#and i’ll smoke a pack with him i don’t even care so long as i could see his pretty mouth

[frnkiebby]

okay okay okay so ik we’re not supposed to glamorize smoking. but he’s so fucking pretty doing it.

frankie ft. his oral fixation.

fuel for my oral fixation. ~🎃

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 8: Nobody’s Son, Nobody’s Daughter

You hate how weak you are, sometimes.

That a text can ruin your whole day.

>> Hey. I hope you’re doing well. I miss hearing from you.

You’re fuming. Absolutely fuming. In under fifteen seconds you’re on your feet, face hot and heart pounding as you stomp across the old wooden floor.

“I’ll be right back.” You grunt to Johnny and Kyle, ignoring their wide, confused eyes and fast walking past them and out the back door.

The sun is up for longer now, only just beginning to set. It’s hot and hard to breathe, which only makes you more pissed off. Your skin prickles and blood rushes in your ears. You hate the way your hands shake. Your boot connects with the dumpster hard. It hurts, but you’re too pissed to really care. You just need it out of your system - the metal sending a ringing, gong-like sound bouncing around the back alley as you repeatedly slam your foot into it.

How dare he?

Miss hearing from you? YOU?

He ignores you for your whole childhood and teenage years - didn’t even try - and he misses hearing from you!? Couldn’t ever remember your age or grade when you did see him and he hopes your doing well!? Blew you off for his other kids for years and he fucking misses you!

How the hell did he even get your new number? Your mom, probably. The traitor. Fuck.

“Think that bin’s ‘ad enough, bird.” Simons voice startles you. He glances down at the dent you somehow managed to make. Your foot throbs when you put it back on the ground, shifting your weight onto the other one. One of your toes is bleeding, you think. You hand feel it soaking into your sock.

You look away, face hot from embarrassment now. “Didn’t know anyone was out here…”

Simon takes you in for a moment. Usually you don’t mind it - his intense silences - but right now it feels like being dissected. Like he’s pulling your skin back to reveal that squirming, tar-like creature aways simmering just a layer beneath. The pathetic little worm you try so hard to cover with a functional facade.

“Smoke?” He tilts the pack toward you. You wrinkle your nose - it’s a shit brand - but at the moment you wouldn’t care if it was made of actual shit as long as it had nicotine.

You pick one out and plop down on the weird curb that lines the opposite side of the alley. Simon sits beside you, raising his lighter toward you cupping his hand around the little flame to light your cigarette. It’s intimate, in a way, and if you had the emotional elasticity for it you might have blushed.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks after a few drags.

You shrug. “Dads suck.”

Simon hums. “That they do.”

“It’s just like-“ You make an exasperated sound and run your fingers through your hair. “Like if you’re not around for fuckin’ twenty years, you don’t get to act upset when I don’t want to talk ever. Just because now I’m the one that set the boundary. It’s stupid. It’s mean.”

Simon nods along as you ramble, your voice trailing off eventually. You both sit there quietly, for a moment. This is the type of silence that you don’t mind. Enjoy, even. Just existing together. At first you thought he hated you, or just didn’t like much of anybody, but you’ve come to theorize that he’s the same as you. That he gets stuck in his head, too. It’s nice, having someone to sit with without the need to entertain them. To preform.

Your lip quivers even as you attempt to stop it by sinking your teeth in. A killing blow. It doesn’t work. You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t know why I’m crying…”

“Because you’re hurt.” Simon bluntly replies. It’s soft, though. As soft as a voice like his can be.

“He doesn’t deserve it.” You sob, messily wiping at your eyes. Your eyeshadow is probably smudged to hell now but you can’t bring yourself to care. Hopefully the others don’t ask about it.

An arm wraps around you, tucking you close. The surprise of it almost knocks you out of your crying fit entirely. Simon isn’t touchy. With anyone. He doesn’t look at you, just keeps his eyes forward while he takes a long drag, but that arm remains around your shaking shoulders with you pressed to his side.

It’s quiet, as it usually is when you close up with just Simon. The others took off for the night. Johnny said something about a date before dragging Kyle off arm in arm. They must have set up some kind of double date for the evening. John’s last appointment had to reschedule so he knocked off early as well. It’s nice, really, to be alone in the shop with Simon. He lowers the music, helps you with sweeping and the trash. Tells you the newest joke from wherever the hell he gets them. Popsicles, you think, based on his sweet tooth and the quality of pun.

“C’mon. We’re takin’ a field trip.” Simon tilts his head toward the street past the turn to your apartment. He still insists on walking you home, even if the sky is still relatively bright.

You look up, frowning. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

You follow him down the quiet street. It’s warm and muggy as you go. You keep glancing up at Simon, waiting for some sort of tell. Some hint at where he’s leading you. In the back of your mind, you become innately aware that Simon is probably the only man you’d follow this blindly.

You nearly knock into him when Simon comes to a sudden stop. “Here.”

You look up, squinting at the tacky sign in what you can only describe as “intense manly man” font. Bold, blocky letters in bright orange with faux cracks scattered through the letters.

TANTRUM TANK

A mixture of stunned and curious leaves you quietly following Simon in. You press the spot between your brows to dissipate the confused frown. The lobby is pretty basic with a few decorations that mimic the style of the sign. Cracked facades and black walls. The room is lined with plastic chairs and a couple safety posters reminding patrons not to hit each other with the bats. A large television screen flashes between images of people in hazmat suits smashing various garbage and debris, pausing on a menu of times and prices.

“Simon!” A man appears behind the counter, face bright. “Here for your usual hour?”

Simon steps up to the counter, nodding in your direction. “Actually, I’ve got a plus one.”

The man’s brows raise and he looks you over, giving you ashort, polite greeting. You nod and smile back, pretending like you know why you’re here at all. You just watch as Simon briefly chats with the clerk who obviously knows him well. He’s a regular here, then. He doesn’t give anything away, just makes some brief, perfunctory small talk before taking a key and waving you after him. Why’d he bring you here, of all people?

Your heart skips at the thought of Simon wanting to do something with you, though. He brought you here because he wants to hang out - in his own way. He must do this with the other boys, too. Maybe one of them bailed on him or something. Part of you wonders if he didn’t want to come alone, but that doesn’t sound like him. Plus, you can’t say that its’ at all out of character for him to decide something and just do it with no other communication. You also can’t say you mind much. Not with him.

“You come here with the others a lot?” You ask as you follow him back to the room.

“No.”

You frown. Oh.

The two of you lapse into silence as you put your things away into designated lockers. There’s a sort of interim room before the actual rage room with storage and a few stacks of protective gear in various sizes. Simon’s quick about it. Practiced. He slips on the protective plastic suit quickly while you grunt and struggle with unfolding it. Your hair crinkles with static as you finally get the mass of plastic unfurled and step into it. Of course the one that fits you around is too damn long. At least the gloves fit.

“Simon?” You murmur, finally finding your voice - as weak as it comes out. “Why’d you bring me here?”

He looks you over for a moment with that same steady gaze as before. You’ve never felt seen like you do with Simon. Even with the others… they don’t see to the core of you like he does. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Some pathetic little part of you left over from your misunderstood teenage years.

“I ’ad a pretty shite father.” Simon says as he zips up his suit. “Taught me a lot of anger. I didn’t- I don’t want to be like ‘im. Don’t want people t’be scared…”

You stare, wide eyed, frozen in place. As if any movement would disrupt this new found honesty - would frighten the man away from confiding in you. It’s sudden and far more than you’ve gotten out of him in the months you’ve known each other. It’s too special to risk.

“Sometimes you’ve got t’get it out of your system. Better than breaking your foot on a skip.” He snorts, stepping forward and carefully pushing a pair of safety glasses over your eyes. One hand runs over your hair just for the briefest moment; another lightly pats your cheek before he turns on his heel, grabbing one of the bats hanging on the wall and making for the door.

You stare after him, shell shocked by both the admission and uncharacteristic physical touch. You involuntarily reach up to trace your fingertips over the cheek he touched.

Don’t want people to be scared…

A part of you breaks in the back of your mind. The obvious, unsaid ‘of me’ sits heavily on your tongue. Some distant image of what he might have looked like as a child. Small and blonde with those big dark eyes… You gulp down a tight breath and follow after him, just a little too close to crying at the implication.

Simon gestures toward a crooked, half broken office desk. “Ladies first.”

And oh, if that first swing wasn’t the best release you’ve had in a long, long time.

A/N: Sorry for being inactive the past couple weeks, I could literally write a novel with how much as happened irl🙃

Anyhoo next part y’all are getting lots of Price because that homecoming skin has got me fucked up

[papercorgiworld]

No smoke, only love in the air

Mattheo and Theo imagine

When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss. 

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long with this request. I still got few messages in my inbox. I will get to them I’m just short on inspiration, witch is new for me and kinda sad. I’m not super happy with this one but I wanted it finished and out here so I can have some inner peace. Anyways happy readings hopefully it’s not too bad and lots of love to all you darlings, may your week be filled with joy and good fictions. 💛

Mattheo 

You and your boyfriend join his friends at the astronomy tower. As soon Mattheo spots Theodore taking a drag from his cigarette he starts to crave one as well. Your boyfriend lets go of your hand. “Gimme.” Mattheo says reaching out his hand to his friend to ask for a kind donation of cigarettes, either because he was out of smokes or he had forgotten his pack somewhere. Theodore rolls his eyes and growls with his cigarette still between his lips. “Why are you so cheap, Riddle?” Theo complains while reaching in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Mattheo smiles wickedly at his friend’s annoyance as he still gets what he wants. 

Finally, with a cigarette between his fingers Mattheo’s eyes wander back to you. He gently tugs you towards him as he leans against the side of the railing. You let yourself fall against his chest and stay there in his arms for a few seconds as he argues with Theodore about him not being cheap. You roll your eyes in disgust when Mattheo starts mumbling with the cigarette between his lips.

You turn away when he lights his smoke. “Come back, princess.” Mattheo whines, he wants you back in his arms. “Nah I got to study, see you later.” You kiss him on the cheek. When you’re out of sight Draco lets out a howling laugh. “Future Miss Riddle doesn’t like it when you smoke.” Blaise snorts. “I don’t blame her, you better not smoke around her she deserves better than to inhale that filth”. Mattheo stares at his cigarette as if he had just now figured out it wasn’t a healthy snack. Truth is, he never cared and it never mattered but now you were in his life, it did matter.

That evening he smoked his last cigarette and ordered Theodore to not give him any smokes from now on. 

However dedicated Mattheo was to his plan to quit, it didn’t make it any easier. His body craved the nicotine and nothing calmed him… except for you. Your presence was some magical cure to relax his mind and body. Which resulted in Mattheo constantly searching for you and more specifically your lips. A kiss before class. A kiss after class. Maybe during class when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. A quick kiss in the hallway when he passed you. It seemed innocent and still quite normal, but the longer your boyfriend stayed away from the cigarettes the crazier he got about your kisses. Crawling in between crowds to get to you as quickly as possible for just a small peck. Sneaking into your classes to kiss you and of course getting detention for doing so. It could be the middle of dinner and he would just come sit between you and your friends to kiss you.

You sit in the great half for dinner with Hermoine and Luna on either side of you when Mattheo shamelessly puts his leg between you and Luna. “Excuse me.” He announces, urging Luna to scoot aside, which she does looking a little more confused than she normally does. “Matt?” You ask, surprised by his sudden appearance. He slings his arm around you without a word, before pulling you in for a tender kiss. Your friends blink a few times and Mattheo pulls away, leaving your eyes twinkly from the loving kiss. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Granger. Odd girl from Ravenclaw.” Mattheo nods to your friends and gets up leaving you very confused as your boyfriend has again stolen a kiss from you at a most random moment. “How am I the odd one?” Luna asks, turning to her food after watching Mattheo leave. “I think it’s cute.” Hermione says, not sounding convincing at all.

***

“Something’s off and you have to tell me what… because it’s getting out of hand.” You demand an explanation after Mattheo had just tackled you in the hallway to pull you into him and kiss you like his life depended on it. “What?” He laughed, “I'm allowed to kiss you, I’m your boyfriend.” Ron snorts, unable to keep his opinion to himself making Mattheo glare at him. You grab Mattheo’s face forcing him to look at you. “Matt, I love that you kiss me any time and all the time, but you’re kinda overdoing it.” You whisper those last words hesitantly, but Mattheo hears and is slightly offended. His tongue moves over his bottom lips as he seems to drown in serious thoughts. “Matt, I love you, talk to me.” You urge him to let you in. He sighs and gives in, pulling you into a more quiet hallway.

“I quit smoking.” He breathes out, immediately glad to have confessed it, and you let out a soft laugh. “That’s great… but what does that have to do with you going on a kissing-spree?” Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his hair and chuckles. “I get nervous without my smokes and my body craves the nicotine and you calm me.” His voice turns into a whisper as he confesses how important you are to him. You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Mattheo Riddle, are you using me as a drug?” You quip, crossing your arms, but unable to hide your obvious amusement. “No! You’re more like my favourite healthy snack.” Mattheo leans in for his millionth kiss and you're happy to snake an arm around him and deepen it. As silly as it was, it wasn't the worst to be constantly kissed by your boyfriend. 

Theodore

Your boyfriend sees you happily skip towards him and he immediately drops his cigarette, quickly crushing it with his foot to keep it from burning further. “Hi.” You smile with a happy face. You lean towards him for a kiss and Theodore eagerly wraps his arms around your figure. “Hi.” He whispers suggestively, while drowning in your eyes, but just as your lips are about to touch you pull away a little. “Ugh, you smell like cigarettes.” Draco and Mattheo snicker in the background and Theo is about to snap at them when Luna calls you. “Hi, (y/n)! Are you joining us in Hogsmeade?” You nod her way and place your hand on Theo’s chest. “See you later.”

“No kiss?” Theodore whines as you leave and you just crunch your nose making it clear to him that it was the cigarette smell and taste that came in between the kiss. As soon as you’re out of sight, Theodore curses. “I’m gonna have to quit, aren’t I?” Enzo nods and Theodore growls, before reaching for his pack and throwing it at Mattheo. “Early Christmas gift?” Mattheo grins and Theodore rolls his eyes. “Just, don’t give it back no matter how I beg.” Mattheo’s grin grows and turns wicked. “This is going to be fun.

***

“One?” Theodore asks Mattheo who’s lounging in the slytherin common room. “One of these?” Mattheo shows the pack of smokes, shaking it before quickly putting it away, earning a loud groan of frustration from his friend and in turn making Mattheo snicker. Theo lets himself fall on the couch opposite of Mattheo. “I’m going insane.” He complains, but just then you walk in and take a seat on your boyfriend’s lap. You want to greet Theo but he doesn’t let you, instantly crashing his lips into yours. “Hello to you.” You giggle and he responds with another kiss. Maybe this not smoking can work out after all. When the kisses turn more heated, some of Theo’s friends start howling while Blaise just looks annoyed at how his quiet reading moment got disturbed. “For the love of hygiëne, go to your room, Theo.” Your boyfriend breaks the kiss to make eye contact and check up on your opinion of Blaise’s idea. Without saying a word you grab Theo’s tie, leading him to his room.

Ever since that day Theo knew he had cracked the code. Your kisses calm him, so when he feels an urge to smoke again after class he doesn’t go begging for a cigarette with Mattheo but turns to you. You are still packing your books when your boyfriend walks over, snatching one of your books. You laugh and hold your hand out for him to return it. “Only if you kiss me.” You chuckle but lean into him and with an intense passion he takes your breath away. You blink a few times when he finally pulls away. “Here’s your book. See you later.” Again he lips meet yours, this time for a short and sweet kiss, but it still leaves you watching your boyfriend in shock. Since when is he so needy?

***

“Look at that, look at that.” Mattheo mocks with a cigarette between his lips, making Enzo and Theo turn in the direction he’s looking. Theodore doesn’t say anything, but a low grunt escapes him as you and Potter come into view. “The man’s flirting with ya girl, Theo.” Mattheo pushes, making Theo instinctively reach for his pack of smokes in annoyance. “They’re just friends, have been since first year, they’re never going to be anything more.” Theo sighs when he remembers that he doesn’t smoke anymore. “There’s plenty of girls I’m friends with… that I’ve seen naked.” Enzo adds with a grinny smile. “You’re both shit friends, you know that.” Theo complains reaching for the cigarette hanging from Mattheo’s lips. “Na-ah.” Mattheo mumbles as he pushes Theo’s hands away. “You’re one of those good boyfriends that don’t smoke, remember.” Theodore rolls his eyes and lets his head fall a little as his eyes focus on you. Normally a smoke would calm him and help him deal with his annoying friends but now… the agitation crept through his whole body. “I need a kiss.” Theo blurred, making his friends eye him strangely. “I’ll not volunteer as tribute for that.” Mattheo jokes, earning an eye roll from an irritated Theo. After a second of watching you talk with Potter, Theo makes up his mind. “I need my fix.” Theo surrenders to his craving and walks over leaving a confused Mattheo and grinning Enzo. “Man’s addicted to his girl. That’s a new level of love.” 

“Nott.” Harry simply states. “Hi T-” Theodore ignores your friend and doesn’t even let you finish, but just hungerly crashes his lips onto yours. “Wha-? Theo! You can’t just kiss me.” Your boyfriend’s eyebrows knit together. “Of course I can and I just needed one small kiss… Or maybe just one more.” Before you can say anything his lips again passionately move against yours. “Now you can go about your day.” Theodore says and just grimly nods at Potter as he always does, before walking in the direction of the castle. You stand there perplexed and a little annoyed. “Slytherin boyfriends, right?” Harry sighs like he knows how frustrating it can be, making you furrow for a moment before shaking it off. “I need to get to the bottom of whatever he’s got going on.” Harry nods understandingly and you run after Theo.

“Were you jealous?” You ask as soon as you’re close enough to Theodore. He turns and immediately shakes his head. “I just really needed to kiss you.” He explains like it’s normal reasoning. “Theo, I sometimes really want to kiss you as well but I never do it so desperately and urgently as you’ve been kissing me the past few days. What’s gotten into you?” Theo sighs at your continuous pushing. “Fine.” He says reluctantly, giving in to you. “I quit smoking… but it’s not exactly been easy.” Your brain tries to see a link between smoking and kissing but it doesn’t make any sense to you and your eyes show your genuine confusion to Theo, who can’t help but smile a little. “Kissing you calms me and helps me stay away from cigarettes. If I could I would put you in my pocket so I could kiss you whenever I’m stressed out.” You chuckle at his adorable confession, but quickly focus on the most important part. “You quit smoking?” You close the space between him and you, and start playing with his tie. “Yeah. I did. I don’t want to miss a moment with you because I smell bad and you deserve the best version of me.” You have no words for him and just kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you against him by your hips. 

Walking in on your little make out, Blaise rolls his eyes. “Again? Can’t you two behave? You’re shocking the first years.” Theodore parts from you and licks his lips. “Can’t do that to those poor first years, can we?” You play along and shake your head. “No, we definitely should take this somewhere private.” Your suggestion causes a happy grin to tug on your boyfriend’s lips. Not smoking is definitely working out for me.

[adverbally]

I Still Got You to Be My Open Door

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “‘Go, see if I care.’” | wc: 662 | rated: T | cw: referenced parental neglect | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, steve’s parents suck, references to cutting off contact with parents | title from “Grey Room” by Damien Rice

Steve’s own voice echoes after him as he slams the front door and stomps to his car.

“How did you think I would react?” Infuriated. Poisonous.

He fumbles his keys and they fall to the asphalt with a discordant jangle that sounds the way his nerves feel. He has to shut his eyes and breathe for a moment so he doesn’t fall apart.

“If you don’t want me here, I’ll go somewhere else.” Emotionless. Numb.

Another breath, then Steve retrieves his keys. He wonders, as he unlocks the car door, if he should leave his house key. He could drop it in the mailbox, slip it under the doormat. He could throw it in the pool or toss it into the woods behind the house…

The silence inside the car is deafening. It was quiet enough outside, the sun already setting on a short fall day, but every bird’s song and rustle of leaves had seemed magnified by the roar of his pulse in his ears. The car muffles everything outside, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.

“Go, see if I care.” Sneering. Disdainful.

That’s the part that stings the most. His parents dropped this on him over the phone. They couldn’t even be bothered to come home to discuss it. Probably because in their minds, there is nothing to discuss. They will be selling the house, they will be moving to New York for his dad’s business, and they need his belongings packed up by the end of the month.

They didn’t invite him to come with them. They hadn’t even thought to ask what his plans were, now that they were yanking his home out from under him.

“Good luck in the city, I guess.” Hurt. Abandoned.

Steve drives around town in silence for what feels like hours, replaying the conversation over and over. What should he have said differently? Would it have changed anything? No, he decides. At the end of the day, the fact is that his parents don’t care about him, don’t even know him, and this kind of fight was a long time coming.

It still makes Steve’s throat tight. Standing up for himself like this means he’s given up all hope of having a relationship with his parents. As unlikely as that was, the possibility had been there. They could wake up one day and realize how absent and neglectful they had been, could apologize and beg for his forgiveness and try to make it up to him. That bridge is well and truly burned, now, which isn’t surprising but still feels like a gut punch.

Without consciously picking a destination, Steve finds himself parked outside the Munson home. He kills the headlights, shuts off the ignition, but doesn’t get out of the car. Now that he’s stopped moving, he doesn’t have the momentum to start again.

The tap on his window is gentle but it still makes him jump. Of course it’s Eddie, standing there in one of Steve’s old Hawkins High sweatshirts, peering at him through the glass with that concerned frown Steve loves so much. “You okay?” he mouths.

Steve can’t begin to answer that right now. He opens the car door, careful not to hit Eddie, and slips out right into Eddie’s comforting embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Eddie murmurs, one hand holding Steve’s head against his shoulder and the other rubbing up and down his back.

“My parents,” he sighs. That about sums it up.

Eddie doesn’t ask him to elaborate, just squeezes him tighter. “You can stay over if you want. Wayne won’t mind, and he’s working tonight anyway.”

Everything will wait until tomorrow, when the hurt isn’t so fresh and he can make plans with a clear head. For tonight, Steve can cuddle up with his boyfriend, in borrowed clothes that smell like Eddie, maybe smoke a little, and stop thinking so hard.

“Thanks,” he tells Eddie, his voice small.

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “Any time.”

[wannabeschyulersister]

so long, chicago

Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.

Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.

After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.

You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.

“Hey.” You said softly.

He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”

“The movers should be here any minute.”

Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.

“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”

“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”

“I guess that’s nice.”

“You guess?”

“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”

“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.

“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”

“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”

Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”

You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.

“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.

“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.

“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”

“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”

Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.

“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.

“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”

“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”

“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.

You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.

Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.

“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.

As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.

You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.

It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.

[eddaawrites]

Flu season - Chris Sturniolo

A/n hey, so this is my first post which means I’m gonna need some constructive criticism. Don’t worry I’m the eldest granddaughter my feelings won’t be hurt. Also I wanted to start off chill so this is just some fluff of Chris taking care of you when you’re sick. I’m in love.

Warnings- tooth rotting fluff, reader is really sick (duh-doy) and no use of y/n.

Now without further ado-do (hah! I said doodoo), I present Christopher Owen Sturniolo.

—————————

This is just not my day. First of all I went to sleep with a major headache, so I barely got any sleep tonight. Secondly I woke up with a fever so bad that I couldn’t even get myself out of bed and lastly I can’t find the remote to my tv so I’ve just been laying here like a cinder block all day while sweating like a pig.

I stare at the ceiling hoping I’d eventually just fall asleep, only to be interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing to my right. I groan rolling over to my side to check the contact, my heart fluttering at the sight of my boyfriend’s name. I grab my phone hitting answer and put the phone on speaker because I don’t have the energy to hold the phone.

I initiate the conversation to let him know I’m here. “Hey, you.” I croak, my voice sounding like I’ve smoked 20 packs a day since birth.

“Hi, baby” he answers “am I waking you up? You sound tired.” He asks. “No, I’m just a bit sick. Think I caught the flu or something. But what’s up?” I try to act fine but my voice betrays me.

“Are you sure you’re fine? You don’t sound too good. Do you want me to come over and cuddle you?” He asks completely ignoring my question.

“Yeah, baby I’m fine. And you probably shouldn’t come over, I’ve got 104 degrees and I smell like a rats ass.” I say, not wanting him to see me like this. He’s seen me sick before since we’ve been dating a while but not like this.

“Well that’s too bad.” I’m completely lost until I hear the turning of the lock of my apartment door and the faint sound of footsteps coming my direction. My door opens to reveal a gleaming Chris, holding my favourite flowers in one hand and a bag full to the brim with all my favourite foods.

I sit up pouting at him “how did I get so lucky?” He smiles handing me the flowers, setting the bag down and pressing his hand against my forehead to check my temperature, then sliding it down to rest against my cheek.

“Aw, you poor thing. You’re burning up” he says genuinely. “I’m gonna go run you a bath and I’ll be right back” he says pressing a kiss to my temple and pulling away.

“Man I really do smell bad, don’t I?” I say sarcastically, grinning from ear to ear as he walks to the bathroom. I hear him chuckle and then water running.

He comes back to the room reaching his hand out for me to grab. I grip it and he pulls me to my feet and I wobble a bit, blood rushing to my head after laying in bed all day. I then feel an arm at the back of my knees and under my right arm and suddenly I’m in the air, Chris carrying me bridal style to the bathroom.

He puts me down to sit on the toilet seat. I let him help me undress, not caring as long as I get to get in the bath soon. My muscles aching for relief.

When I step into the bath I instantly relax, the water is the perfect temperature. Warm enough to ease some tension in my shoulders and back but not too warm so that I feel nauseous.

I feel like I’m at a spa, Chris went to my room and grabbed a face mask I’ve been meaning to use and applied it for me, even putting some on himself. And now he’s washing my hair for me.

I actually think I fall asleep for a second, the mixture of no sleep, a warm bath and a scalp massage getting the best of me.

When I’m done bathing he grabs me some pyjamas and helps me get dressed. We get back to bed, pulling out the snacks and turning on the tv after he found it under my pillow and watching 10 things I hate about you.

He’s so gentle with me, peppering my face with kisses, whispering how much he loves me and holding me so tight I think he might break one of my ribs.

I don’t remember falling asleep but when I wake up I’m wrapped up in his arms and I’m feeling so much better.

Chris however…

���———————

A/n I love this so much, actually broke my heart to think about the fact that none of you will ever experience this because Chris and I are happily married with 3 kids😔💔 but on a serious note, please tell me if there’s anything you want me to do differently next time! I expect you guys to be absolutely brutal in the comments. Thank you guys for reading, I hope it lived up to your expectations! XOXO 💋

[linkcities]

in a year or two (i'll take care of you) | gojo satoru/reader

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

You ask him this moments before the two of you begin your journey home, dragging along your worn out suitcases and the individual white plastic bags filled with dirty laundry. You ask him this and you’d come to realize later on in your life that it’s a question he found himself thinking of whenever he hears your name.

He places his head against yours gently. “I do.” He whispers, “sweet peas, if you know them.”

You hum. “What do they mean?”

Geto Suguru and his jet black irises gleam under the light of the vernal sun, his hair dancing along to the music of the leaves from before. Through the corner of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of the way he smiled at you so softly that day—it’s one you’ll grow to never forget, regardless of how many years pass you by.

“I’m a bit unsure, but,” he tells you, his index finger tapping the tip of your nose. “It’s ‘thank you for the time we spent.’”

or,

Snippets of your grief after Geto Suguru's betrayal, spread throughout the course of thirteen years; alongside the only person who could understand even just a crumb of your pain.

—

pairing | gojo satoru/reader

note | this is a preview of the current 'fic i'm working on. not sure when i'll be posting it, but the projected word count for this piece is around 17,000 words, subject to change. enjoy! :]

—

The day after that, Shoko went on to pretend as if nothing happened. She continued her routine. Medical check-ins, training, mission updates. The day after that, from Satoru, you heard that she blew through an entire pack of cigarettes in under six hours. You think this must be her way of repenting. Irrational penance for something she knew she wasn’t accountable for.

In the present, Satoru hops up to sit on the metal bar posing as the only hurdle between you and the running stream. His hands are in his pockets now, your bag discarded safely next to the railing. Carefully, just as he averts his stare elsewhere in the distance, he brings out an old and tapered pack of cigarettes.

You watch him intently.

“Stop staring at my hands.” He grumbles underneath his breath, loud enough for you to get rightfully annoyed by. “I don’t want to hear whatever you have to say.”

Your heart drops to your stomach after that. You say nothing in response.

Satoru tugs out his lighter from his other pocket cautiously, as though he was testing out your reaction first, and when he realizes that no protest would be sprinting towards his direction, he takes a stick from the box and he brings it close to his lips. You watch everything through the corner of your eyes.

The lighter clicks, and then you wince. Smoke flows out through his mouth in seconds, three coughs following suit. He tests it out repeatedly, a few more times, more and more times; waits for his body to get used to the smoke.

Halfway through his first stick, he coughs violently after a long puff. You wince again. “I’ll leave if you don’t put that out.” You mutter, displeased, waving away the cloud of gray enveloping your surrounding area. He doesn’t budge.

Deep breath. You know better than to try and tell him what to do. I know better than this. There was no rational conversation to be had when it came to Satoru. They were only ever frustrating and indignant and brutal and upsetting. “It’s bad enough that Shoko’s smoking more and more each day.” You try to bite your tongue, but the metallic taste of your own blood only makes you want to keep speaking, “why are you doing this to yourself, now, too?”

Ash falls from the burning end of the cigarette. He hangs the stick loosely between his index and middle finger, turning around to rest his elbows against the silver railing. Satoru does not offer you anything but an unconcerned shrug.

More and more ash falls atop the grass beneath your soles. When he coughs for the last time, you push yourself off the barricade and turn to the direction of the subway station.

“This isn’t mine.”

You pause. Satoru exhales deeply behind you.

“Shoko and I cleaned out Suguru’s old room three days ago,” he tells you, quietly, overdosing on the wave of uncomfortable air. “We were supposed to clean it with you, but your mission was extended and Yaga said we can’t keep putting it off.”

At this, you clench your fists. You take it upon yourself to look back at Satoru, who was now standing straight—overlooking the flowing river, watching the currents pass by and turn orange. You dissolve into a puddle of many, many regrets. You circle in on the lingering emptiness that has been tormenting you for weeks, and the conclusion strikes you like lightning again, almost as though you were realizing it for the first time: We had all lost something so terribly important when Suguru left. It all happened so quickly, you think to yourself. Suguru left quickly, too. Just three weeks ago. The wound was recent and fresh and the higher-ups didn’t even give you enough time to let it scab first before ordering you to search through Suguru’s things. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

This isn’t mine.

That’s what Satoru said. So it must be Suguru’s. It couldn’t be Shoko’s; she never liked to share. You and Satoru never smoked as often as they did. No, incorrect, the two of you never smoked at all. You walk closer back to the railing, laying your left hand on top of the bar.

“Did you find anything?” You ask him. “Anything worth keeping?”

You see him struggle with looking for an answer for your question. Satoru was never subtle with what he was feeling. “I took some of his clothes,” he starts, “I kept a bunch of his shoes, too. We’re the same size. Shoko took his lighters and books.”

There’s a lump in your throat filled with words you know you’re not allowed to speak into existence. You want to tell him, though. Put it back in his room. I can’t handle seeing someone other than Suguru wear his clothes. You argue with yourself, inwardly. You asked him the question, yes, but truthfully you were hoping he’d answer no. No, I didn’t find anything. It’s equally as devastating, but at least that way you’d carry no reminder of his leaving.

(But is that what you really want? To forget? To erase all traces of Geto Suguru from your brain?)

It’s a horrible thought to have. It’s a horrible thought to have. Satoru and Shoko were more than welcome to grieve the way they wanted to grieve, and the lord knows you weren’t significant enough to the universe to ever be given the right to police them.

A single cough. He disrupts your thoughts, loudly stomping over them, almost as if he knew what was running through your head. You know he does. “I don’t know why I decided to keep them.” Satoru directs his stare down to the ground, his hair nestled in front of his eyebrows. “They’re in boxes on top of my closet. If you want some of them, just let me know.”

Your mind goes numb. You don’t know how to respond to that. Satoru’s saying all the right things right now and you’re unsure of how to handle his being rational—it’s not like he hasn’t been this way in the past, it’s just that usually Suguru was the one who was often rational enough for the both of them. Your mind goes numb. You hear nothing but an incessant ringing. Ultimately, you understand what Suguru’s abandonment entails; you know that his leaving necessitates numerous adjustments and relearning of previous lifestyles. If Yaga were here, he’d say something along the lines of Good. If it took him leaving to get Gojo to straighten up, then good. You could honestly hear his voice saying that. But you know he never would. He’s high strung, but he’s not heartless. You’re projecting something.

You’re projecting something because everything feels either wrong or excessive. Satoru is being rational and quiet and Shoko is avoidant and even more jaded than before. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be; and yet Satoru stares at you, finally, for the first time in a while, with wide blue eyes and chapped and parted lips, staring so expectantly almost as though he’s tethered to your reactions. The sheer weight of his eyes alone is too heavy for you to carry.

“I don’t.” You say, finally. After several agonizing minutes of only trickling silence. “Keep them, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have a place for them in my room, anyway.”

In the blink of an eye, the weight dissipates when his pupils slant themselves back towards the gushing river. The tension is thick, and so is his nearly tangible disappointment, but you convince yourself it’s out of your control. Gojo Satoru is a god among mortals and if his sorrow cleaves the world in half, the burden of stitching it all back together shouldn’t fall on one as miniscule as you.

“Alright.”

He throws the worn out pack of cigarettes to the steep downhill curb near the river, and then he turns around to walk to the direction of the subway station. His footsteps echo loudly in your head. It disrupts the incessant ringing from before.

An exhale escapes your throat. None of the air you’re trying to keep inside is staying inside. You lean against the barricade. We had all lost something so terribly important when Suguru left.

When the silhouette of the young god’s retreating form no longer appears in your peripheral vision, you descend down to the river and you pick up the pack of cigarettes before the wind blows it towards the water. The sun sets in the horizon, and you feel an ache inside your chest, a thrumming in your head; the ghost of a migraine looms over you, and yet you think it couldn’t possibly feel any worse than this.

[ghost-proofbaby]

EDDIE MUNSON - OURS

😭😭😭

ours (eddie’s version)

warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff <3

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: i got a little carried away. but i wish i had an eddie munson to go home to each night and just kiss and cuddle goddamn it

“Oh, is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s… interesting.”

“I guess when you said you had a boyfriend, I never envisioned someone like him.”

“You two are such… opposites! I mean- no! No, not a… bad thing, I suppose. Just… interesting.”

You were growing tired of it. You know people didn’t mean for their incessant questions or comments to get under your skin so badly, but they did. Any time someone at your new job caught sight of your phone’s lock screen – a joyous selfie of you and a sunburnt Eddie at the lake – or your work computer’s screen saver – a photo taken at dusk of Eddie on your couch, strumming on his guitar completely unaware – they had something to say. Something to point out. Whether it be the way you two didn’t seem to fit in their minds, or how rough around the edges he seemed to be. Some coworkers even pressed on how long you two had been together, pulling out the marriage card at a completely inappropriate time. One coworker had even made a snide remark on his long hair, saying “oh, I thought that was a girl! What a relief!”. It just…. It dug beneath your skin every time without fail, making you uncomfortable and irritated all in the same breath. 

You don’t understand why they cared so much. It wasn’t their relationship – they didn’t know you. You’d only started the job a few months prior. They could eat shit, for all you care.

Today had been a bad day. Maurice, one of the elderly women who worked at the front reception desk, had just been awful. She was always talking of you going on a date with her grandson, each time conveniently forgetting that you were already happily in a relationship, but today she’d crossed a line. She’d had her grandson physically come into the office at lunch time, and caught you just as you were on your way out the door to try and pick up something to hold you over until five o’clock would finally arrive. 

The one day you didn’t pack your own lunch. Go figure. 

“Oh! Dear! Over here!” she called  to you as you tried to scurry past her desk. You had held out the hope that the young man standing beside her would have occupied her, but no. No such luck for you on this wicked Thursday.

You took a deep breath before you turned slowly, forcing a polite smile as you faced the elderly woman, “What can I do for you, Maurice?”

“This is my grandson!” she animatedly motioned to the blonde boy at her side, and as he looked up, your stomach dropped, “Jason! The one I was telling you about!” 

Jason fucking Carver.

“Oh,” you tried to keep kind in your tone, but you were already feeling hatred prickle at the back of your neck. You knew all about Jason — he’d made Eddie’s life living Hell too many times to count. He was nothing like the angel Maurice had tried to paint, “I… It’s nice to meet you, Jason, but I really should get going. I’m on my lunch.” 

Jason didn’t take the social cue, stepping forward and stretching out his hand towards you, “Pleasure to finally meet the beautiful coworker my grandmother has been going on and on about. Words really didn’t do you justice.”

Gag. “You’re too kind. I do hope she also mentioned I’m already spoken for.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, glancing at Maurice for a second. “You’re taken?” 

You opened your mouth to say, yes, I am happily taken, but Maurice was already waving her hands about as if that fact of the matter was nothing more than trivial smoke. “Technicalities. She has a fling with that Munson boy-“

“It’s not a fling,” you stressed, your patience meeting its end, “We’ve been together for years. We live together. I’m really sorry, Jacob,” you purposefully say the wrong name as you turn to Jason, exasperated and not sorry in the slightest, “But I’m not interested. I’ll see you after lunch, Maurice.” 

You think you heard Jason call out a correction of his name from behind you, but you paid him no mind. Fuck him.

You ended up taking a longer lunch, not even caring for the consequences just so you could sit in your car and call Eddie. You described each person who walked into the building that you caught sight of, completely forgetting to scavenge a snack, too wrapped up in giggling at every ridiculous joke or story he makes up for the strangers.

He made it feel better. Maurice and Jason and everyone’s incessant comments forgotten. Their judgments never took this into consideration — this tranquility and Eddie’s ability to make you laugh until your ribs ached. They never considered the love that carried you home each night.

Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You practically speed the entire way home, forgetting to watch for any police cars half the time. Your poor front door cries out on its hinges as you barrel through it with only one thing on your mind: Eddie.

“Hey baby-“ Eddie tries to greet you, but he hardly has the time to set his guitar to the side before you’re falling into his lap where he sits on the couch. “Oof, bad day?” 

Your thighs bracket his hips and your nose is already nuzzling into his neck, his soft laughter shaking his shoulders slightly as your arms wind themselves around him to the best of your abilities. He returns the favor without hesitation; arms hold you close to his chest and you can feel his nose dip to graze along your temple.

“The absolute worst,” your voice is muffled by his neck, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you continue, “I swear to God, if I had know this office was full of such judgmental assholes I would have never-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he pulls you back slightly, bringing his hands up to hold both cheeks between his palms as his thumb trails softly against your cheek bone, “Are they being mean to you? Because if they are, just say the word – I’m not afraid to kick a couple of grandmas’ asses.” 

You laugh, sniffling a bit, still on the verge of tears out of relief of being home with him finally, “No, no. You don’t need to go and kick any elderly ass – today.” 

“What about tomorrow?” 

You pretend to think about it as you finally slide off his lap, sitting to his side as your legs remain draped on his lap. He’s quick to reach down and let his calloused fingertips graze a trail down your thigh, ending at your ankle before he wraps them around it and squeezes softly, “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.”

“Yeah?” he questions, leaning his face down to your shoulder, peppering kisses there, eyes still attempting to glance up at you in adoration through thick lashes, “So not a no. Got it. I’ll have my boxing gloves at the ready.” 

You both laugh as Eddie continues his short assault of kisses. 

Your coworkers can say whatever they want. They can judge the two of you based on short snapshots all they please – they can’t take this from you. Not as his lips brush your collarbones, not as his palms massage your calves, and certainly not as he murmurs soft declarations of how much he missed you all day against your skin. 

“Say, you wanna play a song for me on that guitar, rockstar?” you say as you thread your fingers through his curls, noting the way they’re extra soft, as if he’d done a hair mask like you always pestered him to. 

He lifts his head and leans back casually against the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he smiles at you like you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand, “Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna spend some time with my baby.” 

“Oh, I see,” you snort, “You’re gonna break out sweetheart instead? No more dragon-slaying for today?” you joke, referencing his nicknames for his two guitars. 

He only shakes his head and rolls his eyes at you, surging forward and capturing your lips against his, teeth clashing a bit due to both of your wild grins. He has you falling backwards into the couch cushions in an instant and lets his weight settle between your thighs, enveloping you in smells of home. Just him, just you, just the love that you two have gardened here. No opinions of others ever needed.

“Shut up. I love you.” 

“and it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong. and your hand’s a tough but they are where mine belong.”

[juliasturnz]

“Your looking at me like I’m see through.”

🜸 - this fanfic is based of this song! I hope y’all like it! (I got it suggested♥️)

★ - summary:

Matt has been acting so weird lately you are trying to find out, but you find something you don’t wanna know. You leave right away from this terrible place.

༆- warnings!

Angst, cussing, mad!Matt, pushing (nothing more!), use of alcohol, a lot of crying and smoking

✫彡 - writers note:

there will be lyrics while reading, so if that annoys you I’m sorry, This fanfic might be not for you.

★ - other role!!

In this fanfic there is a best friend called Haley (when she talks her color is purple) - little backstory about Haley!

You have been friends with Hayley like since forever. Y’all got into pretty many fights but you two are still the same after, she always tells you that’s she’s here for you and that isn’t gonna change no matter what.

- I know you don’t care but can you listen? -

You have been in a fight with Matt that seems to happen more then 1 time a week. But every time y’all fought he didn’t listen at all of even look at you. ‘Matt can you fucking listen to me?’ He doesn’t even look up from his phone. To busy texting. When you call his name again all he does is rolls his eyes and you can hear the typing again, it makes you sick.

‘Matt!’ He looks up with a furious look. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’ ‘Can’t you fucking hear that I’m talking to you?’ And yet again he ignores you and goes on further with his fingers tapping rapidly across the screen. You walk up to him and grab his phone. He starts to freak out, ‘Y/N WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?’ He fully yells at you with his eyes widened. ‘So your texting another girl aren’t you?’ ‘Ugh fuck it, I don’t give a single shit about you.’ His words just randomly fall out of his mouth. ‘What did you say?’ Tears start to swell up in your eyes, have you really been that stupid, how didn’t you notice?

- so i think I better go, I just never know how to please you, your looking at me like I’m see through -

‘Im going to pack my bags I’m going to leave, I don’t deserve this.’ He walks back to the couch and quickly drinks the beer that was standing on the coffee table next to your glass with soda that is still fully filled. ‘Right.’ He just says while you watched him drinking his beer. You start waking down to the bedroom where you get all of your stuff and leave the vanity that he build with all love what makes you sick to look at. You plop on the bed and put your hand before your face and the tears start to fall down from your eyes what makes your hands soaked.

* about a hour passes *

‘What the fuck is taking you so long, get out of here bro.’ Matt is standing in the doorway and looking at you with a drunk look, wait have you been in here that long?

- Not thinkin' you would have left me gladly -

You are still surprised you get to see this side of Matt that you’ve never experienced, and now it’s happening all at once. You didn’t even pack your bags yet, you’ve just been sitting there crying. ‘You haven’t even packed your bags hurry the fuck up!’ His voice gets a little lower but even louder, you quickly stand up and get your stuff while Matt leaves the room.

When you finally get to the point where you have at least 3 bags full of clothes, makeup and more. you reach the hall way into the living room. You look at the couch where your ex-boyfriend is now fully drunk laying down. He turns his head from the movie he’s watching and immediately begins to start arguing with you. ‘So when are you going to fucking leave?’ ‘I’ll leave when I feel like it.’ He stands up from the couch and walks up to you while tripping over random stuff, ugh he’s so drunk. You roll your eyes and you put down your full and heavy bags down. He’s standing right in front of you. His eyes are not even fully open, and he can’t look at you straight. He pushes you, you fall back just a little, he doesn’t even have that much power to push you. ‘Get out!’ He’s fully yelling at you. You don’t look at him but look outside. Why does it have to be raining right now, this feels like a straight up movie scene. You turn your face to his drunk expression again. ‘Fuck you Matt! I fucking loved you, I really did.’ But in stead of lower his voice he starts laughing at you, ‘did you actually think I liked you?’ He just keeps on laughing, your legs are frozen. Your tears just keep on flowing from your eyes to your cheeks and your neck. ‘Yeah keep on crying that’s all you do, now don’t make me say it again.’ ‘But I-I’ ‘LEAVE. MY. FUCKING. HOUSE.’ you pick up your heavy bags and leave the apartment right away. While you leave his apartment, you call up the one and only real person in this fucked up world.

You tap on your best friend’s name and call her right away. ‘Hey girll I’- ‘can you just pick me up please.’ You are still sobbing from the things that happened this quick. ‘Oh my god my baby ofcourse, I’ll be on my way, Matt’s apartment right?’ ‘Mhm.’ She hangs up the phone and you stand outside already soaking wet from the rain that’s falling quick out of the starry sky.

When Haley reaches his apartment she quickly comes out of the car. ‘Oh my baby what happened.’ You were finally done crying and once again you start sobbing. ‘You can tell me everything just come in the car I brought some dry clothes.’ She has such a kind soul, I don’t deserve her.

You are now changed in her warm clothes trying to explain everything. ‘I’m going to fucking murder that guy.’ She already wants to step out the car when you stop her. ‘He’s drunk asf he doesn’t give a shit about what your gonna say. Can we please just go to your house.’ ‘Ofcourse we can.’ She gives you a warm smile and starts the car. The whole ride to her house it has been quiet in the car, only a little bit crying from you and her hand rubbing your back. When y’all are finally there she opens her door walks over to you and opens your door and helps you get out of the big car. ‘I’ll take your bags, wait for me at the front door okay?’ ‘Mhm’ you talk to the big front door and keep waiting there while just looking into your phone for a little bit. And end up texting nick and Chris about the situation. Haley comes to you with your big 3 bags. ‘Do you need some help?’ You giggle the slightest bit seeing her struggle with the big bags. ‘I do actually.’ She starts giggling with you.

You enter her big house that you remember easily. You turn around and look at her face with again that comforting smile on her face. ‘I’m so glad you could pick me up.’ ‘Always here like I promised.’ She walks up at you with a smile and hugs you, she slightly pets you on the head. ‘You’ll be okay ml.’ She is everything you could wish for.

After the most comforting hug you’ve ever had you help her with your bags and bringing them upstairs. When you let the bags fall on her bedroom floor. You walk over to her bed a fall down on it. Your now looking at her filled ceiling, but your not thinking about the filled ceiling your thinking about Matt and what the last thing he said was. You roll over, and start sobbing again. Haley comes into the room with the last 2 bags and quickly drops them on the floor, ‘hey hey! Come here.’ She sits down on the bed and picks you up to give you another hug. ‘Do you wanna smoke? It helps you forget your thoughts for a while.’ She says, you’ve never smoked before but you’re gonna do anything to forget him for a while. ‘I really do but I’ve never done it.’ ‘I’ll learn you.’

About 10 minutes later you’ve learned how to smoke and it really does helps to forget Matt. ‘I love this so much it’s really relaxing.’ You look at Hayley with a smile and she just simply smiles back, ‘Ofcourse anything for you.’

Suddenly you hear your phone buzz, your heart drops. ‘It’s Matt’ you say out loud, you haven’t blocked him yet. You just couldn’t, ‘come again?’ Hayley looks at you with a shocked face, ‘your not serious right?’ You can’t do anything, your just stuck in a sitting position with still a cigarette in your hand. ‘He’s saying sorry.’ You click on the notification and you type “it’s okay” even though you know it’s happy hour, (he always had one hour when he was drunk when he suddenly started to act affectionate) but someone is also looking at your phone. ‘Yeah no we’re not doing this he’s obviously not, give me your phone.’ You are still so in shock and still so in love, he has done everything for you. He was the one. ‘We are definitely gonna ignore this message till tomorrow, let’s see if he deletes it. That’s when we know when it’s real.’ ‘Okay.’ You look down at your legs, I think he really means it tho. ‘Hey it’s for the better okay?’ ‘Should we watch a movie?’ ‘Yes.’ Your face lightened up a little bit even though all you could think about is the “im sorry” text. ‘You can choose.’ You pick one of her favorites.

During the movie she suddenly asks, ‘not to rude or anything or bring it up like this but why did you choose him.’ She asks you with a curious but also with furrowed eyebrows. ‘I just kinda knew, he was always there for me. But he suddenly changed idk what happened.’ ‘I’m so sorry for asking about it.’ ‘No it’s okay.’ Your eyes are watering and she hugs you tight once again. Your still crying ‘I just want a good explanation idk I just still love him so much…’ ‘a-and im afraid I won’t let go.’ ‘I’ll help you through it all ml’ she’s a little taller then you so she looks down at you with a little smile.

Its finally the morning and you wake up with Haley smiling at you with a little breakfast table with all your favorite food on it. ‘Oh my god Hayley you’re the best!’ You just opened your eyes so your voice is raspy asf. A wide smile appears on your face. ‘Ofcourse my lady anything for you.’ She does a little bow what makes you giggle, ‘no but fr thank you.’ ‘Anytime. Alright I let you eat your breakfast and do your thing, I’m going to the store rq do you want me to bring you something?’ ‘No I’m good thank you.’ You both give each other another smile and she walks out of the door.

About three minutes later you hear the front door close with a bang. You immediately look at your phone, is this even a good idea? Yes I need fucking answers. You open your phone and the “I’m sorry” message is gone.

- I know your not sorry, why should you be? Cus who am I to be in love, when your love never is for me … me -

★ another little note:

I appreciate you so much for supporting me! Make sure to like this post if you want to see more from me🤭 comment if you wanna be tagged in the taglist🏷️

tags

@042502 @pepsiboyy @pepsiluvr0209 @sturnioloshacker @sturniolonmc @sturniolo-fann @sturnioz @sturniololvrrr @sturnzsblog @sturnzwrld @sturnzyolo @sturnzluv @sturnzsun @sturniololoverr @chrisslut333 @chris-slut @chrissv4mp @chrisshotdog @chrissfawn @mattsfavbitchhh @mattsturnswife @mattsgf @matts-k1tten @hollandsangel @hoeformatt @hoesformatt @heartmatt @strawberrysturniolo

[hana-no-seiiki]

Yoooo idk if you know what my hero academia is but what about a batsib( platonic) who’s a lot like dabi. Abused all there life has blue fire burns all over them. Abnormal body heat. Who would be more interesting in the fire? Who would help batsib take care of there burns. HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE STABLES COMING OFF!!!

Just the amount of chaos has me foaming out the mouth. 

YANDERE BATFAM + YANDERE TODOROKI CLAN x READER

I tweaked your request a bit and added yan todo clan into the mix if you don’t mind anon? if you rather a version without them then feel free to request again!

I’ll prolly do a part two of this to expand more on the Todo family, Tim, Dick, and Bruce but who knows what my ADHD will hyperfixate on next.

God can I just say that I love Todoroki Clan v Batfam fics. However few and far between they are so I’ll be writing this with a Todoroki! Reader in mind. Perhaps a twin of Dabi.

status: unedited

Humans have a natural, visceral attraction to fire. One can’t help but be drawn to its glow.

You were born as Touya’s (fraternal) twin except your power didn’t have to rely on emotions.

You burned the day you were born. Hurting your mother in the process. Scalding her skin as she desperately tried to feed you despite the danger it meant to her well-being.

In spite of her growing hatred for her husband, you managed to sear your way into her heart and make your mark.

Rei adored you. You looked the most like her underneath all the flames and charred skin. She would coo at you while glaring at her failures. She would run her hands through your hair while the room slowly froze when hearing about that kid who asked for your hand in marriage.

You were her precious gem. A jewel amongst the icky, dark, coal the others call her children. She would do anything for you. Anything.

Enji had to admit. He loved you more than his ambitions himself. He abhorred the pained screams you’d make whenever you tried using your powers. Luckily, unlike his eldest son, you were much more susceptible to the idea of not becoming a hero. All of his attempts at another heir were all in hopes that you didn’t have to face the horrid world of villains.

Touya admired you ever since you two were little. Your parents would often speak of how he’d cry whenever you two were separated. Of how he’d wail whenever you’d get burnt by your own quirk as if he was the one who was hurt.

As you grew up, he grew distant. Envious of your flames that were already so strong. Angry that you born several steps ahead of him regardless of being his twin.

Natsuo and Fuyumi bore the brunt of his complaints. His parents were too entranced by your being so who else did he have to talk to?

It all came to a climax when Shouto gained his quirk. You’d never forget the hope draining from your twin’s visage. The flames that surrounded the two of you when he dragged you out into the woods only to take an attempt at your life.

As darkness consumed your vision, you reach out to your brother’s face and choked out as the smoke covered the two of you.

“I will . . . always . . . love you.”

You awoke to your parents in tears, the news that your twin’s body was never found, and your belongings packed in several bags.

You were to study far away. Have a new start. Where you’d forget your brother.

Gotham.

It was a place known for its crime rate, but Enji’s close friend Bruce promised he’d take care of you while you’re here.

You were greeted by one of his sons, Tim. He was around Fuyumi’s age and was utterly fascinated by your powers.

Through him you were able to appreciate your flames a little more. It was hard not to get close to him. You attended classes together, ate together, played together. He even made you equipment and salves that would ease the burns.

It wasn’t long before you found out about his vigilante persona and thus Bruce’s. But for the sake of safety (your own and their’s) you decided to keep that fact to yourself.

Dick often came by once in a while. It was rare but his visits started to become the highlights of your stay in Gotham. He was fun and energetic. Tim and Bruce were great and all but they always had an air of seriousness that reminded you all too well of your family back in Japan.

He’d often sneak you out and teach you some acrobatic moves. Through process of searching good old google about the Robins, you figured out he was Nightwing after a short while.

Although you absolutely despised them now, you couldn’t deny them their credit for reigniting your passion for heroics.

You started training on your own. Control was something you had already practiced in the past. You knew how to stop the flames when it flared up too much. But you never really got to the point of using it for attacks and combat.

You didn’t really get that far. The most you could do without getting suspicious was to ask your father for a tutor in self defense while only adding some of your flames for the extra damage.

Not to mention the fact that a fire based vigilante would definitely raise flags for the family you’ve been living with.

So you started your “hero” life without using much of your flames until such a time that you were able to either go back to Japan or move out to another state.

That’s when you met Jason. You didn’t know much about him at first. Only that he killed a bunch of the thugs that you were trying to handle on your own.

Without him you’d probably have been dead several times by now.

Thus you took it upon yourself to help him in any way you can.

From being a hindrance you slowly started becoming an essential asset to Jason’s patrols. So much so that he often would blow up if you disappeared for a week only to apologize profusely and buy you pizza when he found out you were gone because of exams.

Jason also made you discover a very important part of your power. While your quirk didn’t rely on emotions to be strong within itself, emotions still played a huge part of it.

And as he slowly placed his lips upon yours, a wall of flame sets off.

You never returned to him after that day.

Around your early adulthood, Damian was taken into the household.

It wasn’t that long before you figured out he had no filter and a lot of ego to boot.

He reminded you a lot of a cat. Your parents would never let you adopt one out of fear for you being scratched, or worse a cat barbecue so you often projected that childhood desire of yours to him.

So while he’d hurt you both physically and emotionally, you in turn would return whatever he gave with love and headpats.

It annoyed him to no end. Who were you to treat him like a baby? If it weren’t for your flames he could probably have you on the floor in a minute tops.

But whenever you’d disappear he realizes how much he enjoys your presence.

He was there when you came back after your encounter with Jason. Your burnt and tattered clothes.

He saw the news. He knew that you’ve been going out to save civilians with one of his predecessors. He knew all about your past and your powers.

And he knew that from this day forth, you were never going to leave the manor ever again.

GENERAL BATFAM TAGLIST: @the-sander-fander

[soobuneary]

Love You Still - Choi Soobin x Reader

Warning: Recreational Drug Use, please be responsible!

Just a soft, chill evening with your boyfriend Soobin.

Word Count: 2,060

“Do you trust me?”

It seemed maybe a little manipulative, but you had to admit it. “Yes.”

Soobin smiled brightly, and he looked just like a rabbit. You could see his metaphorical ears stick up at your agreement. “Good, ‘cause this was your idea.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Still, I don’t know. What if I have a bad time?”

“I’ll be right here, and I’m experienced enough to help even under the influence.” He placed one hand on your knee. “Besides, edibles are much nicer, in my opinion.” The devil on your right shoulder said everything was fine as long as Soobin was here, but the angel on your left held a lot of fear and guilt. What if you get paranoid? What if you get sick? What if-

“Y/N? I can see your mind running laps. You don’t have to, there’s no pressure.”

You took a deep breath and awkwardly exhaled. “I want to! You enjoy this, so I want to try it too!”

He laughed at how worked up you appeared to be. You had only been dating for four months, and you had never seen Soobin high. The idea of how different he might be sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. Finally, he opened the pack of gummies and placed them gingerly on the living room table. He patted the cushion next to him, beckoning you to sit on the floor with him. You obliged and began to gather your courage.

“These are only 25mg a gummy, but I suggest starting with just one. It’ll take about 30 minutes to kick in, and then you can decide if you want another one.”

“How many are you taking?”

“Probably three, but I have a much higher tolerance. This is your first time, so it’s best to start small.” He handed you a gummy, and your insides felt like jelly. Soobin could sense your anxiety and reminded you, “There’s absolutely no pressure, Y/N. We can do something else.”

You put the gummy in your mouth and began to chew. It tasted like strawberry at first, but then it took on a weird and unpleasant taste. It must have shown on your face because he giggled at you. You watched him take three, just as he had said. “What now?”

“We can do whatever you want,” he said. “Watch a movie, play video games, or just talk.”

“We can talk.”

He connected his phone to his speaker on the table and then stood. Yoko Ono by Mob Rich began to play softly. Was this a cheeky attempt at setting the mood? You didn’t care, if anything, it just made him seem more endearing. He offered his hand. You took it, and he led you to the couch.

And that’s where the two of you laid in silence for a while, just listening to music. Your head was on his chest, and his arms wrapped around you tightly. Soobin’s heartbeat seemed dangerously slow, but you figured if you mentioned it, he would laugh at you. Not maliciously, of course. You had to admit that he was the nicest guy you had ever dated. At first, the lure of a bad boy who frequents parties and smokes was incredibly hot. After getting to know him, you realized he was quite the opposite. Soobin was a perfect gentleman who was soft-spoken and gentle. He fed stray cats and helped old ladies carry their groceries. He wore sweaters and his heart on his sleeve. His dimples popped out whenever he laughed, which was often. He had the most gentle laugh and warm heart.

You were falling for him fast.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who wanted to talk.”

It was your turn to laugh at him. “You can also start a conversation.”

“Are you feeling okay? It’s been around 30 minutes.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel any different. Should I take another one?”

He shook his head. “Give it a little bit more time.”

You had said you felt fine, but just then, you felt a weird tingling in your mouth. The tingle seemed to travel all around your face and eventually slowly trickled down your body. Your whole body felt like it had fallen asleep, but it wasn’t a normal, painful numb. It felt as if your bones were melting and your skin was vibrating. “My body is weird.”

“It’s weird?”

“It feels weird.”

You looked up at him. His eyes were slightly squinted, and his lazy smile made him look so relaxed. Was his body also feeling like yours? His lips parted, and you wondered if you’d ever seen something so pretty. “It’s okay, that’s normal, Y/N.”

“It doesn’t feel normal. It feels weird.”

Suddenly his face seemed serious; he was unable to hide his concern. “Do you feel okay?”

You felt a smile stretch on your face, but it felt like your mouth did it on its own. The loss of control wasn’t unwelcome. You weren’t sure if you’d ever felt more relaxed. “Better than okay, I think.”

A song you knew and loved came on, so you put your head back on his chest and simply hummed along. The lack of conversation wasn’t awkward. Your bodies seemed to mesh together, and you didn’t know where yours ended and his began. It was like sinking into water but floating at the same time. The hum of your lips tickled. Actually, all of your body felt as if invisible fingers were tickling you. Soft giggles escaped your lips.

“What’s funny, love?”

You gasped and pulled your upper body away from him. You rested your weight on your palms, but you were wobbly. “Love? Did you say love?”

It was faint, but you could see it. He blushed. “It’s-”

“It’s okay. I’m teasing you. I love you, Soobin.”

He placed his large palms on your cheeks. His lips pursed, and you assumed it was for a kiss. You closed your eyes and leaned in, but instead, one long finger met your mouth. “You’re high, Y/N.”

You huffed and tried to stand up, but his hands caught your elbows. “I still mean it.”

He smirked, “Then tell me again tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“I am sober!” Your cry came out awkwardly as your tongue suddenly felt too big for your mouth. And dry. So fucking dry, ugh-

Soobin seemed to read your mind. He slid out from under you and helped you get back on the couch. “I’ll get us some water.”

He left you on the couch to get two water bottles. The cushion underneath you seemed to move up toward you, and it tickled so much. You couldn’t stop the laughter spilling out of your mouth. It was honestly a little painful. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “Soobin!”

“What is it?” He placed the water on the table and bent down in front of the couch. “Are you still feeling okay?”

“Am I gonna die?”

He let out a small huff of a laugh before he could stop himself. “No, Y/N, you’re not going to die.”

“It feels so good it hurts. It feels like the couch is tickling me.”

“The couch is tickling you? Should I have a word with the couch?”

That made you laugh even more. Talking to a couch? Who did he think he was fooling, couches can’t talk! But apparently, they can tickle. “I think the couch feels too much. I’m gonna sit on the floor.”

You did just as you said, and he sat on the floor next to you. “Y/N, do you want to watch TV? Sometimes when I feel too much, videos take my mind off of it.”

That sounded nice because your body felt as if it were blending in with the floor. Every molecule of your skin was vibrating with an uncomfortable intensity. It didn’t tickle anymore, but it was too much. You nodded, “Yeah, let's watch something.” He reached across the coffee table for the remote, his arm reaching across your body in the process. You could feel the individual heat waves radiating from his hoodie sleeve. He seemed to move in slow motion. Actually, everything was. What time was it? You looked at your phone where it sat on the table in front of you, 10:53. Wasn’t it 10, like, three hours ago? It was frustrating you even more. Why was time moving so slowly? Was everything okay?

Soobin, too busy scrolling through different apps on the smart TV, didn’t notice your inner panic. Instead, he settled on YouTube and said, “Music videos can be fun. Especially with the lights off, it makes you feel like you’re in it.” He finally looked over at you because of your lack of response. Confusion painted your face, so he wrapped an arm around you. “Y/N, are you feeling alright?”

You took a sip of water, and nodded again. “I think so. I’m just feeling irritated.”

“Irritated?”

“There’s a lot going on I just don’t understand. At first, it was nice, but now I’m just overwhelmed I think.”

He used his other arm to hug you completely. “Do you want to go to sleep? It’ll wear off by the time you wake up, and I bet you’ll sleep really good.”

“No, I want to keep hanging out. I think I’ll feel better if I focus on something.” Why did you suddenly start feeling better? It probably had to do with your focus on his long arms wrapped around you so securely. You felt safe in his embrace, and you didn’t want him to let go.

So when he did to grab the remote again you groaned. He laughed, “I’ll hug you again, honey. Just let me put something on.”

Your blush felt much hotter than it ever had before, but you didn’t mind it. You decided you liked that nickname, “Honey.”

“Yes, honey, because you’re so sweet.”

You giggled for what was probably the hundredth time that night, the gummies were working overtime. Soobin had put on a music video for a song you didn’t know, but the colors were bright and the music itself was… what was it? “Vibe-y?”

He put the remote down and looked at you, “What’s vibe-y? The song?”

“Yeah, it’s chill.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you once again. “I’m glad, it’ll help mellow you out.”

The warmth from his hold made you feel beyond safe. You could feel yourself sinking into deep relaxation. “I think I know something that’ll mellow me out more.”

“And what’s that?”

You held out one finger. “Just one.”

“Just one what?”

“Kiss me.”

He smiled, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m more than sure.”

His lips parted and his face slowly crept toward yours. His pretty eyelashes seemed to flutter as he shut his eyes, and if you hadn’t wanted him so badly you wouldn’t have kissed him. You would’ve just kept gazing upon who must’ve been the most attractive person you’d ever seen.

But you did want him, and you knew that this kiss was going to be beyond anything you’d ever felt before. So you met his lips with your own, and it wasn’t your first kiss, but it felt brand new. What did it feel like? Pillows, clouds, anything soft. He used the softest force, like the force a butterfly uses to flap its delicate wings. It tickled, but not a tickle that causes laughter. A tickle that made your joints feel like jelly. His hands left your sides to tangle his fingers in your hair. You deepened the kiss with your tongue, and he groaned lightly. You kissed him as if you’d never kiss him again.

And when you both needed to breathe you slowly pulled apart. “That was…”

He laughed his pretty laugh. “Was what?”

“I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

He kissed you again, this time just a chaste kiss before he stood. He pulled you onto the couch with him, and after a few more kisses, the two of you drifted to sleep. And he was right, it was the best sleep you ever had.

When you woke up the next morning Soobin was already awake. He looked down at where your head rested on his chest. “Good morning, Y/N.”

“I’m sober now.”

“Yeah?”

“And I love you still.”

[nnaminxz]

“𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝕲𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖘 𝕯𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝕮𝖗𝖞“

↳ 𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔲 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔬

⤑ 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut & angst

⤑ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: if the saying is “misery loves company” why isn’t Suguru happy right now?

⤑ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰: Gojo Satoru slander I’m sorry but I had too, I love him very much tho, sad feelings, sad reader, suguru is kind of ass too, maybe a lil ooc but it’s fanfic so don’t attack me, vaginal sex, riding, the ending may be dumb but it’s whatever, minors dni

⤑ 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: I wrote this for an another fandom a WHILE ago and always wanted to redo it so I thought why not redo it for my first jjk fic. I hope you guys enjoy this is my first time posting for this fandom so I’m vv nervous/excited. Pls be kind

Suguru always thought this would make him happy.

Seeing you around campus with Satoru made him angry enough, so he just knew that when the inevitable happened and Satoru started acting like well—Satoru again the sight was guaranteed to bring much happiness to his heart.

He knew it was sick, that he wanted to see whatever you and Satoru had going on fail but Suguru couldn't help it.

None of it mattered though because it didn’t happen.

Suguru sat in the same place for two hours watching the two of you—waiting for the feeling of bitter happiness to fill his bones but it never came.

In fact, it was the exact opposite.

Watching you fight to get Satoru’s attention made him sad. Seeing how no matter what you did he would rather pay more attention to everyone else made Suguru angry. And watching you finally leave the room and the other boy not even bat an eye made him furious.

If he was truly surprised or even thought the other boy would care, Suguru would’ve went over to him and said something but it wasn’t worth it. Satoru was just like him.

An idiot.

A dumbass.

They couldn’t tell when they had a good thing even if it’d slapped them across the face.

“Where you going?” Haibara questions as Suguru stands to his feet.

“Need a smoke,”

“Ah,” The other boy nodded his head. “Are you having fun?”

Suguru decides to lie again. The happiness on his friends face to pure to ruin with his sour mood.

“I told you coming out tonight would be a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Suguru fakes a grin. “I’ll be back.” He took the pack of cigarettes out his pocket waving them before walking away.

Suguru easily maneuvers his way through the thick crowd until he was standing on the back porch. The screen door shut with a thud causing you to swiftly snap around. There was a hopeful and expectant look on your face but when you saw it was him all that fell as you turned back around.

“Well, hello to you too,” Suguru jokes trying to hide the actual physical pain he was feeling in his heart.

That used to be him you were so eager to see.

“What do you want?” You huffed softly.

“Needed a smoke.”

The way you turned to look at him with such concern almost made Suguru laugh. Here you were angry at him, going through your own shit, and still somehow harbored enough care to be concerned with his health.

“I though you quit?”

Suguru plops down next to you pulling the carton out his pocket flipping the cap open. “I did.” He says showing you the empty pack..

“You carry around an empty pack?”

“It’s a good way for me to make an exit,”

You left out a long sigh. “I looked that pitiful huh?”

“You don’t look pitiful. He just looks stupid.”

Though you didn’t say anything back you didn’t need to for Suguru to already know what you were thinking. He knew you like the back of his hand and no doubt you were beating yourself up, angry with yourself when in reality you should’ve been focused on the one who deserved it.

“I’m so stupid,” You whisper and its so low that it Suguru wasn’t already so hyper-focused on your very existence he would’ve probably missed it.

“No, you’re not.”

“You told me he was like this.”

“People told you about me and you still gave me a chance,”

“So I am stupid.”

“You’re trusting,” Suguru counters. “You give people the benefit of the doubt.”

“why is it that trusting people always end up looking stupid?”

“because others take advantage of it.”

Something he knew all to well.

You both fall silent again. The only noise filling the space are the sounds of nature and the muffled thumping music that escaped the noisy house. Suguru looks over at you wishing there was something he could to do. Something he could say. Seeing you like this hurt him.

He hated seeing you cry.

He felt like dying when you were upset.

But it also hurt to see you happy so Suguru wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.

All this shit was so weird. An uncharted territory before you came along.

Every time the screen door would creak open you’d twist around to see if it was him and every time you ended up turning back around in disappointment. As your disappointment grew, so did Suguru’s anger.

You only deserved the best things in life. None of this push and pull, ‘I’m here but around others I’m not’ bullshit.

Suguru was such a hypocrite.

Here he was furious with Satoru when he used to just as much of an asshole to you as well. He too would push and pull right until he pushed you away completely.

“I’m sorry,” He quietly apologizes. If he’d just gotten his act together sooner there would be no you and Satoru. You wouldn’t be sad and he would still have you.

You shake your head softly shushing him. “Not right now please,” You say. “Can you take me home? I just really want to go back home.”

Without saying anything else Suguru nodded. As both of  you were walking to his car you passed a big window. Sadly it was a clear shot to Satoru who now had another girl seated next to him in your place.

Not only had he not noticed your absence but that easily he’d replaced you.

“He’s such a fucking ass.”

“Yeah,” You agree. “Let’s just go,”

Suguru had evert urge to go in there and go off but when he looked back over you were already halfway to his car so he kept it moving. Satoru wasn’t worth it anyway. He was just another dick who thought way too much of himself.

Satoru didn’t deserve you.

Neither did Suguru.

One in the car Suguru sent Haibara a quick message saying he was going home before shifting the car into gear.

As expected the drive was silent. There wasn’t much to say. As much as Suguru wanted to comfort you he didn’t know what to do even if he did you probably wouldn’t want to hear it from him. Why would you?

Suguru knew every route to and from your apartment but decided to take the longest one. If you noticed you didn’t say anything. All you did was keep quiet as you looked out the window.

You stayed that way until he pulled up to you complex. Before getting out of the car you whisper as soft thank you and force a smile.

“yeah, no problem,” Suguru murmurs.

He’s about to pull away when out the corner of his eye he spots your small tube of lip gloss sitting in his cup holder. You had a million of them and even thought you probably wouldn’t even realize this one was missing Suguru still found himself on a journey to your front door.

Who know this could’ve been your favorite one.

The one in the pink tube was your favorite actually.

But Suguru already knew that.

“You left this,” Suguru says once you open the door.

“Thanks,” You mutter grabbing it from his hand. “I have a million in this flavor.”

“I know.”

For the first time tonight a genuine smile filled your lips. It was small and not the one he was used to seeing but for right now it would do. It was better than nothing.

Though your eyes were sad and bloodshot you were still as beautiful as ever to him.

“Please don’t cry over him. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“I just want something real,” You say in a small voice your arms wrapping around your body.

“What we had was real.”

“You were just like him.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Suguru adds, his voice wavering as he tries to get out the words. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” you say this time.

Suguru is walking away when you call out his name. As soon as he turns back around your lips are on his. He’s shocked for a moment, standing there with wide eyes, but quickly he fall back into your old routine. His heart is pounding so hard against his chest and Suguru wonder if you could feel it as well.

With every kiss he pulls you closer to him. It’s been months since he’d last had you this close and Suguru didn’t want it to end any time soon. He missed this, the soft breaths that escape you, the fruity taste of your lip gloss, the way your hands cradle his face.

Slowly your hands roam from his face to his jacket and then finally when they land on his belt Suguru forces himself to pull away.

Suguru lets out a sigh resting his forehead against yours. “We can’t.” He mutters.

He wanted you but not this way. Not when you were like this.

“Why?”

“You’re….” his voice trails off.

“I’m sober,”

“You’re sad.” He counters.

You give him a shrug. “ I want this. I need this.”

Suguru knows what this was. A rebound fuck. Simply a way for you to get back at Satoru in your mind but couldn’t bring himself to care as he kisses you again. He knows this was going to hurt in the morning but he’d deal with that when it came.

A satisfied moan leaves your lips. “Please,” You beg and Suguru nods, not even needing to know what exactly you were asking for because he already was prepared to give you everything.

Reaching behind him Suguru pushed the front door closed. “Where?” Without saying anything you guided him both over to the couch lightly pushing him down before climbing on top.

You pulled off your dress and without a second thought, Suguru hands find their way to your breast, lifting the mounds out of the cups. His tongue gently swipes over both nipples before picking one to suck on while he twisted the other between his fingers.

“Fuck,” Soft moans escape your plump lips as you arch further into him. “It’s always about him.”

Suguru pulls away for a brief moment and shushes you before taking in the other nipple. He didn’t want to hear about you and Satoru. The thoughts tortured him enough. 

It did bring him a sick satisfaction to know that Satoru was a lazy lover.

“M’sorry,”

“Don’t be. This is just about us right now.”

You nod, pressing your fingers underneath Suguru’s chin as lift up his head so you could kiss him again. Suguru’s hands were everywhere. From your ass to your stomach, your thighs, he couldn’t get enough.

“Touch me,” You command.

Suguru happily listens, his fingers easily finding their way into your panties. You were already so wet. The juices soaking him with just a few movements. His fingers dances across your clit pulling airy groans from your mouth. To him you look so beautiful, your head tossed back, eyes fluttering, as your hips rocks into his fingers.

“Need you in me.”

“Wanna taste you.”

You shake your head, big glossy needy eyes focused on him. “Next time maybe.”

His heart jumps at the words ‘next time’. Suguru really hopes there is a next time. Not even for the sex. He just wanted you.

You lift up allowing Suguru the room to pull his pants down. After pulling your own panties to the side you grab his cock and align it before sinking down.

Groans leave both of your mouths and before Suguru can even collect his thoughts you began to bounce up and down. Suguru isn’t even sure were to focus. Your bouncing breast, the perfect contortions of your face, or the lewd scene between your legs.

He leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth again. You felt so good. So wet. So warm. The tight grip on his hair only sending more pleasure through his body while you alternate between bouncing and grinding. Your eyes were closed and you weren’t focused on anything but yourself.

You were using him but none of that mattered.

“Suguru,” you whine, finally looking at him. “feels so good. It feels so good.”

“Only ever want to make you feel good y/n,”

 Suguru says it so quietly that he wasn’t even sure you’d heard or if you did you’d understood what exactly he meant but when your eyes began to water again Suguru knew you had.

You hide your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. When your hips began to falter in pace Suguru knows your close. Once your pussy tightens and your legs begin to shake, Suguru lets himself fall apart too.

You both stay like that. Breathing labored wrapped in each other's arms not saying anything. You stay that way until he hears your little sniffles and feels the tears falling onto his shoulder.

“Don’t cry. Pretty girls don’t cry.”

“Then stop making me.”

[souperbloom]

Hiiii! I had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. After their performance since their adrenaline is so high they get high and have high sex 🤭

fucking obsessed with this one. had a blast writing it too. soup nation hath spoken, so sativa you shall receive (sorry it took so long)

enjoy <3

————————

sativa. [A.I.]

🍃 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after the curtains close, you and Ashton let out that post-show adrenaline the best way you both know how.

a/n: i’m picturing black hair ash for this, but feel free to picture any era you’d like!

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, weed/smoking, strong language, pet names, oral/faceriding(f!receiving), switch!ash :3

WORDCOUNT: 6.1k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Tonight was a night like no other. You and your band had just bid adieu to yet another incredible crowd, the lot of you filled with so much energy that it left you feeling as though you were about to burst.

"…Fuck yes, dude!"

"Who has my bag?!"

"Your shoe’s untied, mate! Slow down!"

You and your bandmates barreled through the parking lot of The Kia Forum, buzzed out completely on vibes. You had been running so fast, and for so long, that you had completely forgotten what you were running for.

It wasn’t much longer than a few minutes before you remembered, and reached, your destination— the tour bus, which was parked all the way at the back entrance of the arena. Each of you stopped accordingly, catching your breath.

"Why did we even start running?" Your bassist, Calum, has always had a gripe with running.

"Who fuckin’ cares?! That shit was awesome!" Michael blows out a breath, resting his hands on his knees.

"I like running… but not in these shoes… Dear God—" Luke had found himself on the ground, letting out a long, and loud groan.

"I could go again. Fuck it! Who wants to race me?" Your boyfriend’s voice pipes up from behind you. You whip your head around to see him jogging in place with a smile.

You let out a giggle, still breathless from the strides you had taken to keep up with his pace on your initial run into the parking lot.

"Nobody’s racing anybody, Ash," Calum huffs, stretching his legs, "We’ve gotta pack up our shit on time before they leave us here like last time."

Ashton blows a raspberry, "You’re no fun."

"I’ll race you," you shrug to him, still completely clouded with adrenaline. The running barely made a dent in the energy that was coursing through your veins.

He wraps a broad arm around your shoulder, hugging you into his side.

"You say that now, baby— but the last time I beat you in a race, you didn’t talk to me for like, a week."

"Hey," you scoff, "I had good reason! You teased me about it every time I opened my fuckin’ mouth!"

"She’s right, Ash," Luke finally pipes up from his resting place on the concrete, "you bullied the shit out of her."

"You clearly just don’t understand my comedic repertoire."

Michael and Calum laugh, each patting Ashton on the back as they walk by to step onto the tour bus. You glance over at Ash, who had been staring at Luke on the ground.

"You alright, Lu?" You ask, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp.

"Yeah, yeah— I’m fine. Just— give me a second." He holds his hand up in the air, almost surrendering to the cold, hard ground.

"C’mon, mate. Let’s get you on this bus. It seems like Y/N is the only one matching my energy tonight."

Ashton takes Luke’s hand, pulling him up by his torso. You watch in awe at how effortlessly your boyfriend hoists him up, the butterflies in your stomach still floating around just as they did when you first got together with him.

"Okay, I’m good now." Luke blows out a breath, adjusting his heels in his boots.

Ashton, Luke, and yourself all make your way back onto the tour bus, each with your own respective bags and belongings. By the time you had stepped on, Michael and Calum had already found their seats on one of the couches. They were browsing their phones, occasionally showing each other something and giggling at the screen.

"Got room for one more?" Luke asks, moving Calum’s spread out legs to make a seat for himself.

"There’s a whole ‘nother couch, mate," Calum huffs, so entranced by his phone that he hadn’t even looked up.

You and Ashton had made your way to the other couch in question. Your eyes find Luke’s, his find Ashton, as you each toss each other a knowing glance.

"Nah, I think I’m alright sitting here. Why, you don’t want my company?"

As the other three bicker, you and your boyfriend find a comfortable position on the couch. Your head is resting on his shoulder, his arm extended over the top of the couch and resting along the back of it. He pulls out his phone to check the time.

"It’s half past eleven and I’m fuckin’ wired." Ashton mumbles. You feel his body vibrate with the words he speaks as you rest your head onto him.

"Me too," you admit, your leg starting a cadence of bobbing up and down, "I’d usually be down for the count by now."

"Y’think it’s the adrenaline rush? I’m not sure why but— I feel like I could scale a goddamn mountain right now."

You shrug, trying to close your eyes as the bus starts to move, "Could be. But— it’s hard to believe we’re the only ones feeling it."

Ashton’s hand was gently lingering around the nape of your neck. He then started to toy with your hair, resting his head on top of yours.

Your leg had continued to bounce, still feeling as if you were about to pop off into the sky like a fucking bottle rocket.

It was only about a 20 minute drive from the venue back to the hotel, but the anticipation of getting there was absolutely killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand sitting quietly, especially now that Ashton’s hand had traveled to your shoulder.

He twists his head, planting a kiss on your temple before whispering in your ear.

"Why’s your leg doing that?"

"Dunno’. Just energized, I guess."

Your boyfriend nods in understanding. "Isn’t being on this bus right now just the worst?"

"Don’t remind me," you say, as Ashton is removing his arm from the back of the couch.

He puts his arm back at his side, yet his hand finds your leg like a magnet. His fingertips creep towards your inner thigh, your leg still bouncing impatiently.

"Really wish we were back at the hotel…" He then dips down slowly to be level with your ear.

"…’Wanna put all this energy to good use, no?"

His words send a shock wave down your spine, similar to the ones that had been coursing through you all night long. You knew exactly where his head was at, but whether or not you wanted to acknowledge it while the rest of the band was three feet away from you was a battle you did not want to fight right now.

"Ash, knock it off," you whisper sternly, pressing your hand down on his in order to keep it from inching any closer to its’ destination.

"They’re not even paying attention. Look at ‘em." He gestures towards the boys on the couch, all either buried in their phones, or passed the fuck out.

"Still— If they saw anything I’d fucking kill myself."

Ashton’s tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, now looking at you as if you were a dessert waiting to be devoured. You roll your eyes, trying your best to seem unbothered by his gaze.

"Fine."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Ashton would occasionally squeeze your thigh, or his knee would knock against yours when Calum let out a particularly loud snore. You had finally made it back to your hotel, and were filing out one by one from the tour bus

"It’s amazing how you fast you can fall asleep," You hear Michael poke fun at Cal, who had been yawning and stretching as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep.

"The art of the power nap, my friend."

"Even after all these years, you still snore like an animal," you giggle, reminiscing on the many nights you’d spent on the road together.

As Calum opens his mouth to retaliate, Luke is stepping out of the tour bus and joining the conversation.

"Everyone has their shit, right?" he asks, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"Yup."

"Mhmm."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now get out of my sight. All of you. Don’t wanna see your faces ‘till tomorrow morning a nine." Luke teases, wagging his finger at the rest of you.

You each gave hugs and said your goodnights, all while Ashton was glued to your hip. His body radiated off an aura that you couldn’t quite put your finger on— you didn’t know if it was just the energy, or the fact that the tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a pair of scissors.

But you knew full and well that you were feeling it too.

"That was the longest bus ride of my fuckin’ life," Ashton huffs, fumbling in his pants pocket for the keycard to your suite.

"I know— I feel like I should be tired," you shrug, "I probably won’t be able to sleep for a while though."

As Ashton pushes open the door to your shared hotel room, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. You blush, adjusting your bag strap and trying not to make too much of a face.

"We should stay up all night."

"Do you really think that’s the best idea?" Now, his eyes were wide and glassy. Your boyfriend’s energy had skyrocketed at an alarmingly fast rate.

"No, not at all. But— I think it would be fun, don’t you?"

The thought of staying up all night made you tired in itself, but you couldn’t push past the adrenaline still rolling through your veins.

You think for a moment, mulling over the pros and cons.

It’s already after midnight. Call time for tomorrow was at 9am. What’s 8 and a half more hours gonna change?

"It would be fun… But what would we do for that long?" You drop your bags on the carpet with a sigh.

"I could think of a thing or two," says Ashton, wiggling his eyebrows. He rifles through his bag on the floor for a moment, while you flop down on the king sized mattress.

"Like what? ‘Cause I’m not about to just sit here and stare at you."

"I don’t see a problem with looking at your gorgeous face for eight hours straight," Ashton chuckles, "but that wouldn’t be realistic…"

He digs down into one of the pockets of his backpack, pulling out a small rolling tray, a pack of papers, and a jar of bud.

"…So how about I roll up and we see where it takes us?"

You can’t help but bite your lip at the thought of Ashton rolling up for you. He always gave you the princess treatment when it came to smoking, and tonight was no different.

"I’m down for that." You hum, shifting yourself up on the bed and resting your arms on the pillows.

"Perfect. It’s settled then."

You watch with patient eyes as your boyfriend stands with his belongings. A rolling tray, papers, and a grinder in one hand, the bud, and a pack of filters in the other. His gaze drops down your body, landing on your torso.

Without a word, he finds his way onto the bed on his knees, a sly smile sprawling across his cheeks as he moves around you slowly.

"Whatcha’ doin’, baby?" You ask innocently.

"Nothin’."

His timid reply made your stomach flip, not long before he’s reaching his leg over your body to straddle you. He rests himself gently onto your thighs, putting his rolling supplies down at your side.

"Gonna roll up now, mkay?" He finds your approval with his eyes, as he slowly starts to dip his body down to lay flat onto you. Confused, you lift your brow, but you’re immediately shut up when he starts tugging at the hemline of your shirt.

"Ash, what—"

"Shhhh," he whispers, before pulling up the spandex material of your stage shirt and leaving a gentle kiss on your belly.

Your heart flutters at his simple gesture, just watching in awe as he starts to lay out his rolling supplies on your stomach. You were still very confused, yet you didn’t have the heart to question him.

Now with a rolling tray, papers, and a grinder all splayed across your body, Ashton starts his routine. He takes out a nug from the jar, popping it into the grinder and using his elbows to keep himself hovered over your body.

"What am I, a table?" You giggle, the movement of your stomach causing the rolling tray and other things to move around.

"Your giggling is fuckin’ up my work station, baby. Try to hold still f’me."

You clamp your giggly mouth shut with a straight face, still oddly amused by this strange scenario. Ashton had never used you as a rolling tray before, so pardon you for seeming weird about it.

Once he was done grinding up the weed, he grabbed a filter, all while balancing himself over your body. He made his next moves tediously, laying out a paper flat onto his tray and sprinkling the plant onto it.

Your first instinct was to hold your breath, but something about his face of concentration was making you want to bust out laughing. He’d occasionally glance up at you, those green, honeypot eyes tossing you warning stares.

"Almost done—" He says, now folding up the corners of the paper and actually starting to roll it.

What you loved most about watching Ashton roll was the pure concentration that overcame him, every single time. His eyes would go narrow, his tongue poking out slightly between his lips. It took everything inside of you not to sit up and start showering his face in kisses, but you held back.

For the sake of the joint.

"She’s a beauty," you say, watching Ashton tongue the rolling paper and leaving you with nothing but intrusive, sinful thoughts.

"Mhmmm," Ashton hums in return, before giving the paper one more lick. He twists up the end, finally getting to admire his handiwork.

"Your belly makes one hell of a rolling tray, baby— might have to try rolling up your tits next."

"Yeah, right. Good luck with that one."

You both laugh as Ashton starts to remove his supplies off of you, haphazardly tossing them to the side.

He then pops the joint into the corner of his mouth, and uses his fists to crawl up to you. He stops at eye level, fully straddling you with the jay between his lips and a devilish gleam in his eye.

"What are you looking at?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"You." He mumbles through the side of his mouth, the joint stuck to his bottom lip,

"Yeah, no shit," you laugh, "But why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like there’s something on your mind."

He cocks his head, "Well, there is this one thing…"

Feeling daring, you pluck the joint from between his lips, taking it between your fingers.

"If ya’ tell me what it is, I’ll let you take the first hit."

"Psh," he scoffs, "like I wasn’t gonna do that anyway."

A bout of confidence rolls down your body, absolutely entranced by your boyfriend’s floppy black curls. He looked absolutely ravishing. The gaze in his eye flicking from innocent to lust fueled, just with a blink.

And if there’s one thing you always knew, it was exactly what he wanted.

"You fuckin’ wish… Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy."

Your nickname for him made him close his eyes, taking in a deep breath as you ran the back of your hand along his cheekbone.

The joint was still dangling between your fingertips, but you were debating putting it down after the way he had sighed.

"You always know how to get me, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, and sultry.

"Contrary to popular belief, Ash, I know a lot about you. Enough to know what you’re thinking about."

"You’re such a fuckin’ tease," he grumbles.

"Hey, you started it. Just trying to match that energy from before, y’know?"

"Trust me, it’s still here, darlin’. It never left."

Your mouth pulls to the side, watching his eyes flick between your lips and your chest.

"Oh, really?… You catch your bottom lip with your teeth.

"…Prove it."

In a flash, Ashton is flipping you over, bringing your hips to straddle his waist with your calves digging deeply into the hotel mattress. The action practically knocks the wind out of you, all with the joint still dangling between your fingertips. But you used Ashton’s broad chest as leverage for your palms, so you didn’t fall.

"I’ve got the time to prove it… and a lighter."

Ashton reaches over to the bedside table, practically knocking everything off of it as he reaches for his black Zippo. It was like a piece of him— never leaving his sight for more than a few minutes.

And on the rare occasion in which it wasn’t on him, it could be found right in your back pocket.

"Well then, if you insist— light me up, baby."

You place the joint between your lips, making a sly effort to dig your hips downward and grind into his crotch. A shaky hand approaches you, the heart shaped ink on his wrist reaching out to you with a burning flame.

He toasts the end of the joint as you inhale, the crackling, earthy feeling funneling down your throat while you take the first pull. Those golden fern eyes surveyed your every move; from the inhale, to the exhale.

"Y’look so pretty smokin’ my weed."

"Do I?" You hum, now feeling his hands as they palm at your thighs.

"Mhm."

Your cheeks flush pink, going in for another hit of the joint as Ashton just watches you; like he was in some sort of trance.

But as the smoke travelled down into your lungs and left you feeling a bit fuzzy, something inside of you perks up. A yearning to be in control; to tell Ashton whatever perfectly fucked up words were left in that adrenaline-doused brain of yours.

"You look even prettier under me."

His eyes flutter closed, and you’re left with a cheeky, prideful smile.

You loved getting under Ashton’s skin, more than anything. Calling him pretty, pretty boy; it was like a drug to you. You craved the rush that came with the change in his demeanor. It was something he tried to deny enjoying—

Yet he always came back for more.

Without another word, you pass the joint to him, placing it between his plump lips and allowing him to take his first pull. He sighs to himself, still clawing at your pants like he would strike gold by digging his fingers into them.

"Fuck— that’s great."

"Isn’t it? She's a beauty."

"Mhmm… tastes nice."

The residual smoke clouds the air above you, as you continue to pass the joint back and forth between your lips and his.

It wasn’t long before you started feeling high; and the same went for Ashton. You shared glances through heavy, bloodshot eyes, completely entranced by one another.

"Told you this was a good way to pass time," says Ashton, whose hands had become a bit more fidgety down at your sides.

The fog in your mind was clouding your senses. It had come to a point where you felt like your voice wasn’t working— you’d open your mouth, but nothing would come out. Just a puff of air, or a soft little whimper as Ashton’s hands danced around your calves.

"Baby?" He asks you, shifting his hips beneath you with a twinkle in his eye, "You okay?"

You wanted to reply, but you were too mellowed out to even utter a word. Shooting him a soft smile, you toss your head back, and run your hands down your chest.

"I’ll take that as a yes."

Ashton was an avid smoker. You, not so much. But on the off chance he was willing to roll and smoke you up, it was very rarely that you’d say no. Ash loved to smoke with you, you loved to smoke with Ash.

It was a match made in heaven.

"Whatdaya’ think the guys are doing right now?" Ashton always blurts whatever the fuck is on his mind. High, or not.

"Mmmh, I’m not sure… Probably sleeping." It took you a minute to gain the moisture back in your throat in order to reply.

"Fuckin’ losers. They don’t know what they’re missing. I wonder if any of ‘em are staying up late…"

You can’t help but let a dreamy sigh fall past your lips, before leaning over to put out the joint over your shared bedside ashtray.

"I don’t know much about them, but I know about me n’ you."

While Ashton’s hands are dead-bolted to your waist, yours roam his torso, toying with the black button-down he had slipped on after leaving stage. You fumble with the buttons, mess with the collar, all with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

"Can I help you?" Ashton sighs, rather sarcastically, starting his own trail of greedy fingertips.

"You know what I want."

"I'm not sure I do, my girl. Need you to be more specific..."

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," your hands find the first button of his shirt, "I want you."

It isn't long before all of Ashton's buttons are undone and your lips are leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, making headway towards the buckle of his jeans. He whines beneath you, hands wandering along the motions of you as you shift down his body.

"Fuck me, you're an angel," he sighs dreamily, but you just smile between kisses, already feeling the wetness pooling in your lower half.

"Am I?"

"Mhmm, heaven told me so."

With his words, you shoot up to his eye level, giving him a good stare down before slamming your lips onto his. He melts into the kiss, as do you, still writhing beneath you for any inch of release.

His tongue explores your mouth, searching for something sweeter than the feeling of his own stoned mind. Your hands caress his face; his cheeks feeling much softer than usual.

"Oh, Ashton—" You whine, not long before his teeth are sinking viciously into your bottom lip.

A hiss falls past your teeth, his blistered palms gripping your exposed sides for dear life and pushing you down onto his growing erection.

His direction of kisses starts to lead towards your jaw— then your neck, then your chest.

"Want me that badly, hmm?" You coo to him, somewhat condescendingly. All he can do is hum beneath you, absolutely mesmerized by the taste of your skin.

"You know I fuckin' do."

As he works his way back up your throat, he leaves hickies in his trails. Also known as, a story to tell the band tomorrow.

"Hey, Dracula— knock it off. We've got a show tomorrow." You giggle, as Ashton pops his head up with wide eyes. He still looks entranced by you. Could’ve been the weed, but you swore you could see little cartoon hearts bursting within his irises.

"You’re right, you’re right—"

Ashton begins to toy with the hemline of your skirt, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he practically undresses you with his eyes.

"Want this off?" You ask, motioning towards the article of clothing in question.

He thinks for a moment, rolling his mouth inward on itself and seemingly picturing the whole ordeal before it’s even began.

"Nuh uh. Keep it on— I like it."

"Can’t really argue with that," You shrug casually, as if being high and now horny wasn’t already causing the both of you enough grief.

Ashton clears his throat, grabbing your attention away from his wandering fingertips.

"Hey, wanna try somethin’?" he mumbles, his tone a bit whiny. Needy.

"Hm?"

"Want you to ride my face."

Your eyes widen, face flushing of color as your mindless hip rocking comes to a slow. You can barely compute what he had just asked of you, let alone find enough saliva in your throat to reply.

"Wh—"

"You don’t have to— If ya don’t wanna. Just thought it’d be fun, y’know, since we’re lookin’ for ways to pass time."

You chuckle lowly, regaining your confidence as you watch his eyes shimmer just from looking at you.

"Baby, I don’t think that’d pass much time," you sigh, stomach lurching at merely the thought of it.

A smile spreads across Ashton’s cheeks, "Why not? Don’t want me to tease you with my tongue ‘till you can’t take it anymore? I’d say I could get a good thirty minutes out of that."

"That— that’s unfair!" You screech, the butterflies in your stomach dancing along and making you shiver.

"Don’t think so. Especially since you hogged the joint. Smoked all my fuckin’ weed. I’d say we’re equal."

"Kiss my ass, Irwin." you bite back.

"God, I’d love to."

You and Ash have tried a lot of things as a couple, but this opened a completely new door. At this rate, as late as it was, you were willing to do just about anything to get your hands on your pretty boy.

"Y’know what? Fine… Let’s fuckin’ do it."

You finally give him the reply he’d been waiting for. His eyes practically shoot out of his head when he hears it.

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

Ashton tosses his head back into the plush pillows, running his hands up your waist and finding himself beneath your spandex shirt, "Gonna' make a meal outta you, baby. Promise it'll be worth it."

With his words, you're dipping back down to kiss him, feeling his hips eagerly bucking up into yours and revealing just how hard he was beneath his jeans.

"Need you," he whispers into your lips, "please. Soon?"

His incoherent babbling was already telling you everything you needed to know, his breathing picking up with the slight feeling of release he was getting by feeling you through the confines of fabric.

"Sit tight, pretty baby. Let me get situated." You part from his lips, planting one last kiss on his cheek before you're de-straddling yourself from his hips.

Your eyes zone in on his, reaching beneath your skirt to meticulously dance your way out of your lacy panties, as per his request for your skirt to stay on.

He watches through hooded eyes, discreetly moving his hand to palm himself through his jeans. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, as you partially undress yourself.

"Slow down, tiger. Save some for me."

"You're not making it any easier, ya’ tease." He grumbles, the corners of his mouth coming to a catty point.

You decided that a strip tease was enough, already feeling bad for making him wait this long. A nervous swirl settles in your stomach; having never done this before, you weren't sure what to expect.

But you knew that whatever was about to happen, Ashton would make it worth wild.

"C'mere," Ashton calls to you with two fingers, and you oblige, straddling his lap once again as his hands find you like a magnet.

"Where do you want me?"

"On my face."

You scoff, "Well duh, Ash."

"I'm serious. Don't know if I can go another fuckin' minute without your thighs as my earmuffs. Get up here. Now."

"Yes sir," you joke, shifting upward on his body. Your bare core was hovering over his chest, and he was practically drooling at the sight of you.

He gives you a quick asking glance, eyes wide and glassy as they had been since the second you two stepped off of the tour bus. You could tell how elated he was merely from the size of his pupils.

"Ready?" He asks gently, noticing you lingering.

"Think so." You suck in a deep breath, finding comfort in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Gonna start nice and slow. Nothin' to worry about." He runs a hand up your thigh, pushing up your skirt and exposing your body to him a little more.

"What makes you think I'm worried?" you quip.

"I can just see it in your eyes, baby."

The room did feel like it was spinning, but you were more bashful than nervous. But you could tell that Ashton didn’t care about the semantics of it all.

He just wanted to taste you.

After taking a moment to regain your confidence, you raise your hips. Ashton shifts down below you, peeking under your skirt at the mess you’ve already made of yourself.

"So wet, already? Damn Y/N, I’ve barely even touched you yet."

"You talk a big game for a man who practically melts when I call him pretty."

Ashton rolls his eyes, "Less talking, more ‘sit on my fuckin’ face, please’."

His hands cradle the backs of your thighs, which makes you sigh. You loved the feeling of his weathered palms; and how tenderly they scraped against your skin. Being high was only furthering that euphoria, enough to distract you from how antsy you were.

You finally let yourself lower onto his face, immediately feeling his nose nudging against your clit.

"Shit—" you hiss, for Ashton wastes no time in licking a healthy stripe up your slit.

Your muscles start to relax as his tongue moves within you, paying attention to your sounds and the jolts of your hips. He braces himself on your thighs, as you look down to see his face engulfed by your flesh and the fabric of your skirt.

"Can— can I watch?" You ask through shaky breaths, only for Ashton to knock his nose against your clit once again and release a moan from the back of your throat.

When he hums in response, a course of electricity shocks your veins. You knew that meant he was saying yes, but the feeling of him vibrating against your core brought your heart rate to double.

You start to rock your hips slowly, feeding into the motions of his tongue chipping away at you. You reach your hands down to lift your skirt, only to reveal two bright green eyes staring back at you between your thighs.

The sight of him beneath you, so eager to please you, could’ve had you cumming right on the spot. But you were enjoying this far too much to let it end right now.

"Ash, oh my god—" You whimper, the combination of his pleading eyes and nimble tongue having you doubled over in ecstasy.

You’re too busy staring down at him to notice how he’d closed his eyes and started to move faster. The speed at which his tongue was lapping against you brought your hands to fly to your chest. You started to pinch your own nipples above your shirt, but Ash was quick to notice.

His arm shoots up to knock against yours, moving it out of the way so that he could get his greedy hands on your tits.

"Fuck— please, please," you beg, although you weren’t really sure what you were begging for. It was taking everything in your power to hold off on your orgasm and enjoy this for as long as possible.

You look down at his face again to see the tip of his nose glittering with your arousal, sweaty black curls stuck, and rearranged to his forehead.

You can’t help but smile, letting out a few more whines and whimpers as you grind your hips. He was still toying with your nipple, but made the executive decision to slide his hand beneath your shirt.

He pinches your nipple between his fingers, receiving pleasure merely from the sounds slipping past your lips. Your entire body felt like it was set ablaze, your core warm and fuzzy from the weed and attention you were receiving from your boyfriend’s tongue.

"Ash, please—" You plead again, as Ashton’s hand switches to massaging your entire breast, still working up into you and lapping at your clit from time to time. "—Gonna cum’ soon."

A muffled groan could be heard from beneath you, sending a course of electricity through your veins. He was letting you know that he heard you loud and clear, but he wasn’t quite ready to give in just yet.

When the feeling of your impending orgasm gets to be too much, you start to panic.

"Wait— I—"

Without thinking, you lift yourself off of his face, instantly whining at the loss of contact from his mouth and the feeling of accidentally edging yourself.

“Baby, my God," he sighs, breathlessly, “don’t stop. Need— need you t’ cum on my face.”

His cheeks are slick with your arousal, lips glistening as he darts his tongue out to clean some of it off.

"Are you sure?" You mumble in return, still slightly dizzy from the whirlpool happening in your lower half. But Ashton then anchors his hands on your waist, giving your flesh a gentle, pleading squeeze.

"Yes please, baby. Fuckin’ soak me. Let me taste you while you cum for me."

He’s nodding frantically, reciprocating that energy of never wanting this moment to end.

"Ashton, I--"

"Keep saying my name, darlin'. Sounds so fuckin' hot comin' out of your mouth."

You can’t shake the feeling of your orgasm being on the brink for any longer, so you waste no time. His heavy breathing and bloodshot eyes has your stomach in knots.

You re-mount his face, starting your rhythm of rocking hips once more in time with his tongue.

That wave of bliss hits you again, picking up right where you had left off. You’re whining and groaning, still feeling his fingertips digging into you and holding you stable.

"Oh, Ashton."

He groans beneath you at the angelic sound of his name rolling off of your tongue. For extra stability while you grind into him, your grasp flies to the headboard, holding on tightly as you ride out your high.

"I’m so close, Ash… keep— keep going… fuck!"

Your body was shifting into overdrive, your head tossing back to let out a guttural whine from your chest.

”I’m— I’m cumming… Fuck, Ashton!"

The knot in your stomach finally snaps, sending a wave of chills rumbling down your limbs and practically taking the headboard off of the wall with the sheer force of your orgasm.

You whine as the sensation rolls out, gradually slowing down your rhythmic hips above your boyfriend, who was as stiff as a board.

"Ashton, holy fucking shit," you giggle, letting out a long sigh. But he was unresponsive. You look down between your thighs again at those glowing fern eyes, pupils large and wavering.

"You good, pretty boy?" You move to sit on his chest, his head resting between your knees and revealing that slicked face for a second time. His shocked, lust-fueled expression morphs into a wicked smile, before he runs his hands up and down the tops of your thighs.

"You're fuckin' crazy."

You shrug, "What can I say? You bring out the best in me."

He laughs again, taking a moment to breathe and run a hand through his sweaty charcoal curls.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he breathes, still admiring your body as if he hadn't just sent it into shock.

"What? You asked for it."

"Honestly, I could go again."

"I know we've got time but let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you tut, taking a hand to grab his cheeks, still between your legs, "A warm bath would definitely be nice, though. I'm still a kinda high."

He nods, "I could do that, yea... But the question is whether or not that tub is big enough for the both of us."

"Who said you were invited?" you joke.

"After what just happened on my face? Baby, I think ya' owe me one."

Your head was still a tad foggy so naturally, you found yourself giggling at everything coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. He smiles up at you warmly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

"Hey, what time is it anyway?"

"Not too late for you to run me a bath, if that's what you're implying."

He scoffs, using his broad hands to shift you down onto his lap so that he could sit upright.

"It's never too late for a bath, darlin'. I just wanted to know if I killed some time." He turns his head to glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, as do you.

"1:30." You say in unison.

"And only..." he looks at his wrist, acting as if he has on a watch, "...seven and a half more hours 'till call time."

Both you and Ashton laugh, while he's still tracing little heart patterns along your legs. "What if we took a seven and a half hour bath?" You suggest, feeding off of his teasing energy.

"We'd come out looking like fuckin' prunes."

"I'd say it's worth it...if it meant seven and a half more hours with you."

He moves his wandering hands to cup your face, cocking his head subtly to the side. You felt the sparks practically flying off of his fingertips as he looks at you with a beaming grin.

"Seven and a half hours doesn't mean a thing. We've got all the time in the goddamn world."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[superstar027]

~~~~~RUN~~~~~~~

"If his homie won't treat you right, he will"

Character: Geto Suguru

TW: Toxic Relationship, Cheating/Infidelity, Smoking

NOTE: This fanfic is inspired by @shirat0rizawa on TikTok. Please go check out their work because it's really amazing!! Also, this will most likely have 3 parts to it so I hope you all stay for the ride!

You and Sukuna have been together for a while now. Not that you would want that to be the case. You both met in a car meet. He was sitting on top of his beautiful 2013 Lykan Hypersport in red when your eyes met. If you could go back, you would've stabbed those eyes with a knife the moment they even slightly grazed your figure. But alas, here you are in the very same car meet watching your boyfriend fuck his latest side chick in the very same car he took you on dates in. This has been your life for the past few months. "You guys done yet?" You rolled your eyes at the two stuck to each other's mouths, moaning so loudly you swear they couldn't even hear you. Sukuna had invited you to go on a date but you were only met with the sight of him completely buried into another woman. "Just a sec, sweet thing." He zips up his pants and looks over to your annoyed face and body in a little black dress. “Sorry you saw that sweetheart; I swear I’ll be more careful next time.” He says slowly leaning in for a kiss that you so rudely dodged. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and gritted teeth as he pulls on your hair and forces your lips to collide.

You pull away and gagged on the floor. He was always too rough, never had a romantic moment with him. “Woah, chill with ya girl man, if she ever leaves you I’m first in line.” A man with long black hair in a neat bun said, teasing Sukuna. “I’d like to see her try to leave me.” Sukuna chuckled with a sinister undertone. This wasn’t new. You’ve tried to leave before. Tried. As soon as Sukuna found out you were with a new man, he disappeared; and if you ever tried again… you’d be next. That long-haired man is Geto, one of Sukuna’s fri- no, frenemies. Sukuna’s always pissed off at him for his longing glances toward you and you’re convinced Geto’s fucking around for the hell of it. The girl in Sukuna’s car finally got out. She looks towards you with a sly smirk on her face before she goes to plant a kiss on Sukuna’s neck. She whispered something in his ear causing a lustful smile to appear on his face. Sukuna then gave her a slap on the ass causing her to jump as she walks away. You look at Sukuna with furrowed eyebrows and a frown reeking of disgust. This wasn’t anything new, but the fact that he did this in front of his friends enraged you. You can’t fight back, however. He was much bigger, much stronger. The only thing you were able to do was to stomp away. “Aw, come on Y/N! don’t be like this!” He shouted. He wasn’t going to even chase after you! The best he could do was scream and then he’ll be carrying on with his life without even thinking about you.

You leaned against a dark corner opening up a pack of cigarettes and lighting it up with your lighter. Yet, another hobby Sukuna taught you. It helped you relax, and gather your thoughts. You suddenly turn your head to the sound of footsteps coming toward you. It was Geto. The moon was perfectly shining on his black hair perfectly illuminating his muscular figure; He wore a dark blue BMW racing jacket with black cargo pants. “Y’know I could do horrible things to you right now.”  He said with a slight smirk on his face. “Nothing worse than what my boyfriend has done to me.” You chuckled as you ran your hands through your hair.  He stood closer to you, hoping his presence would give you some comfort. “Why do you even stay with that asshole? You have me waiting for you!” You laughed at his joke, slightly hitting him on his arm “Ow! What the fuck was that for?!” You both chuckled. You looked at each other’s eyes with longing and lust behind them. In the heat of the moment, the both of you crashed your lips on each other engaging in a hot make-out session. “You shouldn’t do this. This is cheating! This makes you no better than that ass Sukuna! Ah! Who cares?! Just enjoy the moment, deal with the aftermath later…” Millions of thoughts ran through your head but all you could currently think about is the tongue exploring your mouth and the hair you’re grabbing to make it go deeper. You didn’t want it to end. You wanted to enjoy the moment further, deeper. But you’re both human after all. As you two separate for air, your conscience takes over you and you immediately realize your mistake.  You fix your dress and you run off; glancing back at Suguru with longing in both of your eyes. Suguru followed closely behind you; watching as you returned in the arms of an asshole that mistreats you and takes your love for granted. He knows he could do better.

It's 8 pm, and you’re preparing a beautiful pasta dinner you and hopefully Sukuna. If he even comes home. Sukuna hasn’t texted or called you back since that little incident from last week and you were bored out of your mind. Ding! You go over to check out the notification. It was a text message from Geto.

“You coming to the race later?”

“Race? What Race?”

“Oh, Sukuna hasn’t told you? There’s a race later by Shibuya, the usual spot y’know?”

“Oh.”

“Come with me.”

“Sukuna will be pissed.”

“So?”

“He’s gonna race you”

“I can take him”

As you are about to text him a reply, the door behind you opens, and in goes Sukuna. He hugs you from behind by your waist and plants small kisses on your neck. The smell of another woman's perfume was contaminating the room and it disgusted you. You break from his hug as you look towards him. “Aren’t you going to tell me something?” You say with arms crossed. He looks around the room and towards you before he replies, “No?”. “So, you weren’t planning to invite me to the race at Shibuya?” His eyes widened “I’m taking Hinata-!“ “Fuck Hinata!” You screamed at him in anger. “I’m your girlfriend! I’m the one you should be taking to these races! Not some side bitch you found on the streets!” “For fucks sake Y/N! We’ve talked about this! You’re not used to going to races! Shibuya races at that! Do you know how violent it gets out there?! And Hinata’s different! She’s used to these things!” He yelled at your face. All of a sudden you feel small and helpless. There was no winning this. You sighed and walked to your room not even touching one bit of the food you prepared.

            You locked the doors and bawled on your bed. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t fight. Unless…

You grab your phone and open your and Geto’s messages.

“I’ll be there.”

“That’s my girl”

Part 2 up now!!

Part 3 done!!

[greeenchrysanthemums]

Thus Always to Tyrants

Chapter 2: Secrecy and Shadows

Gem is the commander of the Wintertide royal army, Grian is the leader of a resistance hell bent on taking the crown down no matter the cost. It was only natural that they would become enemies.

Chapter 1 -> next

Read on ao3 ❀ here ❀

CW: Alcohol consumption

Words: 5,682

Pov: Grian

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“Head back to the hideout and wait for me there, Scar.” Grian addressed his companion. “I’ll meet you there later tonight to update you on the situation as soon as the meeting comes to an end and we’ll proceed from there.”

“So bossy,” Scar said, and Grian could hear the pout on his lips without having to look at him. Regardless of his (most likely dramatized) complaining, however, he did indeed leap from the roof to do as he was told, fading away into the shadows of the setting sun.

Grian waited a moment before dropping back down into the alley he and Gem had fought in, his cloak billowing up around him on the way down. It still smelt of smoke in the small space, though most of the visual remnants had cleared out by now. He pulled his hood back up over his head, hiding away his feathers and obscuring his features as best as the thick fabric could. 

There was at least a quarter hour of sunlight left in the sky, so that meant he had just as much time to burn before he was meant to meet with his someone who could make or break his plan. And he knew exactly how he was going to spend it.

He reentered the festival area, the overwhelming noise and smell bearing down on him in an instant. Grease, spices, perfumes, body odor, and more all punctuated by the ear ringing sound of laughter, bartering, and arguing. He could not claim to be a fan of any of it, nor could he claim to want to be here on this day, but, well, scheduling just works out in ways one does not like sometimes, and as a result he had no choice but to be out and about on a horrid day like this.

He made his way through the tightly packed crowd, moving fluidly between the warm bodies that stood between him and his objective. Grian was the average size and build of an avian of his kind, but he was smaller than the average person of any other race, so it was easy for him to maneuver his way through just about any obstacle, including the living ones.

He slid effortlessly into the shadows with his back against the backside of some kind of tent, likely a changing or storage area for performers. He peaked around the bend and spotted the Commander and her entourage immediately. They were alert and uneasy where they stood close to the stage. They monitored the area with careful eyes, ready for anything, for anyone. But he wasn’t just anyone. He had long ago learned to stay silent and hidden when he did not want to be found. His ears perked up at the sound of the Commander's voice.

“Patience, Scott. This is delicate information; I can’t risk letting it slip to the wrong person. We must wait for the arrival of his majesty before I am to utter a single word more on the subject.” She whispered, Grian’s ears just barely picking up on the quiet words.

“But if it is as grave as you appear to believe it is, I worry that we don’t have the time for you to wait for him to be present.” The blue haired man whispered back, though his pitch was louder than Gem’s, making him incredibly easy to hear in comparison. He did have a point, as well. If Grian’s plan really was going to take place sooner rather than later, she should be acting now. What was her reasoning behind being so secretive about it?

“No, Grian isn’t like that,” She interjected. Oh? “He wouldn’t tell me about a big grand plan and then immediately act upon it so soon after the fact. He knows I would be on high alert after something like that, so he will wait even if it means he gives us a chance to prepare, because the longer he waits the more likely we are to let our guard down. 

“Not to mention, we’ve not a single clue what we are even preparing for, and he knows that. If we rush in head on, even if he were to act right now, we would have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. No, If I had to guess, whatever it is he has planned will not take place until the King’s speech or even later after it. And that is assuming it has anything to do with the festival at all, which I am beginning to doubt. We have time, and we are going to use it to clear our heads of the initial panic and wait for the King.”

Grian let himself smirk at the assessment, impressed. She was right of course, just as she usually was. He wasn’t planning on doing anything just yet, and what he did have in mind for today was something she wouldn’t suspect regardless, nor was it something she could stop unless she knew where to look. He knew without a doubt in his mind, as well, that she didn’t know where to look.

“You know that I am not one to doubt your mind, but are you sure about this? We all know what he is capable of. Should we be taking the chance?” The taller man with the nubby horns asked in a nervous manner. 

Do you truly know what I am capable of? Grian wondered to himself, already knowing the answer.

Gem put her hand on the older man’s shoulder and said with sincerity “Trust me, old friend. I would not do anything I thought would put us, or anyone else here, in danger.”

This seemed to quell at least some of the man’s unease, because they fell into silence shortly thereafter. 

Grian knew that Gem was still anxious herself despite the confident front she put on in front of her group of knights; the way she shifted from foot to foot and glanced around while twirling a stray strand of hair hanging in her face was a dead giveaway of this. Not many would notice these nervous habits unless they were looking for them. In fact, he knew it was likely that she made attempts to hide these shows of weakness to those around her, and she hid them well enough. It was simply that Grian had spent far too much time observing her, and anyone else who might be a threat, to not notice them easily.

She was nervous, but she was good at playing brave and making sure everyone else's nerves were calmed; a skill that any good leader should possess. The crown really was lucky to have her on their side, Grian thought with a note of bitterness.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, here comes the king now.

The crowd, previously an eclectic buzz of ear grating noises combined into one, quickly turned to unanimous cheers and murmurs of excitement, though if he focused hard enough, he could also hear some poorly concealed comments of contempt from some festival goers that made him snicker to himself. The crowd turned almost as one, and Grian followed their gaze over to none other than King Ren himself. 

The thicket of people in the square parted to make way for the large, white horse which he rode upon. The stead was draped in riches almost as grand as his own attire, looking every bit the royal transportation that it was. Grian had to hold himself back from sneering at the way he held himself, back as straight as a board and head upturned so he was able to look down his nose at the common folk. 

His jewel encrusted crown sparkled in the quickly fading sun, scattering fragments of colourful light in every direction. His red, fur embroidered cloak looked far too warm, even for the chilly weather. His many rings looked expensive enough to feed a family for months with the coin you could get off of selling it. Even his stiff, well-tailored clothes looked more expensive than a vast majority of the exported goods sold in the clothing area of the festival. Overall, he looked just as pompous and over dressed as he always did.

At his side, holding onto the reins of the horse from down below, walked the King’s royal advisor and personal guard, Martyn. The man stood tall, his clothes just as uselessly expensive looking, but less stiff to allow him easy movement and covered by a layer of grey armour to protect his delicate weak spots. The strip of green fabric that was tied around his forehead looked more a hindrance than a help, doing little to keep his hair out of his face and only providing a way for sweat to gather and sit stagnant on his skin.

Gross, questionable fashion choice, but who was he to judge.

With the appearance of the two important men, Grian distanced himself from the stage and took to the roof tops beyond the stands and tents. He huffed as his talons made contact with the tiles and his knees bent back to steady him. He was not out of view by any means, but who would think to look to the roof at a time like this? They were all too drunk or occupied with preparing for the feast to care if they saw him anyway.

He watched the Commander march over to the King the second he dismounted from his horse and speak to him, her hands animated as she seemingly explained to him that they needed to talk. He waved her off at first, which Grian could see made her angry by the way her body became tense. Then his advisor put his hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. King Ren nodded and then motioned for Gem to follow him.

Grian jumped from one roof to the next as he followed Gem and The King to an area of the festival that was less occupied, his movements light and airy, but also quick and precise. Eventually they reached an unoccupied area behind the stands similar to the one Grian was hiding behind not long ago. The soldiers formed a semi-circle around them as they came to a stop, keeping an eye out and making sure no one got close enough to listen in on the conversation the two of them were about to have. They were very great at their job.

He settled into a crouch on one of the roofs near them, his talons curling under to grip onto the rafter in order to stop himself from falling. He had positioned himself close enough to hear most of what was said, but hopefully not close enough to be seen or heard himself.

“... warning, you say?” Ren asked, carelessly loud as Grian focused in on the conversation. 

“Yes, your highness” Gem confirmed with a nod of her head.

“That hardly makes any sense, Commander. What reason would he have to warn his enemies that he has a plan against them?” The King asked in a condescending tone that left Grian sneering at the sheer indignity of it.

“Your highness, I mean you no disrespect when I say it would be unwise of us to underestimate Grian. Odd as it may be that he’s come to us with a warning, it would do us well to take him seriously. We have no way of knowing the power and numbers he has, nor what it is that he is planning.” Gem said, her tone firmer.

“Or if he is planning anything at all.” Ren said. Grian could not see her face, but he could tell the Commander’s eyebrow twitched, a facial que that she was pissed. She took a measured breath before responding.

“It would be wise to be on guard regardless.” She said, tone even and steady, masking her anger fairly well. King Ren opened his mouth to argue, but then his advisor settled his hand on his shoulder yet again and he raised a jewel encrusted hand up to his chin, scratching at his beard. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything. Gem’s shoulders were tense.

“I trust you, Commander,” He finally said, “If it would bring you peace, tell the soldiers to keep their eyes open and increase the security in the streets. Do you believe he will try anything tonight?”

Grian perked up in delight. An increase of soldiers in the streets was not a good thing by any means, but it still meant a decrease in soldiers within the castle. That could work in their favour. What a pleasant outcome to his risky warning. He knew it was worth it.

“No, your highness,” Gem said, “It is unlikely he will make his move tonight, but I still believe it would be for the best if we tighten security, especially around the feast.”

“Have it be done than. If that is all, I believe I have a speech to make, do I not?  You’ve kept me from it long enough.” Ren said. 

Gem and her right-hand men bowed to the King, and with that he took his leave, the soldiers that had been guarding the area following after him. Gem and her men stayed behind for a moment, anger clearly stewing. She punched the stone wall behind her with a noise of frustration before bringing her hand up to rub the spot between her brows. Impulse tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and took the lead back towards the city square.

Grian knew he should be going. He was most definitely late for the meeting at this point, but surely it could not hurt to listen in just a little bit more. Who knows what he was likely to hear. He unhooked his talons and took off across the rooftops once more.

As he grew closer to the center once more, where the stage had shrunk in size and been surrounded with rows upon rows of tables that were overflowing with delicious foods, he jumped from the roof and onto one of the unattended, canopy covered alcohol stands. He sank into the surface, causing it to cave in the slightest amount. He pulled his talons into his core to avoid tearing the fabric apart and rolled towards the edge until he was on his belly overlooking the feast.

He had perfectly positioned himself on the stand next to the royal dining table, where everyone important or related to the king was sat eating the plethora of food. There were large kegs of alcohol atop the tables, rendering the stand he lay upon useless, so it was unlikely for anyone to approach it and find him. 

He watched as Ren made his way up onto the small stage, Martyn ever by his side. He began to talk, voice loud and domineering over the crowd as laterns all around them began to light up the growing darkness. Grian tuned the entirety of speech out, uncaring of whatever prattle was going to come out of his mouth. He knew he would gain nothing of value from it. His speeches were all the same, empty promises of safety full of nauseating amounts of self flattery. 

His attention sharpened as Ren raised a golden goblet of wine up into the air, “To another year of prosperity!” He declared.

Grian covered his sensitive ears as the cheers of the crowd grew far too loud for him to bear. He watched as the King made his way over to his designated table, marked by the grand, gold lined red tablecloth that covered the surface. He uncovered his ears when the noise softened to an acceptable, but still aggravating, level as everyone began to feast.

The King sat at one end of the long table, Martyn sitting to his left with cautious eyes. Gem sat at the other end, Scott and Impulse on either side of her; they were who Grian had positioned himself near. Scott, the one with the blue hair, looked peeved. He leaned in towards an equally as angry appearing Gem, his elbows on the table as he spoke to her. Grian closed his eyes and focused his sensitive ears to hear them among all of the noise.

“I just do not understand his unwillingness to listen,” Scott said in a tone just above a whisper. “He knows better than anyone where your skills lie. It would do him well to trust in your word and instinct when facing something unknown like this threat.”

“He meant me no disrespect,” Gem said, though her tone said she believed otherwise. “This is out of the usual for Grian. He may even be right, who is to say it is not just a trick he is playing on us all?” 

“But to dismiss it so easily-.”

“That’s enough, we’ll talk more after-.” Gem interrupted and the cut herself off, her eyes turning towards the roof tops.

Grian ducked out of view, though he doubted she would have seen him from where he was regardless. It was too risky to keep listening in when she was in some way aware of his presence, so he took that as a sign that it was best he be on his way. 

He looked around him and found that the sun had fully set at this point. The moon and stars were both high in the sky, meaning it was well beyond time for him to go. He rolled towards the edge of the canopy and slipped off with one easy motion, hitting the ground with a near silent clink of his talons. He kept hidden behind the booths until he rejoined the crowd outside of the town square. The flickering fire from the lanterns cast dancing shadows across the walls and the ground, creating a kaleidoscope along what was visible of the stone floor.

He reached the tavern in a timely manner and pushed the wooden door open. This place was usually more busy, but with the festival in full swing most would prefer to get their alcoholic fix in the streets where they could enjoy the festivities at the same time. Because of this, the spacious tavern was mostly empty, save for a few regular drunkards and people who had stumbled in to avoid the noise of the outside world.

It was dark inside, the few, scattered lamps that were lit around the space providing very little actual light. It was also filthy, with trash, food scraps, and sticky puddles of ale littering the floors and tables. There was a man slumped over one of the tables near the entrance, his hand still loosely holding onto an empty mug. He swore he spotted another man underneath a table near the back, but he chose to ignore it.

Grian made his way over to the bar, where the tender was stood rubbing the lip of a mug with a filthy towel as he eyed Grian with suspicion and murderous intent. 

“I thought I told yous to stop coming here after the last time,” The man said, setting the mug on the counter with enough aggression that it rattled the racks of cups behind him. “Yous is trouble, too much trouble.”

“I’m here to meet a friend,” Grian said with a smile, undeterred by the aggravation directed his way. The man did have a right to want him gone, after all. Last time he’d been inside of this establishment he’d started a bar fight that ended with Gem showing up and the two of them fighting. The damage done to the interior had been spectacular.  “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him around? About my height, maybe a little taller. Brown hair, green streak in the front. Perhaps he had gills and earfins?” 

“I have the right mind to call the guards in here right now, you know. Lotta nerve you’ve got showing up here to conduct your shady business.” The man said, crossing his arms.

“We both know you won’t, though.” He said, his grin turning into more of a smirk, “So, have you seen him?”

The bartender grunted, a sour expression on his face, before he pointed to the far corner of the bar, where a hooded figure sat at a large, round table all by himself. Grian gave the bartender a slight bow before heading over to where his potential ally was sat. 

The hooded man looked up as Grian approached, his green eyes reflecting the flickering orange light of the lantern that hung from the ceiling. He was nursing a mug of ale that Grian knew from experience tasted like warm piss on a good day, and based on his twisted expression as he took a sip, today was not a good day. Well, people didn’t come here for the taste of the ale anyway.

Grian pulled one of the chairs away from the table and spun it around so he could sit with his legs spread and his arms resting over the back. He was rewarded with an unimpressed look, for more reasons than one.

“About time you showed up. I’ve been waiting a bloody quarter hour.” Joel scolded, his sharp teeth on display.

“Sorry, Joel, I got a little caught up on the way here.” He said, choosing to leave out the part where he had been spying on Gem and her people.

“Sh! Keep your voice down, would you? Might as well just run into the streets and announce that I’m here while you're at it!” Joel whispered harshly, leaning forward with paranoid eyes. Grian rolled his own black eyes at the exclamation.

“Joel is a very common name, and you aren’t the only one with it. I can guarantee you that no one knows who you are. Even the hood is unnecessary.” Grian retorted, leaning forward to flick the hairline of the hood. Joel leaned back, glaring.

“You’re wearing a hood as well, you know.” Joel protested.

“Because unlike you, I am well known in this area, and I would be recognized.” Grian replied with a tilt of his head. He felt like that was obvious.

“Whatever,” He said, taking a swig of the drink in his hands as his eyes scanned the tavern, “Let’s get down to business before this place falls apart on top of us.”

“Oh, come now, it’s not that bad.” Grian said, waving his hand. He reached over and snatched the ale from Joel’s hands and took several hardy gulps. He licked his lips and slammed the mug down onto the table, “That being said, the owner very much would like to see me buried six feet under, so perhaps it is best we get this over and done with as soon as possible.”

Joel looked perturbed by the assertion and the theft of his drink but said nothing of either.

“So, tell me, what choice have you come to in regard to the plan?” Grian asked.

"She has agreed to the plan, and I’ve been officially assigned to take care of preparations for you. I will personally be coordinating everything over the course of the next few weeks. It should all be in place just in time for the New Moon, just as you asked.” Joel said, posture straightening as he spoke.

“Excellent news!” Grian said, taking another drink of the alcohol and wiping the foam off of his lips with his shoulder, “I will arrange for a place for each group to camp out until the night we make our move.”

“I was just going to ask about that. I have already taken the liberty of renting out one of the vacant shops in the market district under a fake name. I already have a group here who accompanied me on my journey, so I will have them base there, but the shop is not nearly big enough to occupy the number of people you have requested.” Joel said. He eyed the mug Grian had stolen from him, and Grian slid it back over to him. Joel frowned when he saw how much Grian had drunken from it, squinting at him over the lip of the mug as he took a drink himself.

“Leave all further housing to me, I will take care of it.” Grian said. He briefly wondered if he should order his own ale but decided against it. He didn’t need to give the bartender more reasons to be angry with him.

“You can expect the second group of men and women to arrive by the end of next week. They will be disguising themselves as the family of my men already here, so be on the lookout for merchants selling glass.” Joel said.

“Give them word that they should head to Big Bakeries once they’re inside of the Capital and ask for the secret recipe. He will send them my way and I’ll get them settled.” He said, reaching over for the mug. Joel let him take it, and he deflated in disappointment when he found it empty.

“I’ll be sure to pass along the message,” Joel said before slapping his hands on the tabletop and pushing himself up into a standing position, “You made me wait too long, so I’ve got to be on my way. I’m on a tight schedule if you want things moving smoothly. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“I think we’re done here unless you need something from me,” Grian said, moving to stand as well when Joel shook his head ‘no’. He kicked the leg of the chair to spin it around to its proper placement and pushed it in, “It’s been both a pleasure and an honour doing business with you, I look forward to our future interactions.”

“You know how to get into contact with me if you need to,” Joel said, fixing his hood so that it properly hid his face.

“And you, me. If the usual avenue doesn’t work for whatever reason, you may also find me through the same method as your men, or you may also reach me through the inventors on Tinker Avenue. All you have to do is tell them you are there to watch when they ask what you need.” Grian said.

“Gods, I forgot it was your reach that tipped us off to your existence. It’s disturbing how many connections you have within the city. It makes one wonder what you need our help for at all.” Joel said, eyeing him.

“We are many, but there are hardly enough of us to lay siege to an entire castle all on our own. Your assistance is as greatly needed as it is appreciated.” Grian said. Joel nodded in understanding and then rounded the table to stand near him. He held out his hand and Grian reached out his own to shake it, careful to not scratch the man with his sharp nails.

“I was here much longer, so it only makes sense that I will be the one to head out first,” Joel said. Grian nodded and let go of the man’s hand, watching as his ally departed from the tavern. 

He waited what he hoped was an appropriate amount of time to avoid appearing like he was following Joel out before pulling a bag of coins from his belt and tossing them towards the bartender. He caught it with a nasty look and tucked the bag away under the counter. He pointed towards the door and Grian rolled his eyes as he saw his way out before he could be thrown out.

As he entered the night air, he shivered a bit. Though it was only fall right now, it was already growing colder by the day. Winter would be upon them in no time. He would have to remember to inform everyone that they should wear warm underclothes once the fated night arrived.

The festival was still well in effect at this point, the jovial sounds reaching his ears and the smell of the food making his stomach rumble. He hoped their joy would last after his plan was enacted. He was doing it for them, even if they didn’t know it. While he had faith that everything would go well, especially with the news that their sister kingdom, Coral Crest, was on their side, there was always the ever-looming threat that things would go wrong.

In any case, he needed to get home to tell Scar the good news and give him a new task. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he exited the town, the noise finally dissipating to a low murmur before disappearing entirely and being replaced by the near silent sounds of crickets and wind ruffled leaves. He hurried through the trees to the location of his and Scar’s main hideout, one only they and Mumbo knew about, and looked around to ensure he wasn’t followed. Not that it really mattered. This place was completely guarded by magic, but one could never be too safe when you lived the life Grian did.

Once he was sure he was alone, he entered the cave hidden among the boulders and trees, and carried on further until he reached a split in the long tunnel. He came to several of these twists and turns until he finally reached the cavern he had been calling home for many years now. It was small, the interior only about the size of the average house, illuminated naturally by amethyst and some species of moss that grew along the ceiling and ground. There was a hammock in the corner for him to sleep in, a few chests scattered around the area, and a table that held a pitcher of water and piles of papers, both used and unused, in the center of the room.  The left wall was entirely covered in papers with his messy handwriting on them, along with diagrams of the castle; all of his planning throughout the years.

Few people knew that this place existed. It was safer that way.

“Scar.” He said, his words echoing in the dark. He let out an exacerbated sigh when he received no response. He raised his voice, “Scar!” 

“So impatient,” A voice said directly beside him. He didn’t so much as flinch, having had years to develop an immunity to the Scar’s bullshit and antics, “Give me a chance to respond!”

“Coral Crest has agreed to help us during the new moon.” Grian got right to the point. “They’ll be sending groups of soldiers to us over the next few weeks until then, so we’ll have to be ready for their arrival. Can you safeguard a few houses?”

“Anything for you, my delightful birdie friend.” Scar said. A meow reached Grian’s ears and he looked down to find Scar’s familiar rubbing against his leg. She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he reached down, gingerly taking her into his arms before standing again.

“And while you’re at it, do me a favour and safeguard the glass shop over in the shopping district as soon as you can. There are a few Coral Crest allies stationed there already, and we wouldn’t want something happening to them.” Grian tacked on, scratching Jellie under the chin with the tip of his talon, as gentle and careful as could be though he knew he could not hurt her. She purred in his hold.

“Consider it done.” Scar said, and then continued with a satisfied grin, “The pieces are falling into place just as we hoped they would, aren’t they?”

“We’ve prepared for this day for nearly a decade. There is hardly any room for anything to go wrong.” Grian stated matter-of-factly, settling Jellie down on the ground.

“Let us hope that things keep going our way then.” Scar said before he and Jellie disappeared just as suddenly as they had showed up, no doubt getting right to work with the things Grian had tasked Scar with. Scar may be a bit on the carefree and goofy side from time to time, but he was also quick and efficient, especially with Jellie by his side. It would be taken care of by morning, Grian was sure of it.

All he had left to do until Joel arrived with more of his men in the coming week was go over the ground plans with his engineers, but that could wait. He pulled his cloak off of himself and discarded it on the chair by the table before heading over to the swinging hammock that hung from the lower parts of the ceiling. He climbed into it with practiced ease, folding an arm behind his head and settling the other on his stomach with his feet hanging over the edge. For now, he would sleep and await the new day. 

He smiled a true, sincere grin up at the stone ceiling. Soon it would all be over, and this living nightmare would finally, at last, come to an end. Scar was right, everything truly was falling right into place for him.

Gem froze mid-sentence and turned her head at an unnatural speed towards one of the alcohol booths off to the side of the table. Her mouth snapped shut and her brows furrowed, lips twisting into a confused and foul expression.

“What is it, Gem?” Impulse asked, leaning back in his chair to look in the direction she was.

She hesitated for a second, eyes trained on the darkness. There was nothing there that either she or the boys could see, but still she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something, no someone, there. She, against her better judgement, turned her attention back towards her meal. She couldn’t let that encounter with Grian drive her mad with paranoia this early on. She had to be on her A-game, and that included not jumping at the shadows.

“It was nothing,” She said, ignoring the growing pit of unease that had yet to leave her. She only hoped that her words held true.

[orangeinecstasy]

would love to see a bobby fic!! maybe a friends to lovers? adore that trope , and maybe it’s like a party and one of them gets jealous?? then it leads to them arguing and confessing 🤭 ( maybe a bit of 😏😏 near the end? up to you!! ) love ur work btw!!

an: omg friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes ever! AND WITH BOBBY UGH!!!! it's so perfect for him. thanks so much for your suggestion and hope you enjoy!

halloween party ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟrobbery keating

paring: robert x fem!oc

summary: at Kat's halloween birthday bash, robert has to decipher whether his feelings for kat are purely platonic or maybe something more.

wc: 950

*reblogs, notes, and feedback are greatly appreciated!!

The music in the house was so loud. Too loud if I was being honest with myself. It bombarded my mind as I was dragged through the dimly lit living room by my friend Niya. She decided that this year I should live a little and somehow convinced me to throw a party for my birthday. However, my birthday happened to be Halloween, so I was in a mini skirt and corset vaguely resembling Marie Antoinette. At least that’s why Niya said when she gave me the outfit and told me to start getting ready earlier that night. 

“I have a surprise!” She said, her smile looking too close to a smirk for my liking. “Please don’t tell me it’s something crazy like a dude with a monkey..” I could feel the knots in my stomach grow tighter. Something about this night felt so different from all my other birthdays. 

“Surprise!!!!” Niya yelled as she pushed me in front of her, squeezing my shoulders gently. That’s when I saw him. His hair was all messy, and where the fuck was his shirt? “Happy Birthday, Kat,” Robert said with a smile as he started to light the candles on the cake I didn’t even notice he was holding. “Make a wish.” 

Just knowing his blue eyes were on me made my body ache in the most primal way. My eyes glanced down at the lit candles before back at his, closing my eyes for a moment before thinking of a wish and blowing them out. Everyone cheered, my lips curling up in a smile as Robert set the cake down on the table, pulling me into a tight hug. 

He smelled like smoke and leather, and his skin was so warm. And my god, his hands, they were so big and warm and gripping my waist so tightly. “What’d you wish for?” he whispered in my ear, breath hot on my neck. “If I tell you, it won’t come true,” I gave him a tight squeeze, my hands lingering on his forearms as I pulled away from him. The party quickly returned to its noisy-colorfully lit atmosphere. 

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?” 

“I couldn’t miss my girl’s birthday,” His eyes moved down my body slowly. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. “Princess?” 

“Marie Antoinette, actually. Sid Vicious?” I cocked my eyebrow, reaching up to gently tug on the chain around his neck. “Ding ding ding!” 

“It suits you.” 

“Kat, come on, I need to introduce you to someone,” Niya said, grabbing my arm. “I’ll see you later. Have fun!” I smiled, giving Robert a wave before being pulled back into the crowd of people by Niya. 

The night continued on, my mind fogged with one too many vodka cranberries. Time felt like an illusion as my body moved on the dance floor. I didn’t know whose hands were roaming my body, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel skin. To feel warmth. 

“Fuck, I’m dizzy,” I mumbled, pulling away from my faceless partner and wandering outside onto the patio. The cool air sent shivers down my spine as the sound of passing cars on the street below mixed with the muffled music. “Kat?” I turned to face with Rob once again. 

“Bobby!” the drunk flush on my cheeks grew darker. Even in the dim lighting, I could see his jaw clench. “I’m really sorry I got pulled away from you earlier.” 

He shrugged, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “It’s whatever,” he placed one between his lips, taking a long drag from it. 

“Bobby, I can tell you’re upset.” I stepped closer to him, arms slipping around his neck. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” 

He didn’t budget. Instead, his hands moved down, pulling my grip away from him. “It’s nothing.” 

“You don’t have to be such an asshole, Jesus,” I huff, arms wrapping around my body to provide some warmth. 

“Me, the asshole? What the fuck ever.” He shook his head, taking another long drag off his cigarette. “I went out of my way to come to your birthday party because I care about you and you're fucking people on the dance floor.” 

I scoffed, shocked by the sudden change in his behavior. What happened to my sweet Rob? The guy who was always there and ready to do something stupid or to make me feel better when I was crying over God knows what. 

“Robert, what the fuck is your problem? It’s my party. I’m allowed to have fun.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot the princess gets everything she wants.” he was becoming even more defensive than before. 

“Fuck you! Why do you even care?”

“Because I’m in love with you, Kat. Are you thank fucking thick in the head?” 

My chest tightened, his words echoing in my head for a moment. “You what?” My heart was beating so fast I thought it would fall out of my chest. “I’m in love with you,” his voice got quieter as the words fell from his lips. 

“Robert I,” my chest was too tight. It’s like the universe was telling me not to confess. “I love you too,” My arms wrapped around him, tugging his body closer to me as our lips crashed into a kiss. I could feel his hands on my body, the warm, familiar skin radiating through the costume’s fabric, only making me ache more for him. 

We broke away, breath heavy as his forehead rested on mine. “Your lipstick’s all smudged,” He said with a soft chuckle, thumb swiping over the corner of my mouth to try and clean it up. 

“Why don’t you smudge it some more, hmm?” 

“I think I can do that,” He said, clearing the air between our mouths once again. 

an: i hope you guys enjoyed! i really wanted to get this out there for all my inhaler readers, so sorry if it seems a bit rushed. there will definitely be a part two.