#*taking a drag from a cigarette and sighing* these guys are trying to kill me

[bachirasbodyguard]

i think about this daily. btw

[augustinewrites]

tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation. 

“how did you guys end up together?” 

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.” 

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.) 

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you. 

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose. 

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary. 

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised. 

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel. 

he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both. 

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him. 

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning. 

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.” 

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark. 

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

���do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.” 

“you didn’t even look!” 

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.” 

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.” 

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully. 

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.” 

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.” 

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.” 

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.” 

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

[gayboydetectivez]

Tw smoking

Dbda drabble

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.

.

"Job officially jobbed, good work, guys!" Charles smiled at his companions, coat still covered in green slime from the evil plant they had just killed.

It hadn't been a difficult case, comparatively, but hunting through the forest for a cursed bush and then losing the bottle of weed killer had made it significantly more difficult than intended.

"We should head back to the office." Edwin replied, still scratching notes into his book as he led the walk back to the bus stop.

After a few minutes crystal began digging in her bag, retrieving a small paper box and a lighter. Pulling one of the thin sticks from the box, putting it to her lips, she ignited the end, inhaling deeply.

"You smoke?" Charles asked incredulously.

"Is that uncommon now?" Edwin chimed in, a confused look on his face.

"It's frowned upon, but plenty of people still do it." Crystal answered, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. In her months with the agency, she had grown accustomed to Edwin's cultural questions, no longer being overly sarcastic in response to his genuine confusion over time period differences.

Edwin hummed thoughtfully, watching the grey plumes curl in the air before being swept away by the wind.

"Did you ever smoke, Charles?" He asked after a moment.

"Occasionally. When the lads had a carton or I was at a party." Charles answered simply, leaving out the risk coming home smelling of cigs posed to 16yr old him and his fathers impact on his lack of typical teen rebellion. "You?" He asked, mainly to be polite. Charles knew Edwin had a sheltered childhood, as most childhoods seemed to be during his era, but he had grown fond of their usual back and forth routine.

"Me? Oh yes, quite frequently." He answered, earning duel shocked expressions from his companions.

"You smoke?" Crystal asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

"Well it has been over a century..." He corrected snarkily, "but yes. It was common place when I was alive for boys as young as 10 to get their first cigarette case and begin smoking. It was a right of passage of sorts, i suppose." He shrugged.

"Next you're gonna tell us you were shooting whiskey and doing lines of coke." Crystal retorted, earning a chuckle from Charles, who despite being well aware of his best mate's rebellious nature, simply couldn't imagine him getting drunk and doing drugs like some rockstar Charles had on his bedroom wall as a child.

"'A gentleman does not shoot whiskey, he sips it'" Edwin quoted, allowing Charles for a moment to envision what Edwins father had sounded like, "and cocaine was a very powerful and frequently prescribed medicine. It was a main ingredient in cough syrup." He informed his stunned counterparts.

Charles tried to press back the images flashing in his mind of Edwin drunk, cheeks pink, smoke swirling around him as a cigarette balanced carelessly between his fingers.

"Can ghosts smoke?" Crystal asked unprompted. "Like have you tried?"

"I can't say I have," he said, "though there were moments in Hell where I thought I could have killed for a cigarette and a drink." He added, laughing the way he usually did when speaking of Hell. Casual but with a faint tightness to it, not quite forced but not quite natural either.

Crystal dug the cardboard pack out from her bag again, offering one to Edwin. He gave his usual resigned sigh and took one, rolling the white stick between his long fingers, inspecting it, before bringing it to his mouth. Charles breath caught in his throat. Crystal flicked the lighter and Edwin leaned in to inhale through the flame. The smoke plumed around his face as his eyes fluttered shut in memory.

He exhaled a small cloud and looked at the expectant faces around him. "I can't exactly taste it, but it is rather pleasant." He answered their unasked question, taking another drag. If Charles could blush, he would be the same color as his shirt. "My apologies, would you like to try?" Edwin asked, holding the lit cigarette out to Charles who had spent the majority of this time staring at him in stunned awe.

Charles looked from the offending item to his partners expectant face and back again before sliding the cigarette from Edwin's thin pianists fingers and placing it in his own mouth. He tried not to think too hard about the fact it had also been in Edwin's mouth just moments ago. He inhaled, smoke filling his chest, the usual subtle burn missing as it flowed down his windpipe and back out again. Edwin had been right, he could almost taste it. The usual flavor dulled by death, instead a faint earthy flavor filled his senses. It was familiar enough to recognize as tobacco but lacked the overpowering taste.

Blowing out the smoke, he smiled at Edwin's expectant face. "That's brills." He said, returning the cigarette to his partner.

[urhoneycombwitch]

breathe in the air

eddie x reader x steve. part i

foreword: this is part one/set up for a fic I’ve been chewin’ on. cw is for both parts and will get updated- no actual smut in this first one but please heed the tags anyway. +18 mdni as always. (@somnambulic-thing you inspired me to write from Eddie’s pov! 💖)

cw: smoking (weed and nicotine), R’s hair is mentioned but unspecified texture/length, also wears Eddie’s shirt, R has breasts + V,  Eddie and Reader are both varying degrees of stoned while performing sex acts (please be safe IRL and don’t read if that makes you uncomfy!!), pt. ii will have: voyeurism (Eddie and R fool around and Steve watches), blow jobs, masturbation, both the boys being Down Bad™️

wc: 2.5k (part i)

_____

The sun has sunk low over Forest Hills, Eddie’s room cast in deep blue where the golden path of his bedside lamp doesn’t touch.

He’s lighting up a post-sex cigarette, one of the best things this shitty world has to offer, in his opinion- second only to feeling your warm body against his; writhing and wriggling with pleasure, neck craned to let him lick the sloping sweat from your skin- or times like now, when you’re calm and satiated, nude under the comfort of sheets and the weight of your head on his chest.

Casting a hand out to shuffle blindly through the bedside table, Eddie wraps his other arm around the sleepy length of you, pulling you tighter to himself; your response a wordless, happy little noise. His hand deep in the drawer catches on a stray cigarette, then around the hard plastic of a spare lighter. With a sigh of contentment, he kisses the top of your head before bringing the filter to his lips.

Sparks catch under his thumb, cherry of the cig burning red- like some sort of sleeper agent responding to the click, you sit up with a jolt, stealing the mess of sheets upwards, exposing Eddie’s lower half to the cool air.

Eddie swears, startled- thinking you were almost asleep, he’d been nearly careless with the open flame- tossing the lighter aside, he reaches towards your back that now faces him. “Jesus, babe. Give a guy some warning before you snap to attention like a damn general.”

Thumb pressed to the notches of your spine, palm wide around your lower back, Eddie can feel the quiet giggle that shakes through your ribs.

 “Sorry,” you whisper once you’re finished, still staring at the far wall like you're trying not to break a spell. Your arms are crossed, sheets bunching around your chest- “Had a thought.”

“Must’ve been a good one,” Eddie muses, thumb following the line of your spine down, like he’s petting an oversized cat.

In true feline fashion your back arches into his touch, encouraging his palm to sweep up again, to your shoulder blade this time as you murmur, “I wanna go swimming.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s immediately agreeable, taking a long drag from the cig, letting smoke fill out the hollows around his lungs. “We’ll go to Lover’s Lake tomorrow. Heard it’s gonna be a hot one.”

Hawkins is having a record heat wave for the second summer in a row- as if all the damn underground monster shit and horrific earthquakes of last year weren’t enough already: global warming to top it all off. The sun has been merciless these last few weeks, peaking midday, nothing for it but to lie in a heated daze on the kitchen tiles of whoever’s house is the least amount of bitch to get to.

Not that Eddie’s complaining about you being half-naked most of the time. He thinks this is the year you might actually kill him, now that he can touch you, call you his- every curve of upper calf in those short shorts, every soft slip of stomach peeking out from cropped tops- he’s got enough spank bank material to last until his deathbed. (Which he’s decidedly allowed to joke about, since, ya know, the whole almost-dying thing last spring.)

Eddie moves on haptic memory to set aside his cigarette, searching pinky-out for the lip of the ashtray (ceramic, with a poorly-drawn Snoopy, the ears far too big- you’d laughed until you cried over it at the thrift store; he was fifty cents poorer that day but rich and dizzy off your glee). 

“No, not the lake. And I wanna go swimming now.” There’s a hint of petulance in your voice, walking the thin line of childish whine that only appears these days after you’ve smoked, tongue and desires loosened and lax with the help of the finest hash stash in Hawkins. 

There’s a smile threatening to split Eddie’s face in two. He’s been working at that hard-won wall of your solitude for ages now, showing rather than telling you it’s okay to ask for things, that you’re safe to make requests and hell, even demands, from him. Eddie’s not sure what he wouldn’t do for you, at this point- hasn’t found that line yet. Probably doesn’t exist.

A monster of my own design, he thinks, fondly, sweeping the hair from your neck so he can see the outline of cheek and jawbone, reflective with lamplit glow. “Baby, there’s nowhere to swim right now- it’s dark and that’s not real safe. Tomorrow I’ll make us some sandwiches- we can drive out to the lake, you can get stoned and I’ll play lifeguard.”

It’s probably too much to hope you’ve swallowed this bitter pill of compromise in silence, but based on the lack of response, it’s certainly possible. Eddie presses his thumb into the muscle where your neck meets shoulder, massage a silent apology for saying no when you’d been so good to ask. 

Crickets chirp in chorus outside, sound dampened by the glass window- he needs to open it soon, get the hot air out and night breeze flowing (though he is loath to replace the heady smell of sex wrapped like a cozy blanket around his room).

He feels you shuffle under his hand, eyes popping open to watch- you’ve tucked your chin over the dip in your shoulder, looking down the slope of your own nose at him, an expression on your face that makes Eddie’s stomach flip (with nerves, fear, excitement, hard to pinpoint exactly).

Your voice is quiet but steady when you speak, Eddie’s massaging fingers freezing to a halt when you say, “I know a place, open right now, with a lit-up pool. And a lifeguard.”

A thin tendril of smoke from the ashtray floats into Eddie’s vision as he stares blankly at the ceiling for a moment. Then he sits up, crushing the cherry into Snoopy’s wavered outline (sorry, pal) before brushing arms with you, patient and stern with a headshake to match- “No way, sweetheart.”

“Why-y?” That petulance is back, Eddie’s heart kicking up in response; it’s your turn to give the physical affection, winding your arms in a closed loop around his neck, forehead bumping against his jaw as he works it back and forth. 

His stitched-tight resolve quickly unspools as the wet plush of your lips track a path across his throat; he clears it before squeezing at your side again, one last argument to try and stick like cooked spaghetti to a wall. “You’re high.”

You snort, puff of breath sending goosebumps across his skin, rapidly cooling from lack of your affection- “Yeah, and you’re not. So you can drive us there, and then smoke again with me before we go in, and Stevie boy will keep us safe in that nice, heated, well-lit pool of his.”

Even as you speak, Eddie’s shaking his head, but it’s more in disbelief of his own weakness (namely: you). He slips a hand to your cheek, pulling back to take you in- mischief shimmering like twin stars in your eyes as you lock onto his gaze, lips parting pliant when his thumb swipes at your bottom lip. 

“You gonna behave yourself?”

It’s less of a question and more of a check-in, the meaning behind the words an undulating variable, a riddle with a thousand different answers.

The one you do give is complimented by a wicked grin, punctuated with a quick kiss (awfully chaste, considering your bare front pressed against his), your mirthful delight at having won both unsettling and tantalizing.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

With a sudden push to his chest, Eddie goes down easy for you, hair spreading riotous across the pillow as you move with shocking fluidity to throw a leg over his hip. Your hands meet in the middle of his chest, just under the rippling ink of a crow in flight, settling your weight comfortably on his stomach. 

Eddie’s sure you can feel his pulse, jack-rabbit fast, as you dip to kiss beneath his jaw. His hands automatically settle on your hips, grip tightening with each loving kiss you scatter over his collarbones, his sternum.

He’s half-hard under the sheets by the time your lips find the hitch of his ribs, stuttering and expanding to meet your mouth- can’t be faulted, really, not when your bare chest gleams in the low light, the top of your head imploring for the warmth of his wide palm to rest. 

Just when Eddie thinks he’s in the clear, that the call of your needs (evident in the slickness pooling just under his navel where your naked cunt rests) will drive the call of your wants to distraction, you sit up again, using your planted hands as leverage to swing completely off and away.

The coldness of your absence is cruel and unusual punishment. Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, deciding right then that he won’t be above begging tonight- when you suddenly reappear with a clean beach towel in either arm, pulled from the bowels of his closet.

There’s youthful, honest enthusiasm to your movements- something that’s catching, apparently, ‘cuz Eddie’s tipping himself out of bed with a resigned sigh, pulling boxers over his flagging dick and answering your spree of questions about these new evening plans.

“Sure, bring a water bottle. No, babe, we don’t need sunscreen- it’s night. Yeah, I’ll bring more weed. How ‘bout you bring me that old shoulder bag and we can bring some stuff with us.”

As you work on digging through the mess of a combined closet to find something suitable for swimming, Eddie folds the two towels that you’d found along with a baggie of joints into the bag. You’re humming under your breath while getting dressed, and Eddie’s staring at all the leftover space- what does one pack for a nighttime high swim with one’s girlfriend and the guy you’ve both sort-of mentioned threesoming with?

He tosses in a well-loved edition of your favorite book of poems, figuring the Harrington abode will have plenty of snacks. Food for the mind, he thinks, then snorts at his own joke. 

“C’mon, snorty.” You beckon from the doorway, an old t-shirt of his just swishing past the dark strip of your bikini bottoms, van keys held aloft. 

At the front door, there’s a brief argument about coats (you think you’ll be fine without, Eddie disagrees vehemently) which Eddie wins, wrangling your arms into the sleeves of his oil-stained work jacket before locking the front door behind you both.

Eddie smiles, a secret, pure thrill watching you tiptoe gingerly across the gravel on bare feet (too stubborn to actually wear the sandals that hang from either hand). His coat is bunched up around your ears while your legs poke out like some sort of winterized bird with bare legs. 

There’s a bright pang of love that suddenly hits hits sideways, a dizzying urge to sink on denim knees to the ground, sharp rocks be damned, just to kiss the tender spot behind your knees, to feel the hill of your calf under his tongue…

Your giggle breaks his reverie, impatient and pointed jiggling of the locked passenger handle clunking out into the quiet park. “Quit staring, weirdo. You coming?”

Hope so, Eddie thinks, spinning the key ring in looping arcs around his pointer finger. He bypasses the porch steps completely, boots hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Your cheery mood is sustained during the short car ride as you chatter animatedly about some coworker drama that you forgot to catch him up on, Eddie’s hand drawn like a magnet to your upper thigh while he drives. 

But by the time he’s pulling the van next to Harrington’s beemer, your eagerness has waned, speech drifting off into silence once he’s parked. 

“Hey.” His voice draws you back to him, a bit, your eyes too wide and roving for his liking, coat sleeves clenched around opposing fists as you hang onto his words. “Sweetheart. We don’t have to go inside. Can go anywhere- diner for some food, back home, the damn trash heap for all I care. Just want you to feel safe.”

“I do,” you counter, earnest but chest still punching a fast rhythm. “I feel safe. I just… you think he’s even awake?”

There’s a yellow glow coming from one of the second-floor windows. Your fingers twist harshly around fabric in the dark, breath loud. 

Eddie nods, then kills the engine and grabs behind his seat for the Ziploc of pre-rolls, an offering held to you between two ringed fingers. “Want a bit of Green Courage before going in?”

The van windows are soon fuzzily obscured with a haze of smoke, sprinklers for the pristine lawn nearby hissing to an automated start at the turn of 11 PM. The weed coaxes your earlier state of relax to the forefront, this time with an added layer of giggles, which Eddie finds desperately cute. 

He’s sure he’s high now, too, ‘cuz he’s unintentionally focusing really hard on your lips as you speak, and you’re letting him, corner of your mouth quirking when you ask, “Gonna take me inside, Munson?”

“Uh huh.” An automatic response, just so he can keep staring- when you pop the handle of your door open Eddie reaches, faltering before landing on your face, cupping the tilt of your cheek- “Meant it. Earlier. Just say the word. Take you anywhere.”

Weed fragments his speech but you melt with understanding, leaning into his hand, your lashes sweeping sweetly at the bridge of his thumb as you whisper, “Okay.”

You’re out the door and he’s left scrambling in the wake, hauling the strap of the packed bag over one shoulder and snapping up your forgotten shoes from the footwell. He locks the doors (nevermind that this is a nice neighborhood, can’t trust rich people farther than he can throw ‘em and Eddie has always been better at running over shotput on field days) and hikes it across the grass to where you stand, a beacon of beauty under the porch light.

“Ready?” he asks.

Your bare foot- flecked with wet grass- trails up the back of your opposing leg, veins at the whites of your eyes spidering pink with anticipation (and the fresh joint) as you turn to smile at him. “Yeah. Bring it on.”

“Your wish, my command,” Eddie says, winking, knuckles pulled into a fist to rap at the front door of one Steve Harrington. 

___

[END: PART ONE]

[leilohsstupidgaystuff]

Half a year had passed, since Charles, Hank, Erik and this other weird guy from the future, had stopped, what was supposed to lead to the end of the world. Charles hoped they had stopped it. There was no sure way to tell, but they would know in a few decades. Well, maybe Charles wouldn’t survive that long, but the others would probably find out, even if he had died because of an overdose till then.

It was not like Charles was planning to overdose, but it was also not like he did something actively to prevent it from happening. 

The first week after the stadium accident, Charles had tried to stay sober, but the school was still closed and Raven and Erik had left him again, so the mansion was still empty, which reminded him of his childhood and the last ten years, which both were shit as hell.

And on a really bad day, he had found pills that they hadn’t thrown away and in that moment being sober wasn’t as great, as he had remembered it, so he had took them. The disappointment on Hanks face after sobering up a bit, was reason enough to get high again and after that Charles hadn’t need any reasons anymore. He just got high, to be high. 

And after ten years, getting high was a bigger challenge then at the beginning, he had to take more drugs and more alcohol to get there and today the thought of an overdose hadn’t been scary enough, so Charles took a pill more than he had yesterday, which lead to a really great trip. Well, maybe not “great” in the common definition, but let’s just say Charles was really fucking high.

Laying in bed, he took a sip of the bottle of whiskey in his hand -the glass had shattered, after Charles had thrown it against the big, red and blue striped spider, that slept in the hallway, blocking it- and starred at the ceiling were the little pink flower just started to dance rumba with the cactus. Well she had said it was rumba, but Charles believed it was a waltzer. 

He heard footsteps but ignored them. Maybe it was just the clown he met on the toilet earlier, well the place he had believed was the toilet. The footsteps stopped somewhere near the door.

“Hello, Charles.” Charles closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh god! I hate hearing voices on drugs. I take them to not hear them. I mean if they already try to kill me, they should at least do their fucking job.” He opened his eyes again, to see that the pink flower just started to do a tap-dance and fumbled in his pocket for the pack of cigarettes and the lighter.

“Charles. I’m no voice in your head. What are you talking about?” After lighting himself a cigarette, Charles turned his head to the general direction the voice in his head pretended to come from. “Yeah, just because I’m imagining seeing you here, doesn’t mean your voice isn’t in my head.” Erik, well the image of Erik, frowned. “Charles-“ “Why do you feel the need of saying my name every time you speak? You’re in my head, I think I know that you’re talking to me.” 

Charles took a drag of his cigarette. “You know I don’t remember, imagining you since before the whole stadium shit,” he said to the image of Erik, which still stood in the doorframe, looking a bit helpless. “It’s kinda funny, because now I see you with all of the lines and shit. I always just saw you like you looked before you shot me and that stuff.” Charles looked at the figure in the doorframe, while he exhaled the last bit of his cigarette, putting the stub out on the bed frame. “Well at least you’re not naked this time,” he muttered. 

Eriks image slowly walked into the room. “I’m real. You’re not imagining me.” A dry laugh escaped Charles lips. “I hate that bit, it’s so boring. You weren’t real the first hundred times and you aren’t now. I don’t get why you’re always trying to convince me otherwise. You could just get to the point where you’re insulting me, it would be much faster.” Eriks image stopped in his movement. “What?”

Charles sighed and sat up, putting his feet on the ground. “You know, ‘You’re pathetic, how could you think, you were ever more to me, than just something to fuck’, ‘You were just funnier to play with, than your sister’, ‘What happened in Cuba was all your fault’, ‘Raven left you because she never loved you’… That stuff.” The image of Erik blinked, its eyes looking teary for a second, before it crossed the room, coming towards Charles. “Why does my mind always think, you could touch me? You’re just going to dis-“ Charles froze, as he felt the warm touch of a hand cradling his face. Not letting go Erik slowly dropped to his knees in front of Charles.

“Look at you. You’re beautiful. I never stopped loving you, not for a single second. I always loved you and I always will love you. From the moment I felt you in my head, calming me down, saving my life in the water, looking at me with these beautiful blue eyes and this fucking smile, my heart belonged to you. I was so stupid for leaving you. Believe me when I say that there’s been not a day, in which I didn’t regret it.”

Charles hand shook, as he touched Eriks shoulder, moving up to his neck and then to his hair, slightly pulling on it, as he moved trough it. “You’re real.” His voice wasn’t more than a shaky whisper. Tears started to roll down Charles cheeks. “You’re here.” Charles also dropped to his knees, burying his head in Eriks neck, breathing his scent in. “You’re really here.” Charles hands grasped into Eriks shirt, nearly ripping it.

After a really long time, Charles raised his head slowly, looking into Eriks eyes. “You know, I would probably punch you again, if It wasn't so hard to concentrate right now.” Erik smiled slightly. “I know.”

[mins-fins]

where do we go

&&. conversations between lung destroyi— i mean, smoking cigarettes.

pairing: lee donghyuck x gn!reader

genre: some weird thing idk..

warnings: smoking, readers got some bad friends

word count: 0.9k

notes: can you believe this.. TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY!??? okay my first hyuck post today was a timestamp i posted while on the bus home but hey!! two posts in one day is crazy.. also both of them being for haechan, i don't like him guys i just had two good ideas containing smoking and he was the first idol that came to mind 😖 he's the loml fr 💗 but no no no im not a sunflower dont get it wrong 🙏 also i dont smoke, based this off shit i've read and observing all the adults in my life who smoke around me 🙁 dont crucify me for not being accurate #smokers

"you have a lighter?"

the question strikes you as odd. you snap out of your street lamp gazing and turn to the stranger beside you. you blink a few times, as if you couldn't fathom why such a question would be asked. the stranger waits patiently for your answer, mouth seemingly zipped shut after asking the question. "what?" you inquire like an idiot.

"a lighter" he reiterates, raising an inflammable joint tucked between his index and middle finger in the air. you allow for your mouth to form a small 'o', and you clear your throat, suddenly feeling flustered. he snickers lightly, and your almost afraid that he's laughing at you. "you don't smoke?"

you smile weakly, just sighing as you begin rummaging through your pockets. "no it's just.. today's not my day, i'm upset about some shit that's all" when you finally find the lighter you remember you placed into your pocket, you passed it over to him with a throw. "here".

the stranger doesn't seem to be that interested in your lighter anymore, his face coloring in concern at the sound of you being upset. you aren't sure why he even cares, there's no reason for him to. you ignore his look of concern, just rubbing your eyes. "oh? what's upsetting you so much?"

you allow for yourself to snort at the words. "it's nothing, really, i don't want to burden you with my issues" you dismiss him with a wave, watching as he lights the cigarette and takes his first drag of the joint.

"no please" he responds, blowing the smoke out through his lips. he tosses you back your lighter. "you gave me your lighter, so i'll sit here and listen to you vent your issues" he places a prideful hand on his chest, as if you were supposed to celebrate him for that or something.

"wow, should i clap for you to honor such generosity?"

"well you don't have to, but i would love if you did" oh! so this guy is a comedian, your tongue pokes through your inner cheek as you let out another silent sigh, straightening your posture in your seat. your train isn't coming for another ten minutes.

"oh lord where are my manners? lee donghyuck!" he pairs a charming smile with his introduction, and you almost laugh (key word: almost) at the allure of this stranger. he holds out his hand for you to take, presumably for a handshake, and it's not like it'll kill you or anything, so you take his hand, shaking it.

"l/n y/n" you respond, he doesn't hold your hand for long, his grip quickly slipping away from yours as he leans back in his seat sighing.

"alright then, y/n" he begins, playing with the joint in his fingers. "what's making you so upset tonight?"

"do i have to tell you?"

"would you rather sit here in silence and watch me destroy my lungs?"

the answer to that question is easy, no, when given the ultimatum, talking about your issues seems much easier than whatever else he was saying. "it's just— my friends suck! they call me overdramatic for wanting birthday gifts and then they proceed to blow up my phone with texts!"

donghyuck raises an eyebrow, blowing out more smoke. "they didn't even try to get you gifts?"

"they didn't even remember my birthday!" you shout, getting more and more irritated as you recall the incident. "i've literally gotten ignored all day, they only just remembered like two hours ago! can you believe that?"

"what a bunch of assholes.." he mumbles, a smell of burnt cigarettes in the air. "what kind of friends are those?"

"right? and now they're just expecting me to answer their calls!? they can go to hell for all i care!"

"petty" donghyuck comments absentmindedly, his smile doesn't go unnoticed by you, he has such a nice smile, you note. "i like it" he says again, playing with the joint in his fingers.

"i have every right to be petty, they don't deserve my attention.." you brush dust off your sweater, looking forward at the train tracks, your eyes cast up at the board which usually displays how long until your train comes. "you've gotta be fucking kidding me".

"what's wrong now?"

"train is delayed".

"ah" donghyuck resists the urge to laugh at your look of defeat, he doesn't want to upset you. "guess were gonna have to walk home".

you groan at the idea, but you stand up, though begrudgingly. "i don't live anywhere near this place" you shove your hands into your pockets, now annoyed by the fact that you'll have to walk home, just another horrible thing to add onto your horrible day.

"well, we could always walk together".

at donghyuck's suggestion, you give him a baffled look, and he finally does laugh at the look you share with him, taking another drag of the joint tucked between his fingers. "were still strangers, i'm not sure that's safe".

"you gave me your lighter, were basically soulmates".

the statement makes a baffled chortle escape your lips, and you click your tongue at his words. you try your best to ignore the constant buzzing of your phone. "wow, your a comedian aren't you?"

"a proud one too".

the words get another laugh out of you, and you look down at the floor, at your moving feet. "at least let me walk you out of the station, i don't want to leave you here".

"how endearing, lee donghyuck" you tease, finally looking up at him and meeting his eyes. he seems to like those words, because he allows for his lips to turn up into a grin. he drops his cigarette onto the ground and puts it out with his foot. "fine, i'll let you walk me out".

"thank you! i won't disappoint!"

[adventuringblind]

So Powerful, So Vulnerable

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mafia AU, more crack than anything with the way I wrote it.

Summary: Lando has a meeting on neutral ground. Oscar has to make the switch. How'd she get caught in a petty crossfire?

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, gun violence, knives, blood,

Notes: This was far more fun to write than I expected. Another request done!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She sighs, watching Lando hit his head on the steering wheel of the car. She wants to laugh at his dramatics. You'd think he wouldn't be so whiny since he's in charge of the areas strong Mafia, but she knows the truth.

"I Just - they had one job!" He moans and throws in a fake cry for good measure.

Oscar keeps throwing her looks from where he's spread out on the backseat. He and Lando also make it a point to keep her in the passenger seat and switch who drives. "It's an easy fix. Ten minutes tops, in and out, then back to our original plans." The Aussie shrugs.

"You'll make the switch?"

"Obviously, and if they shoot first, I'll shoot better."

~~~~~

The club rages around her. Not her preferred method of doing business. Dealing with people isn't her strong suit unless it's with a bullet to the head from the top of a building. Knives are fun to when things get messy.

The crowd is safer than the car if this does go south. Not that she's expecting it to, but better safe than sorry.

Oscar is already gone. He drops the money and gets the hostages while Lando goes to meet them on neutral ground. Simple as that.

Her job is to look pretty and watch the door that Lando had disappeared through. Mocktail in hand to make it look like she's part of the normal crowd.

Technically speaking, they'd only been together for the last year. Her and Oscar much longer than that. Though she has a sneaky suspicion Lando kept assigning both of them to the same jobs for a reason. If any jobs came up that required Lando to go out and needed people with him, they were the first he contacted.

If she had to guess, she'd say he orchestrated this relationship. She wouldn't have it any other way. It's not like any of them know how to do anything normally.

She tries not to grimace as a man saunters up to her. His movements unflattering and he smells like cigarettes. Her nose scrunches up in an effort to fight back her gag.

"You here all alone?" Even his voice is grating to her ears! Can this get even worse?

"My boyfriend is busy killing the guy that flirted with me earlier."

"Yeah right, anyone with that kind of attitude must be hard to flirt with." He scoffs. How mad would her partners be if she stabbed this man? No - she can't - they are trying to finish a deal. She'd blow the whole thing if she did that.

Actually - this guy looks familiar... She takes another drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

"You alright? you look a little flushed."

"Yeah I'm-" Shit, she knows this feeling. More than that, she knows this man.

He's a hitman for the other gang. The one who has Lando's men. The one he's meeting with right now.

Her heart lurches. The fog in her head and heat are too much. Her body is going to give out on her.

She ends up stabbing him. The knife strapped to her thigh finds a home in Mr. Hitman's chest. He cries out in pain but doesn't pull it out. He smiles at her instead.

She tries to bolt, but three other sets of hands pin her. They drag her outside. The ground scraping against her skin in an uncomfortable way.

She sees the hitman fall to the ground; hears the thud as the pull her out the back where he was trying to follow.

Damn, she kind of liked that knife too. She'll have to go back for it later.

They already have Lando outside. Her blurry vision is enough to see him covered in blood, licking his lips. "You trying to take my girl?"

"Shut it, Norris. This is payback for what you did."

They start attempting to remove her clothes. Like she was going to go down without a fight. Her nails dig into the skin of whoever is close by. She pulls as hard as possible, skin from another getting stuck in her nails as she does.

Her body doesn't have the energy for more than that. She misses her knife. This would be easier if she still had it. The stabbing motion isn't difficult, and gravity would help.

"Get your filthy, fucking hands off of her!"

There is another round of fists clashing. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed four of my guys."

"You killed mine first! They made the deal exactly as intended and you still put a bullet through their skulls!"

This was all a setup then. They were planning on them showing up. Though, there is no way they know about Oscar. If they never intended on sending someone to make the switch, then they wouldn't have anyone on the roof.

Hands are everywhere, wrestling with her clothes. They don't get far, their intentions now clear. The shot echoes off the buildings. To close to be from the roof.

The man directly in front of her crumples to the ground. The spray of the blood from the shot sticks to her skin.

"I believe Lando said not to touch her." Oscar stands there holding the smoking gun.

She watches the fight break out around her. It's messy and loud, but her boys come out on top. As per usual with these things. She would've gladly joined in if these stupid drugs would let up.

The boss had scrambled away with his tail between his legs. Serves him right after this stunt. "Did he really not like you that much?" Oscar throws a raised eyebrow at Lando.

"Jealousy, I think." They work in tandem to heave her body upright and support her back to the car. "What happened on the roof?"

"I was waiting for any kind of signal but got nothing. Nobody showed up. So, I came back down and was greeted by six guns pointed at my head."

"They shot first, I presume?"

"But I shot better."

She doesn't need to see the smirk to know it's there.

~~~~~

The hot water of the bath feels exceptional against her skin. They'd scrubbed at blood for far too long. The raw skin finally being soothed is relaxing.

The drugs still haven't worn off. Her motor function is lacking, and her words are slurring together, but it's better than it was.

Lando and Oscar are keeping her upright. Her body resting against theirs. Fingers caress her skin. This is safety.

"Can't believe we've had to cancel our date." Lando plops three rubber ducks inside the bath. Oscar's ducks, mind you.

"Frankly, I think we could consider that a date. We went out, got covered in blood, now we're having a relaxing bath."

"You just don't like going out."

She's going to fall asleep here. Relaxed and at peace with her boys. The possibility of drowning unlikely. "I love you both."

"You're drugged and still got blood on you."

"Sexy."

"I killed someone for you."

"Romantic."

[afewproblems]

Season Two Halloween AU Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for letting me inundate you with spoilers and general Stranger Things/Steddie screaming!

[CW: Period Typical Homophobia from the antagonist, violence, gore, bodily injury, Billy Hargrove is his own warning.]

***

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. 

Eddie takes a step closer to Steve, but Dustin is faster. 

He pulls on the jacket sleeve, taking Steve to the window and Eddie can't even find the words to say to make him stop.

He wants to tell Dustin to give them a second, he wants to press pause on this whole horrible night and ask Steve to explain.

Because in what world did this make sense? 

There is no possible way Steve is gay, and even if is, the guy is fresh off of being dumped by his girlfriend just days before. 

On top of that, they're all running on fumes from a day searching for Dart, fortifying an old school bus, laying the Demodog trap in the junkyard, and finally coming back to the Byers to make their plan. 

Eddie's stomach growls at the sudden thought and he realizes just how hungry he actually is after all the adrenalin and running around they've done.

If Eddie is this tired and hungry, he can't imagine Steve is faring much better, he's not thinking straight. 

He can't be. 

Because if he was, if he had meant it, and Eddie just--

"Oh shit," Steve says lowly from the edge of the intact window. He presses against the wall, keeping himself out of sight as much as he can, "what the fuck is Hargrove doing here?" 

"That's what I'm saying," Dustin hisses, his eyes wide, he sticks close to Steve's side, away from the window and turns to Max, "what the hell is your brother doing here".

Max shoots Dustin a look and for a second Eddie thinks she's going to tell Dustin off before her face suddenly pales.

"He can't know I'm here, he'll kill me".

Lucas shifts closer to Max, knocking his shoulder into hers before turning his attention back to Steve, "he almost ran us over once, we were on our bikes". 

Their bikes…Jesus.

It hits Eddie suddenly that they're just kids, all of thirteen years old, with an unpredictable asshole standing just outside their door.

Steve sighs suddenly and squares his shoulders, his big hazel eyes move from Max, to Lucas, to Dustin, and Mike, before finally landing on Eddie. His brow pinches in the middle as his expression shifts into the same determined one from the day before.

But this time there is no nail bat in his hands. 

Shit.

"Steve, dont," Eddie says, darting across the room towards him, but Steve is too quick for him.

He reaches for the door and unlatches the bolt, "stay out of sight, all of you, I'll be right back".

It's a promise Eddie isn't sure Steve can make.

The kids immediately move towards the edge of the window before Eddie whispers out a sharp, "Go to the boarded one shitheads, he's going to see you". 

Eddie shakes his head at the four identical eye rolls, but the kids do as he says and make their way to the far window he and Steve just closed up. 

There are enough gaps between the wood slats that they can see Steve make his way to the path as Billy steps around his car. 

"Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?"

The cherry of his cigarette glows in the dark as Billy takes a long drag before flicking it into the street. 

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants," Steve's voice is steady, the smooth lilt of his 'King' voice takes over and it's so different from what Eddie has come to realize is Steve's normal speaking voice that it throws him for a bit of a loop. 

Just how much has Steve been pretending all this time.

Moonlight casts shadows over half of Billy's face but it doesn't hide the way his lip pulls over his teeth or the dark glint in his eye as he pulls off his jacket and tosses it through the open window of his Camaro.

"I'm looking for my step sister, little birdy told me she was here," Billy says, a sneer pulling at his mouth as his eyes scan the house before landing on Steve again, "which would already be weird enough, and now I find you here". 

"I'm doing a favour for Mrs. Wheeler and Byers, babysitting, I don't think I've seen your step sister, what's she look like?"

Eddie can't see Steve's face from this angle but the words come out smoothly, no stumbles with the lie.

But Billy stares just a little too long for it to have properly landed.

"You do favours for people like that huh," Billy laughs, ignoring the question entirely as he takes another step closer. He and Steve are similar heights but Billy has a good twenty to thirty pounds of muscle on Steve and Eddie begins to sweat at the manic look on Billy's face.

"You're something else Harrington, I don't think I'd be able to stick around if my girl fucked someone else--"

"Your sister's Not Here," Steve bites out through gritted teeth. He steps into Billy's space, his shoulders high with tension and anger, "leave". 

Billy laughs, a low dangerous sound, "you know, this whole night's been giving me a weird fucking feeling Harrington".

Billy tips his head back and leaves it there for just a moment and Eddie watches as Steve relaxes for just a second too long, tilting his head in confusion.

"And I think you're lying to me".

Billy punctuates the words by slamming his hands into Steve's shoulders, knocking him clean off his feet.

Steve hits the concrete hard, managing to roll enough for his shoulder to connect with the ground first rather than his head. He manages to sit up slightly, looking at Billy now with a mixture of surprise and fear in his wide eyes as he shifts to look back at the house.

Billy smirks and leans over Steve, "I'm just going to see for myself, told you to plant your feet pretty boy".

He stands up to his full height again and kicks Steve in the ribs. Hard. 

Eddie curses quietly as Steve curls in on himself and makes a horrible retching sound, but there isn't time to worry about Steve as Billy comes lumbering up the front path towards the Byers front door.

Which is unlocked.

Eddie hadn't even thought to latch it.

"Hide. Now!" Eddie hisses at Max, she opens her mouth to argue but Lucas gives her a push to the shoulder and looks at her with pleading eyes.

"Just go okay?" Lucas whispers, pushing her again towards the kitchen.

She shoots Lucas a fierce glare over her shoulder and disappears around the corner. 

Eddie steps back towards the kids, putting himself between them and the door, just in time for it to crash open. 

Billy looks around the room, frowning slightly at the boarded up window and all of the drawings covering nearly every inch of the place like vines, before his gaze lands on Eddie and the kids behind him.

"Well, well, well, this is quite the party here huh boys," Billy sneers, kicking the door closed behind him.

"A private one," Eddie manages to keep his tone even as he takes a step closer, drawing Billy's eye away from the kids, "what do you want Hargrove".

Billy scoffs and tries to step around Eddie, yelling at the top of his voice as he moves, "Maxine! You got three seconds to get you skinny ass out here before I bring you out myself". 

Eddie mirrors his path, blocking his movement.

"Who the fuck are you talking to man, I guess thats what happens when you take too many balls to face huh?" Eddie says with a mocking laugh in his voice, he lets the corner of his lip rise in a cold sneer.

Billy glares, "that's rich coming from a queer like you," he lifts his hand to shove Eddie's shoulder roughly, but Eddie's dealt with assholes like Billy time and time again and he’s expecting the push. 

He stays standing, keeping himself between Billy and the kids.

Billy shakes his head, "I don't know why you're involved in this, are you revenge for Byers or something? I ain't here for you or your little boyfriend out there, freak". 

"Just leave us alone!" Dustin shouts, drawing Billy's eye for the first time. 

"Yeah fuck off!" Mike screams as Lucas stands up, glaring venomously at Billy. He has his wrist rocket raised, armed with a piece of jagged wood from the broken window. 

"Sinclair," Billy's eyes narrow as they land on Lucas, "if I find out Maxine is here because of you--"

"You'll what?" Eddie growls, he hears a door open softly behind them but keeps his eyes on Billy, not taking any chances.

Billy seems to hesitate, his eyes dropping down to Eddie's fisted hands before rising again to meet his gaze, "Max already knows what happens when people don't listen, but I guess I'll have to show you the hard way Munson". 

Billy moves like a viper, his fist rears back and swings forward so quickly that Eddie barely has time to react, catching the punch in the jaw as he tries to move out of the way. 

"Sonovabitch," Eddie hisses, cradling his face. His vision swims as Billy reaches for his shirt collar, but the second blow never comes.

Billy's hand falls as Steve appears, barreling into Billy, shoulder first like a linebacker, sending them both crashing into the floor. Billy's head smacks into the linoleum, forcing a low groan out of him.

Steve recovers quicker, rolling off the other teen before rising to his knees. He’s breathing hard and holding his ribs with one hand while the other braces on the coffee table as he stands up.

"Holy shit," Dustin laughs out breathlessly as Steve limps closer, moving into Eddie's space.

"You guys okay?" Steve asks softly, he lifts his hand up towards Eddie's aching jaw but stops just shy of touching him. He blinks once and moves away again before turning to the kids.

They all freeze at the sound of a wild laugh behind them.

Billy runs a shaking hand through his mullet, slowly sitting up, scoffing when his fingers come away red. 

"Finally!" Billy crows, "the King Steve I've been hearing about shows his face, where was he when I gave you that black eye yesterday huh?" 

Billy wipes the blood from the side of his head on his jeans and laughs again, a horrible cackle that seems to echo around the small space of the living room. He paws at something on the floor as he manages to roll over onto his knees, breathing hard.

"Let me give you some advice Harrington,” Billy says through gritted teeth, bracing one hand on the coffee table while the other remains strangely hidden behind his back.

Steve says nothing, moving himself to stand in front of Eddie and the kids. Billy stumbles slightly and shakes his head as he manages to get his feet back under himself. 

"If you're gonna hit someone, make sure they don't get back up".

By the time Eddie sees what Billy has clenched in his hand it's too late. 

Billy swings his hand out and catches Steve in the temple with an ashtray, the ceramic shatters on impact sending pieces of pottery in all directions and embedding several into Billy’s hand. 

Eddie's heart nearly stops at the wet crunch it makes as Steve's head whips back at the impact. He crumples limply to the floor, his head bouncing once against the linoleum before Steve lays still on the living room floor.

Eddie feels like he's underwater. Like time has slowed down and he's sinking.

He doesn't realize he's moving until he's in front of Billy, until he's gripping the edges of Billy's shirt in his hands, until he's shaking him like a ragdoll.

Eddie's never felt such overwhelming rage and fear, its coursing through him, burning him up from the inside out.

Steve isn't moving.

There's only coherent thought playing on a loop in his head. 

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.

"Billy!" A small voice cuts through Eddie's yelling, when had he started yelling, from the kitchen door.

Billy's face tips towards it, his dazed eyes widen slightly and his lip curls back in a feral smile.

"I fucking knew it," Billy slurs out as Eddie throws him to the floor. 

He laughs again and again, his head bleeding freely now, red lines drip down his face.

Max takes a shaky step into the living room; she ignores Lucas yelling at her to run and continues forward, Will's second dose of sedative clutched in her left hand. 

Max pushes past Eddie, drops to her knees and plunges the needle into Billy's neck with a roar. Eddie watches as Billy flinches at the impact and lifts his hands to frantically rip the needle out.

"What the fuck?!" He whispers, trying to sit up but his shaking arms only drop him back to the floor, "what did you do?"

"Made it so you can't hurt my friends," Max says lowly, she trembles as Eddie helps her stand and directs her towards the boys who immediately fold her into a hug between the three of them. 

Eddie keeps his eyes on Billy until his breathing smooths out and his unfocused eyes finally close before he’s on his feet. He crosses the room in two strides and drops to his knees in front of Steve, letting his uncle's voice run through everything he ever taught him about first aid.

Don't move them, keep them talking, keep them warm.

Eddie's hands shake as he reaches out for Steve's neck and feels for a pulse, trying not to look at the blood coating Steve's face or the shards of ceramic in his hair.

"Is he…" Dustin says beside Eddie, startling him. The whole house has gone eerily silent as the kids finally make their way towards them, they don't crowd him the way Dustin has though.

Eddie swallows and moves his fingers slightly until he finds it, a thin reedy pulse. 

He's alive. 

Eddie feels his eyes sting and a wet hysterical laugh falls from his mouth. Steve is nowhere near okay, but he's alive.

He's alive.

Part Seven!

Tag List:

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @henderdads @stevesbipanic @spooky-brakers

[billsbabydoll]

“𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓈ℴ 𝒸𝓊𝓉ℯ 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁ℯ.”

contains:PURE FLUFF<3

summary:after the comet awards me bill and the rest of his band head to an after-party, feeling overwhelmed needing a bit of privacy me and bill head outside for a cigarette and a couple of kisses.

WARNINGS:none really just smoking, party setting, anxiety, kissing, pet-names, teasing.

notes:OMGG people actually read my story yay tysmmm!!!

finally the award show was over with i could sense how bored the whole band was just waiting for the time to pass so we could just go to the after-party already.security soon ushered us outside directing us towards our limo as quickly as possible, we soon entered the vehicle and made our way to the club.

“you okay baby?” i whisper to bill noticing his anxious demeanor as he was looking down and picking at his nails.

“hm?” he suddenly looked up, looking over to me. “oh yeah yeah im okay j-just ready to party already!” he said with a nervous chuckle and smile i could tell he was just trying to play it cool, so i brushed it off for the time being and ultimately decided to let it go for the time being.

after a couple minutes of chatter and few glasses of champagne we arrived to the club where the after-party was being held, the security staff stepped out of the limo first and then we shortly followed behind making our way inside the club.the sound of loud bass pumping music, bright flashing lights, the smell of alcohol setting in as we sat down at our reserved lounge.

the other boys georg and gustav found their ways to the bars, and tom obviously found a girl to take back to the hotel for the night but who are were we to judge, as he says he just needs “love for one night.”

me and bill stayed behind seated together on the red leather couch his knee touching mine as it bounced up and down anxiously.i look up at him looking at his face, trying to read it carefully and figure out what possibly could be on his mind? bill wasnt the type to be nervous especially at a social event or public appearance, he hid it well when he was.

i reach my hand down softly stopping his leg from shaking to which he turned over to look at me, his glossy eyes and nervous expression just enough to tell me something was definitely wrong.

i leaned in closer my mouth close enough to his ear so he could hear me perfectly-

“are you alright, why are you shaking so much?”

“c-can we go outside please schatz (honey)?” he muttered.

“yeah of course lets go baby.”

i moved my hand away from his knee, placing it now into his hand our fingers quickly intertwining as we stood up and beginning to make our way through the crowd towards the back door of the club.

we opened the door, stepping out before closing it and sitting down on the concrete the warm autumn breeze now blowing in our hair.

he sighed deeply taking a deep breath of the fresh air his worries soon drifting off with the wind as he took in the moment, reaching down to his pocket pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighter, placing a cigarette in his mouth and one in mine.lighting mine first before lighting his, sucking in the smoke before blowing it out.

“i dont know what happened to me back there- i guess i just got overwhelmed, i dont even fucking know..”he mumbled with a low chuckle, taking another drag out of his cigarette.

“baby why didnt you just say something we couldve just ditched the guys and headed to the hotel.this tight dress and heels are killing me by the way.”i joked giggling a bit, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.taking a hit of my cigarette, sucking in the smoke breathing in a bit of it before then exhaling.

“well you know the guys..they wouldve called us lame for ditching and besides, du siehst in diesem klied zu schon aus um es einfach auszuziehen liebe.(you look too beautiful in this dress to just take it off love.)”he giggled back playfully, looking me up and down while flicking the ash off his cigarette, taking in my cheeky smile and the way my dress hugged my curves perfectly.

“ach halt den mund! (oh shut up).” i reply with a nervous laugh as i see the way hes looking at me with such admiration, i take another long drag out of my cigarette before dropping it on the ground, lighting it out with my heel.

i scoot closer my thigh now rubbing against his, my head resting on his shoulder, taking in his scent of cologne, hairspray, and obviously cigarettes.

he grinned brightly at the sight of me resting against his shoulder, he finally took in the last breath of his cigarette before dropping onto ground and lighting it out with his boot.he then looked back down at me, our eyes making contact our lips both turning into a content smile.

“your so cute when you smile baby.” he said just above a whisper as his eyes deeply looked into mine, seeing nothing but pure love and affection.

bill was the kind of guy who preferred theses typical cheesy and sweet moments he would give the world just to have a million moments like theses with me.

he leaned in picking my head up from his shoulder holding the sides of cheeks, before placing a delicate kiss upon my plump lips, i quickly leaned in as well reciprocating the kiss.

he then deepened the kiss gently slipping his tongue into my mouth, our tongues now dancing to a perfect rhythm, the kiss was sweet, slow, gentle, and utterly perfect.

it seemed as if it was an ultimate sign of our true love for one-another.

after a couple kisses we pulled away from each others lips, both looking into eachothers eyes lovingly, this was the most beautiful moment ever.

i rested the side of my cheek on his hand, kissing it before picking my head up from his hand and leaning in placing a gentle kiss upon on his nose, to which he gently chuckled and scrunched his nose.

“lets get outta here liebe (love).”

“yeah cmon.”

he stood up first reaching his hand out, helping me up before making our way back into the club, letting the boys know we were headed back to the hotel then made our way out of the club, getting ushered safely by security staff into our limo.

THE END

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Our Darkest Hour: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary: Rolling blackouts cause a serial killer to rape and murder his victims. He taunts the police and even brings Derek into it. The public has dubbed him the Prince of Darkness. Meanwhile Frank is livid that you didn't stay in jail so if he can't get rid of you that way, the only way to do it is to kill you.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

This is the first lead you can use, but Matt doesn't remember. The only thing that will help him now is a cognitive interview that you'll give him. Whatever he says, it'll help you connect to his energy so you can picture what he is saying. You might see something that he might not remember. Matt needs a few minutes to get himself together before agreeing to do whatever needs to be done. You take him to an empty office so it's just the two of you.

"This is crazy," he scoffs.

"This guy is taunting you. He left a young boy alive and now a baby. He wants you to know it's him."

"How could I not know?"

"You did. Deep down, but you went through a major trauma as a kid. You believed the story because it was easier. I'm the Queen of believing fake stories just to avoid the real ones. Trust me."

"So, what? You want to make me remember what really happened? Come on, it was twenty-six years ago. What good is that gonna do?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but I think it'll help."

Matt sighs and sits down in front of you.

"Is this, you know, like, hypnosis or something?"

"No," you chuckle. "Grab my hand." He does. "I'm what's called a psychic. Believe it or not, but I connect with people's energies. They love to tell stories and I love to listen to them. I'm going to try and trigger some memories by walking you through what happened that night. I'll do the rest."

"Okay. Should I close my eyes?"

"If you want to. I just want you to relax."

"Okay."

Matt takes a deep breath and you close your eyes to concentrate.

"Here we go. It was July so it was hot. Were the windows open?"

"Yeah, and there was a breeze."

"That's good. What do you hear?"

"Nothing. My grandfather woke me up, and he told me about the accident."

"Okay, back up. Slow down. You said there was a breeze. What did you smell?"

"Seriously?" Matt sighs.

You open your eyes. "Matt, I need you to try, okay? Humor me." He nods and you close your eyes. "What did you smell?"

"Uh, I don't know. I smelled the ocean. Hmm. My mother's perfume. Cigarettes?" He's unsure because he's just unlocked a new memory of that night. "This is weird. I smell cigarettes."

"Did your grandfather smoke?"

"Never."

"Come on, think. Who was it?"

Matt's energy finally paints you a picture of that night. He's in his bedroom with the window open. The breeze is softly making the white curtains move. He turns away from the window and when he turns back, the unsub is inside his room. You can't see much because of how dark it is so you can't see any defining features. He leans down toward Matt and mouths something you can't hear.

"He said, 'Hello there.'"

"That was his first message. What is he doing?"

The unsub grabs Matt and begins dragging him through the house. He takes him to his parent's bedroom and shoves him in the closet.

"He's dragging me. I hear my baby sister crying. I hear my Daddy. He's... he's yelling. He killed my dad. I can't see his face."

You see what Matt would have been seeing through the slats of the closet door. His father is lying in a pool of his own blood on the bed and his mother is tied facing the closet door. You can see tears rolling down her cheeks as she pleads for her life. Everything you're seeing, Matt is seeing. He looks down and sees his baby sister lying on the closet floor staring up at him. The unsub rapes and kills his mother but he looks away from it all.

"It's too dark. She's begging him. I can't... I couldn't see. I just... I'm sorry. I couldn't."

You open your eyes and let go of his hand.

"That's enough. You did really well for your first cognitive interview. Come on, let's go back."

You open the door and see your team standing outside looking at you and Matt. He's sad about his parents but that happened a long time ago. All he cares about is now and how he's going to stop it.

"Why is he doing this?" Matt asks with a sigh.

"He keeps a survivor so that they'll never forget him but with you, it goes beyond that, because he believes he turned you into the city's hero. If your parents weren't killed, you might not have become a detective."

"How would he know that? It's not like he stayed in LA He's been all over the country."

"The press has talked about your history. He's not a part of it, and he wants that recognition. He wants everyone to know what he's done to you."

"How's he gonna do that?"

Hotch looks down at Matt's desk and sees a picture of him with a young girl.

"Is that your daughter? Where is she?"

"She's with my sister at my house."

Matt tries his sister but she won't answer. He and Derek immediately head over there by themselves but Ellie and Kristin aren't home. The entire house is dark and eerily quiet. The only thing left behind on Matt's bed is a newspaper with the headline "DETECTIVE MATT SPICER: A View of the Man Behind the Shield". If Matt's sister and daughter aren't at his house, they might be at her house so that's where Matt and Derek head next.

"Ellie is gone. So is his sister," Derek says once he got you on the phone.

"Are they on their way to the station?"

"No. The car's still here and the power's cut. The unsub was definitely here."

"Where are you going?" Hotch asks.

"We're gonna try his sister's place. This guy needs privacy. He didn't leave them here for us to find which means he took them somewhere."

"What's her address?"

"1720 Sheridan Drive."

"We'll meet you there," you say and hang up.

"You know, I don't even know if we're gonna find him there," Matt says as Derek drives.

Something comes over Derek.

"You know what? We won't. This is about you. There's no history at your sister's place. He probably took them to Santa Monica to your old house."

Derek tries to text you but isn't getting service. Every single light in this town and neighboring towns goes out because of the forced blackout. The power grid got overwhelmed and shorted out, making it very difficult for Derek to send a text or call someone. You, Hotch, and Emily are in a car heading for Kristin's house but you can't get very far because you're in traffic. You take out your phone and call Spencer who is back at the station with the rest of the team and Adam.

"Spencer, we're stuck in traffic. All the lights are out."

"Yeah, it's out here, too. We're working off generators. Pretty sure it's citywide."

Your phone beeps signaling you have another call.

"I have Derek on the other line. We're going to meet him at Kristin's house."

"We should get over there," you hear Rossi say.

"With a population of eight million people, it's only a matter of time before the cell phone reception goes--"

The line is immediately cut. It's the damn power grid. No reception is going through right now.

"Shit. Spencer?" You take the phone away from your ear. "Call got cut. We're on our own out here."

Derek and Matt get to his old house in Santa Monica right as the blackout starts happening. Derek parked outside of the dark and quiet house. Matt is eager to get inside but Derek isn't.

"Spicer, we really should be waiting for backup."

"We don't have time. There's a door around the back. I'll check that."

Matt gets out of the car and rushes up the driveway with Derek following behind him. Matt runs around the house while Derek stays in the front. The front door is left open slightly so Derek pushes it open and steps inside. As soon as he walks in, there is a man on the floor with blood on his head. Derek keeps his gun up but kneels down to check if the man is alive. He's not.

Derek steps over him and continues to search the dark house. Room after room. Nothing and no one is in there. He comes to the back bedroom and sees Ellie and Kristin on the bed huddled together in fear. Kristin has her wrist tied to her ankles with duct tape, and blood is coming out of her nose. Ellie isn't tied at all but she won't leave her aunt's side.

"Where is he?" Derek asks.

Just then someone hits him over the head with a gun and he crumbles to the ground. Matt walks into the house through the back and gets all sorts of memories that he didn't know he had. He continues to the back bedroom where he finds Derek on the ground, knocked out. His wrists and ankles are duct taped, performed by Ellie. Kristin is still on the bed in the same position as when Derek saw her. Ellie is in the unsub's arms with his arm wrapped around her throat and a gun is in his other hand pressed into Ellie's side.

"Matt!"

"Daddy! Help!"

Matt raises his gun at the unsub.

"Drop it!"

"You first. Drop the gun!"

"Please, Daddy, listen to him. Don't let him hurt me," Ellie cries.

Derek groans and comes to. He looks at Matt with wide eyes.

"Spicer, don't do it. He doesn't kill children. You know that!"

"Are you sure about that? Just put it down, Matt. Put the gun down or she dies."

"Don't give in to him, man. He's not gonna hurt you unless you surrender. Don't do it!"

"Drop the gun!" the unsub yells.

"Please. Daddy, he's squeezing me." The unsub tightens his grip on her neck. "I can't... I can't breathe."

"Matt, drop the gun!" Kristin pleads.

"If you put that gun down, you lose. He will kill you. Look at him. He's nothing but a coward!" Derek shouts.

The unsub quickly kicks Derek in the face and goes back to hiding behind Ellie.

"Daddy, it hurts!"

"Okay! Okay!"

Matt tosses his gun to the side and Derek all but stays calm.

"No! No! No! Pick it up! Pick the gun up, Spicer!"

Matt raises his hands in surrender to show he's not a threat to the unsub. The unsub sees this opportunity and shoves Ellie away from him. She runs over to Kristin and cowers next to her side.

"On your knees," the unsub glares.

"No! Don't do it!!" Derek yells but Matt looks like he is going to do it.

"That's a good boy," the unsub grins with disgusting yellow teeth.

"Matt!" Kristin pleads.

"Your sister grew up real pretty. The last time I saw her, she was just an itty-bitty thing. Not as good as your mom, though. She squirmed too much," he grins.

"Go to hell," Kristin bites with poison.

Matt yells and charges at the unsub but the unsub overtakes him and shoves him to the ground.

"Get up! Get up!" Matt gets on his knees and looks at the unsub. "Do you think they'll remember me now?"

The unsub points a gun to Matt's chest but he doesn't pull the trigger yet.

"Daddy!"

"You've destroyed me. Is that what you want to hear?" Matt asks.

"Well, it's better."

Matt looks at Derek knowing he isn't going to survive the night.

"Promise me she'll be okay, Morgan."

"Go ahead, promise him," the unsub says when Derek doesn't.

"Do it and promise him!" Kristin yells.

"Promise me, Morgan!"

"Okay! Okay! I promise."

Matt takes a shallow breath and looks at his family.

"I love you, Ellie and Kristin."

The unsub shoots Matt in the chest and he goes down immediately.

"No! Daddy!!"

"No! Spicer!" Derek gasps.

The unsub kicks Derek in the face again, harder this time. Kristin and Ellie cry for the loss of their loved one but the unsub isn't done with them yet.

"What is wrong with you?!" Kristin yells at the unsub.

He grabs Ellie and hauls her to his feet. Kristin tries to fight but she can't do much with her wrists tied to her ankles.

"Oh, God, no! Please! No, no! Take me, please. Please take me instead! Please!" she pleads.

"I don't usually take much to kids. But this one's... just... special," he grins.

"We will find you, you sick son of a bitch," Derek glares angrily from the floor.

"Is that another promise?" he smirks.

He drags Ellie away who is crying and screaming for someone to come save her.

"I will find you!" Derek screams.

You're nervously tapping your hand against your thigh when you suddenly get a splitting headache. It hurts so much that you have to get out of the car to keep yourself moving. The traffic isn't going anywhere so there is no worry that Hotch is going to drive off.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Emily asks through the open window.

You grip the car and cry out in pain. It's like something is hitting you in your face multiple times. An image of Derek flashes through your mind, and you look at Hotch and Emily with tears.

"It's Derek. He's in trouble."

Frank has had it up to here with your antics and your bullshit. Nothing he does is working so there is nothing left to do but one thing. Frank storms into his house and slams the door shut behind him which scares some of his kids into hiding. He doesn't pay them much mind. He never really liked the bastards.

Clarissa comes out of the kitchen to see Frank storming up the stairs to their bedroom. She tosses the rag in her hands onto the counter before following her husband up the stairs.

"Frank? What's wrong?" She walks into the bedroom and sees Frank pulling a duffel bag out from underneath their bed. "Frank?" Frank slams down the bag onto the bed and opens it. He takes out weapon after weapon, checking them and laying them down on the bed as if he's unsure of which one he wants--guns, knives, a saw, and an axe. "Where did you get all of those?" He doesn't answer. "Frank!"

"I won them in a poker game." He looks behind him and sees the bitch face she's giving him. "Fine. Rob owes me."

"What are you going to do with all of them?"

Frank grabs an MK46 and checks to make sure all the bullets are in there, ready to go. He sets that inside the bag and moves on to the next one. An AK-47, a TT-33, a Type 14, two long knives, and an axe go into the duffel bag next. Frank zips it up and slings the bag over his shoulder.

"Put those away."

"Frank, where are you going?"

"The bitch won't stay down," Frank says angrily. "Prison won't work. All that's left there to do is kill her, her boyfriend, and everyone she loves."

"Frank, are you sure about this? What about--"

"I don't care about the past!!" he yells in her face. He sees the scared look on Clarissa's face so he takes two deep breaths to calm himself. "She's overstayed her welcome. I should have killed her when I had the chance."

Frank slams the bedroom door and the front door when he leaves. He should have never relied on anyone to do his damn job. What's the saying? If you want something done right, do it yourself? Well, he's gonna and he's gonna make it hurt.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[turtletaubwrites]

So What?

Thank you so much @shewrites02 for this Zosan request! It cracked me up, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Zoro x Sanji

Word Count: 1096

Ao3 Link

Summary: An enemy catches Zoro eying Sanji in the middle of a fight. Zoro doesn't care, until they make the mistake of threatening the cook.

Rating/Warnings: SFW, Some Passionate Kissing, Fluff, Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence, (hardly any), Humor, They both get teased a bunch for their relationship, Established Relationship, (implied/kind of?), Protective Zoro, Nami and Usopp are little shits 😅

A/N: I giggled so much writing this. I love our lil Straw Hats so much

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“Hey Curly, I’ve got this ugly guy. You go after that one that ran away.”

Zoro kept the enemy pirate in his peripheral vision, his swords ready for any movement. 

Still, he looked toward the blonde cook, whose fiery kick had just taken another opponent down.

“I don’t take orders from you, dumbass marimo,” Sanji spat, anger riding his voice.

But he turned on his heel, walking toward the escaping enemy as he took a long drag off his cigarette. 

Zoro’s lip twitched in a smile as he watched him walk away.

“I’m over here asshole,” his enemy fumed, waving his arms. “I can’t believe the notorious pirate hunter gets distracted by a man’s ass in the middle of a fight. Pathetic.”

Zoro gripped his swords, adjusting his stance as he gave the shitty pirate his full attention. 

The guy didn’t shut up when he should have. 

“Who knew this would be so easy,” the man taunted, holding his sword in position. “I get to kill the infamous Roronoa Zoro because he was too busy daydreaming about a little pretty boy. Ha! This’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, I fuck the cook. So what? I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

A loud cough behind him pricked his ears, but he knew his only threat was in front of him. 

“Fine then,” the pirate sighed before tilting his head with a taunt. “That just means I’ll kill you, then I get to gut your little boy toy.”

“The fuck did you just say,” Zoro growled, low and dangerous.

“I said I’m gonna kill your little blonde twink after I’m done with y–”

The pirate flew through the air, the force of Zoro’s hit knocking him back until he slammed into a tree. He didn’t seem conscious, but Zoro stood above him as he sheathed his swords.

“Nobody touches that perv cook but me.”

~

“So Sanji, I heard you’re Zoro’s little boy toy,” Nami teased, with Usopp nodding along as he egged her on. 

Sanji had a coughing fit, shattering a handful of plates as he carried them to the sink.

Zoro hummed softly, shaking his head as he took a swig of his drink.

When Sanji could breathe again, his red face turned to Nami, trying to ignore the sidelong glances and tiny smirk playing on Zoro’s lips. 

“I’m sorry, Nami, dear. What did you say?”

“Oh, just something we heard during the fight today. What’s a twink?”

Zoro coughed this time, sputtering as sake went down the wrong way.

“Isn’t that a type of food,” Luffy piped up, looking at the cook’s quivering form. “Sanji, do we have any twinks? I wanna try one.”

Usopp couldn’t hold it in anymore, snorting with laughter until he and Nami were practically rolling in their seats. 

“What's happening,” Sanji managed to choke out, having to lean against the counter as he swayed.

“We just heard— We heard Zoro talking,” Nami’s voice came out high, struggling for air. “You do it, Usopp. Say it.”

She slapped against his chest lightly, and Usopp puffed himself up, taking a minute to calm his laughter, chuckles bubbling up until he bellowed out, imitating Zoro’s voice.

“Nobody touches that perv cook but me.”

Even Luffy chuckled now, although his brows were furrowed, not quite following. 

Until Sanji’s red face grew mottled, and he found his footing again.

“What the fuck kind of shit are you saying about me, you idiot moss head? Keep my name out of your ugly ass mouth!”

“I didn’t say your name, dumbass,” Zoro yelled back, standing up to growl at him while they pressed their foreheads together. 

“I called you a fucking perv cook.”

“Idiot swordsman, you don’t even…”

As their feud barreled on, the galley slowly emptied, Luffy snagging snacks as Usopp dragged him away. 

At this point, the cook and the first mate were just growling, eyes burning into each other. 

There was no way to tell who reached out first, their bodies tangling in a blur. 

Zoro’s strong hands gripped Sanji’s waist, the cook’s hands pulled around Zoro’s shoulders and neck. Their mouths ate at each other with all that heat that had boiled over between them. 

Until Sanji pulled away, eyes still sharp with anger.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Zoro groaned, moving to lean against the table as he found his sake again. He sighed as he met Sanji’s eyes, heavy with annoyance.

“The ugly guy from earlier,” he started, Sanji crossing his arms as he waited. “He made fun of me for looking at you.”

Sanji’s eyes squinted, his chin bobbing forward, but Zoro didn’t elaborate.

“So what? Someone hurt your feelings, so you went and told the whole crew that I’m your fucking twink?”

Zoro sputtered again, wiping the sake from his chin. His laughs fizzled under Sanji’s stare. 

The cook’s skin was still flushed, and Zoro wanted to press his lips against those burning cheeks. 

“I didn’t say that shit, curly, okay? He did.”

Sanji let out a heavy breath, looking at the ceiling before frowning back down at the swordsman. 

Why does he always have to look like that when I’m mad at him, Sanji thought, fighting to keeps his eyes on Zoro’s face instead of his exposed chest.

“So why didn’t you disagree? I thought we weren’t telling the rest of the crew.”

Sanji’s voice had raised again, just a bit, as he gestured toward the door. 

“He threatened you, okay?”

The anger in Zoro’s voice now was different from the kind he shared with the cook. His jaw clenched, and Sanji saw the veins in his forearms pulsing as he dug fingers into his knees.

Sanji’s frown dropped, leaving him with his mouth hanging open. 

With another swig of his drink, Zoro stood in front of the silent cook, poking him gently on the chest.

“Plus, I don’t think I give a shit. So what if they know? It’s too late now, anyway.”

After a moment more of staring, Sanji sighed, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. 

“You stupid moss head. Can’t be left alone for ten minutes without fucking something up, can you?”

“Shut up,” Zoro growled, reaching for Sanji’s hips again. “Don’t leave me alone then, you shitty cook.”

Sanji groaned at the insult, wanting to keep the argument going. 

But they melted into each other, breaths calmer now as they kissed away all their words. 

Almost all their words. 

“I’m not a twink,” Sanji grumbled while Zoro kissed along his neck. 

Zoro’s snort was all it took for their battle to begin again. 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: They are so silly 😅

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[ichijager13]

Never again

Relationship: Eren x reader

Rating : general audiences.

Summary :  One night, Armin brings home a half conscience covered in blood Eren. Having enough you decided to sleep on the couch after picking a fight with him.

Tags: Modern AU, aged-up characters, fighting and sleeping on the couch, some angst if you squint and fluuuuff, Eren is so reckless and he gets in fights often.

1,2 k words

A/N: Hello there, darlings !! First of all, let me thank you for reading and supporting my work. I hope you will enjoy this work.

thank you for your reactions.

PS: I wrote this instead of sleeping.

“Wow, wow, wow what on earth are you doing?” Your dark-haired boyfriend asked confused. Receiving no answer he followed you to the living room where you have already prepared the couch to spend the night on. “You can’t be serious?” He snatched your pillow from your hand trying to get a reaction. Instead, you contoured him and went to the bathroom, and locked the door behind you.

Thirty minutes earlier, you had an argument that ended with you shouting and him rumbling out of the kitchen.

Back to the living room, you found him on the balcony smoking. Noticing you were back he took a long drag before tossing his cigarette. “Feeling better?” He inquired. But you decided you are giving him the silent treatment. You picked up your book after settling under the bedsheets. “Fine, do whatever you want”. He gritted slamming the bedroom door.

You sighed remembering how swollen his face is. Eren has a short temper and never managed to end the week without getting in at least one fight. Last night, he came back with a swollen face and bruised knuckles. What was meant to be a night out with the guys at a pub near your house ended with a barfight. Opening the door, you were met with a drunk and covered in blood Eren.

“We tried to stop him”. Armin sighed. You shook your head before helping Armin get him inside.

You jolt in your place when you hear the door open before he comes your way. You glance at him before you bring back your attention to your book.

“Do you have to do this?” He asked desperately. “I wasn’t drunk”.

You let out an exasperated breath before you put down your book. “Oh, I know you weren’t”. you hissed. “Look, I’m tired of repeating the same speech each time you come back home covered with bruises and half conscience”.

You managed to make him sit on the edge of your bed before starting to clean his cuts and patch him up. you gasped when you notice the wound on his torso but you didn’t say anything. Once you finished, you gave him some pain killer before helping him get to bed.

“Would you please let me sleep?” You added in a cold tone.

“I will, once you get to bed.  Our  bed”. he emphasized.

“Good night, Eren”. You turned your back to him. minutes later you heard him going back to your room.

It was 2 AM, and unable to sleep, he left the bed. noticing you slept with your book over your chest he smiled softly. He picked it up and place it on the table after marking where you stopped. He sat on the floor watching you sleep. You look so sweet and pure. He always finds himself questioning whether a hotheaded man like him deserves someone as sweet and gentle as you. knowing how heavy your sleep is, he pushed back the strands that fell on your face.

He shut his eyes remembering your decomposed figure hours prior.

“Because you will end up being severely injured or even worst, killed”. You screamed. Your eyes swam with tears. “You need to learn to control your anger Eren. I’m tired of always expecting the worst whenever you leave the house”. You slammed your hands to the table. “My nerves cannot take this anymore. Running around looking for painkillers, fearing one of your injuries might get infected or one day you’d end up getting in trouble with the authorities”. A single tear run down your cheek.

“Well, I can’t let the dude insult me and get away with it”. he raised his tone.

“And you can’t beat people up until they lose conscience”.

“So, you want me to be a pussy”. He crossed his arms.

“I want you to be responsible. For god’s sake Eren we’re no longer in college”. You started putting dishes in the sink. “You can’t expect people to trust you with their close ones when you look like this”. You rinse and load the dishwasher. “You’re the only doctor I know whose face is covered with bruises all the time”. You hissed.

Feeling the need to smock, he left the kitchen in fury.

“I’m sorry, love”. he whispered; lips pressed on yours.

You woke up to the feeling of the welcoming warmth of your lover’s body and his particular scent. A mix of cold tobacco, his citrus cologne, and a subtle scent of formol that you grew familiar with. You pressed your body against him, nuzzling his chest. You loved this man with every bit of your soul. he is a great lover and a highly talented doctor. His only flaws are his belligerent nature and short temper.

You were about to doze off when you remembered you slept on the couch last night. You try to break away from his embrace. “Stop moving, love”. he groaned. Feeling you squirming he lifted his head from your pillow. “Be still, haven’t got enough sleep”. He whined still groggy.

“What are you doing?” You asked irritated.

“Sleeping”. He simply replied before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Eren”. He only hummed. “Why aren’t you sleeping in bed”.

“Because you’re not”. He finally opened his eyes. “And you know I can’t sleep without you in my arms”. He added before he hides his face back in your neck. “Unlike you”.

“But I’m angry at you”.

“No, you’re not”. His warm breath made you shiver. “That was yesterday”. His lips ghosted your soft skin. “I’ll prove it to you”. A shaky breath left your chest when he nibbled your nape. “I hate it when you go to sleep upset”. He closed his mouth around the thin skin of your shoulder.

“And I hate when you get into fights and come… Ah”. You can feel him smirking against your skin when a low moan left your parted lips.

“I won’t do that again, I’m sorry, love”. his voice was still husky. “I’ll never get in fights again. I’ll do whatever you want”. He sucked on your skin again. This time was harder and you know you’ll end up with a hickey. “Just don’t sleep on the couch again”. His eyes were boring at your soul. “Please”.

You can’t help the tears traveling down your cheek when you notice his face is still swollen. Your hand got tangled in his soft locks and your face nestled in his neck. “Be more careful, please dear”. you hiked up unable to stop your sobs. “This time it was a wound in the chest, thank god it was superficial but who knows if next time it will”. Your other hand’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “I can’t afford to lose you, Eren. When will you understand this”.

“Nothing bad will happen to me, my love. I’m sorry for making you worry this much”. He patted your hair while peppering your body with soft kisses. “I promise I won’t get in fights again, just please stop crying”. He held your face in his hands. “I hate to see you cry”. He breathed brushing away your tears.

You leaned into his touch smiling. “I love you”. you whispered closing the gap between your lips.

“I love you more, love”. he cooed. “How about we go back to sleep? I haven’t got much sleep last night”. You nodded looping your arms around him.

[cal-writes]

some more immortal/reincarnation au. ive had some brainworms the last few days

“You look like you could use a good meal.” Law looks up from the cradle of his hands. A man in a chef's uniform looks down at him, holding a deep plate of some kind of rice dish. His chef’s coat is unbuttoned at the top, hanging open to reveal a stained white shirt. Bright blonde hair covers one eye.

Law reaches out to grab the plate. “Thanks, what do I owe you?” He asks as he puts the plate down, patting himself down for the wad of cash Zoro threw at him. The cook waves him off.

“As long as you don’t mind that I smoke.” He says and sits down, taking a cigarette out from behind his ear. 

Law actually hates the smell of cigarettes but it would be rude to refuse at this point so he just digs in.  The moment the first spoonful hits his tongue he realizes how ravenous he feels.

The cook stretches out his legs, crossing them at the ankles and lights his cigarette with a cheap looking plastic lighter that has a company logo printed on the side. He takes the first slow drag, savoring the taste of it and letting the smoke drift into the air slowly.

“So, what’s got you so worried?” The cook asks nonchalant, looking out into the pier.

Law chews slowly, sighing after he swallows. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.” The cook says, winking at him when Law gives him a raised brow. “I’m a cook in the middle of the ocean. I’ve heard all kinds of things before.”

Law looks down at his plate. He’s dug through to the other side, the white porcelain of the place peeking out through the grains.

“Okay.” He inhales deeply. “I met a guy at the museum a week ago, he broke into my apartment a few days later armed with three swords and said he was immortal and wanted me to fix that because apparently I did that to him. I sure did not do that but I felt bad so I looked for more information about how to help him, found a lead and told him about it but then the cops showed up and shot at his boat and we had to take off and now I’m in the middle of nowhere and he told me to go back home.” Law finishes his tirade by stuffing a spoonful of food in his mouth.

The cook’s cigarette has half its size in ash hanging from the tip as the man blinks. “Huh.” He says before taking the cigarette out from between his lips and flicking the ash into a tray on the table. “You got me.” He snorts. “That’s a new one. Usually I’m just talking people out of cheating on their wives.”

Law ducks his head, stabbing his spoon into the rice. “You asked.” He says, pulling his shoulders up.

“And you believe that he’s immortal?” The cook asks.

Law glances up with a sigh, eyes losing focus. “He made me stab him and it healed immediately. So, yeah.”

“He made you stab him?” The cook must have a remarkable threshold for bullshit because he sounds entirely sincere as he asks.

“Yep.” Law replies, lifting his hands to gesture and abandoning it halfway through. “He thought me doing it would- kill him. I guess.”

“Because you cursed him. Or your ancestor or whatever.” The cook asks, pointing at him with the cigarette between his fingers. Law nods and makes a vague affirmative noise causing the cook to snort again. “Pretty stupid idea.”

“He’s-“ Law shrugs and looks down at the table, the wood grain is puffy from moisture, former straight planks warped until they leave large gaps between each other. “He seemed pretty desperate.”

The cook hums and looks out ahead. “Must be lonely. Being immortal and all that.” He ponders.

Law hums and drags a hand over his face. 

“And now you’re headed home?” He asks.

“I should.” Law says. “I barely know this guy and who knows what else I run into if I follow him.”

The cook blows out smoke.  “True, what else is real now?” He glances at Law from the corner of his eye. “You don’t want to go home?”

“I do.” Law groans and rakes a hand through his hair.

“You’re not responsible for the guy, you know. He’s immortal, he’s going to be fine.”

“Well yes but-“ Law digs his nails into the wood. “Here’s the thing.” He says and turns to the cook. “I’ve had this dream. Even before I met this guy. And it was about something he told me about from his past. And maybe it’s just my brain playing tricks on me but what if I’m really that guy that did this to him? And then I go home and start remembering something that could help him and he’s fuck knows where?”

The cook nods thoughtfully, his eyebrows creased with sympathy. “I see.” He says, scratching his chin. He takes a long drag of his cigarette. “Well, do you have anything at home that won’t wait for you?”

Law frowns. “What do you mean?”

“A partner, a parent that’s about to die, dream job?” The cook asks. “Because you can always go home.”

“You think I should go with him?”

“I think you should finish your meal.” The cook says, finishing his cigarette. He extinguishes the last glimmering stump in the ashtray. “But if you want to get home, fastest way is taking a ferry to Stopover, sea train will take you anywhere.” He stands, stretching his hands over his head. Law inhales deeply. Closes his eyes. Lets the breeze and the noise of the Baratie market wash over him. “Next time you come back here you should tell me how that whole immortality thing turned out.” The cook adds with a smirk and Law sighs in defeat.

He’s already made his decision.

[half-oz-eddie]

tw for suicidal thoughts/planning

“Hey.” A voice droned on the other end of the phone. “Harrington?”

Steve recognized that voice. “Hargrove?”

“Yeah.”

Steve groaned in annoyance. “What do you want?”

“I’m gonna kill myself tonight.”

“Y—wait, what? Why the fuck are you gonna do that?!”

“...It’s enough.”

“What’s enough? Billy there’s nothing worth killing yourself over. Nothing!” Steve replied frantically, ready to jump in his car and drive to wherever Billy was. 

Billy darkly chuckled. “You’re not me. That’s why I called you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t beat you, Steve. Maybe in a fight, maybe in a beer competition, but that’s it. And none of that matters. I wanted everything you had, but I just can’t have that. Nobody wants me around. But people love you. I can’t compete with that.”

“C’mon, Hargrove. You gotta give people a chance. Open up a little. It’s the only way you’ll—“

“No. I can’t. Even when I do nothing wrong, I’m still unwanted. By my mom, my dad, even Max. I haven’t said a word to her in weeks and she looks at me with disgust everyday.”

“Well you did piss her off at the Byers. And you tried to kill me!"

“I was trying to protect her.”

“I know that now. Maybe she does too. You want me to talk to her for you?”

“I just told you—I’m gonna kill myself. You can say whatever you want when I’m gone. You don’t have to pretend you care.”

“What’s the real reason you called me?“

“Just to let you know. I thought maybe you’d even egg me on a little.”

“I’m not like that, Billy. You called the wrong person.”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “I can see that now.”

Steve could hear the soft crackle of Billy taking a drag from his cigarette, followed by a heavy exhale. “Anything else you wanna say before I go? I’m not puttin’ another coin in, so…make it quick.”

“Where are you?”

“Why?”

“Let’s have one last drink before you do it.”

“I’m…heading to the Quarry.”

“I’ll be there in 10 with some beers. Don’t do anything until I get there.”

“Harrington—“

“Promise me!”

“Why do I owe you any fucking promises?” Billy shouted into the payphone.

“Because you know I’m coming there, and you’re not the type of guy that would leave your body for me to find.”

“What if I’m exactly that guy?”

“Please? Just promise me.”

Billy was a bit perturbed by the worry in Steve’s voice. “Whatever, yeah. I’ll be there.”

Steve grabbed some beer from his fridge and raced to the Quarry, hoping Billy would be there. 

He sighed a loud sigh of relief, nearly followed by tears when he spotted Billy’s Camaro. He slowly approached, unsure of what he would even say the moment they were in front of each other.

It was unsettling how Billy didn’t look distressed at all. He was unusually calm. That scared Steve more than anything. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Steve tossed Billy a beer. They drank the entire case in complete silence, both going for the last can of beer. 

Steve chuckled, withdrawing his hand. “You take it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, I brought them for you so—yeah. Enjoy.”

Billy wordlessly nodded as he cracked open the can and chugged it. 

Steve felt his stomach knot up. He didn’t know what to do to stop Billy. 

“So, uh…there’s like this…concert thing tomorrow that Robin invited me to. You should come.”

“Are you deaf or stupid, Harrington? I said I’m killing myself tonight.”

“Yeah but like—can’t it wait til tomorrow? I’ve never gotten to hang out with you before and this was…I dunno, not horrible?”

Billy laughed. “So y’want me to postpone my fucking suicide so I can go on a date with you?”

“I didn’t say it was a date!” Billy laughed harder when he spotted Steve’s blush in the dim light of his headlights. 

“I don’t want you to kill yourself.” Steve admitted. “I want a chance to beat you in another fight. To beat you in basketball. To take back the keg king title. If you die, I’ll reclaim the title by default. No one else in this shit town could ever beat me except you.”

“Cause this town's full of pussies.” Billy gritted his teeth. 

“Maybe.“ Steve shrugged. “So…will you stick around tomorrow, at least?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon. Let’s go have some fun.”

“Why do you even wanna be around me?” Billy questioned.

“I don’t know you, Billy! I’ve never known you. I’ve only known that you’re an angry, annoying asshole. But then you call me, saying you wanna kill yourself, and I wonder if you’re even an angry annoying asshole, or if it’s been bullshit all this time.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes! Please do!”

“I really, genuinely want to die, Steve. And yet, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“So live! Live for me! Because I want you to live.”

“That sounds romantic.” Billy teased. 

“I don’t care what it is. If I’m a reason for you to keep living, I’ll make it worth it.”

“What for?”

“…I get really lonely. It’s just in my nature to take care of everyone because no one’s here with me. I’m alone all the damn time.”

Billy sighed. “God, you’re so pathetic. You want me to live so I can keep you company?”

“Yeah. Whenever you feel like killing yourself, you can drink with me. Or we can talk. Or go for a drive.”

“Still feels romantic.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No.”

“Good. So. Tomorrow. It’s a date?”

“I thought you said it wasn’t.”

“It is now. So yes or no?”

Billy smiled. “Sure, pretty boy. I’ll be your date tomorrow.”

And he was Steve’s date. Then he was Steve’s boyfriend. And things got easier. He gained the love and loved the way he craved for so many years. 

The next time he was at the quarry with Steve, he wasn’t thinking about falling over the edge, he was thinking about falling in love with Steve. 

Life had never been so beautiful. 

[sonderessence]

stunna ... hobie x black reader

warnings / contains: language, blood, drinking, smoking.

synopsis: hobie would kill anyone in the world for you.

✞ NOW PLAYING: if looks could kill, destroy lonely

eight fourty-seven, the party

chapter 1, ghostface

... you were finally eighteen, & your best friend brianna had pulled you to a party that was being hosted by one of the guys at the college you went to.

college was stressful, life felt like shit, and nothing felt right. so, what a better way to live than go to your first party?

when your brianna brought up the idea, you were a bit skeptical at first because of the murders and kidnappings that were going on in your town, but she was somehow able to convince you to go.

you had worn a pretty short black dress that showed off your back and arms.

the loud music that blasted in the large home, followed by yelling and laughs filled your ears as you were being pulled by your best friend.

the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol filled your nose, looking around to see people making out and fighting, or just dancing like there was no tomorrow.

your friend pulled you to a guy who she apparently knew.

" heyyy! " she giggled, walking up to the guy. " hey bri, " a guy smiled, he looked like he was already piss drunk. " who's this fine woman? " he turned to you with a smirk, looking you up and down.

" y/n, jason, jason, y/n " brianna smiled.

" hey " you smiled softly. you were nervous about meeting people you didn't know, and adding the crowded space it made it even worse.

" y/n? " he raised an eyebrow " pretty name, you think you could make me scream it? " he joked, a joke you didn't find funny.

" haha... " you laughed awkwardly, looking down at the ground.

" jason! " brianna exclaimed, laughing as she playfully punched his arm.

" hey, " you tapped bri's arm " i'm gonna get us drinks, i'll- " " i'll come with you! " jason interrupted, smiling drunkly.

your eyes widened as you smiled awkwardly at him. " o-oh, it's fine. i- " " yeah! " bri exclaimed " you two can get to know each other more! "

" haha...yay... " you dragged out the word.

jason stood closely beside you as you two walked to the kitchen, two close for comfort, to close for your comfort.

he didn't notice how uncomfortable you were, but you could tell he took a liking to you. he flirted with you the whole night, touching you and trying to get close to you.

while he was drunk, he even tried kissing you, which in response you awkwardly pushed him away.

" why are you trying to get away from me? " jason smirked wickedly, walking up from behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

" jason, " you said sternly " stop. "

" why mama? " he chuckled " you don't wanna have a good time? bri's budrunk lying. looked at bri who was two busy grinding on some random guy.

jason leaned in closer to you to whispered in your ear seductively. " why don't we go upstairs? "

" i...i'm gonna go to the bathroom. " you choked out, pushing drunk jason away from you.

you ran out the front door, inhaling the cool air as you sighed. you pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a puff. you sat on the edge of the railing when you heard the door open.

you turned around to see a unknown person in a ghost face mask. looking at the person in confusion, you called out a nervous " hello? " the person walked up to you and you could see how detailed their costume was.

" sorry if i scared ya, " the person said, they actually sounded like ghost face, which made even more creepier.

" just a bit " you smiled nervously " i like the cosplay "

" thanks " the person said, you could hear the happiness in their voice. " wha' 's your name, luv? " they asked.

" y/n " you smiled, your heart fluttering at the nickname you were given. " you? "

the person under the mask chuckled. " if i told you tha', you would know my iden'ity "

you nodded your head and laughed " your right, that's smart "

the person stood next to you, looking at you up and down. " wha' 'r you doin' out here?" they asked.

" just taking a breather " you sighed " it's hella crowded out there "

" tell me abou' it, " they chuckled softly, taking off their mask.

you looked up at them and noticed the smile they wore. " you have a nice smile " you smiled back back at them.

" thanks " they chuckled, you could hear their real voice when the mask was off.

" so, " you said " you gonna tell me your name now that i've seen your face? " you teased, raising an eyebrow. " hm...fine." they answered with a teasing smirk. " hobie "

" hobie, " you repeated " nice. "

... after some time of talking to hobie, you managed to warm up to him. " hey, " you looked up at him, noticing splatters of read on his costume. " what is that red stuff on your costume? you killed someone? " you joked with a smile.

his tone turned serious as he glared at you. " 'n if i di'? "

your heart dropped, staring wide-eyed at him. " w-what? "

" 'm jus' messin' wit' ya " he answered in a joking tone, chuckling at you.

you smiled back at him, rolling your eyes playfully. " i should get back to my group "

he nodded " same here, " he smiled. " it was nice talkin' to ya "

a/n: dont know if ima finish this 💀

©bachirasegoist, 2023 — do not steal or copy works

[slaymitchabernathy]

Escapism.

| this story is inspired by the song 'Escapism.' by RAYE |

“Thanks.”

That’s what she says to him when he offers her his cigarette without saying a word. She likes guys like him, quiet. There’s nothing quite worse than a man who can’t shut the fuck up.

Soarynn would know.

That’s why she’s standing outside of a bar on a rainy Saturday night with a complete stranger by her side. It could be worse. He could be ugly.

She met the man less than an hour ago but she’s gathered enough to know the type of man he is. And to her, that’s more important than the man he wants to be.

He’s tall. Tall and brooding, an excellent combination in her humble opinion. He’s well-kept and mannered which means he comes from money. That’s okay. She does too.

His fine-looking watch lets her know that he knows how to use that money. A stark comparison to the man who broke her heart last night. He’s got blonde hair. It’s more golden if anything. It suits him though, goes well with those pretty blue eyes he’s got. He’s handsome too. He knows it.

“No problem. Didn’t take you for a girl who smokes though,” he muses, watching her take a long drag of the cigarette. It’s one of the nicest ones she’s had, although Soarynn does her best to refrain from smoking, it makes your breath smell bad and she can’t have that. Soarynn lets out a breathy laugh and hands it back to him, “Don’t want you to take me for anything tonight if I’m being honest.”

He studies her. It scares her. Not in a bad way. Not in the “he might kill me in this back alley” way. But because heaven knows how long it’s been since someone has shown this type of interest in her. He hums, looking her up and down. She's glad she put some effort into her appearance tonight, in her little black dress and her high heels. Even in heels, this handsome stranger is still significantly taller than her.

"Well, is there a reason you're out on the town then?" He asks, giving her a curious look. Soarynn smiles up at him because it's cute. Cute how interested he is in her and she can't blame him, not when less than an hour ago she was teasing him on the dancefloor, her diamond bracelets practically dripping on him when she wrapped her arms around his neck. It's fun, she's having fun.

Soarynn sighs, carding her fingers through her soft blonde hair, remembering why she came out in the first place. "Let's get a drink first," she suggests and he nods, even holds the door open for her like a proper gentleman. They settle down at the bar and she orders two wines because she ought to get something out of this interaction tonight. And tonight she wants him. Wants to feel another human body on top of hers.

"So tell me why you're out here all by yourself," he presses, thanking the bartender who brings their drinks. Her wine and his bourbon. Soarynn bites her lip, isn't it bad manners to talk about your past relationship with a man you're trying to sleep with? But then again, she has nothing to lose. Not anymore. She takes a sip of her wine, savoring the taste before nodding.

"A little context if you care to listen," she starts and he leans forward until there's a good six inches between them. It's not flirty, and she definitely can't smell him right now, how he smells like roses. It's loud in this bar, that's why he's so close. At least that's what she tells herself.

"I found myself in a shit position, the man that I love sat me down last night and he told me that it's over."

The handsome stranger furrows his brows when hearing that and doesn't hesitate with the words that effortlessly leave his lips.

"Dumb decision."

Soarynn nods, glad someone else sees it that way. "Figured I could drown my sorrows in wine and champagne tonight, maybe even dance with someone," she says, sitting back in her chair and taking another sip of wine. His eyes travel up and down her long legs and she doesn't mind, he looks like the the type of man to appreciate the effort women put into their appearance.

"Well you danced with me," he points out. He's right. Soarynn remembers how his hands felt on her hips, how well they went together. Soarynn licks her lips, "I suppose I did." There's a moment of silence between the two of them, just drinking each other in. He leans forward again and opens his mouth but hesitates for a moment, "Go on," she encourages, her tongue becoming loose from the alcohol. He swallows, "Are you looking for someone to take you home tonight?"

Soarynn smirks. Men are so easy. But she wants easy. If she wanted difficult she'd go back to the man who broke her heart. "I'd be open to the idea," she purrs, watching him glance at the door before looking back at her, "I...I don't quite know what you're looking for in a man though," he admits, scratching the back of his neck. Soarynn tilts her head and considers what he just said. What does she want?

"I'm looking for a man who's on the same page."

That seems to hit home with him and he chuckles, "Then I can be your man for the night." That's all she needs, all she wants, one night. "Well then I think it's only fair that I know the name of the man whose company I'll be in for the rest of the night," she states matter-of-factly. The handsome stranger grins and takes a sip of his drink before replying, "Coriolanus Snow."

She raises her eyebrows, she's never heard of him before but he carries himself as if he's very important. "What do you do for work, Coriolanus Snow?" She asks, testing out his name on her tongue. He runs his fingers through his golden curls, "I'm interning as a Game Maker." Soarynn nods, seemingly impressed. She could never take part in that line of work, too brutal.

"And your name?" He asks, his bright blue eyes staring directly into her blue-gray ones. Soarynn feels a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth, "Soarynn Nightingale."

Coriolanus smiles too, "Well Soarynn Nightingale I hope you know what a stunning creature you are."

Soarynn can't stop herself from blushing. How long has it been since she's gotten a compliment like that? She finishes her glass of wine and looks at the next one before looking at the door. She knows she should finish it but she also desperately wants to get out of here and find out if Coriolanus is as good in bed as he is on the dancefloor.

He seems to notice her internal dilemma and places a hand on her knee, "Take your time darling, I'm not going anywhere." Oh, he's going to be fun. Soarynn giggles, the wine causing her to let down the elusive walls that she normally keeps up, "Okay Coriolanus Snow," she says, taking the full glass.

They talk for a while longer while she finishes her glass and finds out they both attended the Academy and both live on the Corso. She also finds out that Coriolanus is three years older than her. Good, she likes older men. When she finally finishes her glass Coriolanus pulls out his wallet and settles both their tabs, because he's such a gentleman. Soarynn allows him to lead her out of the bar, his hand on her lower back. It's not controlling or dominating, it's comforting. Comforting to know that he's right behind her and isn't going to leave her like she's been left before.

Soarynn can't even hide her surprise when a car pulls up to the curb and Coriolanus opens the back door for her, "You have a driver?" She asks while slipping into the leather-wrapped backseat. Coriolanus chuckles and slides in next to her, his hand instantly finding her bare thigh, "I do." She's properly intoxicated at this point and has no problem speaking her mind and it seems to amuse Coriolanus so she doesn't hold back with her teasing, "So you're really rich then huh? So rich that you don't even drive your own car." Coriolanus raises his eyebrows and gives her a smile, "Yes, so rich I don't drive my own car."

Soarynn rests her head on his shoulder and takes notice of how strong he is, "Are we going to yours or mine?" She doesn't really care but men tend to like making all the decisions and since he paid, she'll let him choose.

"My place," he says, and the car begins to pull away from the curb. Soarynn lets out a yawn, "Your place," she agrees before closing her eyes. A little cat nap never hurt anyone.

꧁ ꧂

"You like living in the penthouse?" She asks in between kisses, pinned up against the wall of Coriolanus Snow's impressive penthouse. She can't see much of it since it's dark but she's seen enough to know that he's too rich for his own good. She is too, but that's beside the point. Coriolanus squeezes her waist as he continues kissing her, "It has its perks." Soarynn smirks and runs her fingers through his soft curls, inhaling the sweet scent of roses. His whole penthouse smells like roses. She'll have to ask him why later. After he's fucked her.

Soarynn groans when he pulls away and lets him pull her through the grand hallways until they're bursting into his bedroom. It's dark and brooding just like him. Soarynn kicks off her heels and sits on the edge of the bed, tilting her head up as he leans down to kiss her again. His lips are so soft and he's quite the kisser. His hands fly to the back of her dress, a corset that proves to be a most daunting sight where men are concerned. But Coriolanus loosens it with practiced ease. Soarynn goes for his belt when she feels him tense and then she feels it.

The cold metal of his gun.

She didn't take him for a man who carries a gun on him, not when this is where he lives and when his job is relatively safe. But she doesn't linger on it and simply unbuckles his belt, deepening the kiss. Coriolanus pulls away and his hand goes to the weapon he's been concealing and he looks somewhat unsure of what to say, "I didn't mean to scare you," he starts but Soarynn shakes her head, "It's okay. We all have to protect ourselves," she tells him softly.

Just because he has a gun doesn't mean he's unsafe. But it leads her to wonder if the people he surrounds himself with are unsafe. Still, she doesn't let it linger and watches him place the gun on the bed before he goes to unbutton his shirt. "Are you part of some gang?" She asks, her curiosity getting the best of her. Coriolanus shakes his head with a small smile on his lips as he discards his shirt, revealing his sculpted abdomen, "No darling, I'm not part of a gang."

Well, that's a relief. It only leaves about five hundred possibilities as to why he has a gun but Soarynn doesn't press the subject and simply helps him when he goes to pull her dress off revealing a matching set of black lingerie. His eyes rove over her body and she can see his growing problem in his pants. "Why don't we take these off?" She asks sweetly, batting her eyes up at him.

Coriolanus swallows and nods, "Excellent idea."

Soarynn didn't doubt that he'd be carrying something to brag about with him down there but she was downright speechless when she got a good look at his cock straining in his boxers.

Coriolanus slips a finger under her chin, getting her to look up, "This old lover of yours, did he ever fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked?" Soarynn squeezes her thighs together and slowly shakes her head, "No," she whispers. But do men ever care about pleasing their partners?

Coriolanus seems to care a lot as he picks her up and slings her over his shoulder, getting Soarynn to let out a squeal as she kicks her feet, "He also never carried me around like a rag doll," she adds, giggling when he tosses her back onto the bed, this time near the headboard. Coriolanus smirks, "Well it's high time you find out what you've been missing." Soarynn's glad he's on the same page and allows herself to admire him while he crawls on top of her, his breath hot on her neck while he gives the skin soft kisses.

She threads her fingers through his curls, letting out a soft moan when he sucks a little harder. His hands grab her waist and goodness he's got big hands. All of him is big. His height, his frame, his cock.

She can't wait to feel his cock inside of her.

His hands travel down to her black lace panties and he's quick to tug them off of her and throw them to the floor. Coriolanus kisses his way down her body, taking his time to admire her. When he finally gets to her cunt he lets out a groan at the sight, "It seems you're gorgeous everywhere," he tells her. Soarynn sighs in anticipation and Coriolanus doesn't keep her waiting. He eats her out like a starved man, paying close attention to her clit once she lets out a high-pitched moan.

Soarynn's entire body shakes while he pleases her, she doesn't even know what to do, what to say. He's left her speechless. Coriolanus laps at her cunt, tasting all her juices while his arms keep her from bucking him off. "Oh, please," she gasps, feeling herself getting closer and closer to her first orgasm, "right there." Coriolanus only goes harder once he hears her begging and Soarynn can feel that wire inside of her getting ready to snap. It only takes one hard suck on her clit for him to finish her off. Soarynn cries out his name while she cums and Coriolanus continues to work her with his mouth through her orgasm, only pulling away when she goes limp.

Soarynn's chest rapidly rises and falls while she attempts to collect herself and catch her breath after that amazing moment. Coriolanus chuckles and presses a kiss to her inner thigh before he crawls back up to her, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. His teeth gently tug on her bottom lip and Soarynn can feel his evident boner through his white boxers, "It appears you have quite the problem," she notes, grinding her hips up against him. Coriolanus groans and grabs her hip, "Don't tease me, darling."

Soarynn smiles against his lips, "But it's so much fun."

He scoffs and reaches down to finally free his cock from his boxers and Soarynn hasn't seen a cock quite like his before. It's got this curve that she just knows it going to feel so fucking good and it does nothing to ease her eagerness. "Let me get a condom," he mumbles, reaching for his nightstand but Soarynn is quick to stop him by grabbing his arm, "No need, I have the implant." His eyes widen but he nods, "You're sure? I don't want to see some child of mine a year from now running around the Capitol streets."

Soarynn smiles and does her best to hide the slight pain that shoots through her chest because she's reminded then and there that this is a one-time thing. After this Coriolanus will want nothing to do with her and she'll go back to being heartbroken. That's fine, perfectly fine.

"I'm sure," she says, slightly moving her hips to encourage him to put it in already. Coriolanus catches on instantly and grabs his cock and guides it to her entrance, "Let's see if you feel as good as you taste," he whispers, slowly pushing in. They both groan at the intrusion. He feels so fucking good, stretching her out just the way she likes it. "Oh fuck," she whimpers when he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressed against her sweet spot.

Coriolanus looks down at the sight of his cock buried in her cunt and lets out a deep sigh, "Never felt anything like you before," he tells her, slowly pulling out before slamming back in. Soarynn lets out a moan, her hands flying to his broad shoulders, "You can have it all," she tells him, her mind clouded with lust. That seems to open the floodgates because Coriolanus begins fucking into her at a hard and deep pace.

Soarynn's toes curl and she lets out a string of moans as he fucks her so good and deep, "Please," she whines, "please, please, please." Coriolanus grabs her waist and squeezes it tight, "You like it?" Soarynn tries to nod but even that's difficult with his cock so deep inside of her, "I love it," she says, her tone breathy. Coriolanus grunts and picks up the pace, "You look so perfect Soarynn. Such a perfect cunt, so pretty wrapped around me." His words do nothing to help the orgasm she feels creeping up on her and her eyes begin to roll back.

Coriolanus rests a hand on her lower abdomen, pressing down hard and it scrambles her brain and Soarynn can only let out pitiful noses, "There you go," he says, "give it all to me Soarynn, let me fuck you the way you should be fucked." Soarynn can feel her walls tightening around his cock and he swears, clearly feeling it too. Her nails are digging into his porcelain skin but he doesn't seem to care.

"I want you to cum for me Soarynn," he says, and it's more like a demand than anything, "cum for me and be my good girl Soarynn."

She's crying now from the overwhelming pleasure and can't think of doing anything else but her orgasm. He angles his hips and lands another thrust right against her sweet spot and Soarynn melts right then and there, her orgasm taking over her body.

All she can think about is Coriolanus. She's surrounded by him, can't get enough of him and he quickly reaches his own peak, his cum spilling into her cunt. Soarynn moans at the sensation, how good it feels even though he's a complete stranger. Coriolanus finally stills inside of her and catches his breath, his brow sweaty. Soarynn looks up at him and she expects the instant look of distance, the insulation that she leaves now that they're done but instead, she's met with a look of adoration. Something she's not too familiar with.

"You're so pretty," he mumbles, his hand coming up and gently tracing her jaw. Soarynn offers him a tired smile, "Thank you, thank you for everything." Coriolanus grins and presses a kiss to her forehead, "Of course, darling. I hope tonight provided you with that escape you were looking for."

Soarynn can feel her eyes getting heavy and she thinks she found it, that escape she was so desperate for as she falls asleep in Coriolanus Snow's bed.

꧁ ꧂

One month later

It's almost dark when she gets out of work. Soarynn wraps her coat tighter around her small frame as she hurries down the street. She got off of work late but that's no surprise. Fashion waits for no one.

All she wants to do is go home and soak in a nice warm bath, maybe watch a movie while she curls up with her cat. The Corso is only a few blocks away and while she normally doesn't mind a walk she wishes she wore better shoes today. The high heels sounded great at seven in the morning but not so much anymore. So Soarynn lets out a loud groan of frustration when the intersection she means to cross is under construction. "You'll have to go around miss," one of the workers tells her. Soarynn puts on a fake smile and nods, turning right back around with a now soured mood.

Walking around the block sounds less than desirable which is why Soarynn doesn't hesitate to cut through an alley that should land her on the other side of the block if her sense of direction is correct. She's halfway through when she hears voices.

Angry voices that belong to angry men.

She turns and looks back at the way she came but it seems so far now. She might as well keep forging ahead and pray no one notices her. One of the buildings on her right has a source of light coming from it and Soarynn can see several shadows, the owners of those voices no doubt. Soarynn keeps her head down, hoping to briskly walk by without any confrontation.

How naive of her.

She barely walks five steps before a low whistle cuts through the arguing and all conversation stops. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Soarynn glances to her right to see four men descending some steps, all wearing expensive-looking suits which further puzzles her as to why they'd pick on a girl like her. This is behavior she'd expect from lower-class men. "Out here all by yourself?" One of them asks, wearing a wicked grin as he gets closer to her. Soarynn instinctively backs up, "Don't touch me," she says, her voice cold. This pulls amused chuckles from all the men who shamelessly eye her up and down, "Feisty one huh? I like them feisty," the man says, taking another step towards her.

Soarynn scoffs and shoots him a nasty look, "You can fuck off." He's so close now, too close and Soarynn wishes for nothing more than to take off running but she knows she won't make it far. Not in heels. His friends get closer too, forming a circle around her. "I think my boss would be interested in you too," he drawls, reaching out to touch her face. Soarynn doesn't hesitate to bite his finger and he hisses and pulls his hand away, "You're a bitch huh?" He asks, his voice getting louder.

She can see his friends watching her carefully, their hands casually in their pockets, "I'm none of your fucking business," she snaps. This makes him narrow his eyes and he reaches into his coat, a moment later pulling out a gun and Soarynn's heart sinks.

The last time she laid eyes on a weapon she was with Coriolanus. But this isn't Coriolanus, this man isn't kind or funny or even handsome. And she hasn't seen Coriolanus since that night.

"You're gonna come with us or I'm gonna leave you out here with a bullet in between those pretty little eyes, understand?" He asks, pressing the barrel of the gun to her forehead. Soarynn nods because what else is there to do? He grabs her arm and she lets him pull her towards the tall brick building, his friends right behind them. She can hear them snickering about how their boss will love a little thing like her but she keeps her head down, trying to remain calm. She hopes they might simply take her purse but it seems they want to take something else instead.

She nearly trips going up the steps and the man's harsh grip on her does nothing to help. He pulls her into the building that seems to be a warehouse of some sort. Soarynn can't place the building in her mind but it doesn't seem to be important right now. "You keep your mouth shut," the man tells her, shooting her a stern look, "he doesn't like mouthy brats."

He knocks on a metal door and Soarynn braces herself for a horrible, old-looking man who likes to prey on young, innocent girls like herself. A muffled voice calls them in and the door creaks open as they walk in and Soarynn quickly scans the room for an exit. There's not even a window to try to climb out of. "Found you a little alley cat boss," the man proudly brags, pulling her forward. Soarynn scowls and finally looks up at the large mahogany desk in front of her and her eyes slowly travel up to the tall man standing behind it, his back turned to her. He seems to be pouring himself a drink from the bar cart behind him but her eyes widen at the color of his curls, the broadness of his shoulders.

She knows this man. Met this man. Talked to this man. Had sex with this man.

"Coriolanus," she whispers, her throat feeling so dry.

Her captor immediately lets go of her arm when she says his name and his eyes widen. The tall, broad man turns around at her whisper and Soarynn stares up into the blue eyes of Coriolanus Snow.

He looks surprised to see her, see her in his office with these men who work for him and bring him young girls they steal from off the streets. He shoots the group of men an angry look, "Out. Now." If she wasn't scared for her life then she'd think it was funny how quickly the men scampered out of the room, muttering apologies.

Coriolanus looks her up and down, taking in her petrified state, and pinches the bridge of his nose before he rounds the desk, stopping right in front of her. Soarynn can't bring herself to look him in the eye. He said he wasn't a part of a gang but she's starting to wonder what this is exactly. His hands reach out to take hers and she flinches, every kind memory of him washing away in her head.

Coriolanus doesn't let that stop him as he takes her small hands in his large ones, giving them a squeeze. Soarynn swallows and finally gains the courage to look up at him, this stranger who's clearly not who he said he was. She finds no trace of kindness in his eyes this time.

Finally, a small smile creeps across his face.

"Hello, darling."

| Part 1. |

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