#if you need me to elaborate on anything just drop me a line! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoony2k · 4 months

Text

WINTER BLUES

Synopsis: A road trip where Sunghoon can't tell the difference between car sickness and a fever but thankfully you and the boys can.

PAIRING: sunghoon x reader

GENRE: fluff, angst with comfort, established relationship

WARNINGS: throwing up (implied), sickness themes, sunghoon whines a lot, both are simps

WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

NOTE: hii first request so I'm very excited. I hope you like it and enjoy :)

requested masterlist

"I get car sick sometimes", is what Sunghoon said three seconds before clambering into Heeseung's hand-me-down Honda Civic. You waited for an elaboration, for him to continue yet he offered none. Jake, stood next to you and smiled with all his might. Whether he ignored your puzzled face or just didn't hear his friend was unknown to you but you followed your lover in the car as Jake nudged you.

Twenty minutes into the highway, Sunghoon announced that he needed to throw up or he would die. Heeseung groaned, " My guy, we just started. Can't you hold it in?"

You kicked the back of his seat and he squeaked in shock. "Hee, that's the one thing you don't do when you need to throw up". You turned to your lover and inspected him.

His usually bright complexion appeared dull and flushed under his woolly scarf, eyes lidded from sleep or dizziness, you couldn't decipher. When you grabbed onto his palm to provide solace, you realised just how warm he was, how his sweaty palms soaked your gloves, and the way his fingers trembled with each heavy breath. A peek at the car console showed that the heater was on but the car wasn't even warm which is why Jake kept shivering next to you. The conditioner had been jammed ever since teenage Heeseung dropped coffee on the controls so it would only blow lukewarm air in all seasons.

You leaned closer to your lover who graciously accepted your warmth. He tried to bury his head in the crock of your neck but you pushed his head until it gently hit the headrest. He groaned in dismay at the loss of contact and, next to you, Jake groaned at what he thought was an act of love.

"God, I wish I was in Jay's car," he grumbled," Niki keeps sending me snaps". He turned his phone to face you, a blurry pixilated Niki and Jungwon showed off their bounty with large smiles, several packets of chips, cans of juice and one healthy granola, presumably for Jay.

Your heart gleamed at the sight until you remembered the problem at hand. You pushed his phone away. "Doesn't Hoon look sick? I don't think it's car sickness"

Jake peeked over your form to look at Sunghoon, he scratched his head, "Sick? He looks seconds away from ascending. What did you do?"

You gaped at him and spluttered to defend yourself. "I didn't do anything! He's been like this for a while".

Next to you, Sunghoon tsked loudly. He had closed his eyes, thick brows furrowed and his plush lips were pulled back in a thin line. "He's right here And it's just mild car sickness", his voice was sharp but there was a slight crack. You gave Jake a pointed look when he stifled his giggles behind a hand.

From the front seat, Heeseung glanced at you three through the rear mirror and spoke up," Just an hour until we reach the first stop, Hoon, fighting!"

Sunghoon groaned loudly, then mumbled a quiet "don't call me that" so delicate, only your ears caught it. This time when he snuggled into you, you accepted him and wrapped your arms around his shivering frame in a warm bear hug. His dark locks tickled your nose as he tried to bury himself even further in you, or maybe he was trying to fit himself in your (read: his) coat. You placed several delicate kisses on his crown.

Jake pretended to throw up. Next to Heeseung, Sunoo paused his chewing to laugh and then turned his torso to offer a water bottle. His cheeks were curved as he also offered a smile and you didn't feel so chilly anymore. Even though Sunghoon was snoring in your embrace you took the water bottle in case he woke up.

Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open and his gaze concentrated on light brown wood that levitated before his eyes. Far too disoriented, he tried to puzzle his surroundings. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realise that he stared at a wooden roof and was cushioned under several duvets, sweat dripped from his hairline and his thick sweater clung onto his back like a parasite. The cabin, he rationalised, though he had no memory of entering it or even waking up in the car.

His head thumped as if he had smashed it against the wall, eyes pinching with every blink. Thankfully, the room was lit up by a small lamp that didn't blind him. each part of him ached, begged him to drift off to Lala land again but the sticky, dirty feeling of being caged under all the materials annoyed him to his core. He tried to sit up but his arms could not support his weight. So much for the gym. He barely lifted a couple of inches before he fell onto the pillows, the movement, albeit small, shook his vision and he scrunched his face in pain.

His conquest to brush his bangs out of his face halted as his ears picked up snores emitting from his left side. He thought of you and how ethereal you looked asleep and the butterflies inside his rib cage danced wildly, a dimple appeared on his face and he leisurely turned his face towards your body...except.. his gaze landed upon dark hair with curled tips and a nose that did not resemble yours at all. He groaned loudly when he connected the face to the name. Jungwon was cuddled next to Sunghoon, softly snoring and blissfully unaware of how Sunghoon was mentally writing the sequel to Inferno in his head.

He wrongfully glared at the innocent boy when suddenly, from the corner of his eye, a bright flash that momentarily dazed him, caused him to fling his arm in the direction to protect himself. A loud cackle that was far too familiar made his heart sink and alerted him of another presence.

Sunghoon pulled the duvets over his head and wallowed in the darkness to save the small shred of sanity left. Niki continued laughing as he climbed the bed and softly shook Sunghoon.

"All of these are going in the blackmail folder soon," he sweetly reminded Sunghoon who wondered where the hell you had gone off to. His lack of reaction spoke loudly to Niki. "Your girl's in the kitchen with Jay".

At the hopeful prospect of food, Sunghoon's ears perked up like a cat, he peeked out to glare at Niki, lax beady eyes stared at him but Niki was unaffected. He casually pocketed his phone.

"You better not be lying Niki," Sunghoon tried to warn the younger boy but his voice came out wrong, too nasally and unlike himself. It caught him off guard and his face flushed out of slight humiliation. Sunghoon hated his moments of weakness to manifest in front of others, gosh he missed you. The one person he could let his walls crumble in front of. He wished you were here, cradling his face in your lap as you cooed him in a sweet voice, and brushed your fingers through his hair.

"What the hell is wrong with me?", he lamented at his inner turmoil. Niki shrugged, and a lazy smile hung on his face.

the oak door opened to let out a slight breeze of chilly air and you emerged through it like an angel. You were carrying a tray of food, two bowls that smelt heavenly and made his stomach do backflips. Your eyes lacked their usual mirth, instead, there was nervousness stitched on your face and Sunghoon felt awful for worrying his lover.

In an urgent need to fall back into routine and do tasks for you, Sunghoon pushed down his blankets to reach you so he could grab the tray from you but Jungwon, now wide awake, placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Sunghoon immediately sat down. Jungwon offered him a dimpled smile and he returned it with an uneasy one.

When you came closer, Niki grabbed the tray from you and placed it on a side table Sunghoon hadn't noticed before. He had zero time to soak in his surroundings but he didn't need to anymore since his tunnel vision zoomed on you.

Your cheeks lifted when you smiled at Sunghoon but he saw how it didn't curve your eyes, how the tips of your smile quivered. Physically, his body ached, his eyes burned and he felt gross and heavy for a different cause. He cast his eyes to his hands and tinkered with the furry blanket to distract himself.

You sighed softly and took a step toward him. Pulling his shivering frame to rest on your torso, the heat his body radiated did not soothe you. But what disturbed you more was the solemn expression he wore.

You raked your fingers through his hair, something only you could do as permitted by Sunghoon's law and you felt his giggles before his shoulders shook. He chose to look up at you, eyes slightly watery and red nose scrunched as he showed off the smile you cherish. You imitated him.

Finally feeling lighter and not as gross, Sunghoon circled his arms around your waist and brought you as close as possible. Your knees hit the mattress and he slowly leaned backwards until you flicked his forehead.

Immediately, he barked in pain and let go of your hips. You clicked your tongue.

Sunghoon let gravity pull him onto the cushions with a loud huff and whine but you paid no attention. Carefully, you scoped some porridge and gently blew on it to cool.

From the corner of his eyes, Sunghoon observed how you placed your palm under the spoon to catch any hot droplet and he felt fuzzy inside. Quickly he sat up and parted his lips to take the first bite and immediately he was sent to heaven. He wasn’t sure if it was the flavours on his tongue or your presence next to him but he could see his health bar regenerating. He closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively, finally eating after hours.

When you turned to the bowl for his second bite, he spoke up.

“There’s no need to eat more. I feel so much better just by looking at you.”

It was your turn to groan at his dramatic antics, grip on the utensil loosened as you turned to pinch his cheeks but he swatted your hand away. Interlocked your fingers tightly.

“You’re so stupid,” you faux insulted to distract him from how his genuine words affected you, and he dared to giggle, shoulder shook with every melody that dripped from his mouth. Gosh, you missed his laughter. You hated seeing your loved ones sick.

Another bite was brought near him with precise care as the first one. His eyes gleamed when he ate the porridge, you assumed it was because of Jay’s delectable famous cooking but the boy was on cloud 9 because you were hand-feeding him. You aka his lover aka his beloved who cared for him. Usually, he fed you from his plate but the role reversal made him melt.

Before you could spoon another mouthful, he squeezed your hand to pause your actions.

“Have you eaten?”, he whispered the words with a tile of his head, a stray lock fell onto his forehead. Sunghoon saw the twinkle in your smile and, mirth in your eyes and he anticipated your response.

Thinking about it was one thing, but saying the words out loud made you bashful, your gaze moved to your hand which he held so tight.

“I feel so full just by looking at you”, you mimicked his words.

His response was immediate, like a cat that licked a sour lemon, he scrunched his features, nose crinkling and fangs appearing, he cringed with his entire body and fell onto the bed once more. His dark hair draped across his face like a curtain and he pressed his face into the duvets, wailing loudly like a siren.

Now you just felt embarrassed. So, you slapped his back with little force.

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad!”, you defended your crumbling dignity. He ignored you and began to crawl under the duvet until you said his name. It made him spring out of the covers to face you with a big frown, thick brows stitched together, he glared at you with a pout and flushed cheeks. You waited for him to say something, a couple of seconds passed until he heaved a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to call me Sunghoon”. His explanation gave literally no explanation so you stared at him, puzzled and he whined at your lack of comprehension.

“That’s literally your name?”, you stated.

Did he get so sick he forgot? Sunghoon sighed once more, this time it wasn’t exaggerated but it came deep from within your soul, as if this very conversation burdened him. Then, he grabbed your shoulders and shook you back and forth, head swaying. Based on his behaviour you started to believe that Jay added magical healing potions when you weren’t looking. He seemed to be recovering too quickly.

“Hoon”, he said with too much emphasis. “That’s my name to you”.

You rolled your eyes and removed his clammy hands from your shoulders.

“Well, Hoon you need to finish this to get better. And when you get better you can finally spend time with us”.

He nodded along and seemed satisfied with you; his nose scrunched again as a dimple poked his cheek. He took several bites and finished the first bowl with ease but was reluctant to even begin the second one.

“I want us to eat it together”.

He couldn’t meet your eyes. It wasn’t surprising that you couldn’t either. You glanced at the miso soup in your lap, steamy and savoury. The single utensil almost drowned in the broth, awaiting its next commands.

Then thoughts of the boy next to you consumed you, the boy of your dreams, lovesick and quite sick in general. Your lack of response made him fiddle with the loose threads, lip tucked between his teeth. Your heart felt sore in the best way possible, seeing how much he cherished you, and how he desired to do such mundane activities but as a shared couple. A number of beats passed and Sunghoon could hear his heart thump in his ears, head ringing due to another reason now. You heard the faint sound of the boys laughing and yelling over the TV, catching bits of their conversation.

You slid your hand across the small distance between his legs and yours and instinctually Sunghoon turned his palm upwards to clasp your hand into his. A smile threatened to break on his face, cheeks already hinting upwards.

“Hoonie, if I get sick, I’ll make sure they go skiing without you and you're locked in this room with me”.

Deep laughter erupted from him and vibrated in his chest. He let go of your hand to cradle your face in his warm hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones like you were delicate and made of glass.

He leaned closer and closer until your noses touched, feather-like. You stared into his cinnamon eyes and saw a small reflection of yourself in them until Sunghoon’s lashes met as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to take your breath away.

Maybe getting sick was worth it, maybe it didn’t matter as long as Sunghoon was by your side, happy, healthy and full of passionate love and vibrant life.

thank you for reading!

all rights belong to me. please do not translate/edit/copy.

513 notes · View notes

fallatyourfeet · 5 months

Text

Empty Promises (Tommy X Wife Reader) One-shot

Summary: Tommy can be a cruel man sometimes, but YN still loves him.

Word count: 746

Warnings: Nothing really.

A/N: This is my first fic in a long long time. It's short but hopefully sweet.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

“Tommy, you promised”. Standing at the empty desk of his Arrow House study, you held the telephone receiver to your ear staring at your reflection in the window. It was so dark outside that the pane of glass worked perfectly as a mirror. You looked good. Really good. Beautiful even. Exhaling silently, your eyes dropped to the rug beneath your favourite pair of heels. It felt like forever since you had a reason to put on a beautiful dress and powder your nose. And after countless empty promises from Tommy to get home early and take you out, you thought that tonight he was finally going to come through. No less than an hour ago he called to say he was a minute from leaving the office, and now… well, he was still in that very same office telling you that something had come up and not to expect him home before midnight.

The familiar click of Tommy’s tongue travelled down the telephone line to your ear, “I’m sorry YN, I need to close this deal tonight. It shouldn’t be taking this long… but there was a problem with the contract… it’s getting amended right now.”

Frustrated, you shook your head as if he was standing right in front of you, sure he could hear the shortness in your voice, but you were unable to bite your tongue. “Jees Tommy, I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go… Why couldn’t you let me know an hour ago?” Giving him no chance to reply, you huffed, throwing a hand in the direction of the sitting room, “And what about Polly… she’s already here to mind the kids.”

Clearing his throat, you could swear Tommy’s voice just broke a little. Was he amused by your frustration? “Don’t worry about Polly, she’ll use any excuse to see the children… she won’t care.”

Letting slip an annoyed grumble, you sank into the chair beside you. Staring into the darkness outside your frustration began to fade as disappointment took hold, your grumble finishing with a defeated sigh, “I just wish… I wish… I don’t even know anymore… I miss you, Tommy. I just want you to myself… for one night.” That was the moment you noticed headlights turn in at the top of the driveway. Sitting upright, you focused on the car, but it wasn’t familiar. “Who’s that. Tommy, were you expecting anyone tonight?”

Tommy asked, “What about two nights, eh?”

Confused, you stood up and walked around the desk to the window, scrutinising the car as it made its way up the driveway, “What do you mean?... Are you expecting someone?”

“What about two nights,” Tommy repeated.

The car rolled to a stop out the front of the house, leaving you even more confused. It was a brand-new Rolls-Royce limousine, complete with its very own chauffeur. Suspicion crept upon your voice as you spoke, “What are you talking about, Tommy. What do you mean, two nights?”

A soft chuckle sounded from the other end of the telephone, his voice now clearly amused, “What I mean is, no business, no races, no horses… nothing. Just you and me for the whole weekend to do whatever the hell we want.”

You fell silent a moment, unsure what was happening. This was completely uncharted waters; Tommy had never done anything like this before. You could hardly string a sentence together, “What? Whatever do you… I don’t… What’s going on?”

Mumbling something about you being adorable when you're frustrated and confused, Tommy chuckled again, before elaborating. “See that man out the window, that’s George, your chauffeur. He’s going to collect a suitcase in the foyer that Polly has packed for you and bring you to me.” Giving you a moment to collect your thoughts, he waited before clearing his throat, “So why don’t you go upstairs and kiss the children goodnight for me and tell them we’ll be home in a couple of days.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t contain the joy in your voice, “You’re such an ass, Tommy. Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of torturing me like that?”

Tommy laughed audibly, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you hurry up and get your own ass down here and you can punish me in any way you want.”

With a devilish voice, you sighed, “Oh Tommy, my love. Don’t you worry about that… I’ve got the whole car ride there to decide… and believe me, I already have a few ideas.”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader

762 notes · View notes

slut4thebroken · 7 months

Text

Trapped

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Capa x reader

Summary | You ask Capa for his help, then get stuck in a a room barely big enough for the two of you. After only a few minutes of forced proximity, he snaps.

Warnings | NON CON sexual content, 18+, smut, dubcon but technically noncon tbh, forced proximity, vaginal sex, painful sex, forced breeding, crying, idk what else lol.

Words | 1k+

Notes | Don’t ask for specifics on the beginning… I kept it vague for a reason💀 Also I lowkey can’t tell if this is cringy cause I wrote and published it in one day which I never do so I’ll probably come back to it😭 but anyway I hope y’all enjoy

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Yeah I know, but everyone else is busy.”

“I’m busy.” He retorted.

“With what exactly?” You waited and he huffed, rolling his eyes, making you smirk. “It’ll be quick.”

“Fine.” You led him through the long hallways before finally stopping outside of a door. You used your key to open it, then stepped inside, and he waited impatiently for what you wanted to show him.

“I just need you to double check this for me. Better safe than sorry, you know?” He mumbled out an agreement, then stepped closer, trying to see. When he still couldn’t quite make it out, he stepped forward even more and your stomach dropped as the light quickly left the room, followed by the door clicking shut.

“Fuck! Capa— this door locks!” You all but yelled, panic filling your chest.

“What?”

“We’re trapped, you fucking idiot,”

“Hey, this is not my fault. You could’ve told me.” You could hear the handle violently jiggling as he tried to open it, despite what you just said. With the door now closed, you couldn’t even turn around to face him because of how small the space was. “Who else did you ask to help you before me?”

“Not enough people for them to realize we're missing anytime soon.” He cursed under his breath and you let out a heavy sigh. There wasn’t a light in this ‘room’ so he couldn’t even look at what you originally came down here for, which just made all of this worse.

You shifted your weight, trying not to think about how long you might have to stand here without being able to move. Even though you were praying someone would come, you knew deep down that it would take a couple hours at least. You heard him try the handle again before letting out a heavy breath. You were silent, trying to think of something to say or if you should even say anything at all. When his breathing picked up, you paused, listening for a few more seconds just to be sure.

“I hope you’re not claustrophobic.” You said, mostly teasingly.

“That’s not the problem right now.” He muttered, making your brows furrow in confusion. He cursed under his breath and you waited for him to elaborate on what the problem was. Instead, his hands just barely brushed your hips, making you stiffen. When he grabbed them lightly, your breath caught in your throat.

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t hide the slight quaver in your voice. He ignored you and started rubbing up and down your sides. “Stop it.” You warned, trying to bat his hands away, but barely being able to in the small space. You suddenly felt his breath on your shoulder and he dragged his nose up your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Capa?” You whispered, stomach knotting with fear. He let out a low groan and suddenly gripped your hips, hard enough to make you wince, to keep you from moving.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. Before you could ask what that meant, he was shoving your pants and underwear down, making you yelp and try to pull them back up. His were next, pushing the clothing down just enough to free his cock.

“Wait,” You tried thrashing, but he pushed you forward against the wall and grabbed your hips again to limit your movement. “Capa, stop!” You felt his cock brush your hole and you stiffened. He moved one hand to line up his cock and the other to cover your mouth.

He applied some pressure, but wasn’t able to push in, so he used more force until he finally breached your hole. You let out a hoarse scream behind his hand, feeling your eyes burn with tears. That was nothing compared to the burning between your legs though.

“Fuck— I’m sorry. I just need this…” He said through a breath, only staying still for a moment before starting a brutal pace, making your tears fall. He rutted into you and the hand not on your mouth wrapped around your stomach, holding you still. You clawed at both of his hands and arms, trying to get him to release you. Instead, he just groaned at the pain and fucked you harder.

“I know… I’m sorry.” He said, as if that could make up for anything. You sobbed violently behind his hand and that only seemed to encourage him, making him fuck you even rougher. “Fuck you’re so tight.” He whispered, hot breath fanning your ear. “You feel so fucking good… god— it’s been so long.”

He humped into you desperately, chasing his own pleasure and ignoring your muffled cries. Even though your body was starting to adjust to make this easier, it still hurt like hell and you already knew you weren’t going to be able to sit comfortably for at least a day or two. He groaned and cursed against your ear as he tightened his grip, fucking you more frenzied now.

“Oh fuck— I’m already close… I have to fill you.” He said lowly. You let out the loudest scream so far. “I know, I’m sorry, I just need it so fucking bad. I need to come in a tight, hot pussy, I can’t take it anymore.” He whined, holding you tighter. You let out a stifled sob and shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” He moaned, thrusts becoming more forceful and desperate, “I can’t stop— I can’t pull out, I’m so sorry.” You tried to scream protests at him from behind his hand but nothing you said was coherent.

He moaned out one last apology before his hips snapped forward, burying his cock deep enough to make your cervix ache. He humped into you as he rode it out, groaning against your ear and squeezing your body tight enough to almost hurt. You felt his cock twitching as warmth filled you, making you let out a strangled whimper. The hand on your mouth dropped so that his arm wrapped around your chest instead, still holding you against his body as you cried silently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, one last time.

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues

#robert capa x reader #robert capa #sunshine #cillian murphy #robert capa smut #robert capa x reader smut #dark!robert capa

424 notes · View notes

reds-writings · 2 months

Text

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!

#rust cohle #true detective season 1 #reds-writings #true detective #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #marty hart #fanfic #matthew mcconaughey

155 notes · View notes

bruciemilf · 2 years

Note

Bruce's relationship with his male Rogues vs his female Rogues is. So interesting to me.

Because you have his Rogues like the Joker, who he has actual conflicts with—Bane, Scarecrow, Penguin, Two-Face, Black Mask. All the men have honest beef with him. Death traps, elaborate evil schemes, bombs (oh my God the BOMBS), murder attempts.

But the women? They're friends with him. All his female Rogues see him as an awkward annoyance at worst (Ivy), and boyfriend material at best (Selina). Harley's square in the middle as "weird little brother." They toe the line of chaotic and lean so dangerously close to vigilante so often that Bruce just. Lets them be. Gives perfunctory attempts to catch them, but most times it ends with them just talking.

I'm 95% sure they know he's Bruce Wayne but don't say anything out of courtesy.

Batman strikes fear in the hearts of men and only men, and I think that's honestly iconic of him

GOD YESSSSSS LIKE - It'd be redundant to add something to this; Like painting over Mona Lisa but I'll do my best because this is actually one of my favourite topics.

I feel like I could word this a lot better, but I just feel like men dehumanise eachother to a concerning amount. Not Bruce, - if anything, he's on some saint shit by trying to rehabilitate these guys. But it's more of a " I can fix him" dynamic that you just won't see with the sirens

It's like - I don't have evidence of this, it's more of a " call it like I see it" headcanon, but Bruce? Most definetly was bullied by guys before.

I can't really go into details, but Bruce has " guy who could hang with the girls and girls only in high school" energy.

It's kinda telling that he has a relatively positive relationship with women and inspires a sense of safety with them that I've seen no other male hero achieve, but he ALWAYS has beef with men. Truly an awkward women's ally icon

More so? I can honestly see Bruce and the sirens as that non-toxic middle aged friend group that went through hell and back together and their paths always merge into eachother

Like? Give me Bruce trying to stop them from a heist. He's tired and Selina can see it, eyes sharp, designed to see detail. " Wait. Have you been crying?"

Harley drops her hammer with a gasp. " Oh my God, have you?"

Bruce's arms drop limp at his side and he takes a very deep breath. " I fought with Harvey last night and he brought up my parents. "

" No."

" He didn't."

" Are you kidding me? Oh, he's SUCH an asshole," Pamela somehow always has a wine bottle ready and Selina's in charge to bring the glasses, because at least one of them will need to rant about male rogues. " Tell us everything, hon."

" It's just, - GOD, is it too much to ask? One thing, - one goddam thing I ask of him in two decades, don't bring up my dead parents when I punch you in the face! But no. "

" Let's key his car."

" I'm going to his parent's grave to steal their jewlery and I'll wear them next time we fight. "

" Oh my God, could you imagine what face he'd make?"

" Which one?"

#bruce wayne #batman #dc #dc comics #harley quinn #poison ivy #pamela isley #selina kyle #catwoman #gotham sirens #text #bruce for the guy who protects drunk girls at college parties and walks his female co workers/employees home and gives them cool weapons

2K notes · View notes

flowerxbunnie · 5 months

Note

idk if you did it already but i neeeed your version of the nsfw alphabet ( matt or chris idrc i just need it ) 😩😩

NSFW Alphabet

Matthew Sturniolo

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s an angel when it comes to aftercare! He rubs your back (or your legs if you bounced on him for a while) and def makes sure you get cleaned up, he’s deathly afraid of you getting a UTI 😂

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is his waist, we’ve ALLLL seen the way this man loves a slutty little slightly cropped shirt. He knows he looks good

His favorite on you is your back. He loves the way he can see the two lines of muscle running down your spine and the dip in the middle as he’s hitting it from the back. Also the way he can stick his thumbs into the little dimples at the bottom 😏

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man is OBSESSEDDDD with seeing you swallow his cum. He thinks it’s the hottest thing ever when you stick your tongue out to show him you swallowed every drop

If you’re not feeling down for swallowing it, he’ll go for whatever you want!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

….we all know at this point. This man is RUNNING through smutty fics and constantly getting ideas 😈 has a whole folder full of his favs to refer back to

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a super crazy body count, but he for sure knows what he’s doing and makes sure you’re pleased

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves to watch you bounce on him, he likes that he can see your pretty face and can feel in control when he grabs your hips to guide you, or be more submissive when you hold his hands down

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely makes jokes when the time is right but he likes to keep it serious for the most part!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Kinda like his stubble, he’ll let it grow out for a bit and then give it a nice trim. Never fully bald down there though, he doesn’t like the way it looks 😂

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He LOVES to fuck, but when you make love.. he’s going all out. Throwing out so many compliments, caressing every inch of your skin, lighting candles, picking a playlist of songs. He usually does all the work when he’s feeling lovey dovey too 🥹

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh this man JERKS it. When he’s not with you he will literally call you and beg for you to guide him through it. And if you’re busy you already know he’s going into a hidden folder with plenty of pics and videos of you!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Call me crazy butttt… I think matt would call you his puppy ✋🏻 no elaboration needed

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He lovesssss car sex, especially road head. He loves finding spots to park at and bend you over the hood 😇

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

For some reason he’s really turned on when you cop an attitude with him. He loves to be the one to put you back in your place

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Piss/shit 🚫🚫 he would literally throw up if you even jokingly asked

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Maybe a hot take.. but I think he prefers getting head. Obviously he would never turn down the opportunity to rub his stubble between your thighs 😈 but he loves seeing you work your hardest on your knees to please him

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Both! He knows the perfect times to switch up his pace to drive you crazyyy. But if he had to pick he would go for slow but deep, rough strokes

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers to take his time and make it a good experience, but he would never turn down a quickie! He loves when you drag him off into a bathroom because you can’t hold out until you get home

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

For most things! He’s pretty open minded and is always looking for new ideas and ways to please you/himself

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

1 😂 2 on a good night. He uses so much energy teasing and edging you and when he finally does cum, he is SPENT

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He keeps a bunch of pretty vibes, whips, handcuffs etc to use on you! He doesn’t really prefer them for himself but occasionally will let you hold a bullet vibrator against him while you suck him off 😇😇

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he is SUCH a tease. He’s always pushing you to your limits. He loves to hear you beg and plead

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not a screamer by any means but he makes sure you know when he’s feeling good. He groans and pants a lot, and sometimes a moan will slip out and he always blushes a tiny bit hehe

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He LOVES when you take him lingerie shopping with you. He gets to help you pick out what he’s gonna tear off of you later 😇 good luck in the fitting room btw!

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average by a little, but it’s nice and thick, plenty enough to fill you up. He knows how to work it 🤓

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This man is a freakkkkk. At least 4 times a week if not everyday.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to make sure you feel well taken care of afterwards so he does his best to stay awake and make sure you’re all good before he cleans himself and dozes off!

Taglist: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

260 notes · View notes

anothermansjeans · 7 months

Text

Read Your Mind

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

a/n: hello babes! i had originally posted this on patreon but wanted to share it with tumblr as well (ik i said it’d take like 2 weeks but here she is)! i’ll be writing the smut scenes to this fic and those will be patreon exclusives so if you wanna become a member it’s in my bio :)

wc: 1.1k

cw: implied sex, dry humping mention ?? i think that’s it!

inspiration: read your mind by sabrina carpenter

To say Y/N was frustrated would be an understatement. The constant mixed signals she has received from Aaron would make whiplash seem less painful, and she wasn’t being over dramatic.

When she first developed what was once a small crush— and is now almost what she thought was love— for her boss, she wouldn’t have ever thought he’d have even an ounce of any sort of romantic feelings for her, but after a drunken night out with the team and coming to the realization that they lived not even two buildings away from one another, confessions and heavy petting were exchanged. The next morning after mutual hungover groans were exchanged throughout the bullpen, Hotch called her into his office and made it very clear that lines were crossed… but also stated he had enjoyed himself. The confusion had begun there. Knowing he wasn’t typically one for physical contact, the feeling of him placing his hand onto her hand that rested on top of his desk sent a shock through her system. She enjoyed it, she really enjoyed it, but within thirty seconds of that contact he had also said how he needed her to get back to her desk— he needed to be alone to work.

Y/N brushed it off after that. Nothing was going to happen— Aaron liked what they did, but clearly didn’t want to pursue anything. That was understandable, and it would’ve stayed understandable if he kept up with the professionalism. Lack of said professionalism happened during a case in New York. Everyone had to share a room with someone except for one, and when it came down to pairing off Emily and JJ went off with each other, Derek and Spencer assumed they’d be the second pair, and Rossi claimed the solo room for himself. That left Y/N and Hotch with each other. It was very awkward for the first hour, but they slowly warmed up to each other again.

If anyone told Y/N that she would be having sex with Aaron that night she would’ve laughed in their face, and if anyone told her that they’d wake up in each other’s arms and bask in the warmth, she would’ve sent them to a mental institution. But it happened. After one too many glances they inevitably gave in, and that morning was a lot less awkward than the morning after their drunken dry humping.

But the cycle with Hotch continued after that. They’d share secret kisses, he’d tell her very sternly to get to work. They would spend the night with each other, he’d say they shouldn’t see each other for a while just to call her in the next night or two. At this point, she figured he was lonely but didn’t want to commit. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could play this game with him, and she would continue to mull it over in the early hours at the office before anyone else was there, stirring her coffee in the kitchenette until she felt a strong pair of hands touch her waist.

“I miss you.”

His voice was raspy, like he woke up not too long ago and just came in. She knew his statement was referring to the small break in seeing each other he had suggested, and the thought of it made her upset, causing her to place her coffee on the counter and turn around, crossing her arms.

“I can’t read your mind.” Her statement caused him to lift an eyebrow, forcing her to elaborate. “I’m a profiler, and for the love of God I cannot read what the hell is going on in your mind. You say that we need to stop and then you call me whenever you deem it’s a good time. You know we’re crossing a line here, make that very clear, but still see me in a romantic setting. I can't read your mind.”

His hands had dropped from her waist, and he took a step back. “There’s nothing to read here, Y/N. I thought we were together.”

She scoffed, causing him to wince, “then why the fuss, Aaron? Why are you saying things but doing the opposite? Why the mixed signals?” She waited a minute, staring back at him, waiting for him to say something, but when he didn’t, she grabbed her coffee and started to take off.

“Wait.” He hooked his hand around her elbow, causing her to turn back to him. “You’re right. I’ve screwed up. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time— I don’t typically date, but Y/N, I’m not lying when I say that there is no one else I would want to be experiencing this with. I was actually hoping that you’re it for me.”

A small part of her wanted to laugh in his face. After countless days trying to read what the hell was going on in his mind, this wasn’t even on the forefront of the mental list she compiled. The biggest part of her wanted to believe him. She really did, but she had nothing to go on. “I need you to prove it, Aaron. I feel like I’m clueless here and I just—”

He swiftly cut her off by tugging her towards him and smashing their lips together. This kiss was a lot different than the secret or drunken ones they’ve shared. It felt like the real deal for Y/N, and she could’ve stayed there forever if it wasn’t for the small crash as well as the exclaimed “oh!” they heard.

Breaking apart, they turned their heads to see a very frazzled Penelope standing there with her hands in a surrendering position, lips in an “oh” shape, and a broken mug on the floor. No one spoke immediately, but once everyone was fully aware of the situation at hand, Penelope went down to the floor and started scooping up the broken pieces. “I am so sorry sir… and Y/N! I’m uh— I‘ll just—”

“It’s okay, Garcia,” Hotch’s voice was gruff, “I’ll clean it up. Just get ready for the briefing.”

She had slowly gotten up and wiped her hands across her dress. “Yes, sir,” she spoke quietly, but once she turned around and scurried away Y/N could hear a quiet “I am so telling Derek I was right.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward afterwards as they both pitched in to clean the broken glass. Their slightly heated faces and hidden smiles were enough for them to both understand what the other was thinking— this thing between them was real, and they had to practice avoiding the rest of the team for anything other than case related things.

#criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x female reader

239 notes · View notes

magnoliahwrites · 2 months

Text

Lean On Me (Don’t Knock Me Over)

or: harry is a touring musician and you're here to interview him

feat: childhood friendship, flashbacks, friends to enemies to lovers,mention of panic attack/anxiety/puking

note: this is part one of a three-shot. Side note: I made up names for harry’s band, it’s an up and coming pop punk band so there’s that

Much like most things in life, when the paper slid through your desk, you immediately shoved it under the outgoing mail box.

anything that causes you stress immediately went there, a future problem for yourself.

It wasn't until the night before the show, when your manager turned best friend, Cindy sat in front of you tapping her new manicure on the desk in front of you that you even remembered it.

"I just don't see the big deal," she huffs, stopping the tapping of her nails long enough to push her blonde hair out of her eyes, "like, you two were kids. He probably doesn't even remember you. And besides, I have three people lined up who would literally kill you for this chance."

You groan, resisting the urge to fling your body on the floor and ahve a full body temper tantrum.

Instead, you act like an adult and throw a mini fit, throwing your head back and shoving the papers away from you.

"he'll remember me." you groan, rubbing your temples, "It was a small town."

"Good," Cindy shrugs, "Make him regret it, or whatever."

she pauses, and her voice drops, some of the hard that radiates off of her melts away for a second.

"I don't see what the big deal is still," she says quietly, "What happened?"

You remember the first time you heard him on the radio.

Driving down a crowded street in Cindy's car (the kind you could never even think of affording) the sun roof down, your hand out the window as the radio blasts, the sun beating down on your hand.

"This is 93.9 playing the hottest hits of the summer! To begin, we have a new single from Kennedy Curse, sure to get stuck in your head. They're new to the scene, but singer-"

Cindy all but squeals, leans forward to turn the dial on the radio up louder, "I love this band. l've been trying to get an interview with them for weeks.”

You snort as you drum your thumbs on the steering wheel, "Can't imagine it would be hard to get an interview with them-"

"Shh!" She hushes you, leans forward and turns the volume up until the car shakes under you.

"Chipped paint, Carol's gonna turn into dust-"

it was a reflex, a knee jerk reaction, something you couldn't stop. before you even knew what you were doing, you were leaning forward in your seat, slamming your hand against the volume button, immediately a silence falls over the two of you.

Cindy knows you've mentioned in passing an ex boyfriend, a singer, but haven't really elaborated on it. Now, it seems like you don't need to.

"So you'll do it?"

Cindy is all but squirming in her seat as she brings you back to the current.

The sigh is all the confirmation Cindy knows, letting out an ear piercing squeal again, "You won't regret it, i promise!"

She gets up to make her an escape, mentions something about transportation-

"I'll do it, but there has to be rules in place-" You're rubbing your temples, a headache already on the horizon, but Cindy isn't listening, long gone as she stops everyone in the hallway to mention the interview with the Kennedy Curse.

Backstage, harry fixes his hair in a broken mirror.

Something about ten years of bad luck, but he rations that's the problem for the person who broke it, not him-

A stage hand, over worked and underpaid, sticks his head backstage: "harry, Ten minutes.

Someone's here to see you-"

And the show is on.

The smirk finds his way to the corner of his lips, and it's game on. the harry who had a panic attack in the back room five minutes ago is long gone, definitely didn't puke into the garbage can earlier because of the nerves. Instead, it's now replaced by the harry he wants everyone to see; confident, cocky, bold-

"Fans already-"

And he rounds the corner and almost hits you with the door.

he speaks first. A reflex, like he's been searching for the name for months or years, waiitng for it to fall onto his lips again-

he speaks before he can stop himself, before he can hate himself for it he speaks before he can stop himself, before he can hate himself for it.

"Birdie."

The low whistle follows, some bird card be always associated with the nickname, for you always singing with him-even if you insisted you were bad.

it falls flat, feels wrong.

Not the cute nickname it was before, when you two would lie in the shared two sized mattress, harry’s feet falling off the edge of the bed, the sheets thrown over both of your heads for security;

“Birdie," he'd say, his voice low, eyelids heavy. even half asleep, the whistle followed, "I promise, to keep your side of the bed warm, always."

Under the sheets was vows between the two of you, the sillier the better, most of the time, but the hushed voices always told the truth.

Instead, you spoke back, his fingers over your lips, calloused from the non stop practicing, the yanking the garage door open at all hours of the night to practice: "I could find you in a crowd."

He laughs; it's lazy and low, like you both have all the time in the world, and he opens his mouth to say something about his height, but it lays heavy in the air as he kisses the crown of your head:

"And i'll always find you, Birdie."

Seeing him is jarring, to say the least.

The last visit was less than good, yelling and tears (from both of you) things said in the heat of the moment that keeps you both up and tossing and turning-

"It's just my normal name now, thanks." You say quickly, hoping it's dark enough backstage that he can't see the red spread across your face.

"Right," he nods, smirks as he leans against the wall, crosses his arms over his chest, "Well, birdie, I gotta say, you got a lot of nerve to wanna hear me sing after you tossed us into the gutter."

You snort, "Still the victim. i see nothings changed."

"Hilarious," he laughs without humor, takes a step toward you, eyes narrowed, that stupid fucking smirk still pulls at the side of his lips, "I see you're still following me around, hm?"

"God, I can't say I missed this. You're still an insufferable asshole-"

"An asshole you paid to see. So tell me, birdie, which of my songs do you like, hm? Still-"

You want to smack the smirk off his face. You dig your fingernails into your palm into you're sure they're going to bleed, leaving little half crescent moons in the middle of your palms, the same ones he use to study, trace over and commit to memory, kiss them better.

In some sick way, you were hoping you'd see each other and he'd apologize, come home-

"I'm just here for the interview," You shake the VIP lanyard around your neck in his face, "And then you never have to see me again."

His eyes dart to the lanyard and back to you, and for a second, he looks almost lost, like something hangs in the air that he wants to say-

"You have five minutes."

You snort, take the pencil from behind your ear,

"I'll make it two. We won't act like these are some deep songs of yours or anything-"

A local nobody band is opening, the drums are heavy and loud backstage, and the ponding begins the second you open your mouth, like it's planned.

harry leans in closer, grabs you by your elbow,

"Let's make a deal, birdie."

You act like you don't hear the low whistle fall out after the nickname.

"Listen-"

he cuts you off, "You listen to us and i'll do the interview, no bitching, after the show. we can go to the bus-"

the look you throw him is irritated and he huffs, holds his hands in the air, "Fine. I'll take you to a fuckin' restraaunt. I'll be on my best behavior, i'll have your manager eating out of your hand after this interview. Scouts honor."

He makes a show of crossing over his heart, holds his hand open in the air.

The smirk never leaves his face, even when your eyes narrow as he sets his hand between you two.

"Deal, birdie?"

You don't speak, eyes narrowed, but your hand slides into his like it never left.

It feels like you're making a deal with the devil.

#magnolia writes #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #one direction #one direction fic

86 notes · View notes

irkimatsu · 1 month

Note

Hiii. Soooo...Husk's crush using a pick-up line on him

Fem!reader knows he likes magic, so figures what would be the best one to use

"You must be a really good magician...because when I look at you, everyone else disappears 😘👉👉

Oh this one was adorable to write. <3 SFW little drabble of Husk showing Reader a magic trick!

---

“Would you mind showing me a trick?”

“Huh? You really wanna see?”

It didn’t surprise you when Husk told you he loved stage magic and used to perform when he was alive; the top hat and tuxedo pattern gave him away from day one, really. What did surprise you was that he had anything he could speak so wistfully about. You’ve only been here for a couple weeks, but you figured early on that the binge drinking had killed every positive emotion Husk had left.

But then you two got onto the subject of what your lives on Earth were like, and his face brightened despite himself as he talked about his days touring the United States with his shows, and how his dream was to be able to perform overseas. He shut down pretty quickly after he realized he was showing a soft spot around a relative stranger, but you’d already seen enough of that soft spot to know you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

And what better way to bring it out than to indulge the thing he was most proud of?

“Of course I wanna see!” you say. “I never really got to see stage magic when I was a kid, but it always sounded really interesting!”

“Well, okay,” he says, smiling just a little. “But don’t think I’m gonna reveal the secret behind the trick, just like that. Let me just…” He pats around a bit on his slacks, before pulling a deck of cards out from his pocket. “There we go.”

Does he carry those around all the time? You successfully stop yourself from laughing, knowing that if you do he’ll never talk to you again.

He pulls the deck out of the case and shuffles the cards, flipping them from paw to paw in elaborate patterns. Despite his claim that he hasn’t done this in a long time, it seems so second nature to him.

“All right,” he says as he fans the cards out in front of you. “Pick one, but don’t tell me what it is.”

You pull out the card and take a look at it. It’s an eight of spades.

“Once you remember it, put it back in the deck.”

You follow his instructions, and he starts shuffling again.

“Now, it’s been a while,” he says as he nimbly flips and juggles the cards from paw to paw. “I’m pretty sure I got this, but- whoa!” He fumbles and drops the deck, and all fifty-two cards go flying across the floor behind the bar.

“Husk!” You immediately leap to your feet and move behind the bar. “Do you need help?”

“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice utterly defeated. “Damn it, I really thought I had it…” The brightness has drained from his face, and you can barely stand to see it.

“It’s okay! Like you said, you’re out of practice!” you say as you help him gather cards. “You just need to get used to it again!”

“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbles, not really listening. “Looks like a card got stuck under the bar… mind pulling it out for me?”

You slip your fingers beneath the bar and easily slide the face-down card out from underneath it. As you pick it up, you notice the number and suite on the card face.

Eight of spades.

Husk is wearing the smuggest grin you’ve ever seen from him.

“...wow,” is all you can say, in genuine awe.

“Still got it, huh?” he says, beaming with pride, as he pushes himself back up to his feet. You hand him the card, and he shuffles it back into the stack he’s holding.

“That was amazing,” you say. “I’d love to see more tricks from you some time.”

“Glad you enjoyed it!” he said, glowing with a genuine happiness you weren’t sure he could feel anymore. He seems taken aback by the sudden emotion himself. He hums to himself as he shuffles the deck again, more as an excuse to show off his handiwork than anything else.

“You know, I should have known you were a magician,” you say as you take your seat at the bar.

“Yeah? What gave it away, the top hat?”

“There’s that… and there’s your disappearing act.”

His cheerful face turns confused as he raises an eyebrow. “Disappearing act?”

“Yeah. Whenever you talk to me, you make everyone else in the hotel disappear.”

“What-” Your meaning dawns on him, and he barks out a laugh. “How much have you been drinking?”

“You should know, you’re the one mixing them!” you shoot back.

“Heh… you’re cute, I’ll admit it.” He stops shuffling the cards and taps them on the bar to line them up again. “Here, I’ll show you another one. Think of a number from 1 to 13…”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

122 notes · View notes

bunnydolllies016 · 3 months

Text

Lab of the Damned

Chapter 1: Welcome Mc, to A.M.L!

(This is the first chapter of the main story of the Obey Me! Dark lab au! Be warned that future installments will include more gore and violence. The mc/reader is GN, so it'll be Obey me x Gn! reader. TW: Blood, dark themes mentioned, describes some violence.) Chp. 1 (you are here), Chp. 2(Coming soon)

"Greetings Mc!

We are sending you this letter regarding your application to work at Angel's Medicine Laboratory. We are so happy to welcome you to the A.M.L family! Please come into our main building as soon as possible through the hours of 8 A.M to 10 P.M for a tour and to sign your work contract. We'll provide you with your own living space as well so please bring your dear belongings.

We here at A.M.L. can't wait to meet you in person! We hope you'll love becoming part of our family.

Hope to see you soon,

Simeon Angel."

You couldn't believe it, even as you continued to hold the letter in your hands you couldn't believe it was real. You squealed happily and hugged the letter close to your chest, you can finally help make the world a better place! All the struggle throughout high school and a four-year college would finally be worth it. Also, you won't have to live with your parents anymore! You waste no time texting your parents the news, receiving congrats and support in a matter of minutes as you begin to pack up your more important items. Different outfits, some family photos, and anything else you held dear and wanted to keep with you. In the end, you had a backpack and gym bag full of stuff as you began to head out. By now your parents had rushed home to see you off and say their goodbyes. You got in your car and were off, it took you thirty minutes to finally reach the main building and it was around 1 P.M now. You sped-walked into the main building with your bags in hand, stopping to face the lady at the reception desk who seemed to be drawing something out, looked like some elaborate trap. You coughed to get their attention. The woman faced you, their pink rooted hair bounced a bit, and the blue in it looked like a good contrast to the pink. Their green eyes stared at you as they began to speak.

"Good Evening, Welcome to A.M.L., who are you and what do you need?" Their tone sounded slightly annoyed. 'Rude much?' you had thought to yourself.

"Hello, My name is Mc. I'm here for my tour and to sign my contract. Do I sign it here or?...." You say as you wait for their response. Instead, their neon green eyes look you up and down before they pick up their phone and dial a number. You hear them mumble your name over it before the person on the other line hangs up first.

"He'll be down here to get you and greet you shortly, please stay still and wait." They say before going back to drawing whatever they had been before you interrupted them. You decide to look at their name tag, 'Thirteen', what a weird name. Before you know it you see him, your eyes lighting up with recognition. Simeon Angel himself has come to greet you!

"Ah! You must be Mc!" He had begun to speak before a small bark sounded from his bag. You looked down at it just to be greeted by a light blonde chihuahua in a white hat. 'cute..' you thought to yourself. Simeon coughed before he chuckled. "Don't mind Luke, let's go to my office so we can get your papers signed," he says before motioning you to follow him into a nearby elevator. "Just leave your bags here, they'll be taken to your new living quarters by some fellow employees," Simeon states as he steps into the open elevator.

"Of course sir!" You say and do as told, dropping your bags in a nearby chair, and watching as they're taken by two mysterious people before you follow the slim male into the elevator. Eventually, you find yourself sitting at a desk, Simeon Angel behind the desk and in front of you.

"Well Mc, I'm happy to congratulate you in person! I have your contract right here, please do sign it." The man says with a smile as he hands you a clipboard, your contract on it. You briefly read it, not really paying attention to the details, he definitely wouldn't be hiding anything dark in this contract, right? You sign the contract and hand it back to Simeon, who smiles at you and stamps it, confirming you signed it. Simeon speaks up as he takes Luke out of his bag to roam his office, "Thank you! You're the most perfect person for this role! Here take this." The male before you hands you a watch, it looks... weird, you put it on anyway, and once on your wrist, it locked around it. "Don't worry about that! It's just waterproof." Simeon says, his smile still kind and bright as he stands up and motions you to follow. He leads you out of his office, leaving Luke in it as he takes you to go get your uniform and badge. You take the bag containing your clothes and ID, smiling at Simeon before you speak up,

"Thank you, sir!" You begin with a soft smile, "Which part of the lab will I be working?" You miss it but a dark look crosses Simeon's face as he softly smirks.

"I'll take you down there now!" Simeon responds as he motions you to follow again. As you walk with him, you notice he's taking you to a darker part of the building, it somewhat looks hardly used. He stops you at an elevator and digs out a badge, using it to call the elevator. "Your department is top secret, as stated in your contract you can not talk about this work with anyone at all, we'll know if you do." He says, his voice having a somewhat dark undertone despite the soft smile on his face. "Now come along, the tour begins now!" Simeon states as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, you waste no time in following him.

You feel nervous the lower the elevator goes and decide to speak up, "So, why is the department I'm in on such a low floor?" You ask nervously with a small smile, trying to think of what kind of work you could be doing down here. You jump as the elevator stops with a thunk, not expecting the elevator to sound like, especially when the rest of the building is so modern and well-built.

"Well Mc, you will be a caretaker of sorts for our... subjects... I know it won't be too much for you to handle! They're sure to love you..." Simeon says as the dark look on his face is still present, but he still is smiling. You raise a brow, didn't A.M.L claim to not use animals as product and medicine testers? "This is the entrance hall, where you'll use your watch against that machine to clock in." He speaks softly as he points to a machine in front of the both of you. He walks forward and expects you to follow of course. Your eyes widened as you entered the next area; It was a long hallway of some sort, different testing chambers on either side. As you walk beside Simeon you aren't listening as he speaks about each room. Your heart is full of fear and dread as you see what, no, who they are testing on. In the testing room, before you stands a man with white hair in a lab coat, a sinister and sadistic look on his face as he uses a cattle prod to poke and taze a much taller man with black hair, his red eyes showing displeasure and disgust for the man prodding at him, he doesn't even flinch as he is tazed, no spasming or reaction at all came from him, his clothes were disheveled from the prodding though. That wasn't the weirdest part of the man, no it was the very pointy ears, the black horns coming from his head and the four wings coming from his back, all pitch black and some feathers clearly missing, whether it be from this kind of abuse or stress you can't tell.

"W-what the fuck?" You stuttered out as you stepped away from the glass on the testing chamber, not seeing the amused expression Simeon flashed your way.

"That is one of the nine subjects you will be looking after! His name is Lucifer, he is one of the best "demons" we have!" Simeon states as if he is just talking about the weather and not a fully grown man he's having his employees test on.

You stare at the dark-skinned male before you, a look of shock and fear across your face as you speak up in a confused but fearful voice, "Nine? Demons? Huh?" Just as you were about to continue before loud crashing, low growls, and yelling interrupted you; they came from down the hallway. Looking over revealed more "demons", specifically two certain ones fighting. One was a dark-tanned male, with slightly pointed ears, a full head of white hair, and blue eyes that had a golden-yellow gradient. He has horns that look somewhat like spirals atop his head, large bat-like wings come from his back and they flap violently. He's on top of the other male, throwing punches as different scientists try to pry him off the man below him. The male below him has pale skin, and what seems to be scales on it in certain places, he, like the two before him, has pointed ears, but his seemed to have two different pointed ends, somewhat like fish fins. His hair is a blueish-purple color and his eyes are a glowing orange with a purple gradient, the whites of his eyes seem to be a slight grey color. His horns look like coral and are a black color but have a hint of blue to them, he also seems to have a long lizard-like tail.

"Ah, Mammon and Leviathan are at it again. We'll have to punish them...again..." Simeon says, his tone showing distaste but amusement at the chaos around him as he ignores your comment. A door behind you opens and you turn to check it out, you are horrified at the man who stood behind you. He had to be about 7'5 in height alone, he was so muscular and well-built, with a muzzle around his mouth and his hands cuffed in front of him as he looked down at you with interest; he was sniffing you through the muzzle. His hair is a bright orange, his ears pointed but droopy, and he has purple eyes that seem to fade into magenta and then red, one of the whites of his eyes isn't white, but rather an inky black color. Scars litter across his body, along with weird black markings, he has black horns that curve and almost crown his head, fly-like wings coming from his back buzz softly as he continues to stare down at you. "Beelzebub! Now, Now, stop drooling into your muzzle at your new caretaker's scent! Mc this is Beelzebub, Beelzebub this is Mc, your new caretaker!" Simeon says to the towering male standing before them, who looks at Simeon with a somewhat blank expression, you can see some fear and pain in his purple eyes as he stares at Simeon.

"Wait a damn minute please!" You cry out to Simeon, finally catching his attention, and now Beelzebub, who watches you closely but with clear hesitance. "I can't possibly work here after seeing all of this! This is s-so.. so.. fucked up!" You said as you took several steps away from Simeon.

Simeon stopped smiling, his expression dark and serious as he spoke, "You don't have a choice, you signed a two-year contract with us. You're stuck here...unless you'd rather face certain consequences for trying to go against your contract." As he spoke the watch around your wrist tightened and its screen flashed red. By the look on Simeon's face, you knew the consequence of going against him would either be death or the same fate as the subjects you'll be in charge of.

"B-but- I-" You tried to protest but Simeon put a finger to your lips to hush you, a sinister smile on his own lips.

"Shhh, Mc. You already signed away your life to me." Simeon began to speak softly, but his eyes showed sadistic amusement at your internal conflict about all of this. "If this really had bothered you..." Simeon begins again, Beelzebub looks at you sadly and with pity as a guard begins to walk him back to his containment chamber, he can tell you're a good person who just got caught up in a bad situation, he can only hope you stay a good person in here. "Then you should have read the fine print." Simeon finished speaking with a cold smile as he looked down at you. Dread filled you completely, these two years weren't going to end well.

"Welcome to A.M.L, Mc. I can't wait to see all the good work you'll do."

(Well I'm not sure when I'll be able to work on chapter 2, I just started my psychology class, so I'll try my best to work on it when I can. Hope you enjoyed it! This is also posted on my AO3 account and shouldn't be anywhere else but here and there.)

86 notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 3 months

Text

Welcome to:

We need to talk about Michael

The first post can be found right here, and I do recommend reading it first because otherwise you might not know what exactly I am talking about. As previously announced, we will now have a look at Michael, Uriel, and Gabriel in season two because our Archangels might not be as loyal as the Metatron thinks.

Part 2: Common Ground

I will start with the Apocalypse #2 meeting and the trial, since chronologically it happens right before season two, and we need the conclusions I will come to for later.

The plan for the apocalypse itself is something I've already talked about in a different meta post and there's even more to discuss, but to not get too off-topic, we'll leave it at "earth gets destroyed, heaven and hell go to war" for this one.

I don't know about you, but for me the trial has always felt... off, in a way, and I couldn't put my finger on why exactly—now I have a theory: The entire conversation around Gabriel saying 'no' was orchestrated, not just by himself but by him and Michael.

Armageddon is prevented and Gabriel falls in love with Beelzebub, who is unfortunately the prince of hell and thus the Enemy tm in theory. Practically, heaven and hell work closely with each other, and which angel he knows has established direct contact with dukes of hell?

Michael.

So Gabriel goes to her and together they talk to Beez to come up with a plan, because Michael wants Gabriel out of heaven just as much as he wants to leave heaven. Michael wants his job.

The solution is surprisingly simple: Find a way to make Gabriel fall, who then gets to be princess of hell and Beelzebub's sugar baby, Beelzebub gets to be with Gabriel all the time, and Michael—as duty officer and thus second in command—gets a promotion, taking the role of Supreme Archangel; they can keep working on their own plan with even more resources and influence.

Now they just need to find something grand enough to make THE Supreme Archangel falls, and nothing is better than the Great Plan, or rather, Gabriel refusing to stick to it. This is how we land in the middle of that fateful meeting.

Obviously, everything I am about to show and explain comes down to personal interpretation, but it feels pretty sound to me.

Angels can lie. Angels can lie really well, especially Archangels whose entire job description is to keep up elaborate lies and cover stories in order to keep the system running. I watched the meeting and focused on Michael, her facial expressions, and the eye contact she makes throughout.

As they are about to reach the 'everything ends, amen' part of it, Michael and Gabriel share a look:

We get a wonderful close-up of Michael right after, and to me this looks very much like a smile, a tiny rush of excitement before they begin acting on their shared plan. Then another one when he closes his eyes. It is the timing of the looks that makes me think they're purposeful and not just casual.

And apropos timing, I have re-watched the same two seconds at different speeds like fifty times now and Michael opens her eyes before Gabriel says 'nah'. BEFORE. Saraqael does not open theirs until after, but Michael opens them on his inhale, which sounds like the beginning of Amen, so she couldn't have known what he was going to say right there and then—unless she already did.

Which means she was expecting it, this was an intentional acting choice on Doon's part.

The entire conversation after does not feel like a fight, it doesn't feel like Michael is surprised by his decision. The looks they give each other SCREAM sibling banter, and I know that because I see my sister and me in them.

"I told you you could ask" with that teasing grin and Michael looking up afterwards like "God give me strength to deal with this idiot". No anger, no disappointment, no confusing, nothing. Just mild annoyance over his behaviour.

Then, when Gabriel drops his "only Archangel in the Universe" line, does Michael look angry? Furious? ANYTHING?

No. She smiles. It is all going according to plan and Gabriel is being a little shit, but she cares about him.

Once we reach the cleaning roster, there are more looks.

Like this one before we get a close-up of Gabriel, followed by a blink and you will miss it side-eye; then the lasting look Michael gives him, not annoyed but rather checking in.

Uriel sounds properly annoyed, she looks genuinely frustrated and upset with Gabriel, which makes Michael's behaviour seem even more out of line.

To summarize what we've got so far: Michael and Gabriel came up with a plan so he could go to hell and be with Beez while Michael would take over as Supreme Archangel in heaven. In order to do so, they had to find a fire-worthy offense, and saying 'no' to heaven's Great Plan and victory over everyone and everything certainly did the trick.

For now, it's all going according to plan. However, that won't last.

I am far from done talking about this, so with a big sigh—disappointed but not surprised—I will continue this in a third part, which will be all about the trial.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

#alex talks good omens #good omens meta #good omens michael #archangel michael #archangel gabriel #archangel uriel #good omens heaven #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen

63 notes · View notes

forlorn-crows · 1 year

Note

Crow, my love, may I make a request?

I am in need of an anxious, insomniac Aether going to another ghoul in the middle of the night for help. Any of them, I'm not picky, but I need them to soothe and reassure him while giving him a nice, slow handy that knocks him out. Holding him close and making him feel safe and comfortable.

♡♡♡

and you thought i would make this anything else but dewther? certainly not.

one quintessence ghoul in need of some tlc, coming right up ♡

Aether stares up at the ceiling, cursing the pain behind his eyes. The thoughts manifested themselves into spikes of pain almost three hours ago, worries keeping him up, tossing and turning. There’s certain perks to being connected to the void, to the endlessness that is quintessence. But with it comes bouts of worry, a leaky tap of anxiety that refuses to drain some nights. He feels numb. He feels restless. He feels fed up.

Aether rolls onto his stomach with a grunt. He shoves his face into the pillow, willing any of the pressure to ease. Beside him, Dewdrop stirs, snuffling in his sleep and turning into him. He feels small, lanky limbs wrap around his side, a pointy nose jab into his temple. Aether fights the urge to shove the little ghoul off, frustrated as he is. But it’s Dew, so he just grumbles into the sheets instead.

Dew stirs again, sighing heavily and intertwining their legs together. His nose traces a line up the side of his face, then back down again. He hears the fire ghoul sniffle, feels him flex his fingers against his bare skin.

“You’re awake,” Dew whispers.

Aether groans. “Yeah. Still.”

“Still?”

The quintessence ghoul nods sluggishly, mournfully into the pillow. Dew hums softly and begins tracing nonsensical patterns onto the skin of his back, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his fingertips. “Let me help,” he says simply.

“Please,” Aether groans again. He’s too exhausted to do anything but agree.

“Come ‘ere.” Dew pulls at his waist, urging him onto his side so he’s facing away from him. The fire ghoul curls up against him, pressing flush to his back and looping one arm under Aether’s neck and the other around his torso. His skin is pleasantly warm against his own. He’s about to say as much until Dew wordlessly ramps up his body temperature, radiating waves of soothing heat all along his back. It’s strongest between his shoulder blades where the fire ghoul has his face nuzzled, unraveling the tension there from the inside out.

Aether could cry with relief, he really could. “Oh thank Lucifer,” he groans, practically melting into the little ghoul. They’re quiet for a few moments, reveling in their little cocoon of warmth.

“Your brain is really loud,” Dew says then, letting the hand on Aether’s torso wander.

“What, can you hear it?”

“Don’t have to. Can tell you’re still thinking too hard.” His hand floats across Aether’s chest, heat radiating out from his palm, too. It’s nice like this. But Dew’s right, his brain is still as loud as ever, refusing to cooperate like the rest of his body.

“Can’t help it,” Aether mumbles. There’s a stinging at the corners of his eyes and seven hells he really doesn’t want to cry right now.

Dew holds his hand over the quintessence ghoul’s sternum with a firm pressure, that heat seeping deep into his ribcage. “I know,” Dew says. “You carry a big burden.” Aether doesn’t ask him to elaborate on what he might mean by that, but he can estimate close enough.

The fire ghoul’s hand trails down after a few more minutes of contented silence, smoothing along his stomach and coming to rest on the swell just before his hips. “Let me help keep it quiet,” he whispers. The spade of his tail tickles his calf as it finds a home wrapped around his leg. Dew presses closer still, shuffling so his chin hooks over Aether’s shoulder. “Let me help,” he says once more.

“Yeah,” Aether breathes, mouth falling open at the warmth now permeating through his belly. “Oh, Dew.”

“Shhh,” he soothes, dropping his hand lower still. Aether hadn’t realized how chubbed he’d gotten just from Dew’s hands until one of them wraps around his length, oh so gentle. It rips a wretched moan from his throat; so careful is Dew’s hand that he can’t help but melt completely.

Dew gives him a soft squeeze, encouraging. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. Aether really could cry. It’s so simple, his touches, his words, but it makes a world of difference. He can feel the angry buzz of his thoughts die down to a low hum the more he strokes, root to tip, root to tip—a lulling, loving rhythm.

Dew swipes a finger over the slit, dragging through a pearl of precum and spreading it over the head. The sensitivity makes Aether’s breath hitch and his cock kick in Dew’s hand.

“There you go,” the fire ghoul breathes.

Aether reaches behind him to grab at whatever inch of Dew’s skin he can reach. “Need to see you,” he whispers frantically. “Please, baby boy, need to see you.”

Dew shushes him again and scoots back just far enough for the quintessence ghoul to roll onto his back, hand never leaving his cock. He re-cements himself to his side, Aether cradling his back with a strong (trembling) arm, Dew’s head on his chest. His hair smells like shampoo and smoky cinnamon.

“Better.” It’s a statement of fact rather than a question, and Dew resumes his pace. It is better like this, his little ghoul curled against him, warm breath ghosting down his sternum, lanky leg thrown across his own thick thigh. Aether’s entranced by the way the ruddy head of his cock disappears and reappears in his loose fist, precum steadily coating the shaft with each pass.

He’s close already. As much as he wants to sink into it, let the wave of bliss wash over him and take him under, he selfishly—and stupidly—also doesn’t want it to end.

As if Dew can sense his hesitation, he lets out a sneaky purr, vibration and warmth rumbling through his ribs. “Just let go,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

Aether whimpers and bucks his hips against Dew’s hand. “Fuck, Dew.”

“That’s it, take what you need.”

“Fuck,” Aether repeats, voice croaking. His hand flies to the back of Dew’s head, tangling in his hair; the other digs further into the sheets. He grinds into it, shallowly thrusting up to meet each downstroke, precum drooling onto his stomach now.

"Close?" Dew asks softly.

Aether whines and nods his head, mouth hanging open. “Close, shit, make me cum, make me—”

His sentence dissolves into a throaty groan as Dew dips down to slide his mouth onto his cock, just far enough to close his lips around the head as he continues stroking. He swirls his tongue around it, warm and wet over the sensitive flesh. Aether digs his hands into the sheets, thighs twitching with every pass of Dew’s tongue.

“Dew, fuck, gonna cum, fuckfuckfuck,” he hisses, back already bowing off the bed. Dew hums and sucks hard on the tip of his cock, sending a jolt of pleasure straight up his spine. The dam breaks then, orgasm hitting him like a crashing wave, spurting straight into Dew’s mouth. He takes it without complaint, milking him for all he’s got with a firm but loving hand.

Dew pulls off when he’s done, giving him one last gentle squeeze before laying his softening cock against his stomach. He shuffles back up to snuggle into Aether’s side, placing a warm hand over his sternum. He rubs idly on his chest as he comes back down, soothing circles that calm his rapid heartbeat.

Aether sighs, shifting his body a bit to relax under the little ghoul. He hums when he finds a good position, sighing more deeply. Content. Satiated.

“Thank you,” he rumbles, voice already thick with sleep.

“Any time,” Dew whispers. He smiles to himself as Aether’s breathing levels out, already rumbling with the beginnings of a snore. “Love you.” The quintessence ghoul definitely doesn’t hear him, but he doesn’t need to, anyway. Dew pulls the blanket over them both, settling back into the arms of his mate.

#ask #miasma #ficlet #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #dewther #aether x dewdrop #dewdrop x aether #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dew is just. so soft for him okay. he cant not be

225 notes · View notes

anarchywoofwoof · 4 months

Text

sigh. i'm going to regret looking into this, aren't i?

TOLEDO, Ohio (AP) — Five companies have agreed to pay the federal government more than $7.2 million overall to resolve claims stemming from longstanding pollution in two adjacent creeks in the Maumee River watershed in northwestern Ohio. The settlement with Ohio Refining Co., Chevron USA, Energy Transfer LLC, Pilkington North America and Chemtrade Logistics was announced Monday by the U.S. Department of Justice. Officials said a federal judge must approve the deal before it takes effect. According to a complaint, the companies are liable for historic industrial discharges of oil or hazardous substances at the Duck & Otter Creeks site near Toledo. The site is just east of the Maumee River and encompasses the creeks, adjoining wetlands, floodplain areas and uplands. The two creeks flow into Maumee Bay in Lake Erie and provide key habitats for migratory birds and fish, and also support hunting and fishing activities for local residents, according to federal wildlife officials.

so before i do anything else, let me establish: when the AP says "near Toledo" they mean basically right in the middle of Toledo, Ohio (pop. 268,000~)

anyway, the AP article doesn't really elaborate on this, but we're talking pollution involving oil and discharge of cancer-causing polycyclic hydrocarbons (PAHs), arsenic and lead. cancer rates in this part of Ohio are relatively high, especially in neighboring Ottawa County. as a whole, cancer rates in Ohio have been on a steady incline over the last 2 decades.

back to the price being paid by these five companies highlighted above in red. that's really what i wanted to focus on here, because as we know, fines aren't actual enforcement of the law or justice. it is a cost of doing business for most companies.

so what is the true cost and how much are these energy companies gonna feel the impact to their bottom line?

Ohio Refining Co took some digging to find. according to this EPA documentation, it turns out that the parent company for Ohio Refining Co is - surprise! - BP-Husky Refining LLC. yes, that BP! in case you needed the reminder, they made $80.431 billion over the last 12 months.

we all know about Chevron. i mean fuck, they have an entire "Criticism of Chevron" wikipedia page dedicated to their bullshit. so i'll just throw out the numbers for this soul sucking corporation: $36.5 billion in profit for 2022.

next up we have Energy Transfer LLC. wait a second.... where do i know that name? oh yeah.

and they take home about $78.555 billion in revenue annually.

as it turns out, Pilkington North America is actually a subsidiary of a Japanese company - Nippon Sheet Glass. if my math is right, their annual revenue is around $5 billion USD.

lastly we have Chemtrade Logistics - a relative small fry - who boasts an annual revenue of $1.88 billion.

in case you weren't keeping up at home, these five companies have a combined annual revenue of $202 billion. their fine is $7.2 million.

with an annual revenue of $202 billion, that would mean that these five companies are making an average of $553 million every single day. this isn't even a drop in the bucket. this is barely 1% of one day's earnings for these companies. and at what cost to human health and safety?

#fuck capitalism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #us news #environmentalism #ohio #ohio news #toledo ohio

82 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 6 months

Text

pearl: march 1986

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 3.4k summary: hushed confessions midst the end of the world.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, violence / blood / description of injuries (events from s4), mentions of death / losing a loved one, adult language, use of pet names, emotional hurt / no comfort - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist

March 21, 1986

Everyone that’s ever met Eddie Munson, knows he’s not one for rational and thought out decisions.

As a matter of fact, even people that have never made an effort to get to know him also always just assume he acts on impulse. They’re all correct. He does tend to act on gut instinct. Based on his feelings rather than sound logic. He’s not one for overthinking and over analysing every single scenario. He acts purely by following his heart.

However, as Eddie stared into Chrissy Cunningham’s snow-like empty eyes, he deeply regretted not being a person who took a second before making a choice.

“Wake up, Chrissy.”

His own voice sounds panicked and honestly, how can it not be. She was pale and cold to the touch. This was beyond fucking weird, like some creepy horror shit and Eddie wanted no part of it.

“Chrissy, wake up!” He’s pleading, shaky hands tapping her shoulders nervously, “I don’t like this, Chrissy! Wake up!”

He finds himself still praying for this to be some sort of stupid prank, hoping that Jason Carver will jump out at any given moment with a video camera and a stupid grin plastered across his idiotic face, yelling: “We got you, freak!”.

Unfortunately, as the lights flicker out of control and the longer Eddie shakes the blonde's seemingly unconscious frame, the more he thinks this is definitely not a high-school prank ‘cause those idiots aren’t smart enough to pull off something as elaborate as this.

“Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy—”

Then the phone rings, startling him even more. He glances at the device mounted on the wall and his eyes gloss over with tears. He knows who’s calling. But he can’t answer, can he? You’d instantly sense something is off and he can’t risk you coming here out of worry and also being witness to… to whatever the fuck was happening right now. Plus, would you even believe him if he told you in the first place?

Hastily running a hand down his face, feeling nothing but extreme fright, Eddie approaches the phone and after quickly looking back at Chrissy, he places the handset to his ear.

“H-he- llo-”

The line distorts your voice. He can barely make out your greeting and the question that follows. Not like it matters anyway. Not like anything matters ‘cause Chrissy’s body lifts itself off the ground and is now floating mid-air in his small living room.

“What the f—”

“E-ed-die? A-re y-you oka—”

Chrissy’s unconscious frame flings itself against the ceiling with a thud and the metalhead drops the handset, chord dangling against the wall as his own body falls helplessly to the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yells as he tries to push himself backwards, deeper into the trailer

Every inch of him is terrified. He’s screaming now and he’s sure you can hear him on the other line. Then his gut instinct kicks in. The one he blamed for getting him into this mess in the first place is now urging him to get up and run. If not for his sake, than for the person he loved most in this world.

You’re no doubt going to either come here or call for help, or both, and when Chief Powell comes with his goon squad, they’re going to think Eddie’s responsible for this horrific scene. They’d lock him up, no questions asked.

And Eddie couldn’t have you thinking you killed this poor girl. He needed that chance to explain himself. Surely you’ll forgive him for running. Surely you’ll understand.

March 22, 1986

“I swear, I don’t even know her name,” Mr. Munson tells the police, “I never seen her ‘fore.” He exhales a long and no doubt exhausted breath, then briefly glances at you. “I got the call shortly after you guys did, I assume. Eddie’s friend here, well, she uh… she found the girl.”

“I think it’s— Her name is Chrissy,” you blurt out quietly, “Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chief Powell straightens his posture. His gaze narrows, only for his expression to soften a split second later. You assume it’s because you look terrible. Eyes puffy, makeup smudged from a mix of tears and stress, and your bottom lip won’t stop trembling.

“And how did Eddie know,” he pauses and lowers his voice, “Miss Cunningham?”

You shrug. “They go to the same school so I assume that’s where they met.”

Chief Powell nods, motions for Officer Callahan to come over, whispers something in the young police officer's ear, and without saying anything else to you, he walks away.

“Do you know where he went?” Officer Callahan asks.

“Eddie? No, I don’t.” You answer honestly, crossing your arms across your chest. “I-I heard him scream over the phone and when I asked what was going on and… h-he wouldn’t respond to me, I-I got here as fast as I could. Then I contacted the station and then Mr. Munson.”

“Eddie rang you?” Officer Callahan enquiries.

“I called him.”

“And did you know the young lady was with him?”

“No, I thought he was alone,” you say and glance at Wayne, who’s gone over to talk to another officer. He shoots you a timid smile, the best he can probably muster at this time, and proceeds to search the pockets of his pants for his packet of smokes.

You sigh. “Look, I know you’re probably thinking Eddie did this, but I can assure you, he did not.”

Officer Callahan raises a brow, as if to urge you to go on. So you do.

“When I called Eddie… Sir, I heard him scream. He sounded fucking terrified. Why would he be so scared if he’s the one that did this?” You pause, “I-I think there was someone else at the trailer last night and—”

“Thank you, Miss.” Officer Callahan interrupts and leans in a little closer towards you, “Since you heard some of what happened here last night, we’ll get someone from the squad to escort you home.”

“You think I’m in danger?” You practically scoff, “Eddie didn’t do this. He shouldn’t be chased down like some sort of criminal. He’s a victim here too!”

That turns a few heads, Chief Powell and Wayne included. You curse under your breath yet even though you can feel yourself getting really frustrated, all you can think about is Eddie. What he witnessed last night, the scene you came across when you arrived at the trailer, you’re convinced something’s happening in the Upside Down again. This whole circus is a total waste of time. Eddie’s not safe.

Chief Powell is now back in front of you. His hands are on his hips, trying to assert dominance, and a frown is spread across his features. “Look, kid, I liked your dad. He was a good man and what happened to him, well it’s no doubt caused you a lot of pain.”

You’re chewing on the inside of your cheek, fighting back the tears, as Chief Powell continues. “Please let one of my officers take you home, okay? Your mom is probably worried sick since gossip in this town spreads like wildfire,” he tries to lighten the mood but fails, “And I’ll make you a deal, okay? If you stay home with your mom, I’ll make sure when we find young Mr. Munson, we won’t treat him harshly.”

One of his hands is now on your shoulder, squeezing it in an act of reassurance.

“You’ll call me too,” you add.

Chief Powell nods. “You’ll be the first person I call. Deal?”

Growing up with a dad on the force exposed you to a lot of things kids normally don’t encounter until much later in life, if ever. Your dad taught you a lot. One of the things being: people aren’t always honest when their reputation is on the line. Chief Powell didn’t really care about what happened to Eddie, not even for your sake, which meant you had to do everything in you power to find the metalhead first.

“Deal,” you lie through your teeth, faking a kind smile.

However, you couldn’t do that alone.

“Dustin, please tell me you have something.”

Headset pressed to your ear, cord wrapped around your wrist. You’re bouncing impatiently and every so often, nervously peeping around the corner into the living room where your mom sat with Wayne.

They didn’t seem to hear you or your scheming, too lost in a conversation you really couldn’t follow right now. You had other pressing matters on your mind — finding your… your Eddie.

“If you stopped asking me every five seconds, perhaps I’d have more information to give you,” Dustin jeers. His tone is not meant to be harmful and you don’t take it that way. You’re just glad they all agreed to help. “Here, can one of you calm her down? I need to think.”

You assume he passes the phone to either Robin or Steve, and you’re proven right when the next thing you hear is, “Hey, how are you doing?”, in the smooth tone of Mr. Best Hair in Hawkins himself.

“How do you think?” You snap, quickly following your mini outburst with, “Sorry, this is just…”

“A lot?” Steve finishes your sentence and although he can’t see you, you nod against the headset.

“Well, our best people are on it. We’ll find him.” Steve tries to reassure.

“I hope so,” you breathe, once again glancing in the direction of Wayne and your mom. “This whole situation is just so fucked up and like really scary. I thought El closed the portal. I thought last July was the end of these encounters with the Upside Down.”

“We all did,” Steve mumbles on the other line, “But you can’t think ahead right now, okay? First thing is to find Eddie before anyone else does.”

As always, Harrington was right. “I know. I just wish I could be helping you guys, but instead I’m stuck here with a fucking police unit outside my home.”

Steve exhales into the headset. He’s about to say something when all of a sudden there’s a little commotion followed by some seemingly excited mumbling. You’re about to ask what’s going on when you hear my own being called over and over again on the other line.

“Tell me you still have your walkie?” Dustin is back on the line, “You know the one from last year’s Starcourt Mall events? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“I-I do, yeah. It’s somewhere in my wardrobe.”

“Go, go get it right now and make sure it still works,” Dustin instructs eagerly, “We have a good lead as to where Eddie is hiding out. We’ll contact you when we’re with him.”

You have questions that you don’t get to ask ‘cause a mere split second later, all you hear is the dial tone.

Your mind is spinning, heart racing. They found him. A small victory — although why didn’t it feel like one?

March 23, 1986

“So, I guess they told you everything, huh?” You ponder into the walkie, pulling the bedspread up to your chin.

The room feels dark and cold. You suppose, given the situation, it almost is. Your blinds are shut tight and you have the light switched off, so that any lurkers couldn’t suspect you’re sitting here — and since yesterday afternoon, that number has unfortunately increased significantly.

As soon as Jason’s goon squad found out about the situation, he sent a couple of his trusted “men” to keep an eye on you and your house. The police officers assigned to “protect” me, rotated in shifts, and dare you say have gotten a little too comfortable, knocking on your door to use the bathroom or smooth-talk your mom into making them coffee. Word also spread through town about Eddie being a devil worshipper and as his “girlfriend”, you simply had to be lying about his whereabouts. Honestly, all the crowd across the road is missing are pitchforks.

Idiots. As if you’d be stupid enough to lead any of them to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie exhales into the walkie, “They did.”

You swallow. “I-I suppose you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“No,” he’s quick to respond, “Not really. I mean, you did what you had to, princess. What you thought was right and I can’t be mad at that. But it does explain a lot. Like—”

“My nightmares,” you chime and Eddie chuckles lightly before agreeing. “Yeah, like your nightmares.”

There’s a moment of congenial silence.

You want nothing more than to be by his side and have him hold you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. Fuck. Tears form in the corners of your eyes at the thought. Not only was that not possible right now, neither of you knew when you’d actually see each other again. The topic loomed over your heads, yet you didn’t dare to utter the words aloud ‘cause things were so good recently, and now… Well, avoidance worked for you in the past, (for a while anyway).

“I’m sorry, Eds.”

“Don’t be, sweetheart.”

“Well, maybe if I told you sooner, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now. Maybe if you knew what we all knew, you could have come here instead of hiding out all alone. So yeah, I’m sorry. I’m always going to be sorry.”

Eddie sighs into the walkie. “Timing just never seems to be on our side, huh.”

When you don’t respond, because it hurts your heart, you half expect him to cut the conversation short, say he’s tired or whatever and wish you a goodnight. And you wouldn’t blame him either. You’ve all had a tough couple of days, but his must have been the most exhausting.

The metalhead seems to have other plans.

“Cry baby. Cry baby. Cry baby. Honey, welcome back home.”

You can’t help but crack a smile as Eddie starts singing softly. His voice, although a little distorted, is as angelic as ever and you let your eyes close, resting your head on the headboard — you’re not entirely sure at which point you drift off to sleep but you do, imagining the metalhead is next to you.

“I know she told you.

Hon', I know she told you that she loved you

Much more than I did

But I know that she left you

And you swear that you just don't know why

But you know, hon', I'll always

I'll always be around

If you ever want me”

March 27, 1986

The last few days have been a complete and utter blur, not to mention a horrifying mess.

You manage to sneak out of your over-guarded home, although your reunion with Eddie isn’t as happy as you both would’ve liked it to be ‘cause suddenly, you find yourselves in the Upside Down fighting for your lives.

Eddie helps Dustin up the makeshift rope before turning to you. The second his chocolate-like gaze locks with yours, a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t exactly tell what he’s thinking, but he’s serving an apologetic expression with a broken smile.

So you do what feels right in the moment and throw your arms around his neck, causing him to stumble backwards a little. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. If anything, his grip is a lot stronger than normal and you’re feeling even more concerned than seconds ago.

“Come on!” Dustin yells, “We don’t have time for this!”

The rest of the teens' words fizzle out into the background. All you’re focused on is the faint sound of Eddie’s heartbeat and his hushed breathing into the crook of your neck. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, but before you get to ask why this feels like a goodbye when you’ve just reunited, he places a kiss on your cheek and lets his arms fall.

“Go on, princess.”

You glance at the rope he’s now holding before looking back at him.

“Eddie—”

“Go on. I’m right behind you,” Eddie reassures and you don’t try to protest anymore because you trust him. Instead, you reach for the rope and begin to climb up, aware of his hands hovering over your lower back, ready to push or hold you up if needed.

You fall through and immediately stand to allow space for Eddie, however, the metalhead doesn’t follow. Dustin is yelling, urging Eddie on whose sole attention is on you. You realise then what he’s been planning and your throat dries to the point where it feels like sandpaper.

“Eddie,” you call out, voice breaking, “You said you were right behind. I-I am begging you, please, please, come here.”

He offers you a smile. One that causes your heart to falter. You know what he’s doing. You know now exactly what he’s thinking. Most importantly, you know what he’s going to say next and you don’t want to hear it. Not here.

“Please, Eddie.” you beg him, eyes watering, “Not like this.”

“I love you, princess.”

And before the admission can even settle in the air, before you get a chance to say that you love him too, desperately and with your whole heart, you’re forced to watch him rush off as Dustin hollers his name.

The room comes to a standstill. For a couple of seconds, you’re unable to move. Your body feels heavy as you’re staring blankly ahead at the spot Eddie’s just vanished from. He loves me, you think, bottom lip quivering. He loves me.

Inhale, exhale. You snap back to reality. The tears that have been forming in your eyes stop before they breach completely.

Dustin is pacing. He stops when you call his name: once, twice, three times. The two of you exchange a knowing glance. Neither of you speak. There’s no time. The young teen helps you without question. He's on the floor in seconds, ready to hoist you up.

It takes a few attempts, mostly because your whole body is shaking, but you manage to go through the portal once again.

“Don’t wait for me,” Dustin urges in a panicked tone. “Find him.”

All you do is nod.

Eddie’s not hard to find. His agonising screams give his location away pretty quickly. And you’re terrified as you run in his direction. Terrified of what he’s gotten himself into and terrified if he was gonna make it out alive.

He’s coughing up blood when you reach him. You immediately fall to your knees next to him and scan his extensive wounds, hands shaking. The scene in front of you is grisly. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with a way to help him — help get him out of here safely and to a hospital as soon as possible.

Ultimately you feel helpless ‘cause you’re not sure how to do that.

Eddie coughs again. His hand reaches for yours and he squeezes, bringing you back to Earth.

“Look at me,” he murmurs and you oblige without hesitation. “I-I’m okay, so get out of here.”

You shake my head rather ferociously. “I-I’m not leaving you.” You finally allow yourself to start crying, readjusting your position so that his head is now resting in your lap. “I shouldn’t have let you do this in the first place. Why did you do this, Eddie?”

“It’s done now.” Eddie does his best to offer you a smile. “I-I didn’t run. I fought back.”

The tears that are trailing down your cheeks are burning into your skin. You smile back, a broken smile with nothing but pain behind it, then brush some of his loose curls away from his face. You proceed to cup his cheek and Eddie leans into your touch. It’s a moment that feels safe — despite the fact that your intertwined fingers are resting on his chest and you can feel the blood seep through.

He squeezes your hand again. “I-I meant what I said—”

“Not like this,” you interrupt in a whimper, “Ehm… Uhm… Dustin will be here soon a-and we’re gonna get you out of here together. You’re gonna be okay. Then you can tell me again, okay? Not like this, Eddie.”

But he just shakes his head. “Yes, yes like this. I-I love you.”

“Eddie—”

“P-please, sweetheart. Please. I love you…”

Eddie’s voice fades into the darkness that’s surrounding the two of you and his eyes drift close.

You say his name.

When you gauge no reaction, you say it again, and again, and again.

Then you scream.

First in agony, then you scream his name. You beg him to open his eyes, but he’s unresponsive. Bloody hand in yours, he’s drifting somewhere between life and death and you continue to cry.

That’s how Dustin finds you. Eddie, dying in your arms.

pearl masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys , @kurdtbean

#im sorry in advance—#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson story #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson angst #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #pearl (eddies version)

94 notes · View notes