clothing despite being in a warm enough room, you miss the feeling regardless. “You gotta stop.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes again.

“I can’t help it, there’s too much to think about.” you breathe.

The thought of him disappearing into the night never to be seen again, it horrifies you, and it’s at the forefront of your mind. He’s been gone for so long now, you’re sure. He lied, though you aren’t surprised in the least. He’s always been a liar that still possess the ability to have you hanging on his every word.

If you talk, you’re scared he’ll leave. Though he can hear your thoughts, or so he claims.

Again, he’s a liar. If that were true he would have left by now. If he knew how pathetic and desperate your reeling mind sounded he’d have run off and done exactly what you’re worried about him doing.

“You’re so hurt up here, baby,” he tells you, words hushed and secretive as he strokes his thumb across your forehead like you’re precious. Like you’re brittle enough to turn to dust if he applies too much strain. “Aren’t you?”

A sob leaves your throat, and you want the world to swallow you up right then. Tears begin to pour from watery eyes and soak into the material of his trousers before you even think about answering. You do, though. Because you want to, not because he’s making you. You nod, an uncomfortable beat of sniffling silence goes by before you utter a word.

“I wasn’t j-joking.” you start, “I don’t want to be here.” your voice cracks as you speak, the notion of your words and the burden on them weigh down on you enough to make you dizzy and sickly.

He shushes you, not because he wants you to stop talking, but he wants you to stop working yourself up into a nauseated stupor.

“Why?”

“Because I miss you, Toji.” you sit upright, your temperature feels like it drops below freezing when you part from him fully. He pulls you backwards, into his arms before you’re both lying side by side. His chin rests atop your head while you play with your hair, too choked up to say another word.

He doesn’t say it back, again.

But maybe him holding you like this is his way of saying it.

“I don’t know what you mean.” he tells you. His voice is quiet as he speaks into your hair, but you hear him clear enough. You want to argue, but you can’t. The room spins and it feels like you’re floating. Everything mirrors over what feels like hours. Furniture isn’t where you remember it being and you don’t feel like you’re in the right body anymore.

Is he here with you?

You feel a squeeze.

You don’t know what’s happening, anymore.

Those hours that passed were barely a minute. His face is nuzzled into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and his breath is mystifying against your skin. Every huff is like ice and you feel the way your skin clusters and rises in uneven bumps as it tries to preserve any remaining warmth lingering through your body.

“You can tell me, without telling me.” he explains, though you don’t really follow. His arms tighten around you again before releasing you slightly, slowly, enough for you to wriggle around in his hold if you choose to. You don’t. You’re completely still, digesting his words. “I’ll hear you, no matter what.”

“I don’t know what to say, Toji… I, I really don’t.”

“Why do you miss me?” he breathes again, your voice hitches at the thought of explaining yourself so intimately. So desperately. You won’t be able to stop him from judging you or mocking you for being so weak, and still, you do as he asks.

Not because he told you to, no. You’d do it anyway. You do it every single day when given the opportunity to dwell. All he can do is hold you as buckle under the lofty ideals and pressurizing weight of your spoiled existence.

I miss how I felt with you. I miss how life felt worth living each day because there was so much to do with you. Nothing felt impossible, everything is impossible, now. Even small things that are simple for others, aren’t for me. Things felt new and exciting, I’m too tired of everything now. Food seemed more appetizing with you, everything tastes worse now.

Things are meant to get better, easier. People say that but I feel the same as I always have. It fluctuates, there are ebbs and flows but ultimately I’m always going to be sad. My skin feels worse and my body doesn’t belong to me anymore. I don’t want to be in it, I don’t want to be attached to the skin and bones that are meant to be mine. They aren’t. They were never meant to be mine. I’m wasting the oxygen in my lungs, I’m rotting.

Everyday is the same.

I only rot and wither.

I’m lonely and unsatisfied. Nothing makes me happy because I don’t have you. No lover will compare. No meal will stave away the starving pangs I feel in my stomach. No drink will be cold enough to quench my thirst in the beastly summers and none will be hot enough to warm my bones in the bitter winter.

I’m wholly unsatisfied.

People do great things. Not me. I don’t doubt people would miss me if I died, but I don’t really care. It’s selfish, but I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I miss you, I miss you more than I’d ever be missed. I mourn your life, a life that isn’t mine, more than I will ever mourn my own. Every breath I take feels like a theft. I’m stealing the air and lung capacity of someone greater than myself, someone worthy.

I’m worthless.

I speak sentences no one cares about, not like you do. No one will ever care about me like you do, and you don’t even miss me. I wouldn’t, either, I suppose. Any words I say, poetry I write, canvas I paint, is worthless. I am a burden in people’s eyes, my creations aren’t worth viewing, my point of view isn’t worth seeing, I’m worthless.

I am worthless, Toji.

Do you think I am? Maybe if things were different, maybe if I didn’t miss you so much, I wouldn’t feel like this. I wouldn’t feel burdened by a life lost and squandered that I will never be able to know the way I so desperately crave. It’s my fault, I know. I love you and I want you back but I’ve lost you forever.

What I have now, my miserable little life, is what I will have forever. A true burden, a hinderance, a stain. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t. How am I expected to live a life I’m so depressed by for the sake of others. So I don’t make my family or friends sad. It’s selfish, I’m selfish, I’m finding it hard to care as each day passes.

I’d rather be with you, now.

Things don’t get better, I won’t get better.

I know my thoughts are loud, my thoughts are exhausting and it’s hard to hear or think clearly like this. But if I’m with you, it’ll stop.

I don’t want to miss you anymore.

I don’t want to be lonely anymore.

No one loves me the way I need to be loved; but I don’t know how to ask for it.

You sit bolt upright, breathless before running to the bathroom. You’re panting and your mouth feels warm and icky from the taste of swallowed tears. Though your face still shines under the bathroom light from them. You don’t have a glass, you bend over and drink water directly from the tap as you try and regain your composure.

He’s staring at you from his spot on the bed as you gasp and devour each droplet you can. It coats your tongue and bulges through your throat as you take heartier gulps than you had any business taking.

But soon enough, you’re back in his arms as you try and calm yourself down. You’re always tired, but now, after that, you’re exhausted. You wonder if he really did hear you or if he lied to you. It doesn’t matter you suppose. There’s nothing you can do to make him miss you too. There’s nothing you can do to force him back to you.

He’s gone.

For good.

“Why are you still here?” he asks you. Your eyes open, only a little, wondering if you heard him right. “If you were serious, if you weren’t joking, why?”

“… I’m scared,” you admit. “I wasn’t joking… but I am scared. And I know… I know people love me, I know people care about me. It doesn’t feel like enough, it never has and I don’t think it ever will. But… it’s something.”

“Why are you scared?” he continues.

“I— I don’t think things will get better.” you confess. “But what if… they do?”

You don’t see the way he smiles when he hears you speak. When he hears that resilience in your words. You’re hurting, you’re struggling. And still you’re here. You’re trying, your fighting. You’re hoping.

Things might not get better. But what if they do?

One day you might remember why your favourite foods are your favourite foods again. The TV shows and films you love might feel warm and familiar again. There could be someone, anyone, waiting to find you so you can share these things with them, too.

Things could change.

People might listen to your thoughts and care about them. The words you write might matter to someone. The paintings you create might be worlds people fantasize living in as they hang on their walls.

Someone might love you the way you need to be loved, without you knowing how to ask for that brand of love.

Toji misses you, he mourns you, too. But you understand, now. He doesn’t want to hold you back anymore. He doesn’t want you to keep suffering because of him. Because you miss him.

So, you’ll always miss him, there won’t be a day you won’t think about him.

But if there’s a chance, however small, that things might change, he wants you to take it.

“Goodnight, baby.” he hums. “… Princess? I’m proud. I'm proud of you.”

It warms your body to hear him say it. It’s a little embarrassing, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s words, maybe it’s lip service, but you made someone proud. And you sleep peacefully with that knowledge.

Daybreaks through the window, bright and invasive enough to break you from your sleep. You fell asleep above the covers, you aren’t being held anymore. There’s no noise in your apartment, there’s no signs of life besides your own beating heart.

Maybe it was like that the whole time.

--

© 2024 rinhaler

[chamomiletealeaf]

Sweet as Pie

Chapter 4

The willow tree was the biggest Simon had ever seen. It's long branches and leaves swayed in the light breeze and he found himself staring at it, admiring it in its grandeur.

"Pretty, i'n it?" You ask him, standing with him in front of the tree.

Not as pretty as you He thought.

"Gorgeous." Simon said, but he meant it more towards you than the tree.

"C'mon, come sit." You urged him along, as you moved the willow's leaves out the way, and you disappeared behind them.

He followed you and sat in the shade of the tree, wrapped and hidden away by the Weeping Willow, facing the lake. It was truly such a calming and beautiful sight. But yet again, Simon just couldn't focus on anything other than you and how your hair reminded him of the branches of the tree, just falling so gracefully and perfectly.

"I sit here a lot when I need somewhere quiet away from the house." You tell him with a smile as you stare at the lake, the both of you sitting against the tree's trunk.

"Y'know, I think there's some kind of magic in this tree." You continue. "No matter what could be goin' on, the world could be endin' and yet this tree will stay it's same, quiet self. And anything hidden behind it's leaves is immune to anything outside of them. It's like... A force field. A safety net. Everything, all the noise and bad things, just get left outside when you walk behind this wall of leaves."

"Feels that way." Simon responded. "You seem to know this place really well. You been here a while?" He asks.

"Been here all my life. House was my auntie's. One day she told me: 'y/n? When I'm dead an' gone this place gon' be yours. Keep it alive for me.' That's why I keep so many plants in it. To keep the life in that house my auntie always had. Treat em' like my babies." You confessed.

"I can see that." Simon joked, referring to not too long ago when he saw you dancing and taking care of them.

You laughed, and surprisingly, so did he.

"So what about you?" You asked, shifting the conversation.

"What is a handsome man like you doin' all the way out here alone?" You teased as you nudged his shoulder, a boldness taking over you.

Handsome? She thinks I'm handsome? Simon thought, and that damned blush he hated made it's way back onto his face for the umpteenth time.

"Military." He answered. "My best friend in my Task Force nearly died by a shot to the temple. I never thought my life meant anything which is why I dedicated it to the military but when I almost lost him, it was a wake up call. I realized I had something to live for, and I knew I shouldn't take life for granted so I wanted to try and do something for myself."

You looked at him with sympathy, listening to him intently.

"So, I bought that house to at least get a breath of air before I take my last. To experience something good for once."

Simon was shocked with how much he let slip out, but for some reason, he felt like he could trust you with his life.

"I'm sorry about your friend. I'm glad he's ok." You comfort him. "That must've been real scary. But I'm glad you're doin' something good for yourself. You deserve it. I'm sure he's happy for you too." You punctuated your sentence with a smile, and Simon smiled back.

You both sat there under the willow tree getting to know each other until the sun was just beginning to set.

"Simon?" You ask him.

"Hm." He answers.

"Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?" You ask softly and hopefully, and Simon's brain short circuits. Were you... actually interested in a man like him? Or maybe you were just being friendly.

"I'd love that." He says.

You smile at him again as you begin to stand up.

"Well, hope you like Shepherd's pie, sugar, cuz' i've been dyin' to bust out the ol' recipe for it." You brush off your cardigan and wrap it around yourself.

Simon stands up and brushed himself off, flattered that you want to cook for him. You were too sweet to him, and he wondered what he ever did in his life or past one to deserve the company of you.

"That sounds lovely." He smiles down at you and the both of you make your way back to your house.

As you two enter your little yellow house, Simon admires how nice it is. He looks at all your well-loved plants and the little trinkets adorning your shelves. He looks at your patterned furniture in the living room and notices a really old looking white wooden rocking chair with the paint peeling off of it in the corner. In it sat a dark green wool knit blanket. It looked so warm and comfortable, and he wondered how it felt compared to his old black and navy blue bedding.

"Well, here it is. This is home." You say proudly, closing the front door behind you two.

"It's lovely." He says, still looking at the blanket and rocking chair.

You notice him staring at it and take note of his curiosity.

"That's aunties old rocking chair. Been in the family for years. She used to sit in it and knit me all kinds of clothes. Now I sit in it and knit too. Made that there blanket myself." You tell him, gesturing to it.

"You made that?" He asks in shock. It was a huge blanket, and it looked so well made. Of course you made something so perfect like that. What couldn't you do?

"Yeah" You beam up at him. "Here." You say, and go to grab it from the rocking chair. You bring it back to him and wrap it around his shoulders.

"There you go hun'. It's yours." You say and wink at him.

He goes to take the blanket off his shoulders in protest.

"Oh no I, I can't take this you must have spent so much time on it."

"Oh please that's nothin', I saw the few boxes you brought into that house of yours, you ain't never gonna find yourself a nice blanket like this one. Trust me." You joke to reassure him as you grab his wrists to stop his movements and you wrap the blanket back around his shoulders.

Did she just, grab my wrists? Simon thought, the action taking him off guard and he felt heat run through his body that wasn't from the blanket.

Fuck stop stop stop don't blush He told to himself, or more to the blood rushing to his face.

"It's your color anyway." You say, taking a step back to look how the dark color brought out the brown of his eyes. Were his eyes always such a pretty, rich, honey color?

"Come on an' sit at the table while I get this started." You tell him, and he secretly liked how assertive you were. You wanted to take care of him, which is something Simon never experienced before. It made his heart melt.

He watched you cook for him and how you hushed him when he offered to help, and he felt a smile creep it's way onto his face. There was something so... intimate about what you were doing for him.

"You sure you don't want me to help?" He asked again.

"Oh hush now with all that, you just sit there and look pretty while I fix this up for you. Excited for you to try it. Haven't made this in forever." You tell him with a smile.

His heart jumped once again at your coddling, calling him pretty this time. God he was gonna have to make a list of all the sweet things you called him to remember them all for the nights he's feeling lonely. Or maybe, you would be there to tell him directly.

You placed a plate of shepherd's pie down in front of Simon and one for you across from him. You then set out two glasses and went to the fridge to take out a pitcher of iced tea. With a mischievous smile, you poured some into both glasses and sat down. Little did Simon know, he was gonna taste the sweetest, most tooth rotting iced tea he's ever gonna have.

"Thank you y/n." Simon said, then took a sip of the iced tea. You brought your own glass to your lips and took a sip as well.

Then Simon placed his glass down with a coughing fit and you let out a cackle.

"Bloody hell what did you put in that?" Simon asked between coughs and you were losing it.

"That right there, is some authentic southern sweet tea baby." You laughed.

"Christ if a bullet doesn't kill me that sure will." He laughed, his coughing subsiding.

"Well do you like it at least?" You ask.

Simon took another sip, preparing himself this time, then nodded after a second.

"Yeah... I could get used to it." He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

"Go on an' eat now, look like you haven't had a thing all day." You said, as you picked up your fork to try your freshly prepared meal.

Simon did the same, and when he took a bite of the Shepherd's pie, he swears he'd never tasted anything better in his life.

"Holy shit." He says with his mouth full.

You look up at him from your plate with wide eyes, hoping he likes it.

"This is the best damn thing I've ever had." He said, taking bite after bite.

You giggle, glad he enjoys it so much.

"Really? Ok good, I was nervous. Haven't made it in a while." You confess with the biggest smile on your face, watching the big man in front of you eat like he hasn't in weeks.

By the time you finish your plate, Simon has already finished two and downed his sweet tea.

"I haven't had a meal like that since before the military." Simon says, leaning back in his char satisfied, wrapping the blanket back around his shoulders.

You finish off the rest of your sweet tea then place the glass down to answer him.

"What? Really?" You ask in shock and horror, wondering why this mountain of a man hasn't been eating the way he's supposed to.

"Oh baby we gotta change that." You say with a laugh.

There it is again. Simon thinks. Baby.

He doesn't know how to react, all the affection he's receiving from you, someone he just met, was more than any affection he's had his entire life.

"Here, lemme help you clean up." Simon offers, standing up and grabbing his plate.

But you stand up too and reach for the plate in his hands.

"Uh-uh, I got it, you're a guest tonight." You say, hands going to take his plate.

Simon pulls it back so you can't grab it.

"No no please, you've done so much for me already. I got it." He says, and you stand there for a second, considering.

"Ok." You say, giving in to his warm, brown puppy eyes he's giving you.

"Just place it right there in the sink." You tell him.

After you two clean up, Simon realizes how late it got. Time with you seemed to fly.

"Well, I better get home now." He says sadly, not wanting to let the night end, but he doesn't want to keep you up taking care of him. "Thank you so much again, y/n." He says, smiling down at you in the kitchen.

"You're welcome, Simon." You say, now smiling up at him.

You two stay there for a few seconds, just smiling at each other, enjoying each other's presence and proximity.

"Here, lemme walk you out." You say, breaking the moment first.

You both walk to the front door together, him trailing behind you and taking note of how cute the sway of your hips is as you walk. You open the door for him and you both look at each other again.

"Goodnight, y/n, I had a good time." Simon says.

"You're welcome, me too." You reply. Then you notice he doesn't have the blanket you gave him. Your eyes widen and you gasp, making Simon's eyebrow rise in concern.

"Oh my god, wait, your blanket!" You say and hurry off to the kitchen where the blanket was draped over the kitchen table's chair and bring it back to him.

"Here you are honey." You say, as you reach up on your toes to place it around his shoulders.

Simon grips the ends of the blanket and tugs it the rest of the way around his shoulders.

"Don't want you to forget that." You smile up at him. "You're gonna sleep real well with that, trust me." You say.

"I'm sure I will. Thank you." He says, smiling back.

"Goodnight Simon." You tell him softly, smile never leaving your face.

"Goodnight y/n." He reciprocates in the same soft tone.

He turns to walk out the door and onto the porch, then looks back at you before turning around to make his way back to his house.

You lean in the doorway, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him walk away, feeling warm despite the night's brisk air, then you return back into your house when he reaches his own, smiling to yourself for the rest of the night.

Simon makes his way to his room, but not before looking at your house through his kitchen window one last time, watching the lights turn off inside them.

He enters his room and sits on his bed, wrapping the blanket still on his shoulders tighter around himself. He lays down, bringing it up to his nose to take in the scent of your house, trying to etch it into his brain forever.

He gets lost in how warm the blanket is and how it smells so much like you that his eyelids get too heavy before he can change into his night clothes. The thought and smell of you overwhelms his senses in the best way and he finds himself falling asleep to their comfort.

And as he slept, not a single nightmare creeped it's way into his mind. How could they? His mind was already occupied with dreams of you.

taglist: @pussypinkbarbie @thatonepupkai @confuseddipshit