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hayakawalove · 23 days

Text

Intertwined

Best Friends and Better Halves, Chapter 1

Summary: You were in 10th grade when you first met Eren Jaeger. Enticing eyes and a big mouth. There was no way you could know how important he would become to you.

As the tendrils of your youth fade away you find yourself confused. Your relationship with him grows more complicated throughout the years, taking you by surprise at every turn.

A story of love, lust, and addiction.

A/N: This has been in the works for 13 months. We're so excited to finally share it. My best friend @zeninsama who is also the coauthor, and I have spent countless hours talking and thinking about this story. They coauthored this with me and we worked really hard.

I do have some warnings. This story delves into addiction and how it affects relationships. This by no means means we are glorifying it, we are only exploring it. Their relationship will be complicated, but it's supposed to be. If you find yourself no longer interested in it that's perfectly fine. It won't hold back, it won't be pretty.

There will be lots of flashbacks in this fic. We debated for a long time on how to go about it, but I think we settled on a way. Flashbacks will be sprinkled throughout the fic and will always be separated with "~~~" before and after. There will also be the time period before so as to not confuse you. The past is very important to their relationship so it needs to be included. It won't be in every chapter, and some chapters will be purely flashbacks. We will use "///" to indicate transitions in a scene. The flashbacks for the most part will be in order.

We love this story, and hope you do too.

CW: Drug use, alcohol use, violence, fem reader, AFAB reader

W/C: 8,043

Banner credit: @benkeibear

~~~

-Summer before Senior year-

Warmth.

He always did run hot. His lips meld to yours, whispers of cherry gracing your tastebuds. Rough hands you had long been accustomed to held your face, keeping you still and pliant just for him. Eren’s tongue slips free, gently dragging along your bottom lip. You felt as if you were floundering, desperately trying to keep up. He pulls away and you’re met with forest green staring back at you.

“Was that any better?” He teases.

~~~

-Current-

Eren Jaeger is a lot of things.

Punctual is not one of them.

It’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last – but it was, however, the first time Eren had been late to a party he invited you to. You weren’t much for large gatherings, or gatherings of any size for that matter. You would’ve opted to stay home if Eren hadn’t practically begged you to come with him.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” He had said.

Yeah, right. It reeks of booze and frat boys only have one volume – screaming their heads off.

You sigh and push off from the countertop, not wanting to wait around any longer. If Eren was going to come he would’ve shown by now. Thanks a lot, Eren.

You make it one step before an arm snakes around your shoulders.

“Hey.”

The scent of cheap beer is replaced by warm, woody cologne, cut with the pungent smell of weed. It’s so distinctly Eren Jaeger.

He squeezes your shoulder in a half-hug.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Soon? I’ve been here for 30 minutes,” you grumble.

Eren releases you from his hold and repositions himself in front of you, blocking you from the kitchen door. He’s dressed in all black, a worn brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders. Tucked behind his ear is a neatly rolled joint. It was a signature look for him.

“Work ran late. Besides, I had a few deliveries to make.”

“Deliveries? What, does the shop not pay you enough?” You tease.

Eren’s mouth quirks in a smile as he pokes back, “I thought my best friend was supposed to support my passions. I’m a small business owner.”

You roll your eyes, moving to pass Eren and finally be released from this hellhole, but his hand grips your wrist to pull you back. His touch is warm, grounding.

“Heyheyhey, where do you think you’re going?”

“Home? I’ve had enough of this place.”

“But I just got here! Come on, just one drink and we can head out.”

“Fine.”

You allow Eren to drag you back into the kitchen and lean against the countertop for support, watching with your arms crossed over your chest while Eren fills a red plastic cup with a little bit of everything spread out before you. Vodka, wine cooler, some kind of fruit juice.

“Gross, Eren!”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.”

He takes a swig from your cup before handing it to you (“making sure it’s safe”, he says) and you accept, brow raised in suspicion before following suit and taking a sip. Besides the initial bite from the vodka, it’s really not that bad. It just tastes like juice – albeit a dangerously intoxicating one that’ll have you regretting tonight even more in the morning. Eren always takes his drinks like this, opting to get loosened up faster and not really giving a shit about the contents.

Against your better judgment, you take another sip.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“See? I’ve never steered you wrong. Ever. Not even once.”

You snort into your cup and Eren raises his brows, feigning offense.

“I haven’t! Name one time.”

“The time Mrs. Steven busted us trying to buy beer with your shitty fake ID.”

“That wasn’t that bad.”

“My mom grounded me for a month!”

“We wouldn’t have seen each other if I didn’t have the best climbing skills in town.”

You both laugh and shake your head, watching the party ahead of you with a smile on your face while Eren watches you with a smile on his.

“Okay koala man.”

“Koala man?”

“They’re good at climbing, right?”

Eren’s drink helps ease your nerves, along with your burning need to leave this party. You might even say you’re starting to have fun now that Eren’s here. He tends to do that – make anything feel fun and lighthearted. He doesn’t take things as seriously as you do. This used to make you skeptical when you first met Eren in high school. He seemed like a bad influence, if not just a nuisance, but you had to admit he really was a good guy. He’s still a little shit though.

“So, who do you even know here? I thought all your friends were in Paradise City.”

“This is Reiner’s house. You’ve met him, right?”

Reiner, Reiner, Reiner… You mull it over. Eren has a lot of “friends”, so it’s hard to remember all of them by name. He’s always been so charismatic.

“Blond? Muscles?”

“Bingo.”

“Oh yeah, he’s nice.”

You throw his name around several times in your head. You hadn’t had many interactions with Reiner, but everytime you did speak with him he seemed nice. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what he and Eren had in common. Reiner was a jock through and through - even played for the football team. Eren on the other hand… Well, he was Eren. Your Eren nonetheless.

Your lips press against the plastic cup as you take another sip of Eren’s concoction, feeling a buzz start to come on already. Your senses feel dull as your eyelids slowly get heavier and heavier.

“Hitting you harder than I thought it would, damn you’re a lightweight.” Eren chuckles, tossing back his drink like it was nothing.

You click your tongue at him and roll your eyes. Maybe he had a point. It wasn’t your fault. Not everyone drank and partied it up in highschool like he did. You dread the day a doctor gets a look at his liver - or even worse, his lungs.

“Finish your drink then we can head out if you still want?” He offers, tossing his cup in the overflowing bin beside you.

You nod and swish your drink around in front of you, there was still half the cup left. Eren lets out a chuckle.

Eren hops off the counter. “I’m gonna go light up, you coming with?”

“I think I’m good.”

He plucks the joint from behind his ear and heads towards the patio. “Suit yourself. At least try to make some friends while I’m gone. The thought of you being all depressed without me is gonna ruin my high.”

“Yeah, bye, Eren,” you wave him off, a smile spreading across your face.

You notice your body feels much more relaxed now than it did initially. Eren has a funny way of doing that to you. Most of the time, you’re polar opposites – you being high strung while Eren hardly took anything serious. You balance each other out.

A light buzz reaches your head, heat creeping up your neck and ears. Eren really knew how to make an effective drink. Even the music sounds better, no longer blaring and rattling the house but mellowing into the background with a low rhythm and bass you could feel thumping in your chest.

~~~

-Fall of Sophomore year-

“Everyone, we have a new student joining our class. Go ahead and introduce yourself, sweetheart.”

“Eren Jaeger,” the new kid speaks, expression and tone heavy with boredom. His hair is brown and slightly overgrown, sitting just under his ears. “I transferred from Maria Reformatory. Go Titans.”

Finally, something different.

“Nice to have you, Eren!” The teacher welcomes.

His eyes meet yours. They’re beautiful – a vibrant shade of emerald green you’ve never seen before. Only on movie stars, or models, same thing. You straighten in your seat, feeling perceived.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” One of the girls blurts out, causing the class to erupt in laughter.

You return your attention to the assignment in front of you, silently groaning. The teacher attempts to quell the chaos while directing Eren down the aisle, towards the empty seat conveniently located beside you.

You intentionally picked this seat because you wanted to be away from everyone else.

“Hey,” Eren introduces himself, tossing his backpack under his desk and digging for a pencil in the front pouch. “What’s your name?”

You grumble your name, eyes not leaving the worksheet.

“I’m Eren.”

“Yeah, I heard the introduction.”

“Wow. Okay, attitude.”

Eren slouches in his seat, his too-long legs extending beyond his desk, like a newborn giraffe.

Focusing is hard when you feel his eyes bore holes into your side, analyzing you. It felt like a bug crawling up your neck, almost making you shiver at the weight of his gaze. You opt to ignore him, do what you’ve always done and keep your head down. You don’t need friends, they’re disruptive. Not like anyone here gets you anyways.

Eren, however, had no intention of leaving you alone.

“How do you like the school?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it before.”

“You can’t tell if you like it or not?”

“I’m trying to focus,” you admit, slightly exasperated.

“Didn’t know there was a rush.”

Eren turns forward, brows raised in amusement. You were quick to bite and maybe not the most friendly, but it only piqued his curiosity.

You watch Eren adjust in your peripheral vision, like he’s just now realizing there’s nothing on his desk. Your finger taps anxiously on your own table.

“Hey teacher, I don’t have one of those,” Eren points out, referring to your textbook.

“You’ll get one soon,” the teacher interjects. Don’t say it, please don’t say it…

Your heart sinks when she says your name.

“You don’t mind sharing, right?”

Your finger stills.

“No, ma’am.”

Eren smirks and scoots his desk closer to yours, metal legs scraping against the floor until the edges touch. The scent of Old Spice body spray wafts over into your space, with something skunky underneath that explains his red and lazy eyes.

“This works out great!” Your teacher exclaims, eyes meeting yours. “Now that Eren has joined us, you’ll have a partner for the semester project!”

The words on the book in front of you sear into your brain. Fuck.

You don’t need to look at Eren to see the expression on his face. Well, at least he was enjoying this.

“Eren, you’re in luck. Your partner is the head of the class, I’m sure she’ll take great care of you.”

“Is that so?” Eren grins, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Are you gonna take care of me, partner?”

Normally, praise for your academic achievements feels great. The circumstances were different in this case. You were certain Eren was going to slack off, let you do all the work and stamp his name on the finished result and take your credit.

You’d prefer that, anyways. Keep your head down. Do your best work. Just get through it.

///

You’re on your way out when a familiar voice calls out your name.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Naturally, you speed up.

Eren matches your pace, walking beside you towards the front gate on campus.

“Jeez, for someone kinda short, you walk fast.”

You sigh in defeat. “Why are you following me?”

“Well, we have that end of semester project, right? When should we go over it?”

“It’s fine, Eren. I can do it and you can sign your name when I’m done. That’s what I was planning on, anyway.”

The brunet grabs your wrist, bringing you to a stop. Heat floods your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears. Who was he to just grab you like that? You turn around, ready to give him an earful, but the expression on his face makes you pause. It wasn’t anger, but something closer to determination.

“I’m not gonna make you do it alone. What kinda guy do you take me for? Let’s just exchange contact info and we can plan something.”

You wanted to argue back but you couldn’t find the words. Being around Eren steals the words right from you.

“Fine,” you grumble, fishing around in your bag for something to write your number on – a convenience store receipt – and a pen to write it with. You print your number on the back and hand it to Eren, who studies the receipt curiously.

He laughs from his chest. “Damn, how many bags of gummy worms do you need?”

You groan.

“None of your business.”

“I’m much more of a gummy bear fan myself. It’s a texture thing, and I like that they’re bite size.”

“Good for you.”

Eren smiles and stuffs the receipt into his pocket, finally releasing his grasp on your arm and starting on past you. “We’ll be in touch, partner!”

////

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: Hey, it’s Eren Jaeger.

You tap out a quick answer.

You: When do you wanna talk about the project?

Inviting Eren home wasn’t the best idea. Your parents were strict, and besides, you just met the guy. You weren’t exactly ready to invite him into your home, and who knew what would await you at his? Maybe you could set up at a park somewhere.

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: You hungry? I’m feeling like a burger.

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: Sent location.

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: It’s not too far. Meet here?

You: That works.

You remind yourself to text your parents about your plans. It shouldn’t be a problem seeing as it’s for school.

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: It’s a date.

You: It’s a study session.

The walk wasn’t inconvenient – skip your usual turn, walk another block north, apologize a dozen times to the cars you weave through in the parking lot. When you arrive, you notice Eren already seated with a tray of food in front of him, a fry dangling from his mouth and gaze fixed on his lap.

You help yourself into the booth across from him.

“You got here fast.”

His lips twitch up in a smirk as he chows down on the fry.

“Or you got here slow, shortstack.”

“Let’s not make that a thing.”

Eren gestures towards his food, silently offering it to you, but you shake your head.

“So what do you want to do the project on?” He asks through a mouthful of fried potato mush.

“Well I was planning on making a heart monitor. They’re pretty easy to make if you just do a cheap one. Then I was going to write a report alongside it explaining what it is and how it works.” You explain, feeling your shoulders begin to relax.

You had already gotten started on the project so you were praying he wouldn’t want to pick something else. He listens intently while you explain to him how exactly it worked and what was needed still.

“Sounds cool.”

Eren picks off the rest of his food while you walk through the project together, pulling your notes from your backpack and explaining everything you had done so far, including a diagram you were rather proud of.

Conversation lulls into a comfortable silence. You don’t realize your pen is missing until you notice Eren absentmindedly doodling on an unused napkin.

“What school did you go to?”

“Okay, Miss ‘I heard the introduction’,” Eren teases. “Uh, Maria Reformatory.”

Your brow quirks. His expression remains concentrated on his masterpiece, bangs falling in front of his eyes while he gnaws at the straw in his empty drink.

“Reformatory? What did you do?”

Green eyes flick up to yours momentarily before looking back down. For a moment, you kick yourself. Maybe it’s a touchy subject, don’t be nosy.

Eren doesn’t seem bothered.

“I wasn’t a good student. It’s nothing much, just got into fights, drank and smoked. Teenager stuff, you know how it is.”

You shake your head. “I don’t, actually.”

Eren laughs through his nose. “Besides, my grades were already shit. Those things were just the final straw.”

You wet your bottom lip, fingers idly tapping on the table.

Eren took slight notice. He stops drawing and slides the napkin away from him. His expression remained neutral as he leaned back in his chair to fully face you.

“Fights? Like, physical fights?”

Eren laughs dryly.

“Does that scare you?”

You pick something that looks close to pride on his face. For being sent to a reformatory, it sure doesn’t seem like he learned much.

“My best friend used to get picked on a lot. He’s kinda like you, actually. Short, bookish type. Anyway, it really pissed me off. I’m not the kind of guy that can just stand there while someone treats my friends like shit.”

“So you stopped drinking and smoking?” You ask.

Eren shifts, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Just learned how to hide it better.”

He really didn’t learn anything. You heave out an exasperated sigh, but keep pressing.

“What are you doing here then?”

“My mom wanted a fresh start for me, figured moving might help.”

You hum quietly in understanding.

You chat idly for another half hour before your phone buzzes under your thigh.

Incoming call from: Mom.

Your heart sinks as it dawns on you – you forgot to text your parents.

“Ah,” you start nervously. “I’ve gotta get home.”

“Want me to walk you?” Eren asks casually.

“No, it’s okay.”

“You sure? It’s getting dark out, what if some creep tries to grab you?”

Against your better judgment, you give in.

While the two of you gather your things, your eye catches on the napkin he was drawing on. It didn’t look half bad. It was a flower with designs around it, the art oddly calming after hearing his tales from his old school. You grab the napkin when he isn’t looking, sliding it into your backpack. As you pack up, an odd feeling curls up in your stomach. Would he notice you took the drawing? Would he care? As you make your way to the exit, Eren holds the door on your way out.

////

You stop a block down from your house. Even from afar, you can see the light on in the entryway, and your parents’ cars in the driveway. Eren is rambling about some cartoon series when you interrupt him.

“Here is fine,” you murmur, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m just down the street.”

Eren raises a brow suspiciously. You answer before he can ask.

“I’m already in trouble for being late. If my parents see me with a boy, they’re gonna flip.”

“Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

////

You did not see Eren tomorrow. Or the day after.

Everything was radio silent.

The prospect of having to deal with a new kid made you nervous at first, but you felt more at ease after getting to know him better. It was sort of ironic, in a way. You learned that Eren was a bad kid who liked to smoke and drink. Why did that make you feel more comfortable? If anything it should stress you out even more. He’s a bad influence. Maybe it was because he was being honest. Honesty is hard to come by nowadays.

It looked like you would end up having to do the project on your own after all. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you were planning on doing this alone anyways… So why did you feel let down?

////

The project is due tomorrow.

You’re hunched at your desk in your room, bottom lip pinched between your teeth. The heart monitor was more or less put together, and the written report just had a couple hundred words left before it was ready to submit.

You knew you could do it by yourself, but it still would’ve been nice to have help.

You open your files, ready to hammer out the final details.

“Wait, where is it?” You hum to yourself, scrolling a little too far in your files for your comfort.

You try typing in the file name, only for your screen to taunt you back: no files found.

You could have sworn you saved it under that.

Your fingers shake from anxiety. Frantically, you type variations, thinking you might have saved it under something else. It’s no use.

“You have to be joking. Where is it?”

At first it was mere nervousness, but now you’re in a full blown panic.

“No, no, no!” You chant to yourself.

Weeks of work, all down the drain. Did you save something on top of it? If that was the case, it was lost forever.

Hopelessness washes over you. What were you gonna do?

You’re about to accept your impending doom, no doubt get a failing grade on the assignment and lose your spot at the top of your class when you hear something clatter against your window.

Your gaze snaps to the window, confused, until you watch something hit your window again.

A twig? What the fuck?

You approach the window and slide it open, about to stick your head out when another twig narrowly misses your face.

“Shit, my bad!” Eren calls out, voice a little too loud for your liking.

“Eren?”

There’s no fucking way.

You look behind you, expecting your parents to open your door at any minute but they don’t.

“What are you doing here?”

“The project is due tomorrow, I came by to help.”

You watch in awe as Eren heaves himself up, scaling the trellis alongside your house until he reaches your bedroom window, his face inches from yours. Light work for him. No reaction.

“What is wrong with you?” You yell in a hushed tone, hoping the rustling foliage and thump of his feet against the house didn’t wake your parents.

Eren grins.

“A lot of things, I thought you already knew that.”

Wordlessly, you step out of the way so Eren could help himself in your room.

If you weren’t so pissed you would have been impressed. Your room was on the second floor, and he’s barely breaking a sweat.

Eren looks around your room, noticing the aforementioned heart monitor sitting on your bedroom floor and an open laptop on your desk, alongside a ripped-open pack of gummy worms.

“So, what’s left to do?”

“You really think I would leave things left to be done until the night before it’s due?”

His brow raises. “Uh, maybe?”

You sigh and cross your arms, eyes dropping to your feet.

“It was almost done, but I lost the report. It needs to be rewritten completely.”

“Okay great, I’ll do that and you finish whatever it was you were doing here.” He carefully steps over the monitor and settles in your chair.

“You can’t just write a whole report in one night.”

Eren meets your gaze, grinning. “I like a challenge. Sit back and watch, shortstack.”

He starts typing at a quick pace.

////

You pause your work on the monitor and look up at Eren. His eyes glide over his work, his chin propped in his hand. His other hand helps itself to your gummy worms – a small price to pay for his help.

“What happened to you anyway? You totally disappeared on me, it kinda sucked.”

“Got grounded.”

“What’d you do?”

“Left some weed in my pocket. My mom went to do some laundry and it made a huge fucking mess in the washer, so I lost my phone.”

You let out an incredulous chuckle and he turned from the screen to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Get it all out.”

“I thought you said you were better at hiding it?”

Eren grins. You can’t help but mirror him.

Sure he was annoying, but you liked his company whether you would admit it or not.

////

You didn’t know you fell asleep until your morning alarm woke you up.

You must have taken yourself to bed at some point in the night. Forcing your bleary eyes open, you notice Eren’s figure hunched over your desk, still snoozing.

Bangs hit against your door and you nearly jump from your skin.

“Honey? You’re still asleep?”

You throw a stuffed animal at Eren’s head, waking him up with a snort.

“I-I’m awake!” You call back.

You sigh in relief that your door was locked. If your parents came in and saw a boy sleeping in your room, you were gonna be in a whole world of trouble, way worse than a failing grade on an assignment.

“Okay! I heard you snoring. Maybe you’re getting sick. Breakfast will be downstairs.”

Your mom’s voice trailed away as you hear her descend the stairs again.

Eren’s awake by now, rubbing his tired eyes with a yawn. “I want breakfast.”

“You fell asleep in here?”

“So did you.”

“It’s my room!”

Eren shrugs and checks his phone, the battery almost drained. “Shit, it’s almost seven. I don’t have time to go back home. Guess I’ll go straight to school.”

He rises to his feet and stretches, reminding you of a cat. “Want me to wait outside for you?”

“No, I’ll see you in class. Try not to lose the report.”

Eren reaches for the handle of your bedroom door. You smack his hand and look up at him incredulously.

“Take the window!”

////

It was almost kind of funny. You’ve spent these last few weeks so nervous about the presentation, but when the time finally came, you felt relaxed. Maybe it was Eren’s influence encouraging you to take a breath for once.

Eren takes the lead, reading the report aloud while you attach the nodes of your handmade monitor for the demonstration. Once he was finished, you turn it on, the monitor instantly coming to life, projecting Eren’s steady heartbeat. You lean forward to reposition one of the nodes, not wanting it to slip. You don’t realize how close you are until Eren’s breath hits your face. He’s looking directly at you.

“It works.” He says matter of factly.

“You didn’t have faith in me?”

“Of course I did.”

Of all the times you’ve seen Eren smile, you’ve never seen one quite like this. It felt softer, genuine. The kind of smile you can’t help but mirror back until the pace of Eren’s heart rate accelerates, filling the room with a racing thump thump thump.

Your teacher claps, signaling the end of your presentation.

You end up with an A on the project, not unfamiliar for you, but it felt more rewarding this time around.

////

Eren meets you outside your last class. Immediately, you notice he’s holding something behind his back. Something he’s trying to keep secret as he pivots slightly when you approach him, wanting to obscure this surprise even more.

“Hey, Eren,” you greet, mildly suspicious.

“How was your day?”

“I’m so ready to go home.”

There’s a crinkle as he extends his arm, offering a familiar brightly colored bag to you.

Sour gummy worms.

“These are for you, by the way.”

You snatch the bag of candy, inspecting it closely. “For me?”

Eren cocks his brow. “You think I’m trying to poison you?”

“Or drug me,” you tease, though your tone is dry. “Don’t they make candy edibles like these?”

Eren laughs, a throaty chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest, and tilts his head in amusement.

You really, really like Eren’s laugh.

“I’m not giving you edibles. Shit’s expensive. I just remembered you like those, and you worked really hard on the project, so. You deserve it.”

You stuff the bag in your backpack, finally deeming them safe.

“I’m surprised you remembered I like them.”

“Obviously.”

Eren walked you home, babbling on about his day, about cartoons, sometimes picking on you. You found it a little annoying, constantly having this guy follow you around, but his presence became a comfort to you. You thought you’d be done with him once the project was over, but you quickly learned Eren had no intention of backing off. He wanted to walk you home.

Guys usually weren’t nice to you. Unless this was all a ploy, which was possible. Maybe he just wanted to make you look stupid. Time will tell.

As you sat in bed that night, you looked at the crumpled bag of candy, and something akin to gratitude bloomed in your chest. You tear open the packet, picking a blue and red worm first and popping it into your mouth.

How odd, you think.

Whatever.

You ate the candy that night, and you could’ve sworn that it somehow tasted sweeter than usual.

~~~

-Current-

“Hey there.”

You open your eyes to find a man who is definitely not Eren standing in front of you.

He runs a hand through his bleach blond hair and flashes you a mischievous look in his dark brown eyes. The kind that makes you clutch your drink closer to your chest. The buzz in your body becomes a shiver as you shift uncomfortably.

“Hey,” your tone is curt, borderline uninviting. Eren said to make friends, but you were certain this stranger didn’t come to you just for a conversation.

“What’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?”

“I’m not alone, I’m actually–”

“So your friends just left you here?” He takes a step closer to you, backing you against the counter and grabbing the cup from your hand, ditching it on the counter. “Come hang out with me instead.”

“I’m good actually, I think I’m just gonna stay here.” You put on a brave front, begging your voice not to betray you.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. I can show you a good time.” He grabs your now unoccupied hand and leans in closer, close enough that the acrid scent of beer, cigarettes and sweat fills your senses with his every exhale and you tilt your head away to escape the smell.

“Hey man, she said she’s good.”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Eren’s voice. You look at him with wide eyes, silently asking for help.

The blond bares his teeth in a sardonic smile.

“Who’s this? Your guard dog?”

Eren’s brow twitches. It’s one of his tells, a sign that his patience is wearing thin. You know better than to provoke Eren with the temper he has. It almost makes you feel sorry for the blond if he wasn’t actively harassing you.

“Yeah and I bite, now back the fuck off.”

His sweaty hand tightens on yours.

“I’m good, man.”

“I said get the fuck off.”

Eren charges forward and shoves the man away from you by his shoulders. He stands between you like an impenetrable wall, towering over the man who fucked around with Eren Jaeger’s temper and was about to find out.

The man staggers back, hitting the opposite countertop. He brushes off his wounded pride with a scoff.

“Lay off dude, I’m just trying to get laid like everyone else here. You can have her, she’s a fucking prude anyways.”

You could choke on the tension building in the air. Eren is seething.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I’m just trying to get my dick wet but this stuck up bitch isn’t cooperating.”

The insult might’ve stung if you weren’t so terrified of what was going to happen next. Eren’s gaze lowers, eyes intense like he’s contemplating something while fidgeting idly with the thick metal band on his middle finger. Like he’s making a choice.

“Is that so?”

You feel a chill run down your spine at the poison laced in Eren’s voice.

“Yeah, have her to yourself. That is if you can get her to spread her legs for you-“

Eren made his choice. His fist connects with the blond’s cheek, skin splitting under his ring, making him stagger and clutch his face. It takes only a second for his expression to shift from shock to pure rage.

Not even a second after you get out of the way, the stranger charges forward and throws Eren onto the counter by the front of his shirt. His fist slams into Eren’s nose with an audible crunch.

Eren’s knee shoots up, nailing his opponent in the balls hard enough to make even you grimace. Low blow. The man swears loud, doubling over in pain, and Eren takes advantage by uppercutting the blonde in the eye.

The quarrel gathers a small group of people into the kitchen, their murmurs drowning out the House music blasting in the other room.

The man lands a hit on Eren’s brow, splitting the skin, bright red blood immediately gushing towards Eren’s eye.

“Porco!”

You hear another man shout from behind you.

The man you now recognize as Porco turns around towards the voice. Eren pushes up, but Porco is too slow to react. Fists continue to fly while Reiner pushes his way through the crowd, nudging you out of the way to separate the two.

“Galliard! Jaeger! Step off!” Reiner’s voice bellows. He grabs Porco by the scruff, like a kitten, yanking him backwards.

“He’s fucking crazy!” Porco spits out, his face battered and bruised in mere seconds.

Eren’s eyes still narrow in on Porco.

“Ren, come on.” You murmur, grabbing onto his arm.

At first, Eren doesn’t budge under your hands. It takes a couple of tries before he allows you to drag him out, eyes never once leaving Porco. You don’t let go of his arm until you’ve exited the house, when your feet finally make contact with the sidewalk, finally trusting that he won’t go running back.

“What the fuck was that Eren?”

His silence had never been so loud. His body heaves with every breath, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

“You can’t just beat people up!”

“He was being a fucking dick!”

You start down the sidewalk, choosing to ditch your car for the night. The last thing you need is to be pulled over for intoxicated driving, no matter how sober you felt after that altercation. Your hand remains tight around Eren’s. The neighborhood looks different at night but you piece together your location. The campus convenience store is nearby – you’ve been there countless times before with Eren, whether to get a quick lunch or to load up on snacks before horror movie screenings at the local theater. You could probably walk the aisles blindfolded.

Eren’s forced to wait outside as you didn’t want to scare the shop owner, or track blood all over his tile floors. Antibiotic cream, bandaids, and a pack of frozen peas. You can make do with this.

You leave the bodega, fishing through the plastic bag slung over your arm.

“Here,” you toss the pack of frozen peas over your shoulder for Eren to catch. “Put these on your nose, the cold will help with the swelling in the meantime. I’ll clean you up when I can find a good place to sit.”

Eren obliges, trailing behind you, pouting like a scolded child.

Just around the corner is a residential park, one you had spent countless hours in despite neither of you actually living in that neighborhood. It’s empty at this time of night, and a quiet spot to sit down was ideal.

You force Eren to sit on a swing, standing between his splayed legs. Like a baby giraffe, you think. He trains his eyes up at you while you get to work, still holding the frozen peas against his nose.

You uncap the antibiotic ointment and tend to the wound on his brow. It looks like it stings, you try your best to not wince at the thought, but Eren’s face remains unchanging. Just staring up at you with emerald eyes, looking almost a little reflective. You’re sure he’s still thinking about the fight, replaying it in his head like a highlight reel of Eren Jaeger’s best hits.

Silence settles between you. There were so many words you wanted to say, but you had no idea where to start.

Sighing, you settle on: “Why’d you do it?”

Eren’s answer is unsatisfyingly simple. “He was being a dick to you.”

“I could’ve handled it myself.”

“Yeah,” Eren scoffs, tone laced with sarcasm. “You seemed to be doing a great job at that.”

You bite your tongue and rip a bandage out of its paper to cover up the wound, then observe your handiwork.

It’s late. You’re tired, the buzz has long since worn off. Wordlessly, you slump into the adjacent swing.

“Touché.”

Eren’s demeanor shifts into one more casual, his anger fizzled out.

“Why don’t you stand up for yourself?”

“Maybe I don’t wanna make a scene. It’s not a big deal anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

You feel your stomach tighten. Ever since the day you met Eren, he was always so understanding of you. He looked out for you.

You sigh, idly tracing marks in the sand with your foot. You had been to this same park countless times before, making these same shapes in the sand, but tonight felt different.

“Why do you care so much?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

From the corner of your eye you see Eren’s long legs stretch forward in front of him. He produces a carton of pre-rolled cigarettes from his pocket and slots one between his lips. His thumb strikes the wheel of his lighter once, twice, before producing a flame that illuminates his face. You watch silently as he lights the end of his joint, exhaling that first cloud of smoke into the night air.

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. It wasn’t like you were unaware that you were his best friend, but Eren wasn’t the most sentimental person. He wasn’t one for vocalizing his thoughts, or being mushy about his feelings. You knew this about him, so his sincerity always struck you. Every once in a while he would say something that caught you by surprise, making your breath seize in your lungs.

Eren was a lot of things – brash, impulsive, and annoying – but he also cared about you like nobody else.

The pungent, earthy smell quickly hits your nose. When you first started hanging out with Eren, you couldn’t stand the smell. Your nose would pinch up in disgust while you watched him get high, but now the scent became familiar to you. It was something comforting, like late nights in the summer when you had no agenda. Like walks to the nearby store to stock up on candy, or deep conversations underscored by low music.

It reminded you of Eren.

It reminded you of home.

“Wow,” you glance at Eren, lips cracking a smile. Your hands hold the swing chains tight, the cold metal biting into your palms.

“What?”

“Never would have pegged you for such a sentimentalist, Eren.”

“You don’t peg me at all.” He responds.

You try to hold back a smile but it shows through. No matter what, you’re determined to continue poking fun at him.

“Who knew you had such a bleeding heart.”

Eren rolls his eyes, a smile threatening to break around the joint. He plucks it from his mouth for a breath of fresh air instead, the silver of his rings glinting in the moonlight. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious. Did you pull that from a movie? Maybe overhear someone else say it?” You keep poking lightheartedly.

“You’re the one who asked. Plus, you know you love me.”

At this point you break eye contact, settling on the moon instead.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

You meant it too.

You weren’t sure when Eren started to matter so much to you. At first he was unbearable – a delinquent who’s favorite pastime was pestering you – but slowly, he turned into a face you expected to see at every turn. Not having his presence felt unsettling, and you found yourself dreading classes without him.

Eren extends the hand holding the joint. He still offers, knowing you always decline.

“Want some?”

“No thanks.”

“Okay. Just thought I’d ask. What with me being a sentimentalist and all.”

The two of you laugh softly. It always felt like this with Eren. Easy. You had your habits and he had his, just like anyone else, but your friendship felt just as easy as breathing. It was hard to imagine what your life was like before him.

Eren ditches his finished joint into the sand, squashing it down under his shoe.

“Wanna go somewhere else? I feel bad inviting you to that lame ass party. I think the lanes are still open, or the arcade.”

The thought was tempting. You did love going to the arcade. It may not seem like much to anyone else, but it felt special to you. Good music, timeless classics, and an owner that hooked you up with extra tokens as a thank you for keeping the business alive. Not far from that was the bowling alley. Neither of you were good at bowling, if anything, you’ve probably watched Eren accidentally throw himself down the lane more than the actual ball.

As nice as hanging out longer sounded, a feeling of responsibility gnaws inside you.

“I shouldn’t,” you sigh. “I have a test coming up.”

“A test on a Friday night?” Eren questions.

“No, it’s in a couple days. I know you don’t know this but there’s a thing called studying that people sometimes do when they care about academics.”

“Studying?” Eren plays along with your bit, sounding out the word like it’s unfamiliar to him. “I don’t know, I think my method works just fine.”

“Just winging it? Yeah, right. It’s a miracle you’ve made it this far, Eren Jaeger.”

Eren is the first to stand up.

“Always so cruel to me.” He fakes a somber face.

“Sure I am,” you stand as well, smoothing out your clothes. “Walk me back?”

///

The walk back is pleasant, though the cold is biting. There weren’t many students on campus around this time, with winter break quickly approaching. Anyone who wasn’t already home for the holidays was either tucked away in their dorms, or out partying. As for you, ending the semester meant drowning in a sea of tests. You were looking forward to a break.

Eren walks beside you, hands in his pockets. He didn’t live on campus, so you appreciate him walking with you. Eren had a small apartment a couple blocks away, a graduation gift from his parents who were amazed he made it out of high school. It was a comfortable place for you to hang out, seeing as your dorm wasn’t exactly fit for hosting.

It wasn’t that your dorm was inhospitable to say, however it wasn’t exactly the marriott either. Eren referred to it as the pig sty, but you thought he was exaggerating when he said that. Sure you would occasionally leave some clothes here and some trash there, but it was under control. In your opinion at least. You didn’t have time to keep things spotless. You were running yourself thin between school, work, and Eren. He could be considered a full time job all by himself.

Eren’s house was nicer anyway. The furniture was simplistic and things were never left out. It seemed like the opposite of what you would expect for someone like him. You had two theories on why things were spotless at his bachelor pad. One, his doting mother Carla raised him to be tidy. His house was never messy growing up so he got used to it. Two, Eren constantly had… how do you say, lady friends over frequently. Couldn’t get laid if your house was a mess. Either way, his place was nice and yours was not.

Your strides slow as you approach the dorm building, pulling your key card from your wallet and tapping it on the lock, hearing it whirr and click, the light flashing green. You reach for the handle but Eren beats you to it, holding the door open for you. The warm air flows from inside the building, fanning across your cold face, the sensation prickling your skin.

“I’m sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to stand you up, that was a dick move of me.”

“Psh, it’s okay,” you shrug. “All things considered, I’d say I had a fun night.”

You hear a ding further down the hallway where the elevator stood. Metal doors open to reveal two girls about your age chatting inside. Their eyes lock with Eren’s, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.

The girls pass by as you enter the building, whispering and giggling to each other when they catch sight of Eren. He flashes a grin and flicks his eyes up and down as they leave before returning his attention back to you. It’s nothing new. You weren’t blind, even you could admit Eren was good looking – and you weren’t stupid either. Eren’s love life is a never-ending story. A long list of girlfriends, and an even longer list of hookups. You had long gotten used to the shameless flirting.

You and Eren make your way to the elevator. Your finger presses into the button, a comfortable silence falling over you as you wait.

The elevator dings. Your feet only need to move so far before you find yourself at the familiar front door, decorated in construction paper cut-outs with your name written in sharpie. You lean against the doorway, arms crossed over your chest.

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” Eren asks. “I work from 10 to 2.”

Eren works at a small smoke shop by campus. All of the other employees were students as well, and most of the customers were also students with drooping eyes. You weren’t sure how it began, but you had a tradition of going to Eren’s work to drop him off lunch when he worked. You didn’t go every time he had a shift, but often enough.

“Of course, I’ll bring you lunch. Want anything special?”

“Nah, surprise me.”

You pull Eren into a hug, eyes fluttering shut as his scent fills your senses. Spices, smoke with a subtle bite. His arms squeeze around yours before withdrawing, sending you off with a pat on your back.

“Okay! Get home safe. Try not to get into any more fights on the way home.”

“No promises!” Eren calls from over his shoulder as he starts down the hallway. You click your tongue, watching as he enters the elevator and disappears behind the doors, smiling the entire time.

The lock clicks behind you. Tiredness hits you all at once, feet dragging the short distance from your front door to your bed until you flop down in it, pulling your laptop off your nightstand and squinting at the bright screen. Sleep was calling your name, but you were already behind on studying and didn’t want to spend your winter break making up for a failed test.

At least 15 minutes. Yeah, that won’t hurt.

You stretch a couple of times, trying to force the exhaustion from your body.

You make it as far as logging into the student portal before your phone lights up beside you, and you don’t even try to resist the distraction. It could only be one person at this time of night.

Eren: What’s up?

You: I don’t know, you texted me.

Dots appear on your screen, then disappear. You can picture him now, walking down the sidewalk with one hand holding his phone, the other probably holding a lit cigarette. You can picture the smoke and warm breath puffing into the air as he laughs.

Eren: Do you miss me horribly yet?

You accept that studying is futile and shut your laptop, instead flopping over and letting your back hit the mattress. Laying down has never felt so good.

You: Yes, I’m beside myself right now.

Eren: I can always turn back around. The night is still young.

You: No, my bed is calling my name. Goodnight, Eren.

Eren: I was gonna make something to eat but I’m not sure what.

You: I said goodnight, Eren.

Eren: You’re no fun.

The screen starts to blur as your eyes droop, body succumbing to exhaustion. Your arm goes limp, dropping onto your chest. You feel your phone buzz once more before falling asleep.

Eren: Goodnight shortstacks.

Tag List: @dinolvrrr, @constawrites

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic or any of my other fics please let me know, jus specify what you want to be added to

#my writing #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #yaeger x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger x you #jaeger x you #eren yaeger x you #yaeger x you #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x you #aot x you #attack on titan #aot #tw drug use #tw alcohol

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otrtbs · 3 months

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ an otrtbs submission for the @sillylovesongsfest ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

prompt: pierre by ryn weaver

jarty croucher | t | 4.1k | slightly sexual themes and recreational drug use

Barty rolls over and groans at the sun-soaked tent he finds himself in. It’s sweltering hot and the thin cotton top sheet of the makeshift bed clings to his sticky skin. The tent is too bright and it smells sour with stale tobacco and weed.

It would be enough to make Barty vomit if there was anything left in his stomach.

There’s sand everywhere.

“It’s so fucking humid in here,” he groans, as his brain pounds against his skull. “I can’t breathe.”

A voice in the bed next to him makes him jump.

“It rained last night, remember?”

Barty turns to see a head of nearly white curly hair fanning out over the blue tarp next to him. A girl, no, the girl from last night laying on her stomach, still half-asleep.

“Fucking torrential.”

Barty didn’t remember. Not really.

The night before was coming back to him in bits and pieces. Alcohol-soaked frames of cognizance.

He remembers fighting with James again. Screaming so loud that his voice was hoarse and his throat was scratchy. This time was the last time. Never come back here again. He remembers hearing about some giant rager in the desert. Something about celebrating the blood moon. There were caravans of people and bonfires and music by the time Barty showed up.

He remembers not knowing anyone there. Heard from a friend of a friend. He was a drifter. A party crasher. None of that mattered once he was there though. A group of people pulled him in like they’ve known him his entire life, and soon enough he had a cup of something that burned his throat in his hand and a girl dragging him closer to the fire.

He remembers the brutal sun casting heat waves so violent that everything seemed to shimmer and dance slightly around him. Pockets of sun-induced water appeared just beyond the sand dunes and disappeared by the time Barty walked over to them.

He drank until the sun went down, he took everything offered to him. He sweats out all of the vodka in his system just to down more in a steady stream. He barely recalls the red moon rising high above him, ruddy and ominous.

When the desert got cold, that’s when the real party started.

Some man’s hand around his throat, some girl’s tongue in his mouth. Everything pulsating and dully muted around him. Bodies pressing up against his, hands through his hair, a settling chill to cool the sticky heat.

The girl pulls away. Stark white hair like an angel in the desert. Billowy white clothes like a ghost.

And Barty wants to be haunted.

Sand slipping through his hands. She weaves in and out of the crowd once she decides she’s done with him, but he follows as closely as he can.

Eventually, she stops and turns around again, the shadows from the fire flicker on her face.

“I have something to help with dullness,” she shouts over the noise, the people, the music, the blood rushing in his head.

“What?” He hadn’t realized he’d said that part out loud.

She sticks out her tongue so Barty can see a little white tab with a smiley face on it. It has three eyes, and one of them winks at him.

He puts his mouth on hers in grateful acceptance and the tab finds its way under his tongue.

“Who are you?” Barty asks, voice reverent as he eyes the tattoo on her shoulder. Little horns inked into her skin. “An angel?”

She laughs as she pulls him closer. Her nails are sharp like claws and for a second Barty thinks she might rip him apart. Feels like he’s been caught. Her teeth sharp and glinting at the sight of his throat.

“Maybe I’m the devil.”

That’s where his memory ends. For the most part.

He holds a hand up to his sore lip and winces. Runs his tongue over it and tastes the dried blood.

“Fuck,” he groans.

The girl sits up and as soon as Barty sees her pale green eyes blinking back at him he smiles.

“Pandora.”

“Hm. So you do remember.”

“Vaguely,” Barty croaks through chapped lips. “I can’t believe I slept in a tent in the desert on the floor.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You look like you do this all the time. No offense.”

“None taken,” Barty sighs, as he examines his stinging palm to see a raw and, now dried, bloody cut spanning the lifeline on his skin. “What the fuck?”

“It was the sacrifice to the moon,” Pandora supplies breezily as Barty moves to stand up.

“Right, whatever that fucking means,” Barty brushes her off.

Maybe he should be more concerned about the whole ordeal, but he wasn’t. It was actually…fun. A good release of energy.

He would’ve hated it.

He would’ve insisted that Barty stay the night at his place instead. Entertain him with something less risky. Something more self-serving.

Barty shakes his head to clear his thoughts. At least last night he hadn’t thought of him at all. Now, the harsh light of the morning was screwing things up again.

Pandora helps him search the sand and surrounding tents for his keys and his wallet, and some various other items before she points him in the right direction and Barty makes the trek back up the road to his car.

She tells him there’s another party next month. He tells her he’ll think about it.

The drive back is quiet. Barty doesn’t turn on the radio, it’ll only aggravate his already pounding head.

Instead, he thinks.

What would he think if Barty told him what he did?

Told him he held out his bleeding palm to the fire and listened as the blood sizzled on the rocks and wood beneath it. Told him he danced in the desert in the pouring rain and slept in a sandy tent as the alcohol coursed through his system. Told him he stayed out all night, not bothering to call home. Not bothering to tell a single other person where he was.

He’d be appalled. He’d probably sigh in disappointment, or better yet, he’d yell when Barty finally bothered to answer his call the next week.

It’s not Barty’s fault that James liked him because he was rough around the edges. Too sharp to hold onto without bleeding. Too impulsive to see a long-term future with. Too mean to have breakfast with the next morning.

It’s why it was fun. Something with an expiration date. Manufactured good times in a bottle– consequence-free-fucking.

But then it got confusing.

Barty wishes he would call. But he’s thankful he doesn’t.

A few weeks later, Barty finds himself at the front row of some dive bar-turned-concert-venue sipping a warm and flat beer. The place is crowded and loud, and the air is warm with the stench of alcohol and weed. He’s pretty sure someone in the back is giving out makeshift tattoos for five dollars. He’s pretty sure he’s gonna take the guy up on the offer after the show.

Some girl, in a poor attempt to dance, knocks into him and sends his beer sloshing over the side of his cup and onto the floor.

He doesn’t really mind though. Because it’s that occurrence that causes the bass player to look at him. Really look at him as he sways along to the music, and nods his head to the beat.

Barty gives a small smirk and raises his plastic cup in response and the bass player smirks back at him. A challenge. A dare. One that Barty knows well.

Barty watches him all night. Dark, muscled arms strumming along, plucking the strings. He’s so close Barty can see his short paint chipped fingernails and calloused hands. His hair bleached almost white, falls in twists that he shakes every once in a while as they fall in front of his eyes. His lips mouth the words to the song the frontman is singing. His body moves to the beat of the drummer, and his eyes shine like he’s doing it all for Barty. And maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s because Barty has always been Barty, but as the night progresses he starts to actually believe it is all for him.

When the set is over, Barty follows the bassist out back into the cooling night.

“You played really well up there,” he called after the man, causing him to turn around.

“Oh yeah?” The man smirked.

“Yeah. I’m Barty.”

“Evan.”

“Watched you all night.”

And that’s all it took really before Evan had him pressed up against some cold stone brick wall in a back alleyway.

Barty spends the better part of two months with Evan. They travel to different venues in the surrounding towns. They sleep all day and stay out all night as Evan plays his shows. Evan teaches him how to steal from unsuspecting store clerks. Barty shows him how to pick any lock. He lets Evan trace the scar on his palm over and over again. They’re high for most of it. Barty pierces Evan’s septum. Evan pierces his eyebrow. He travels with the band and plays the part of groupie dutifully.

It was much longer than his one-night desert excursion with Pandora, but soon enough the inevitable happened. He gets bored. Evan’s time was up and those soft, disappointed brown eyes flooded his mind once more.

Evan’s hands were calloused but not as rough. He was telling a joke but didn’t laugh the same. He didn’t bite to draw blood. He didn’t press to bruise.

Fuck.

Barty left with little trace. Just a text message telling Evan to text him the next time he was in town playing a show. Evan liked it but otherwise didn’t say a word.

And that was that.

Maybe this was just his way. Maybe he would be perpetually stuck chasing some unknown James shaped hole for the rest of his life. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He could fill it up with other things. He could live with that.

He tries to tell himself he can live with that when it happens. His phone buzzes. Again and again and again and again and Barty stares at the caller ID displaying a number he’s more than familiar with. He answers it with a shameful eagerness but doesn’t speak.

“Hello?”

“Did you mean to call me?” Barty croaks out in the deadened air.

A stuttering pause. “Yeah. Yeah, hi. How are you?”

Barty lets out a sharp laugh. Too sharp. “How am I? I’m fine, James. How are you?”

“Good,” James tried to say brightly, but Barty could hear the flatness in his voice. “How, um. How have you been?”

“Okay, what the fuck, Bambi. You’re freaking me out. It’s almost four in the morning.”

James laughs at the nickname that was always made to be an insult. Until it wasn’t.

“No, I know. I just…” James trails off and Barty finds himself wishing he would just finish his fucking sentence.

Come on, James. It’s me. You don’t have to be nice to me, remember? That’s the deal. That’s the rule. You can be mean to me. I can take it.

Something in his chest pulls, but Barty opts to ignore it as he takes on his talking-to-James tone: Sarcastic and needle-sharp.

“Miss me that much, Potter?” Barty hears James let in a sharp breath on the other end of the line and pushes on. “What? Are you going to tell me that it’s three in the morning and this is the time I normally come slinking around your place? Miss having someone like me to knock you about a bit? Get a little too rough with you? Fuck you, smoke with you after, and leave before the lights come on?”

“Barty.” He tries not to flinch at the fact that James is using his first name. “That’s not why…I’m calling because–”

But Barty cuts him off before James can say something ridiculous. Something like ‘I’m calling because I care about you,' or 'I’m seeing someone else,' or 'I’m worried for you. This guy’s really great, not at all like you,' or 'I miss you.’

“Well, I can’t come around anymore. I just finished touring around with some bass player and his band all across the state. They just signed to a label they’re about to be huge. And Evan, the bass player, he’s like the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, so.” Barty was aware that he was trying too hard. He could hear it in his own voice, but he was praying it was convincing enough for James. He pulled his lip ring in between his teeth and waited for James to say something.

“Oh, there’s an Evan.”

There was an Evan, kind of.

“Yeah, and he’s great, and I’m great. Never better, actually. So I think you were right to end it when you did. Whatever it was. It’s better this way.” Barty lies.

Barty lies and James goes quiet. It’s unbearable.

“James?”

Do you want to come over?

Why did it take you months to call?

Did you mean what you said when you told me you could never bring me around your friends?

Do you ever miss fighting with me like I miss fighting with you?

Remember when you almost let me pierce your eyebrow? Evan pierced mine a while ago and I thought about you the entire time he was doing it.

His hands aren’t yours wrapped around my throat. He never squeezes hard enough.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

Speak now or forever hold your peace, James Potter.

“Okay, yeah. Sorry, yeah.”

“Okay. Later, bambi.”

Barty clicks the phone before James can respond.

What the fuck was James thinking?

What was he thinking?

Barty would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small pulse of adrenaline at the sound of James’ voice. A small sense of satisfaction that James had broken the silence between them and called first.

He was going to ignore the fact that James had used the gentle voice with him. The voice reserved for a crying child, a terminal patient, or a scared wild animal in the woods. He was going to ignore the fact that James had obviously called him for a reason and Barty had dominated the conversation to keep him from it. And he was definitely going to ignore the curiosity chewing away at his mind about what James would’ve said if only Barty would’ve let him.

No. Instead, he was going to keep on telling James, and himself lies.

He was fine.

He was happy.

He was better than he’s ever been.

Barty walks himself out to his balcony and lights a cigarette as the cool air kisses his face. He recounts his lies over and over again and counts down to the day they might come true.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“What did you say your name was again?” Barty looks at the sandy blonde boy questioningly. He’s got a smattering of freckles and soft eyes that are shining due to the alcohol.

The bar is too loud for a Thursday and Barty wants to leave, but the man just bought him another round and it would be rude to turn it away.

“Peter.”

Barty nods, tilting his new beer towards him. “Well, cheers Peter.”

Peter offers him a smile as he tilts his glass in Barty’s direction and takes a drink, smiling coyly.

They talk for a minute. This is how Barty finds out that Peter is English and has no job and no house. He came into some money and is using it to travel to as many places as he can before the money dries up. He finds places to stay by matching with people on Tinder or Grindr and he’s out by morning exploring the city.

So in other words, he’s trouble. Which is exactly what Barty’s looking for.

Peter has honey-colored eyes and a honey-colored voice to match. Sweet on the surface with something dangerous and reckless buzzing just below the surface.

They stay until the bar closes and they stay until the parking lot clears out, and then when it’s good and dark and empty Barty slaps his motorcycle helmet on over Peter’s head and tosses him the keys.

He stands on the pavement with his arms crossed and watches as Peter starts the engine.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Barty asks skeptically as Peter hesitates.

“Y-yeah.” He calls over the hum of the engine. “ I had a motorbike– have a motorbike back home but it’s in the shop getting repaired.”

Barty nods. “Well, just take her around the parking lot a few times then. Let’s see it.”

In his defense, Peter was the one who had asked to ride it. When Barty brought up his motorcycle, he watched as Peter’s honey-colored eyes went wide as saucers as he asked to see it. To give it a ride. Maybe Barty should’ve been worried that this stranger would just drive off with his bike in the dead of night with no witnesses and leave him stranded, but he was too drunk to care. It would all be just another story to laugh about in the daylight. Moonlight desert rituals and bass players and motorcycle thieves. All because of James fucking Potter.

Barty watches and snickers as Peter clearly has no idea what to do.

James knew how to ride motorcycles. He would take Barty’s sometimes to the only 24-hour corner store to pick up a watered-down black coffee and a new pack of Parliament’s when they ran out. Sometimes an orange or two if they were hungry.

Peter manages to make it around the parking lot twice before a loud pop rings through the air and causes Barty to jump. By the time he can register what’s happening, Peter is already beside him, pale-faced, and apologizing profusely.

He popped a fucking tire.

The blowout was not a gunshot. Thank god.

He lives another day.

Barty gives Peter a once over and determines that he went smashing into the concrete based on the scrapes to his face and his hands, and the tear in his pants at the knees.

For a moment, Peter looks at Barty like he might kick the shit out of him, and maybe Barty should, but the whole thing seems so comical at the moment that he can’t help but burst into delirious laughter.

Of course, someone named Peter that he met in a bar at midnight would ride his motorcycle once and make the tire pop. That was just his luck.

Without thinking about it, he sends a text to James.

‘Motorcycle tire just popped. Fucking shit.’

His phone buzzes almost instantly in his hand.

‘I told you last time the tire needed air. It was only a matter of time. You should’ve let me fill it up.’

Barty watches James type a message for what seems like an eternity. Then a new message.

‘Are you okay?’

Then it’s Barty’s turn to type forever.

‘Never better, bambi.’

He makes Peter call them a cab and tow company to get the bike. It’s the least he could do. Since he thinks it’s his fault the tire blew out, and Barty convinces him that it is.

Barty says they’ll figure it out in the morning and lets Peter stay at his place until the end of the week. Just long enough for him to see that the motorcycle was getting fixed. Long enough to take him around the city and show him all the best places.

They keep in touch for a month at tops and then Peter fades into another memory. Another story to tell. Another person he was with because he wouldn’t be with James.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

On the fourth of July, he meets Regulus at some party in someone’s backyard.

They’re about to start shooting off the fireworks when Barty sees him. Short crop of curly black hair and a downturned frown.

“Not having fun?” Barty smirked in an attempt to make conversation.

“What?”

“Not having fun?”

“Not really.” The boy’s frown deepened. “Not at all.”

“Oh, what the fuck. You’re French?”

“Very astute observation.” The stranger says as he attempts to walk away.

“Sorry. It’s just, why the fuck would you be here if you could be in France? I’m Barty by the way.”

“Regulus,” the stranger sniffs. “And why the fuck would your parents name you Barty if they could pick from any other name in the world?”

Barty grins at Regulus’ accent and his snark. “Got it. No more questions then.”

“No more stupid questions,” Regulus amends.

They stick together the whole evening as Barty attempts to make the Fourth of July fun for the both of them.

He spends a few weeks with Regulus after that. Regulus speaks broken English, something stilted, but sure, and it rings nice in Barty’s ears long after he’s stopped talking. There’s nothing serious between them. They just spend the summer days sun drunk and carefree. Regulus attempts to teach him French. Barty attempts to make this time different. Neither of them are successful.

“I lied,” Regulus says in a passing moment as Barty gets ready to say his final goodbye. “I’m not twenty-three, I’m twenty. Also, my English is perfect. I was just fucking with you.”

Barty just blinks a few times. “Why do you think I would care about that? Regulus, what the fuck.”

Regulus shrugs. “Just thought you should know. You’re not the only one pretending to be something you’re not just for the fun of it.”

And Barty knows it’s fucked up, but he could kiss Regulus all over again.

He adds a pathological liar to his running list of adventures.

When he returns to his apartment, it’s quiet and empty. He tries to tell himself that he’s okay with that, that he likes it best this way, that he’s never been better.

James calls once again.

It’s become a routine of theirs.

James calls and Barty answers. He fills James’ head with all of his exploits, all of his stories, all of the Pandora’s and Evan’s and Peter’s and Regulus’ he’s been with since James. All of the fun he’s had since the last time they spoke.

But he couldn’t ever let any of them in, because James was already there, taking up too much space. Always there, lying in wait.

Barty keeps on telling his lies and James lets him, but they’re still not coming true. Barty’s counting down the days and still feeling more down than ever. He wishes that James would just call his bluff, hear the falseness in his voice, and yell at him for being irresponsible. But he never does.

It’s not until after Emmeline, Fabian, and Narcissa that James gives him another call.

Barty’s in the middle of recounting his latest adventure when James does it. Interrupts him with a knowing scoff.

“Listen, Crouch,” he says just like he used to. He’s fed up. Barty finally managed to press his buttons once more. “Can we stop doing this song and dance now? Drop the act?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Barty sniffs, still trying to get one up on him.

“Oh sure,” James continues, voice flat. “When you’re ready to stop lying to yourself and to me…I was calling to tell you to come around.”

The words land like cement in his stomach.

“To come around?”

Barty’s heart picks up its pace.

It was a bad idea.

It was a horrible idea.

It would put them right back to where they were before.

Fighting and yelling and waiting for the moon to come out to talk to each other. To see each other.

It would end horribly.

They would burn each other up. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. But God, Barty missed how it felt to be on fire.

“Yeah,” James breathes into the phone receiver. “You know the code to get in.”

Barty takes a deep breath.

What did it say about him that it had been all this time, and he still thought about James and his apartment and his soft sheets that were always laundered every day? James’ hands gripping his jaw. James’ laugh when Barty couldn’t find his jeans that had all been but ripped off of him. James’ sharp sneer and clenched jaw when Barty managed to get under his skin.

It doesn’t take too much convincing. Just lighting bolts of flashing memories. Tooth rot that ached too good to let go.

“Alright. Yeah. Fuck it. Fuck it, Bambi.”

There would be plenty of time for lying to himself later.

And one day his lies would come true.

Just not today. And definitely not tonight.

“I’ll come around.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

inspired by the song pierre by ryn weaver

#nat writes #and nat prays to the lord above that this formats correctly #basically do not read if you're opposed to #jarty croucher #bartydora #rosekiller #bartylus #barty x peter #idk if there's even a ship name for that tbh #<- barter LMAO #barty crouch x james potter #recreational alcohol consumption and drug use #if u remember when i said this would be bartylus...mind ur business #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #okay i think that covers the tagging department

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sebsxphia · 1 year

Text

ninety days.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett’s there when you come home with a milestone.

￫ c/w: a/a meetings, c/a meetings, drug and alcohol use and sobriety.

￫ a/n: i went to my first ever cocaine anonymous group tonight and i got a ninety day chip! i was incredibly nervous, but to comfort myself i thought up of this lil’ drabble and i wanted to share it. i hope you enjoy it and it provides any level of comfort to you as well! <3 my ‘sobriety’ masterlist can be found here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

You stepped out of the truck and shut the door behind you. The sound of the door slamming and the jingle of your keys echoed endlessly throughout the empty night sky. Your limbs were restless and your eyes were bleary, but the familiar glow of the porch light drew you closer to home and comfort. Rural Wabang had thus far, no groups and you found yourself having to travel over an hour west for your nearest group. It was worth it though. Worth what was now dangling off your keychain.

“Hey, lover.” You called out to Rhett. You spotted him the moment you stepped inside and kicked off your boots. He was perched on the kitchen table and hunched over. He was engrossed in a book about cabin building you’d got him last Valentine’s.

Rhett looked up, catching your eye and a grin broke out onto his face. You’d walked through that door countless times, but it still made Rhett over the moon to see you home and safe.

“Hey, darlin’. How you doin’? How was it?” Like clockwork, Rhett got up from his seat, gave you a kiss to your chilled lips and you placed yourself down at the kitchen table with your keys.

You hummed in thought, “Good. Davey was there. I haven’t seen him in a while, but he’s getting better. Two weeks clean, I think he said.”

“That’s good. I saw his girl in town, I think they’re tryin’ make it work again.” Rhett replied as he busied himself with getting your half of dinner out of the microwave. Whilst he plated up your food and grabbed you a fork, you drew your attention back to your keys on the kitchen table. You fiddled with them gently and your thumb smoothed over the blue and gold painted chip.

“I got it.”

“Got—” Rhett started to question what you meant as he came up beside you to hand you your plate, but in turn he saw what you were fiddling with. “Oh, baby. You got it.”

The plate was pushed onto the table and Rhett threw his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his warm torso. With your ear pressed up against his chest and through the rumbling vibrations, you could hear an endless string of praises coming from your cowboy. He bent down to press what felt like a million and one kisses to the top of your head before pulling away.

He cupped your soft cheeks in his contrasting rough and calloused hands. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes found their placing and his cobalt blue eyes bore into yours with love. “I’m so proud of you, m’ love.” Your own hands held onto his and gave them a light squeeze in response.

“Thank you, Rhett,” you beamed up at him.

Rhett pulled out the kitchen chair next to you and slung one arm around the back of your chair. He tucked you into his side as you made good work of your dinner, savoring the sweet taste of each bite. “What’d y’ wan’ do? We gotta do somethin’ this evenin’.”

Again, you hummed as you pondered Rhett’s question and the best way to celebrate your ninety days. “Bath. With bubbles and the rose bath bomb.”

Rhett wore a lopsided grin at your playful tone and he pressed another sweet kiss to your temple. “Anything for my sweet cowgirl.”

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takami-takami · 10 months

Text

cw: heavy discussion of substance use. use caution. alcohol, drugs.

"I've seen what that does to people, you know," Keigo says, tenderly tipping the glass bottle away from your lips with a single finger.

"What," you slur. "You gonna judge m'too Kei'?"

You sputter, reaching back to tilt the neck of the empty vase above you, stale tongue darting out to catch whatever droplets will grace your drought. He breathes out through his nose; but soft eyes never waver, nor do they lose their empathy.

It makes you sicker than the booze. You scoff bitterly, an action sober you would balk at as abrasive.

"You'd piss yourself if you saw what else little ol' me used to get their rocks off with," you say. Vulgar, but it gets to the point.

Keigo supposes he can't fault you for saying it so crudely, for wanting to scare him away with the truth. You seem to think the mere image of you, as you are, as you were, is enough to drive him to sickness and disgust.

You wouldn't have deployed that method if it never worked, he realizes. The reality clinks against the glass of his heart, cracking it down its bleeding center.

His mind drifts toward images of his mother, of trash piles and hazy eyes, her mouth wide open under the tap of the pouring sink like a fish out of water. Stumbling off to the bathroom, and back for more to quench her thirst, then right back. Shoulders lined with itches, the buzz of a scratched and bloody scalp.

"Dove," he says, sharp in his throat.

You wince as you turn to meet his eyes, expecting to see disgust for your nest of unkempt hair. You expect him to stand up and slam the door behind him, to look down at you over his nose. You expect him to spit words like "I'd never."

Instead, you find the same smile he always smiles, gazing right your way. His eyes pierce down past your manufactured, false barriers, your puffed up feathers and squawking beak. They lock right on to the finch with the broken wing that lives surrounded, protected by bloodied, barbed wire. He reaches his hands over the gates, cradling it in his palms, lifting it to his nose.

Oh. That's right. He's told you before.

He still loves her.

It stings. The burn of your tearducts, the saltwater streamlined down your dusty cheeks.

You wipe them away with the back of your sleeve, sobbing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't leave me. I-I'll be better, I can be good for you. I'm not dirty, I can wash up—"

He swoops down, murmurs of "baby, baby, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

He thumbs the tears away, cradling you against his firm chest as he hushes you.

"Let's get you cleaned up. Tomorrow, we start over."

#if you even think of clowning on this post just block me!#i hope this reaches the right people. if it does i hope you know i love you #🖋 writing #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #tw substance #tw substance use #tw drugs #tw alcohol

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killemwithkawaii · 1 year

Text

"29 AND I'M FEELIN FINE...~" 🎤🎶🥤

It's my birthday, and we're all going to a karaoke bar to celebrate!! It's your turn to pick, so what song are we singing next, [y/n]?

#k.e.w.k. draws #sally face #fanart #sal fisher #larry johnson #y/n #k.e.w.k. selfships #k.e.w.k. x sally #k.e.w.k. x larry #celery sandwich 🥪💕#tw drug use #tw alcohol #tw unsanitary #KEWK THE BIRTHDAY KING UWU 👑#okay now i can reply to all the happy birthday messages (or at least i can after work sdlkjasdf)

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emjiroki · 2 years

Text

Sero x Reader x Shoto ft Katsuki

Word Count: 5.5k 🤯

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!!!

Trigger warnings: Drug use (weed), Alcohol, cheating, Oral Sex (both giving and receiving), explicit language and scenes, I guess angst?

A/N: My piece for the 'Put 5 on it' Stoner au collab hosted by the most amazing @httphaitani thank you for being so lovely 💕 I hope everyone enjoys Sero was so fun to write

Also full disclosure I don't think Katsuki would be a cheater but I needed a conflict and he's the perfect meanie to pin it on also this is college au too hehe

Your stomach swarmed with butterflies as you settled in against the heated seats of Shoto’s car, the soft smell of his detergent in your nose as you pulled his jacket around you a little tighter. It made this whole situation just a little less sour than it had been five minutes ago. You remembered the gut-wrenching feeling of being two games deep in Beer Pong with Kirishima, music bumping from the Frat house speakers when a snap notification came through from your friend group chat. A pic of Katsuki, your boyfriend of two years, with some bottle blonde slut from the Beta Phi sorority giving him head on the couch. It honestly startled you how quickly you sobered up, demanding someone take you home. Now. When no one had offered up you just grabbed your bag and headed for the door, completely ignoring Katsuki as he tried to ask you where you were going, still fixing his pants, to just “Wait a damn minute”. You had whirled around, face hot and jaw clenched ready to scream at him, but instead, you stuttered a deep breath and, in a surprisingly calm tone, told him that you were done and to go fuck himself. You turned for the door without another word and weaved your way through people to the door, the music still bumping loud enough for your teeth to rattle.

You had only gotten about two blocks when Shoto had pulled up beside you, asking you what you were doing and why you were walking. You had tearfully told him everything that had happened once he had convinced you to get in the car.

“Was he drunk?” Shoto asked, trying to get more information as you dried the last of your tears on a kleenex you grabbed from the box in the center console.

“I don’t know and I don’t care, he fucked up big time and I’m done,” you said actively blocking his number as he tried to call you for the third time.

“I saw the pic and I don’t even know who that was,” He said with a confused drop of his brow.

“Some Tramp,” You snipped looking down at your hands and taking a steady breath, “Who cares”. Both of your Phones were going off, the group chats lighting up with notifications.

“So what were you doing out this late?” you asked after seeing it was nearly eleven and trying to punctuate the silence with something other than buzzing.

“Getting snacks and beer for the weekend,” He said, motioning to the bags in the backseat, “Had to get soba noodles”. You giggled, Shoto really hadn't changed much.

“Living the life huh?” you asked teasingly as you pulled into the driveway of a house you didn’t think any college kid could afford.

“Haha,” Shoto said sarcastically, “You know how overbearing my Father is, this was the compromise for me to go to college out of state, he rents me a house as far from the Fraternity block as possible while still being within a ten-minute drive and I keep straight A’s and get my degree”. You did know how overbearing his dad was, Enji Todoroki monitoring your study sessions in high school many times because he didn’t want Shoto “getting too distracted”. As many times as you both told everyone that there was nothing between you two it seemed as if no one ever believed it, and now being well into your Senior year of college you were starting to not believe it either. Shoto and you had always been around for each other, close friends through high school and then he had surprised you by applying to the same college at the beginning of summer before his internship at his dad’s company.

Seeing him after junior year summer had been like a breath of fresh air, having worked all summer and then attending all of Katsuki’s rush events for the fraternities it had been really busy. Now with all of this going on right before winter break it really started settling in that maybe you liked Shoto as more than just a friend. Your cheeks burned at the thought and your heart thumped a little faster.

“Would you knock on the door? My key fob for the garage isn’t working and I let Sero borrow my house key” Shoto said as he grabbed the couple of market bags full of snacks and drinks from his backseat.

“Sure, Sero’s living with you now? Thought he was staying at the Frat?” You asked as you pulled his coat a little tighter around your body to shield what your tight dress couldn’t.

“Yeah he got sick of dealing with all the events and stuff so he dropped the Frat, still their plug of course,” He said, “Plus he pays the WIFI bill”. You laughed as you went up the few steps to the door, knocking loud enough that if Sero was upstairs he would hear you. It only took a moment for Sero to throw the door open, sweats riding low on his hips and a lit blunt hanging from his long fingers as a bright grin stretched his face.

“Hey, sweet cheeks! Didn’t know you were coming by” He said, pulling you into a one-arm hug, putting the blunt to his lips as he pressed you close enough to smell his cologne.

“I wasn’t originally but Shoto picked me up,” You said, “Did you see the picture?”. Sero looked puzzled.

“Picture? Something going on?”.

“Yeah. The goddamn blowjob seen around the world” You grumbled in annoyance.

“It was only shared in our group chat, not that many people are on there,” Shoto said from behind you.

“Yeah, but it happened in the middle of the party, in front of everyone!” you exclaimed, turning your face into Sero’s shoulder. You felt Sero shift and pull his phone from his pocket as he turned away from the door with you in tow, obviously going to look at the picture.

“Yeah, that’s definitely that chick from Beta Phi, I’ve sold her weed before” Sero confirmed, turning sheepish when he caught your glare, “but I won’t anymore cause she’s a total hoe bag”. You rolled your eyes as he crossed himself in promise, bringing the blunt to your lips.

“Take a drag off that for me sweetheart, make yourself at home”. You kicked your shoes off at the door and took a deep inhale, eyes watering as the smoke burned your lungs. Sero grabbed one of the bags from Shoto and started rifling through it, collapsing back onto the couch with a bag of chips in hand. You followed Shoto into the kitchen, the half blunt still in your fingers as he set the bags on the counter. You angled the blunt to him, blushing a little as he leaned across the counter to take a drag from between your fingers.

"So why haven't we gotten high together before?" You asked with an arched brow, curious as to where this "bad boy" phase was coming from.

"I don't smoke often," he said nonchalantly, smoke pouring from his mouth to haze the air around you for a moment as he exhaled. You hopped up onto the island behind him taking another drag so deep it made you cough a little

"You want a beer?" Shoto asked, popping open the fridge.

"Please, my buzz wore off in that cold," You said, remembering Katsuki and his dumb crap with a roll of your eyes. Shoto grabbed two cold beers and let the door shut behind him.

"You got a.." you trailed off looking for the bottle opener as you tried to grab one of the bottles from his hand. A snort escaped Shoto’s nose as he held onto the bottle, setting his aside for a moment and angled your cap against the edge of the countertop, right at the spot between your legs. Your heart sped up a little as he bashed his fist down, sending the cap skittering onto the floor, and brought the bottle to your lips as foam bubbled.

"No bottle opener needed," he said, thinking the way he took that soft gasping inhale when your tongue flicked against the rim had escaped your notice. You fought the grin from your face as he unconsciously moved a little closer, his eyes watching your lips as a light blush dusted his nose.

"Well well, what do we have here kids? Playing nice together?" Sero joked from the doorway, giving Shoto a teasing yet pointed look, "we've got an opener 'Roki".

"But it's my only party trick," Shoto said, opening his bottle in the same fashion and taking a drink, moving away from you, and leaning against the counter next to the refrigerator. Sero plucked the blunt from between your fingers, taking the last drag before licking his fingers and snuffing out the end.

“I know a better party trick-" Sero was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing Jiro’s ringtone.

"She's probably figured out I'm not home," you said, hopping down and going to the living room to grab your bag.

"Jiro I'm fine, I'll be back later tonight or in the morning-"

"Where are you?" Katsuki’s voice said, slightly slurred.

"Why do you have Jiro’s phone?" You asked.

"I snatched it from her hand, I knew you would pick up if she called" He snapped, "where are you?".

"Far away from you" you snapped back, "and that cock sucking tramp".

"It was a mistake, come back. Let's talk about this" he said, slightly slurred. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re drunk, of course, you are,” You said with an irritated sigh, “Thought you would know better than to do something so stupid”.

“Come on babe, let’s just forget it, I’m sorry alright?”. It felt like your blood was boiling.

“Say it when you’re sober Katsuki” You snapped, cheeks heating angrily as you hit the end button, turning your phone to silent before stowing it away back in your bag.

"Everything alright?" Shoto asked from the kitchen doorway.

"Just Katsuki," you said with an eye roll.

"He call to apologize?" He asked, walking over and sitting down on the couch, flipping the tv to a movie channel. You snorted a laugh, flopping down next to him.

"Barely. When has he ever actually apologized for anything?" You asked, downing the rest of the beer in your hand, and setting it on the coffee table. You hadn't noticed Sero had disappeared upstairs until he returned with his rolling tray in hand.

"Jiro coming by?” Sero asked, sitting back next to you on your right side.

“No, it was Katsuki”.

“Yikes, bet he’s pissed," he said, breaking open a fresh blunt wrapper.

"I wouldn't know, I hung up on him and turned my phone on silent," you said, tuning into the movie on TV. Sero let out a low whistle.

"Yeah he's pissed for sure" he snickered, pinching a bud between his fingers to break down. Both of their phones were buzzing from their private group chat, no doubt Katsuki ranting and raving. You shifted uncomfortably, finding it harder to focus on picking a movie with every passing buzz or vibration in their pockets. You jumped slightly when Shoto nudged you.

"Are you okay?" He asked his brows knitting in concern. You nodded, taking the blunt from his fingers when he offered it. You nodded, head swimming for a moment as you took a drag before handing it over to Sero. You felt Shoto’s fingers go to your jaw, turning your face so that you were looking up into his eyes.

“You can’t lie to me,” He said with a soft assurance in his voice, taking his phone from his pocket, turning it completely off, and setting it on the coffee table, “Everything is going to be fine”.

“For now, I’ll have to see him in my first class tomorrow” You sighed, putting your face in your hands.

“So deal with it tomorrow,” Sero said from your right, “It’s gonna come whether you want it to or not so why not deal with it when it gets here, ‘cross that bridge’ and shit you know?”. He had a point, you know he did.

“Why not just stay here tonight? We’ve got an entire guest bedroom upstairs, that way you don’t have to deal with any questions from Jiro and just kind of tune everything out to get your mind clear” Shoto said, hand warm against your back. It didn’t take much more convincing than that, you nodded and leaned your head against Shoto’s shoulder, taking a deep breath and getting tingles in your stomach just from his warmth and proximity.

“Pop those feet up here too, get comfortable and let’s pick this movie,” Sero said, grabbing one of your ankles and hauling your feet into his lap. For a moment, it felt like old times hanging out with them in Sero’s dorm room. The more smoke that poured through your lungs the fuzzier your head got and the easier it was to forget your entire fight.

It was nearing the end of the movie now, snack wrappers were discarded across the coffee table, and two roaches lay in the ashtray as Sero handed you his lighter to spark up a third, everything just seemed right in the moment. Your stomach hurt from laughing so much as Shoto choked on his water fighting a coughing fit from attempting to blow smoke rings.

“I swear I know how to do it” He croaked, whites of his eyes red and only making the colors sparkling bright as he wiped a tear away with a cough.

“Sure you do” You teased, taking a deep drag and listening to the sound of the wrap and the weed sizzling before nudging Sero to hand it to him and let Shoto recover for a minute, “Hey Hanta, what was that party trick you were talking about earlier?”. Sero grinned, taking the blunt from your fingers and fixing his dark eyes onto Shoto.

"Sit up I'll show you,". Your cheeks heated as you sat up from Shoto’s lap and scooted a little closer to Sero when he tugged you.

"This is just for fun, okay?" He asks, trying to joke but obviously asking for consent for whatever he was going to do as he held a soft hand against your cheek. You nodded, watching as he brought the blunt to his lips and took a long drag. He gently urged your face forward with the hand moving from your cheek to jaw, your heart racing out of your chest. Sero leaned in close, noses almost touching close, with his lips just barely hovering over yours. You really thought he was about to kiss you then his smoke was pouring out, hazing for a moment around you before Shoto was tapping you.

"Inhale," he said, his left hand against your hip, a shover rolling down your spine at the feeling of his chest so close. You took a shaky breath, tasting the weed against your tongue and feeling the warmth of Sero’s lips less than a centimeter away from yours. He pulled away with a smirk, his dark eyes blown from the smoke and a little red around the edges.

"W-what was that?" You stuttered, heart in your throat.

“Never been shotgunned before?” He asked, a lazy smile on his lips as he sat back a little more, letting you have your space back. You shook your head, giggling at the cloudy feeling in your brain and the buzz through your body down to the fingertips. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the doorbell rang, tensing up under Shoto’s hands which were still on your waist from you had sat up from his lap.

“That’s Denki coming to grab his bag, give me one sec,” Sero said, moving your feet off of him and grabbing a tied-up baggy from the tray before handing you the blunt and heading for the door. You took the last burning hit, snuffing the end out in the ashtray as you held the smoke in your lungs till your eyes began to water. Shoto nudged you, prompting you to turn around.

“Gimme that hit,” He said softly, the whites of his eyes a light pink and his voice hushed. You squeaked as he leaned in, lips almost brushing yours as you realized what he meant. You released the smoke against his mouth, his lips parted, tasting the smoke against his tongue as he practically stole it from your lungs. Your heart thrumming in your chest has your whole body throbbing, blood heating in your veins as warmth pooled behind your now throbbing clit. You were nearly panting as he brushed his nose against yours, top lip grazing yours as he released the hit and let the smoke dissipate in the air around you. You were high, brain fuzzy and body tingling, at least that’s the excuse you would use if he rejected you as you leaned in to lock lips with him, moaning softly as one of his hands moved to cradle your cheek in his palm. You practically melted at the feeling of his tongue gliding across your bottom lip, his groan rattling down to your very core. You felt out of control of your body as you moved, pressing closer to him as the scent of his cologne once again filled your nose. Another squeak escaped you as his hands went to your waist, bunching the material of your dress in his fingers for a moment before tracing up your sides and then back down to grip your hips until finally, he maneuvered you over onto his lap.

“Didn’t know you were so handsy when you're high Sho” you teased in a hushed tone, body thrumming with lust as you moved your hips down.

"Can't help it," he murmured, kissing your cheek, then your jaw. You carded the fingers of your left hand through his bi-colored hair, tugging a little at the roots and eliciting a soft moan to tumble past his lips.

“Don’t have too much fun without me” Sero piped up from the doorway with a chuckle. You caught Kaminari’s eye from the front door, your cheeks immediately warming.

“Well well well, there you are,” the blonde said.

“Been looking for me Denki?” You asked, knowing exactly why Kaminari was fidgeting a little uncomfortably.

“Everyone has, especially Katsuki,” He said, handing Sero some folded bills and stuffing the baggy into his pants, “You gonna come back?”. You laughed, hands on Shoto’s chest from where you had sat up still straddling his hips.

“Right. Like I would go back to that party right now,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “Katsuki embarrassed the fuck out of me, I’m not gonna go back just so he can give me some half-ass apology and make himself look better”.

“He’s been super pissed since you left, been trying to find out where you went,” Kaminari said, running his hand through his yellow and black hair. Maybe it was the beer still lingering in your system or maybe it was the weed clouding your mind but you couldn't seem to care anymore. Shoto let his hands wander, pulling the bottom of your dress up just enough to feel the material of your panties beneath his fingers.

“Tell him where she is then if he’s so concerned” Shoto piped up, a dark look in his heterochromatic eyes as he stared up at you, the hand not feeling you going up to cup your cheek, a soft thumb across your cheekbone. You could tell Kaminari was trying hard to keep his eyes on your face despite the lace of your panties barely covering your ass as Shoto pulled you to grind down against him, a soft moan spilling from your lips when you felt how hard he was beneath you. The shock in Kaminari’s yellow eyes and the flush dusting his cheeks had Sero smiling, nudging him out the door.

“Don’t worry Denks, we’ll take care of her” He said with a filthy smirk on his face as he edged the door shut, “Tell Katsuki we said hi”. You couldn’t help but giggle as the door shut, an odd sense of euphoria flooding through you. Were you really gonna do this? Your answer solidified as Shoto sat up a little and pressed light kisses against your throat, his nose skimming just under your jaw.

“This okay?” He asked, fingertips moving across the softness of your inner thighs, trailing closer and closer to where you wanted him the most.

“Mhmm,” You sigh breathily, lightly bucking your hips forward. You gasped as he dipped his fingers past the waistband of your panties, a groan rolling from his chest as he felt your wetness.

“Dressed this pretty pussy up so nice for him,” Shoto said as he moved the crotch of your panties to the side so he could gain more access, “and he goes and does that to you”. Your breath catches at the low rumbling of his voice, the tone he was taking. Something darker and wanting. You had never heard that from him before and now that it had graced your ears you felt almost desperate for it again.

“It’s his loss isn’t sweetheart?” Sero asked as he made his way back over to his spot on the couch, only stopping for a moment to let his long fingers grip one of your ass cheeks before giving it a light slap. Your body was practically buzzing, head fuzzy from the feeling of Shoto’s lips on your skin and his fingers running almost cautiously across your clit and smearing the wetness.

“F-Fuck” You whimpered at the lust burning up your spine, fingers gripping tighter into Shoto’s hair as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

“Wanna taste that pussy, can I?” He groaned out the question like it was paining him to wait. You nodded, maybe too eagerly as you heard Sero chuckle from beside you. Shoto’s strong hands were moving you so quickly you giggled as your head spun a little, turning you onto your knees just as you were about to get comfortable on your back, head leaned back on Sero’s thigh.

“How does her ass look in those lacey panties ‘Roki? Just as good as you always imagined?” the black-haired man asked, smirking a little bigger at the questioning look on your face as he grabbed one of the many pre-rolled blunts from his tray.

“Better” Shoto mumbled, tugging your underwear down and off one leg and then the other before pressing a soft kiss to both of your cheeks and biting down on your thigh. Sero got himself comfortable, flipping onto a random channel and letting whatever show play as he leaned back against the arm of the couch to get a full view.

“You know he’s been waiting for you since high school,” He said casually as he lit the blunt between his fingers. “This is probably a dream come true”. You couldn’t reply as Shoto sunk two fingers into your pussy, his free hand gripping your asscheek and spreading you as he rolled his tongue up from your clit to taste the liquid essence creaming from your hole. You could feel the moan buzz from his tongue all the way to your bones, goosebumps flooding your flesh as an equal moan of pleasure escaped your lips, your lids clenching shut as your eyes rolled back.

“Why not just share all my secrets Hanta,” Shoto commented through a rough tone, barely wanting to pull away from rolling your clit with his tongue, his fingers beginning to squelch inside of you.

“You’re literally moaning into her pussy like a whore, not much of a secret” Sero said, taking a deep drag until his chest looked full. You tugged on his shirt as he was about to release it, pulling until he got the message and leaned down, angling your face up with a soft hand under your jaw and blowing the hit against your tongue as you inhaled greedily. He jumped lightly as your hand went to trail up his thigh.

“Easy, might get something you’re not ready for,” He said, trying his hardest to ignore the way his cock hardened in his sweats as your pretty manicured hand moved dangerously close.

“I think I might be” You said, biting your bottom lip between your teeth as you stifled another moan as Shoto’s fingers fucked against the sweet spot inside of you. Sero’s cheeks burned a candy pink as you swept your finger along the waistband of his sweats.

“You good with this?”Sero asked Shoto over your back, holding the blunt to your lips to let you take a drag. You felt more than saw Shoto give him a thumbs up, a surprised squeak tumbling passed your lips as you felt his tongue join his fingers at your entrance, the warm muscle tasting everything you were giving him. Sero sat back again, this time moving his leg so it was up against the back of the couch and and the other planted on the floor, completely spread.

“I’m gonna make one thing clear though buttercup, can’t be falling in love with me” He smirked, a teasing shine to his dark eyes now red around the outer edge. You rolled your eyes with a smile, pushing your hips back slightly against Shoto’s mouth.

“I’ll-ahh- try my best” You whimpered, the warm feeling of your release building low in your gut at the fervent rolls of Shoto’s tongue on your clit, the graze of his teeth making you shiver and moan a breathy version of his name. God if you only knew how good he was at this you and katsuki would have been done a long time ago. The intense feeling of your orgasm washing over you had a slutty moan dripping off your tongue, eyes clinched shut as your body shook and you leaked down Shoto’s fingers and against his tongue.

“Shit sweetheart, so good for me, squeezing my fingers so tight” Shoto groaned, burying his face against your pussy again until you were twitching with overstimulation. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing as he continued to lap at your clit, fingers curling and scissoring your insides until you could feel your second orgasm coming.

“Earth to space cadet” Sero commented, the hot feeling of his hard cock tapping at your cheek dragging you back from the burning pleasure in your core. Your mind was still scattered and your body shaking but you took his cock in your mouth without pausing, drawing a surprised groan from his chest as you took him as far as you could, Sero’s cock being so long you could barely fit half into your mouth before the head was prodding at the opening of your throat. You held onto his thigh as you gagged, taking a breath through your nose as your eyes watered, fighting a cough down.

“She’s choking” Shoto said, pulling back away from your pussy but leaving his fingers fucking into you as he took the blunt from Sero’s fingers.

“She’s alright, She’s a natural” Sero said almost lazily, a satisfied sigh puffing with smoke from his lips as you worked him over with your tongue. You took what you couldn’t fit into your mouth in your hand and pumped him along with every suck, drool spilling out of the corners of your mouth as you traced the vein along the underside, Sero’s skin flush with goosebumps. The long fingers of one hand went to your hair, holding it back away from your face, letting him and Shoto get a good look.

“Such a filthy girl,” Shoto groaned, releasing the smoke of his hit against your back and pressing wet kisses up your spine, fingers still thrusting into you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if your brain was melting out of your ears as all of your senses were being overwhelmed. The rough and soft touches, the moans and groans ringing in your ears, the debauched sounds spilling from you when you could get a breath, the smell of arousal and weed smoke thick in the air. Before you knew it Sero was pulling you off his cock, a deep flush on his cheeks.

“Almost made me cum in your mouth,” He panted, pinching your nose with his knuckles in a teasing manner, “I’ve got a better idea though”. You weren’t even able to ask what he meant before he had a finger to your lips silencing you.

“Wanna get back at Katsuki?” He asked. You thought for only a second before nodding, your clit throbbing as Shoto unzipped his jeans. You rubbed your thighs together as Shoto spit into his hand and fisted himself out of his pants, the slick sound of him stroking himself with a mixture of his salvia and your juices had your pussy clenching around nothing .In all honesty you had though about this many times, having both of your best friends use you to hearts content, being on your knees and wanting. All thoughts of Katsuki were long gone, something you would deal with tomorrow as bitterness still swam in your chest. You looked up at Shoto through your lashes as you took his cock in your hand, cheeks warming at the weight of him in your hand. He was thicker than Sero, not longer but definitely bigger, his tip a pretty red and already leaking, practically begging for attention.

“Been hiding this big boy from me for too long” You said, a hot groan gracing your ears as you taped the sticky head against your tongue, Shoto’s hips rocking forward . You grasped Sero’s dick in your hand, stroking him as Shoto stretched your mouth. Your eyes were watering again as his girth pushed you to your limit, you could feel the tears spill over and you knew your carefully done makeup was smeared to hell.

“Look how pretty you are, mouth so full of my cock you can barely think straight” Shoto said roughly, thrusting lightly against your tongue. You could feel Sero rub the leaking tip of his cock against your cheek, impatient with the pace you set with your hand.

“Don’t forget me sweetness” He huffed, fingers going to your head to push you further down when you turn to him with your tongue out, “Suck me good and I’ll give you a bag of bud as a party favor”. He winked at you when you looked up at him, moaning your confirmation around his cock and making his thighs shake. You lost sense of yourself after a moment, fervent hands seemingly trading you back and forth, Sero fucking down your throat and Shoto pressing heavy against your tongue as they let growled praise and groans fill your ears. Drool was running down your chin and you were soaking your panties, every moan of your name or grip of fingers against your hair or throat had slutty noises pouring from your lips.

“F-Fuck Baby, d’know how long m’gonna last” Shoto said heavily, his eyes half lidded and nearly crossing everytime he felt your tongue sweep his cock.

“Same, fuck you got a mouth on you” Sero groaned filthily his eyes clinched shut as you sucked him in against your gag reflex again and again. One of Shoto’s hands had wandered to tug the top of your dress down and tug at your nipple, sending nearly electric shocks of pleasure down to your toes. Everything about this situation made you want to cum again but also being denied the stimulation you craved had your stomach in knots.

“Let’s take a pretty picture for Katsuki, Baby” Shoto panted, jaw set as your hand stroked what your mouth couldn’t get, a strangled moan escaping as Sero’s long fingers squeezed your flushed throat right where his cock was attempting to pummel through. You hadn't noticed the phone in Shoto’s hand until both guys were panting deep breaths and shifting away from you, fisting themselves in slick pumps as their breath groans pushed you closer to an untouched release.

“Stick your tongue out,” Sero instructed, “Smile, and I’d shut your eyes”. It was barely a moment after your eyes were closed that you felt the first shot of hot cum streak across your cheek, then your lips and tongue, and then the sound of Shoto’s groan and another splash and drip down your jaw and across your tongue again.

“Perfect, god your gorgeous, this was fun” Sero huffed, still trying to catch his breath.

“Now don’t go falling in love with me Hanta” You commented with a smirk, swallowing down what had made it into your mouth.

“Let me get you a towel” Shoto said shakily, his thighs twitching as he made is way over to the bathroom, the faucet running a second before he was coming back, wet towel in hand. You gratefully took it from him, wiping your face and chest clean.

“Wanna see it before I send it?” Sero asked angling his phone towards you. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, Katsuki was gonna loose his mind. There you were in full glory covered in a mix of Sero’s and Shoto’s cum, blissed out smile on your face and tongue out happy to take everything they gave you.

“Send it” You said with smile, “and roll another blunt please”.

#igot5onitcollab #hanta sero #shoto todoroki #hanta sero x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #hanta sero smut #shoto todoroki smut #college au #tw drug use #tw weed #tw alcohol #mha smut

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rose-riot-johnson · 2 months

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Okay my Tumblr Peeps... I decided to write a fanfic about non other than Bleach's very own Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez🐆😁👍It may not be my 1st time writing about him, to be honest, however it's definitely my 1st time writing about him by himself🐆😃👍Any1 who is a fan of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, I definitely have a treat for you🐆😁👍I just have so many ideas I have planned for this fanfic about Grimmjow😃👍 Also, apologies ahead of time if Grimmjow's pov, ends up having more paragraphs than the reader' pov (which I labeled your pov), considering this is the first fanfic I will have reader's pov and the character's pov😅

*This fanfic contains 1 or more long paragraphs😅

🩵🐆What Happened To You, During The Nightclub Incident🐆🩵(Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x Female Reader)

Genres: Angst (Possible Dark Angst) (Warning⚠️: Language, Trigger Warnings Include; Alcohol Consumption, Drugging, Violence, Blood, and Anything Unspeakable Depending On the Reader's Imagination)

The introduction:

You were invited by your friends to go with them to a night club they frequently go to. You accepted their invite, because you really have never been to a night club or any bars before, you were more comfortable going to places with your friends for some reason, and you weren't sure if you would have that opportunity again. You felt like you have known your friends for years, that they're the best friends you had ever had and you figured they're the ones you have your back. You truly trust no one else as much as you trusted your friends, so you believe in your heart that you could never have better friends than the friends you have...

Your pov:

You were already dressed, dolled up, and ready by the time your friends picked you up from the nightclub, your friends took you. You were extremely excited to to be there for the first time ever. You then noticed a man with blue hair and blue eyes, who was smiling at you (while drinking a glass of vodka), however his expression seems to switch after he saw your friends. Your friends told you that he's like this with most people and is a trouble maker, then told you to watch out for him, because they think he's a creep with anyone he likes, not to trust him, and called him a "sexual predator". To you he didn't seem like it, however how can you not trust your friends you figured.

A group of men, then went up to you, as your friends introduced you to the men who are near you. These men also said some things about him, as if they're warning you about him, then one of these men seemingly assured you, "Pay no attention to him! He may start trouble, but we know how to deal with trouble makers like him! Just let us know, if he starts anything with you!", before he seemingly warned you, "If I were you, I'd keep my distance from him!", After they went elsewhere inside the nightclub, one of your friends said, "See? Even these gorgeous guys said this blue hair guy is trouble... But don't worry, (Female Reader Name)..., Then the friend who was talking was encouraging you to dance with one if the other me on the dance floor.

You were having so much fun dancing on the dance floor that you forgot your drink. After you got done dancing with the guy, you went back to where your friends were, as they cheered you on, before drinking your drink. "It's strange... I only took a couple sips of the drink and I'm feeling kinda funny right now...". Your friends then laughed as one of them said, "Maybe because your alcohol tolerance is low and we need to get it up higher...", before the second friend said, "Or possibly you're having such a good time, where you forgot you couldn't handle your booze", as all of your friends laughed before you feel into one of the men's arms passing out and drugged...

Grimmjow's pov:

Grimmjow is an (sixth or shall we say sexta) Espada, type of Arrancar, which is a type of hollow. He would occasionally go to the night club, to have a couple drinks, while trying to keep to himself (despite of his temper), then leave, however the night you went in that nightclub with your friends, he watched you. He sees your friends often when he's there (and he couldn't stand them), however to him there's something about you that is different about you.

While Grimmjow watches you he saw a group of men hanging around your friends, telling you negative stuff about him, as one of these men say, "Pay no attention to him! He may start trouble, but we know how to deal with trouble makers like him! Just let us know, if he starts anything with you! If I were you, I'd keep my distance from him!", as if he was warning you. After they went elsewhere inside the nightclub, they talked to you, as if they seemed like to have your back, then acted like they're encouraging you, as they had you dance with one of the other men on the dance floor. Once you went on the dance floor with one of the other men, it the man who was talking, the rest of the men, and your friends were putting stuff in your drink that appears to be, roofies (short for the actual name, rohypnol), ecstasy, and cocaine, all mixed together right with the alcohol you were drinking and Grimmjow madesure he recorded the whole thing.

The reason why Grimmjow can't stand your friends nor those men you just met, because he has been overhearing some stuff they mean stuff about you and even said about you as they complained, "I wished we could just get rid of her, because why I don't know why in the fuck we're friends with that loser in the first place, besides feeling sorry for her!", then the men would come over look for a "hot chick" to do unspeakable things to and your friends mentioned about bringing you over to the nightclub for them to try laying their hands on you. So, when the night that you came with your friends arrived he knew he had to find a way to get proof, so ofcourse he's going to record your friends true colors with his touchscreen cellphone.

As much as it makes Grimmjow cringe only rewatch and record the whole thing, especially with your friends calling you a "bitch" and a "virgin hoe", then laughing at you from feeling the drugged effect of drinking the beverage your friends and the rest of the group of men put drugs in, before you ending up passed out drugged up into the talkative man's arms, Grimmjow knows he rather not cause trouble until he's done recording, while he sensing your friends take advantage of you by their backstabbing tactics for how naive and gullible you really are with them, and will need some form of solid proof to show you who "your friends" truly are. After he gets done recording, the group of men were about to take you to the ally way, however before they were able to carry you outside to take you to the ally way, Grimmjow went up to the men and began to punch one of the men in the face and knocked him out cold. The rest of the men tried attack him and quickly bring you outside, he pound some of their heads to a bloody pulp, twist a couple of the men's arms, a few he gave them a bloody nose, and he even kicked the talkative man in the balls. When one of your friends tried to complain and the rest of your friends were about to take you outside to dispose of you, by throwing you in the dumpster, Grimmjow scolded, "Don't you dare fucken, do what I fucken think you're about to do as your back up plan! I knew you were terrible friends to your friend who is (Female Reader Name)! However I just didn't fucken know you ladies and those men were in on drugging the kind looking lady! You ladies and those men seem like you're all out to get her! You are basically working with those men who have a history of drugging other women! For all of your actions you ladies have committed, none of you deserve a friend like her! Infact she deserves better than two faced backstabbing jerks like all of you ladies! Every single one of you disgust me! We're leaving and never coming back here!". Grimmjow then carried you in his arm, leaving the nightclub and finding a place to take care to look after you.

The aftermath of the nightclub incident:

As you were waking up, you saw that you weren't in the nightclub with your "friends". You saw you were in an abandoned motel room that doesn't look abandoned, then you saw the blue haired man your friends and the group of men were talking bad about, as if they seemed to warn you. You were frightened and was thinking about trying to run away out of fear, however the blue haired man calmly said, "Relax... You're safe now... From all of the times I heard your so called friends mentioned about you and your name, you must be (Female Reader Name), if I'm not mistaken...", before introducing himself, "My name's Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez... Call me Grimmjow...". You then in a frightened state cried, "Why are you talking about about my friends? And you are the bad man who my friends and those men warmed me about... What have you done to me? What have you done to my friends?". Grimmjow gave you an annoyed and not surprised look as he replied, "What I done to you and what have I done to your friends?! I knew you would believe everything they say! It's more like what those men and your "friends" did to you and their motives! I saved your life! Those friends of your are not your friends and are backstabbers who only took you as a friend out of pity! They even called you a loser and I don't see why they think of you as such! Those men and those who you call your friends are fucken cowards and your friends were even about to throw you in the dumpster after I defended you against those men who were about to do unspeakable things to you!", before handing you his cellphone, as he continued, "And if you don't fucken believe me, you have my permission to see the video of last night! Watch the evidence of your fake friends true colors, while I cook some food for you!".

You watched the whole video, Grimmjow recorded. As you were watching the video, you were horrified at everything he was recording. What your "friends" and those men doing with your drink, everything your "friends" said about you, them laughing at you while you were drinking and you passing out drugged after you were drinking. You ended up shaking wondering if you really are everything your friends said about you or if you could really trust anyone, before you bursted to tears. Once Grimmjow finished cooking, he then went to check on you, as he then said, "I'm truly sorry you haf to see this video for yourself, however I can sense your so naive and gullible to the point where you believe everything they say! I hate to say this... They probably have never been truly your friends...".

You went to hug Grimmjow as you cried on his left shoulder, as you continued to sob, "This is all my fault! If I never had any drinks, then non of this would have happened! If I can't trust my friends, who in the hell can I trust?!". Grimmjow then hugged you, while petting the back of your head, as he replied, "Unfortunately that's life... They're just the wrong friends for you... Also don't blame yourself! None of this is your fault and you didn't know better! Those me and your fake friends are in fault... Not you! Now you know who really are trying to make you their prey... And I get we just met, however maybe we should know eachother better, so we can work on trusting eachother... I will admit... I might be an asshole, but I'm not as heartless, as I seem to be...". After the conversation you and Grimmjow had together, he letted you eat the food he cooked for you that you were able to eat up, to ensure you feel better, considering you were having an upset stomach from what happened to you at the nightclub that night.

After you were feeling all better, you and Grimmjow agreed on letting you live in Hueco Mundo, considering that you would live anywhere he would live in. Despite that he did warn you that Hueco Mundo is a dangerous place to live in considering there are hollows who are extremely strong, mean, and heartless who have no honor, you still would be happy to go anywhere with him, because he saved your life and you knew you would feel safer in Hueco Mundo, than you would bring around those who you thought were your friends. Years after living with Grimmjow in Hueco Mundo, you never looked back, as you felt in your heart, soul, and gut that this is one of the best decisions you had ever made. (Up to the reader's imagination if she does end up having a relationship with Grimmjow)

🐆🩵The End🩵🐆

I will admit I did get alot of ideas for this Grimmjow fanfic and I decided the ideas I have written down for the fanfic, I'm not letting that go to waste and I really had fun coming up with ideas for this fanfic about Grimmjow🐆😃👍Last year, I was going to write a similar idea with a particular Soul Reaper who I haven't written about before, however I cancelled out on a similar idea, because I did procrastinate on some fanfics and haven't continued on with certain fanfics in the drafta such as the fanfic idea I had for this particular Soul Reaper, I wasn't 💯% sure if I could pull off with the similar idea at the time last year, and I basically couldn't keep ideas for this similar fanfic while continuing on with other ideas with it where I letted the ideas for planning a similar go to waste last year. Fortunately ideas for this Grimmjow fanfic came in my head and despite of these ideas going in my head there are alot of inspirations for this Grimmjow fanfic. If I did make any spelling or grammar mistakes I may have rushed the fanfic without reading it thoroughly and stuff, otherwise I did try my best with spelling and grammar while trying to look on spelling with certain words. As for "bitch" or "virgin hoe", I have used the word virgin before, while the words "bitch" and "hoe" I rarely use with writing fanfics, however considering the way I'm writing about the reader's friends, their motives, and stuff, this is 1 of the rare fanfics I have written "bitch" and/or hoe in. As for Grimmjow, I really wanted to write something about him. Months before I discovered Tumblr, I grew fascinated with Grimmjow😃👍I just knew there's something to like about him. To be honest, I just like him, with or without any reasons🐆😁👍As time went by, I have found out there are other people who like him, which I'm really happy about🙂 I also have been thinking about possibly writing another Grimmjow fanfic or so somewheres in the future, even if it's near future🐆😃👍Anyways my Tumblr Peeps, I hope you enjoyed this Grimmjow fanfic I have written 🐆😁👍

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rodentgoth · 9 months

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-Murdoc x GN!Reader

Done for 🖤✨anony (They did reveal themselves but I didn't know if they wanted to be tagged in this)

An alternate title for this fic:: I cannot write a British accent to save my life and I am so sorry!

Not gonna lie the minute I saw this was a Gorillaz request I flipped my shit!

I didn't have a specific Phase in mind while writing this, but I would like to think this is happening around phase 2 or very late in phase 1.

... Also I would like the court to Know that I have a dark!selfship for a playlist for Murdoc! So, if you wanna listen to that while you read you cannnnnnn!

Rating:: 18+ // Explicit

Fandom:: Gorillaz

Themes/Kinks:: Noncon

This Fic contains and Implies themes of::

Drug Use

Alcohol Use

Non-con

If these themes trigger or offend you, you probably shouldn’t read this!

Please take care of ya self!

It was your first concert and you were as excited as ever!

Your favorite band was playing, plus you also got an exclusive backstage pass! It would allow you to meet and hang out with whatever member you wanted for the rest of the night, and you already knew who you wanted to meet. It was a rare opportunity, and you had your eyes set on the band’s Bassist, Murdoc Niccals. Everything about him intrigued you. His skills with the bass, raunchy personality, and less-than-natural skin color all added to your interest in him.

The concert soon came to an end, the lights dimmed, the music was replaced with chattering voices, and people started to grab their things to leave. Pushing against the dwindling crowd you find the closest stagehand, and present them with your pass. They kindly asked you to follow them, and you happily oblige with a skip in your step.

Backstage there are a million roadies working hastily to get everything cleared out and cleaned up. You bump into a few of them, causing them to drop a long microphone cable. Despite your best efforts to apologize and help, they still gave you dirty looks as they gathered the wire again. In all honesty, you really didn't care what they thought about you. You were here for one reason, to meet your idol…and maybe get an autograph or two.

After a bit of walking, you found yourself in a mostly clear hall with one door.

"Wait here please." The stagehand said, before unlocking the door and heading in.

You obeyed and stood looking around the hall. Equipment and costume racks were scattered everywhere. Although the hall still felt weirdly empty. You started to wonder, 'Were you the ONLY one to get this pass?'. They were a huge band with plenty of fans, so you'd think at least a few people would've gotten it. Maybe they only made one? Guess you were just lucky enough to actually get it.

After another minute or so, the loud creaking of the door broke the awkward silence. The stagehand returned, inviting you in.

Behind the door was a small chamber with four different doors, each labeled with a name.

'Russel', '2D', 'Noodle', and last but not least 'Murdoc'.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. This was it, this is what you've been waiting for! Your mind was racing like crazy.

They asked which member you'd like to meet.

"O-oh, M-Murdoc!"

You said cheerfully as you pointed at the door near the end of the hall.

They guided you to the door and gave it a gentle knock. A few footsteps, moans, and the sound of glass shattering echoed from behind the wooden plank, followed by a click of the lock. The door swung open to reveal the man of the hour.

He had a smirk plastered on his face, showing his jagged teeth.

“I can take ‘em from here!” He said, his voice rough, yet weirdly calming.

The stagehand nodded, before wandering off.

Murdoc stepped out of the doorway before extending his arm in a welcoming gesture.

You stood there staring for a minute, in awe of the fact that this was actually happening!

Looking over at him, you could see his face slowly starting to get annoyed with you just standing there. You step into the room, and he slammed the door behind you, causing you to jump a bit. The green man audibly laughed at the sight, so loud in fact, you couldn’t hear the click of the door locking again.

The room was cluttered to no end, booze bottles, cigarettes, pills, and various gifts and other trinkets covered up the floor. The walls were also covered in various things from Pin-up posters to photos and letters from fans, there were even a few rather lewd photos up as well. The smell of smoke and cheap liquor filled every breath you took.

“Make yer’self at home!”

He said walking over to a busted-up fridge.

You looked over at the couch. It was covered in stains of god knows what, and was torn up beyond belief. You sat on the least messed up spot you could find, and just…Watched him. You had a million things you wanted to say, but you kept holding yourself back. He already seemed annoyed cause of you standing at the door gawking, and you didn’t wanna push it further. The clang of the fridge door closing broke you out of your self-deprecation, and cause you to vault a bit. He once again laughed at how fidgety you were, as he placed two glasses on the table in front of you.

“Yer’ a bit jumpy there, aren’t cha’?” He said sitting down next to you.

“So-Sorry…” you began to fidget with the pass in your hand.

“Just…nervous to be actually meeting you!” You said doing your best not to crack under pressure.

He chuckled a bit, as he popped open another bottle of liquor.

“Well, this otta help you loosen up a bit!”

He poured the bottle out into the two glasses, sliding one of them over to you. You had never drunk before, nervously you reach for the glass and hold it. You look over at him, expecting some form of prompt or validation to begin drinking. Only to see him digging around in his Pocket for…something.

“Come on…Come on…Ah!” He exclaimed, pulling out what looked to be two small pink tablets. He dumped one into his drink, and immediately it began to fizz for a few seconds, before returning to being completely still. He looked over at you, meeting your gaze. He tried to do the same with your drink, but you pulled it away quickly. Drinking with a stranger was one thing. Drinking and doing hard, probably illegal, drugs with a stranger was another. He scoffed a bit, as his face became slightly irritated.

“It ain’t gonna hurt you, or nothin’.” He took a swig of his own drink, to prove a point.

“You might be a wee bit lightheaded, but it’ll pass!”

Your mind was bouncing back and forth before you caved, handing your drink to him. It went through the same process of fizzing before returning to normal. You nervously gulped it down to feel…nothing. He wasn’t lying, you were a bit lightheaded but it wasn’t too bad.

“So, You gonna actually talk to me, or just sit there gawkin’?”

“Well…I just love you and your music! Your skills are unmatched!” You start gushing, noticing a smirk reappear on his face.

“Thank you! You know if it wasn’t for me the rest of ‘em would fall to rubbish. Just wouldn’t be complete ya know?”

He began to ramble a bit, you were half listening, your concentration slowly leaving you.

You nod your head a bit too to give the illusion of full attention. A wave of dizziness hits you as you decide to rest your head against, what you can only assume is, a dried beer stain.

“But how about you, love? Gotta girlfriend? Boyfriend? Or whatever?”

You blink a couple of times as you process what was asked, it was taking longer than usual to think of something.

“N-nuh uh.” You replied with a slight slur.

“I-I was never much for dating…I mean, I’ve had a few lovers here, and there, but none of them stayed for long.” You slurred out, not really care if it was too much information.

He shrugged, finishing off what was left in his glass.

“That’s a damn shame, you’re bloody gorgeous!” He complimented as he scooted closer to you.

You chuckled, before responding.

“No, I'm not, You jus-just saying that. ” You responded with the goofiest smile on your face.

His hand slowly made its way to your thigh, but you didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m serious, even the hottest raunchiest birds in hell, would be jealous of you!”

He slipped his hand into your pants, prodding and rubbing wherever he could reach. Despite the movements being slightly erratic, they still managed to get a few moans and groans out of you.

“You know, we're gonna be performing here for a month or so,”

He sped up a bit, and you went from small moans to wailing howls. You could feel his nails ripping through the fabric, the tips of his fingers just barely entering you.

“And I’m gonna need someone to keep me company, on these lonely nights.”

He pushed his fingers in further, making you tremble. You grabbed onto his arm, maybe for comfort, maybe to stop him. He kept going though, digging his fingers deeper and deeper.

And soon your wailing turned into whines as you came closer and closer to release. You felt something long and slimy against your neck. You looked down to see his tongue dragging along your skin. Eventually, you couldn’t hold back, you tightened your grip on his arm as you came. He stopped and removed his hand slowly, wiping off your fluids on the cushion.

He looked up at your face, your pupils were wide, completely zoned out. With one swift movement, he bit your neck, leaving a bloody and noticeable mark.

“You’ll be my personal backstage bird! ”

He began petting your head.

“How does that sound?”

You nodded your head up and down, leaning into his touch. You did it…you met your idol.

#fanfic #mine #fanfiction #fic #murdoc niccals #gorillaz murdoc #cw drugs #drugs cw #cw noncon #cw// drug use #cw// noncon #cw// Alcohol #murdoc x reader #Murdoc Niccals is a bitch ass motherfucker // Lovingly~

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catswonderland · 1 year

Text

Warning 18+ Minors DNI

(Language/ mention of drinking & weed)

Did this story on my own, title on my own & pics came from, Pinterest & Ig

F.Oc-(no, y/n)

Summary: Secret’s always have a way to come forth…

Number of words-(Don’t care)

_________

One-shot:

_________

Pls come, I miss u baby😊

God, how Maya felt annoyed looking at the txt, frown set on her face.The young woman sighed, she knew what was gonna come from her decision an the asshole later will be paying her back; dinner,Heineken & weed.

I’m coming asshole 😑

__ 5 days later

Happy u r here😊

Maya loved that her man wanted to spend time with her, however she knew the undertones if she’d not accept his offer to come see him; non-stop txt, calls & calls to other friends to get another helping hand to get his girlfriend to come see him.The asshole was a lot of work, he however made Maya happy, hence why she puts up with chaos.

Fixing her mid-back length black hair into a ponytail, Maya had found herself looking into the floor-length mirror within the hotel room.She didn’t always have the best view of her appearance, ever since meeting Chris though things were changing.Smiling, Maya was quick to send a pic to her love an continued to get ready for the payback dinner date.

__2 days later

I’m glad u came to the concert.See u in the front😊

The people wore some kind of dark clothing, Maya felt confident in her choice, she didn’t really want to bring attention to herself; black glasses balanced on nose, makeup done naturally on porcelain skin, black long-sleeve shirt with white designs, black skinny jeans & grey Creepers.Lights dimmed, crowd mumbled in excitement & Maya felt her heart beat like it was in a race; the concert for, Motionless In White was now upon everyone.

The bang of a drum, strum of a guitar, screams of the crowd; Motionless In White was already becoming a bigger hit as the seconds passed.Maya had to cover her ears for a time, not able to help herself in rolling her eyes at abandoning earplugs.There they were, the full group of legends all upon the stage; Vinny Mauro(drummer), Ryan Sitkowski(lead guitarist), Ricky Olson(rhythm guitarist), Justin Morrow(bass guitarist) & Chris Motionless(frontline vocals).

Five songs in and people were already doing a mosh-pit, adrenaline was going strong.Maya was all for the energy, she loved to sway to the music an close her eyes in bliss.It was never realized that when she was within her own world that a good looking blonde had been watching her from time to time.

The crowd kept cheering, kept moshing and Maya kept rolling with the flow.The good looking blonde still couldn’t take his eyes off her an decided to do something about it, however going about doing it was a great shock.“Sorry people but I’ve got to interrupt the festivities.For two years now I’ve been seeing someone.I’ve now become this sickly-sweet love guy an have no regrets about it”.

Drop.fucking.dead is all Maya wanted to do.The poor woman’s head was starting to spin, funny enough she didn’t light a joint yet.Two years was close enough outta the, baby-stage, how things were in getting brought up though was madness.

__1 day later

Chris knew he would be in the doghouse, he knew as soon as he put things on stage that he’d been seeing someone, Maya would go for his ass.Not talking & not looking in Chris’ direction even when he’s in the room; Maya was silently torturing him.

Click, click; the only message of the world between two individuals was from a camera.Running a hand through his short dyed-blonde hair Chris got an idea while looking at the photo he took of Maya looking naturally beautiful in having just went on the terrace to spark a joint.

In the doghouse right now, no fucking surprise here (lol).I really do like to say that how things came about yesterday could’ve waited, like today as a matter of fact.

Not much time is given when on tour, I lost my mind a bit once able to see my lovely @manicmaya.Met my other half outside a bar two years ago, I still remember how she looked; glasses, no makeup, shoulder-length hair, stained grey shirt (some douche not paying attention where he was walking), white skinny jeans & black boots.

Been through so many things already that could break any couple but with us it didn’t; depression, Weed & binging alcohol.Does Maya still smoke a joint or drink a beer, yes, I however don’t care as long as she stays to the steps for herself to be safe.

Love this woman of mine with all my being- C😊

By sending the post out, Chris felt like it was a step for himself taking responsibility for being a fucking idiot to the entire world in how he handled things the other day.He really didn’t want his woman mad at him anymore.

“I really don’t know what to do with you sometimes”.Maya looked at Chris with a raised brow from where she stood at the opening leading out to the terrace.Her crazy man couldn’t stop the grin on his face.“..Worth every moment of those times you don’t know what to do with me”.

All became right with the world as Chris was able to get up from the squishy-hotel bed an hold Maya.Others on the social network had a different experience.

_________

One-shot won’t have add-ons

#cats-music #motionless in white imagine #chris motionless imagine #18+ readings #alcohol x drug use

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astarryeclipse · 6 months

Text

~~Moon tries to make you sleep, but Aaron does that before Moon can~~

TW: drugs, alcohol, abuse, swear words, blood, Moon

#fnafsb #fnaf #fnafruin #fnaf moon #moondrop #moon x reader #fnaf sun #sundrop #sun x reader #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw abuse #tw swearing #tw blood #tw moon #you cant escape us fanfic

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sortofanobsession · 1 year

Text

Will o’ the Wisp - Ch. 8 (Umbrella Academy WIP) Diego x Reader slow burn

Author’s note: A bit of a shorter chapter this time. Events of Episode 1x07 The Day That Was. No translations needed this time.

So as it goes, Y/N = your name. Y/N/N = your nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Primary Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Female!Reader (Slow Burn Season 1)

Series/TUA Masterlist

Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 9

Word count: 2k+

Content Warning: Drugs, Drinking, Anger, Sibling Rivalry, Blood, Passing Out, Injury, (Temporary) Fatal Injury, Head trauma, Cardiac arrest, CPR, Stitches, Police, Arrest, mentions of death, mentions of murder, cussing/swearing/cursing, Panic Attacks, Exhaustion

Chapter 8: Things that do Matter

"Harold Jenkins?" Allison asks, holding the note from the Commission.

"Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" Diego asks.

"I don't know," Five says as he tosses the empty coffee cup across the room. "Yet. But I do know that he's responsible for the apocalypse. So we have to find him. And we have to do it now."

"How is he connected to what's gonna happen?" Luther asks.

"I don't know," Five answers.

"Wait, so you just know his name? That's it?"

“That's enough," Five informs.

"There's probably dozens of Jenkinses,"

"Well," Five admits. "We just better start looking, then."

"Am I the only one that's skeptical here? I mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what's his name?"

"Harold Jenkins."

"You know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?"

"Oh, yeah, I think I remember those guys."

"Yeah, the ones that attacked us while you were getting drunk."

"Yeah," Five says. "Them. They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me from coming back and preventing the end of life on Earth."

"The Temps what?"

"My former employer. They monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is supposed to happen happens. They believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. So I went to Commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for said lunatics. 'Protect Harold Jenkins'. So he must be responsible for the apocalypse."

"What do you mean, protect time and space?" Allison asks at the same time Diego says he’s going after Hazel and Cha-Cha.

"Do you have any idea,” Allison starts. “How insane this sounds?"

"You know what else is insane?” Five counters. “I look like a 13-year-old boy. Y/N glows like she is made of neon. Klaus talks to the dead, and Luther thinks he's fooling everybody with that overcoat. Everything about us is insane. It always has been."

"He's got a point there," Klaus acknowledges.

"We didn't choose this life. We're just living it."

"For the next three days, anyway."

"But the last time we tried to stop it, we all died."

"Why is this time any different?"

"Why shouldn't I go home to my daughter?" "Because this time, I'm here. We have the name of the man responsible."

"Guys, we actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people,” Five insists. “Including Claire."

Allison is surprised. "You know her name?"

"I do, and I'd like to live long enough to meet her,” Five tells her.

All right."

"Let's get this bastard," Allison states.

"You had me at Gerald Jenkins," Diego says.

"Harold Jenkins," Five corrects him.

"Whatever."

Y/N chuckles but nods.

Diego continues. "I've already lost two people this week, I'm not losing anyone else." She reaches over and gently puts her hand on the one in the sling.

"And Luther?"

"Yeah, you go. I'm gonna stay and go through Dad's files. I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the Moon."

"Seriously?" Diego asks. "Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and Dad?"

"No. 'Watch for threats.' That's what he told me.”

Diego can feel his sister’s sigh.

“You think that's a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow."

"No, we should all stick together."

"We don't have time for this," Five says.

"Let's roll."

"I know where we can find this asshole."

“Diego…” she starts.

"Klaus, you're with me."

"Yeah. I'm good,” Klaus tells them. “I think I'll, uh I think I'll pass. I'm feeling a little under."

Diego looks at Y/N when he moves, but she doesn't. "Would you be mad if I stayed here?" She asks him.

"You want to stay?" He repeats. She always wanted to go with him, one way or another. Even when he didn’t want her to. It set off alarms in his head, especially after the way she was acting when Viktor was there. "What's wrong?"

Five seems to get impatient, but Diego glares and waves him off. "I'll be right there," he tells their younger-looking, much older brother. Five relents, for now.

She looks at Diego. “You go. I’ll stay here and see if I can help Luther. I need some sleep. I can get that here. You have to admit I'm off my game. I'm too tired. I didn't even see V get here, and the Wisp was in full form in the room. I barely reacted when Five-"

"Luz, look at me," he tells her. His hand was on her cheek to make her really look at him. He studies her face. His thumb brushes along the dark circles under her eyes. She must be bone tired to actually admit it. "Okay, you get some sleep and see what you can do after. Keep those two in line if you have to."

"DIEGO!" Five calls him.

"ALRIGHT!" Diego turns and shouts back.

"Be careful," she says.

"Of course, can't do anything stupid without you, I promised. Right?"

She nods. "Now go before Five has a rage stroke fitting of the old man he is."

"I'm starting to regret asking the two of you to get along," Five glares at Diego as he approaches the car.

"Well, I regret you a lot, so there's that," Diego counters.

"Y/N is staying?" Allison asks.

"Yeah, she is going to get some sleep and then do whatever she can to help."

"And you're okay with that?" Both Five and Allison are surprised.

"Would I rather we all be going, of course, but her powers can be a drain. If she needs the rest up, so we have a better chance of stopping this guy, then better now than later. Besides, Luther and Klaus are here, Pogo too. They'll look after her."

She manages to get a bit of sleep. When shouting wakes her. She finds Klaus in his room.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Luther left,” he tells her.

“What? Why?”

“He found the research he did while on the moon, and dad didn’t even look at it,” Klaus says.

“But that…what?” she says in shock. “I’m going to talk to Pogo.”

She looks at her father’s office and sees the mess Luther left. “Pogo?” She goes to find him.

“Yes, Miss Y/N,” he answers.

“What happened?” she asks. Pogo explains most of what happened between Reginald and Luther. Or as much as he is willing to say. She helps him straighten a few things up before Klaus seems to have a change of heart and tells her that Luther wanted to be more carefree like him and that they should probably find him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?!” She runs to her room and grabs her jacket. “We need to find him!” She sends out a handful of Wisps but keeps her body moving and searching as she does. “I’ll look. You just make sure I don’t get hit by a car or anything. You can manage that at least, right?”

“I’m sorry, Sunshine,” Klaus says.

“Can you do that?” she repeats.

“Of course, I’m not going to let you get hit by a car or get shot…again. Diego would murder me.”

“Okay, thank you,” she says before putting more focus into her search.

“We should have taken him to the hospital.” Allison and Diego manage to get a bloody Five back to the Academy.

“A kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions,” Five tells them.

“Yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in Harold Jenkins' attic.”

“He's still losing blood.”

“What do we do?”

“We gotta get the shrapnel out.”

Diego sees Grace.

“Diego, where are you going?” Allison asks.

“Mom?” Diego asks.

“Oh, hello, Diego, dear.”

“What... How are you still... walking around?”

“One foot in front of the other,” Grace tells him. “Why? How do you do it?”

He gets Grace to save Five.

Klaus keeps looking at his sister nervously as he argues with Ben. She barely even registers him talking. Her concern for Luther is pushing her more than her father ever did as a kid. She ignores the throbbing behind her temples as she searches. The throbbing pain turns into a full-blown nauseating migraine as she follows a lead to a rave. After hearing someone mention the hairiest man they have ever seen. That had to be him. She pulls back all but two orbs to search. “He’s here somewhere. Find him.” She and Klaus split up.

“Anything?” Diego asks as they stand in the hall outside of Five’s room.

“There's no answer at Viktor's place,” Allison tells him. “And the receptionist at the music school said he was a no-show for his lessons today.”

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't know. It's just surreal seeing him. I just wanna tell him that I'm s -”

“We don't have enough time.” Diego says. “We gotta go.”

“I don't know, Diego.”

“Five is laying there, unconscious.”

“We need him.”

“We can do this ourselves”

“We did that already, remember? We all ended up dead.”

Allison is unsure.

“I'm just I'm thinking I should go and see Claire before,” she tells him.

“You can't run away from this, Allison,” he states. “That's what started this whole mess in the first place.” He glances at the empty rooms around them and thinks about what is happening. What has happened. Everything that still needs to be done.

“Luther was right,” he admits, much to Allison’s surprise.

“I didn't think I would ever hear you say those words,” she says.

“Yeah, well, we gotta stick together,” Diego insists.

“Where do we start?”

“There's no other addresses in the file, but there is another relation listed.”

“Jenkins' grandmother,” he tells her. “She lived near Jackpine Road.”

“You think he took her there?”

“It's a good enough place to start.”

“Nope,” Diego says and starts moving in the other direction down the road. “Come on, this way.”

“Wait,” Allison says, confused, “but the car is back that way.”

“Trust me, okay?” Diego implores. “Come on.”

“But what is going on?”

“They're here for me,” he tells her. “They think I did something.”

Allison has to ask. “What do they think you did?”

Police sirens signal that their time to chat is running out.

“Murder,” Diego answers.

Allison can’t help but ask, “Did you?”

“No, no, no, of course not, okay?” Diego insists. “Y/N was there too. Why would you ask that about me, anyway?”

“She isn’t here. And I mean, you do carry knives with you everywhere.”

“Yeah, okay, we're gonna have to split, okay?” Diego says. “I'm in charge.” He looks over at her. “Remember? Viktor needs you.”

“Don't do anything stupid, okay?” Allison says. Diego because she isn’t the sister that is usually telling him that. And he’d promised that sister that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Now here he was about to get arrested. She was not going to be happy about that.

“Drop it!” The officer tells Diego.

“Weapon on the ground, Diego.”

Diego winces in pain as his injured arm is pulled roughly.

“I expected better from you, Chuck,” Diego says.

“I got orders,” Beaman says, “You and your glowing sister. Don't make this harder than it already is.”

“Glad she’s not here then,” Diego admits.

“Diego Hargreeves, you're under arrest on the suspicion of the murder of Detective Eudora Patch.”

“Rodriguez, I thought we were friends.”

“You killed a cop, asshole.”

“You have the right to remain silent,” The cop continues. “Anything you say - can and will be used against you.”

Diego spits at him. “Use that against me.”

She can’t believe what she is seeing when she does find him. "Luther?!" She stares in shock at her hulking brother's clearly inebriated form. Shirtless and dancing like a maniac.

"Y/N/N!" Luther gestures for her to come closer and hugs her a bit too tight. He doesn't notice the way she winces at the pinch of pain in her arm. She had a feeling he'd torn a couple of her stitches, causing her to drop the Wisps forms. Her powers return to her and make her glow. He sets her back on her feet. Her hand goes up to her injured arm. "Guys! This is my sister, Y/N. You should see what you can do!"

"Her aura is so bright," someone says. She flinches back when she feels someone touch her face.

"That's nothing. You should see the Wisp!"

"Hey! Watch it. That's not my aura. It's my powers," she says, pulling back and swatting away the hands that reach for her with her good arm. She turns back to Luther. "Luther, we need to find Klaus and go home."

Her brother looks around almost comically but comes up with nothing. "But this is fun!"

She sighs. She knows she can’t physically move him. What choice does she really have. "Right, just stay here. I’m going to find Klaus my way. Don't you dare wander off on me," she points at Luther. "Okay, big brother? I need you to have my back."

"Yeah, of course," Luther nods. "Guys watch this," he says when she closes her eyes and summons multiple small orbs again. She ignores the oohs and ahhs around her and sends them out to search. "Crazy, right? So cool." She hears Luther say. "Hey, don't touch." Luther scolds someone when she feels a hand in her hair, but it's gone before she can bring more attention back.

"Klaus!" She shouts and turns to Luther. "Don't leave."

"I won't!" Luther says but she decides to leave a small whip orb with him. She goes to where she had seen their brother.

"Klaus!" she shouts, but his form is almost too still, and others seem to be gathering around him. She can feel dread creep up her spine. "Klaus, please!” She slaps his cheek. Ignoring the chatter and stares around them as her body glows intensely blue from her anxieties shining through the Wisp inside her. He wasn’t breathing. She must have said it out loud because someone comes closer and starts giving him CPR. Her normally well-maintained focus to keep the Wisp down is gone as she watches the stranger try to revive her brother. The orb she left with Luther fades as she pleads with Klaus. "Come on! You don't get to leave me too!" She can feel tears on her face as she begs. "This isn't how Five saw it, and you don't get to go without me. I can't lose both you and Ben. I can't." She lets out a laughing sob as Klaus seems to come around.

"Sunshine?" Klaus blinks at her.

"DON'T SCARE ME LIKE THAT!" She shouts as she scrambles to her feet, pulling him up and into a hug. He feels her shake.

Klaus feels a hint of guilt as Ben berates him for upsetting the one sibling that routinely cared for them. "Hey, Sunshine, I'm okay," Klaus assures her, wiping some of the tears off her face. "I'm sorry, I was…trying to help Luther."

"Luther!" She gasps, her hand going to Klaus' and dragging him back to where she had left Luther, but he was gone. She curses in every language she knows. Earning odd looks from the people around them. “ I told him to stay here. I left a Wisp with him, but I lost it when you weren't waking up."

"Sorry," Klaus says as they look around. She finds out that Luther had been kicked out. "Are you bleeding?" He looks at her arm. "We need to get that taken care of."

"We need to find Luther!"

"We can do both," he says.

They track Luther back to the Academy, and Klaus can tell his sister is practically dead on her feet. The search and panic attack she had when she found him seemed to drain any energy reserves she had been surviving on. She could hardly protest when Grace redoes her sutures and tucks her in. She’s out before Grace even leaves the room. The Wisp a dim glow in the dark room as he closes the door.

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sebsxphia · 1 year

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ugly cravings.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett is there through the testing moments of your recovery.

￫ c/w: drug and alcohol use, recovery, cravings, swearing and sobriety.

￫ a/n: as i go through recovery, i’ve found it comforting to myself to write these pieces. i hope you enjoy it and it provides any level of comfort to you as well! <3 my ‘sobriety’ masterlist can be found here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett placed your dinner plate that was brewing with noodles and well cooked vegetables on the kitchen table in front of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you thanked him before he sat down next to you, making a start on his own dinner in front of him. You scrunched your fingers in and out of your palms to steady your tremors before you picked up the chopsticks.

Your dexterity was wobbling as you poised the chopsticks to grab at the Chinese inspired dinner below you. You just about got two mouthfuls when you huffed out a deafeated laugh and dropped them to the table. “Can you get me a knife and fork please, cowboy?”

“Sure, darlin’.” Rhett fetched you a knife and fork with no hesitation and placed yet another light kiss to your forehead. Your new set of utensils made eating far more compliant as your hand vibrated. You both ate in peace, occasionally humming in pure bliss at how good it tasted and you complimented Rhett endlessly.

You didn’t notice his fleeting glances down at your hands. The domesticated silence was peaceful, but Rhett finally spoke up. “You know your support worker said this would happen, m’ love. You’re at three months, your body is adjustin’. It’ll stop soon, baby.” He reached over and gently squeezed at your quivering hand to guide your attention to what he was lovingly reassuring you about.

Your lips quirked upwards into a loving smile and you brought the back of Rhett’s hand, through shaky movements, to your lips, placing a grateful kiss to his worn hands.

One week later and Rhett crawled into bed next to you just gone midnight. You sank back a couple of beers at the bar, that was it. You could handle this. You had practiced it over and over, time and time again. It would be fine-

Until it wasn’t.

It always started in your fingertips and toes. A horrible twitch that anyone else would call, “a nervous twitch.” The ever growing feeling creeped up your nerve endings of your limbs and made them restless under the linen sheets against Rhett’s own limbs. It spread through your ribs and fisted at your ever beating heart, which was now pounding faster with every passing second. The all consuming feeling reached its ugly peak when it crawled up your throat and twitched through your nostrils, making your gums ache. It was a scratch that could never be scratched. Never reached. Never satisfied.

You were too consumed to notice Rhett shifting behind you and propping himself up on his elbow. “Sweetheart?” His voice, laced with the beginnings of sleep, cut through the dark of your room and called you back to him.

You grunted in response and shifted against him continually. “Fuck, shit. R-Rhett,” you stammered through gritted teeth, “m’ fuckin’ craving.”

There was a further shift from Rhett behind you and eventually his bedside lamp was illuminating your bedroom. “C’ ere, m’ love.” Rhett sat up against the headboard and pulled you flush against his bare chest. Your body wouldn’t stop withering and squirming under his grasp. The all possessing feeling of craving was wracking your body and making your muscles twitch and thrash against him. You could hear Rhett quietly shushing in an gentle attempt to pull you through this. He could feel the feeble groans of your frustration vibrate against his flesh.

“I know, darlin’, I know. C’ mon, you can do this, baby. Fifteen more minutes and you know the cravin’ will pass. ‘ere,” Rhett brought the tips of his fingers to your lips and you held onto them, pressing them firmly against your gums to relieve some of the ache. In between, you gently nibbled on them to soothe yourself. “There y’ go, angel. You’re doin’ so good for me. I’ve got you, my sweet girl.”

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch

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ghoulofatook · 2 years

Note

Silco got a new outfit and is feeling himself. He goes down to the bar to pick up someone.

Title: A Formidable Marinade

Characters featured = Silco + Sevika + Original Female Character.

Please be advised of the following content warnings = Evil Silco, Alcohol, Harassment, weapons, threats, knives/blades, drug use, Predatory behaviour, Creepy behaviour, power imbalance, going incognito, hidden threats, discussion of murder, allusion to domestic violence.

Please proceed below to enjoy your custom original Ironandglass generated fic.

A Formidable Marinade

Silco stares distantly out of the ornate circular window from his imposing high backed chair. The cool green light spilling out licks along the edge of his features while Sevika tries to discuss some supply issue along one of their trade lines. He always worried about his ward when she was working away, it strained at his sense of control and pulled at his insecurities. Jinx was away with a shipment through the hextech portals and without her he was always just that little bit more on edge. A bad migraine had been plaguing him all day till Sevika finally had enough of his filthy mood.

“For fucks sake, I’ll do it, you need your treatment.” She insists, her annoyed tone cutting through his daydream ripping him back into the present moment.

He swivels the chair around to face her for a moment, brows furrowed, but doesn’t argue. Instead he exhales through his nose as he reaches into a drawer to retrieve the little brass plunger mechanism loading it with a vial of shimmer. He hands it to Sevika but doesn’t let go immediately when she reaches to take it.

“Give me double” He says suddenly.

“Alright” Sevika says holding his gaze as he relinquishes the syringe to her at last.

She walks around to the side of his chair to carefully administer his dose with the violent little piece.

“It’s gonna be one of those nights then.” She says mostly to her self as she presses the plunger. Quickly stepping back out of the way while he seizes and writhes in agony. She waits till he goes still before placing the plunger over his eye again.

“You sure?” She double checks.

“Yes!” He hisses through gritted teeth, panting and exhaling. There’s a badly stifled grunt of pain as the syringe delves deep into his pupil, carving a hot line of pain that rips down his spine and curls him in on himself. The agony skitters through his bones and webs across his muscles.

As the spasms ease, he begins to feel… fantastic.

He feels amazing, he stands up, pulling out a fine embroidered handkerchief to dab at the excess that spilled from his eyes.

“If you need me, I’ll be at the bar.” He announces suddenly, striding swiftly off to his room.

Sevika sits back on the lounge and cradles her head in her hands with elbows on her knees. Mumbling to herself.

“Yep, one of those nights.”

~~~

Silco strides out into the bar through a side entrance, rather than his usual hallway. Tonight he wears a fine embellished suit of silver and black. The silver embroidered detail at his cuff accenting his look perfectly. He would need to send a tip to the tailor for his fine craftsmanship he thinks as he secures the final carved pearl button at his wrist.

He also wears a lovely black and silver gilded respirator, one eye lens clear glass, the other a mirror lense to hide his red eye from unsuspecting prey. Undercover tonight among his people, he can exist in a playful state of exploration and indulgence.

He strolls through the VIP bar, but nothing in particular catches his eye or draws him to investigate, so he sweeps slowly down the stairs to the main bar, scanning the pulsing crowd as he goes.

There, a gorgeous, proud looking woman seated at the bar. Her clothes are simple but her posture and the light in her eyes is forged in regal fire.

He strides through the crowd to take a place on a bar stool at her side.

“Whisky” he throws down a generous tip and the barman obliges enthusiastically. As he waits for his drink to be prepared he carefully unzips the mouthpiece to his respirator so that he may drink without removing it. Thanking the barman once the drink is slid across the bartop into his hand.

He sips it, not turning towards her yet, just drinking her in. Trying to get a read on the strange creature that has drawn his wicked interest for the evening.

She cradles a glass of ale in one hand while she absently rolls he tip of her index finger across her lip with the other. Clearly deep in serious thought.

“You look like you’d rather be elsewhere” Silco throws the line like bait out towards her finally.

She turns to him with unimpressed disapproval.

“What are you meant to be? Some Pilty tourist that couldn’t get into the VIP lounge?”

Silco raises his eyebrows.

“It’s quite dull up there I’ll have you know.”

“In Piltover?” She sips her ale smirking at him tauntingly. She was very quick witted, this will be interesting.

Silco concedes a small dark smile back.

“In the VIP lounge I mean.” He adds pointedly.

“Your accent gives you away topsider, go to the sumps if you want an experience.” She says turning away from him.

She feels him move closer to her and she freezes as a small knife is suddenly pressed to her ribs.

“Is this very Pilty of me?” He whispers close to her ear so that only she can hear. It was the height of offence in Zaun to be accused of being a Pilty.

“Okay, okay, cool your horses daddy’o” She raises her hands backing down, sounding somewhat annoyed now.

“I’m waiting for my wife” He announces and she watches him slip the little blade back up into his sleeve.

“Oh thank the gods, I thought you were hitting on me!” She laughs placing a hand on his upper arm.

“I wouldn’t dream of it little dove. Are you waiting for someone yourself?”

“I’m waiting for my husband…” her words trail off into soft muttering.

“What was that?” Silco enquires taking a sip of his whiskey.

“I’m waiting for my husband, I said.” She repeats clearly this time.

“Hrmm” says Silco, swirling the single large ice cube around in his glass.

“So what’s your gig? Slingin‘ purp?” She says eyeing his lavish clothing pointedly before meeting his eyes.

Silco feigns offence at her very accurate accusation.

“I am the proud owner of a breathing station if you must know my dear” He proclaims voice tinged with well contrived offence. He enjoys the thrill of not having overtly lied to her once, one of his little games that he liked to play. It kept things interesting.

She sighs “I’m sorry I’m a little-”

Her words are cut short when a young messenger child comes and whispers in Silco’s ear. He nods once tipping the child as he stands and tucks his chair in.

“I’m terribly sorry miss…?” He offers his hand towards her in a polite goodbye.

“Ren” she said reaching up to shake his hand but once it’s within reach he deftly flips it in his and quickly presses a kiss to the top.

“I must go Miss Ren, my wife is waiting for me. Have yourself a lovely evening.” He says letting her hand go.

“Sure, No problem.” Ren says to his back as he strolls away.

She deflates as she sighs into her drink, of all the nights she could attract crazies of course it had to be tonight.

Another large figure takes the seat next to her and she insistently looks forward not catching their eye.

“That guy bothering you?” Comes the voice of Sevika, though she is not familiar to Ren.

“Nah, just some old kook” Ren replies taking a deep swig of her beer.

“You know who that was right?” Sevika chances out of curiosity.

“He owns a breathing station, some rich Pilty wannabe.” Ren waves her hand dismissively, as if to brush the topic away.

Sevika smirks broadly and lights a cigarette.

~~~

After a few hours, the small business matter had been resolved with next to no bloodshed and Silco quickly changes back into his black and silver garb to see if the enticing creature at the bar was still available to play.

He’s delighted to see her still in the same place as he makes his way down the VIP stairs towards the lower bar, it looks as if she is a little tipsy now, having relaxed with the help of a few more glasses of beer to soothe her rattled nerves.

“Ah Miss Ren, you’re still here?” Silco takes back his seat, the waiter quickly delivering him another Whiskey.

“Where is your wife?” She eyes him grumpily.

“Where is your husband” He shoots back conspiratorially.

“Hopefully dead by now.” She says coldly while taking a deep gulp of her beer.

“Ah” Said Silco, this woman was deliciously intriguing.

“Do you even have a wife?” She asks suddenly flicking him a side eye to see his response.

“No, of course not.” He replies, not missing a beat.

Ren sniffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“I’ll give it to ya, you’re persistent!” She laughs out wearily.

“I just know the steps to the dance.” He states confidently, in a way that almost sounds like a threat.

“God you’re insufferable. You know that? Entitled, rude, pushy.” Ren snaps at him, reaching the end of her tether.

Silco waits patiently for her to finish her little frustrated outburst, secretly delighted by her fire.

“I just need to be here so I have a solid alibi while I wait for some goons to murder my husband, okay? I don’t need this!” Ren gestures at Silco emphatically.

“Ah that is most unfortunate.” Silco admits, as if they were discussing a mild weather forecast.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it Mr.Fresh Air?” Ren asks more than a little annoyed by his cool response.

“Nothing, I’m sure you have your reasons.” Silco says plainly, taking another unbothered sip of his whiskey.

“Then why is it unfortunate?” Ren demands.

“Unfortunate for your husband of course.” He says obviously.

She’s silent for a beat before taking a long drink of her ale.

“He deserves it.” Ren says softly but firmly, standing to grab her coat off the back of her chair. “I’m doing what needs to be done.” She adds pulling her coat on.

Silco reaches out and gently grabs her upper arm, standing up to face her, to look into her eyes once more before she can leave. Under his touch she winces away slightly and looks up at his visible ice blue eye with defiant fury.

“What’s your damage creep?” She asks through gritted teeth, looking furiously up at him.

Silco laughs in delight.

“I don’t think we have the time to explore that right now.” He confesses.

“This is me, leaving” she says, pulling out of his grip and stepping away from him. As she strides away she turns around still walking backwards to call out. “Stay the HELL away from me.” She hisses venomously before turning away again and disappearing into the crowd.

Sevika, who had been watching the whole thing from her nearby booth strolls over to stand by Silco’s side.

“Well that went well.” She says, looking with Silco at the empty space in the crowd where Ren had been mere moments earlier.

“She is captivating” Silco whispers.

—-

✨ Thank you for reading. ✨

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killemwithkawaii · 2 years

Note

Hi this is my first time asking a question but, I wanted to ask what if yan!Sal find out that his darling is like a stripper or something. Sorry if that’s weird. I hope I’m not bothering you with this question.

I got this ask over a year ago and started a draft and then it went off the rails a little and became its own thing BUT I hope you still enjoy it (and are also still around to read this lol) 👍

Yan!Sal and his Stripper Darling-

[CW: NSFW lime, yandere, stalking, delusion, manipulation, drinking, mention of violence against/ dehumanization of sex workers, mention of cannibalism, Sals savior complex and low self-esteem are showing, Chug binge eats at the gender-neutral strip club buffet]

>Sal met [darling] when he got dragged to the only strip club in town for Chugs bachelor party. He and Maple would be tying the knot soon, and so his best (single) buddies (mostly Larry) decided they ought to give him one last hurrah before he was married with child(ren), as any decent friends would do. Sal agreed to come along to celebrate, despite knowing it would likely be a very uncomfortable night for him. Bars and clubs weren’t exactly his scene, and the added pressure of staying composed and attempting to flirt while making sure Larry and Chug didn’t make fools of themselves made it sound like an even more stressful experience, but it was just one night. He’d live. (hopefully)

>Once all three of them got inside, Larry and Chug were having a great time, Chug enjoying the buffet more than the babes, and Larry pulling out his cheesiest lines (and a comically large wad of $1s) to get the dancers to laugh and spend a little extra time on his lap. Sal was discreetly enjoying the views the club had to offer, although the bouncer had been less than polite about letting him in with his ‘mask’, and most of the scantily-clad employees didn’t seem too keen on approaching him and offering him their services. He had caught the attention of most of the staff upon entry, but when the other members of his party were behaving like typical patrons while he sat back and quietly nursed a cheap mocktail, they assumed that he must just be the reluctant designated driver of the bachelor party and left him alone, save for a few awkward offers for sloppy seconds after they’d been grinding on Larry and Chug for a while (which was a small consolation and inadvertently insulting all at once). Sal always declined politely, and the relief that flashed on each dancers faces when he did made him sink a little deeper into his chair each time. He decided that he was totally fine just soaking in the scenery, but after a few hours, he was starting to get sick of sipping on cranberry juice and watching everyone else have a good time.

>[Darling] noticed that the creepy/mysterious masked man who had caused a stir earlier was looking less than comfortable. It was getting late, and Sal started to feel a headache setting in. Larrys wad of $1s was growing slim, but certainly not gone, and Chug had once again wandered off to check and see if the kitchen had sent out any fresh hot wings to the buffet. Sally had gotten bored with attempting origami with his napkin and the ice he'd been swirling around his glass with a straw had finally melted down to nothing, leaving him to tap his feet and pick at his nails until his friends ran out of cash and they finally decided they could all go home.

>[Darling] plopped down next to Sally (not Larry or Chug), which startled him. [Darling] wasted no time laying on the charm, putting a hand on his knee and sweetly asking his name and if he was having a good time with his friends. He said ‘Yes, thank you,’ despite every indication otherwise, and when [Darling] didn’t look convinced, Sal sheepishly mentioned he has a bit of a headache from all the flashing lights and loud music, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t put up with.

“Ah, I know how that is- I mean, this place is supposed to be stimulating, but the strobes can be a bit much, even for me… Do you need a little break? I can take you somewhere away from all the commotion, if you want. Your friends seem like they’ll be fine on their own for a few minutes...” Sal looked over at Larry and Chug, both of whom were too preoccupied by their preferred form of meat being shoved in their faces to pay him any attention. They probably wouldn’t notice if he stepped out for a second, right?

“Yeah, I guess they’ll be okay…” Before he could finish his thought, [Darling] grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him away from the table. Sal heard Larry and Chug holler a slurred “Yeah Sally, get soooome,” over the blaring music as he was beckoned through a doorway to a private lounge.

>Despite there being plenty of comfortable chairs, [Darling] opted to use Sals lap as a seat, draping their thighs across Sals and wrapping their arms around his neck before they started whispering small-talk into his ear. They asked him if he wanted to take his mask off and ‘Get a little more comfortable.” When he admitted it was a prosthetic, [Darling] started to coo (‘oh, you poor, poor thiiing~!! C’mere, let [Darling] make you feel all better…’) and brought him into a hug, pressing his face into their chest and playing with his pigtails. Sal felt himself flush, not used to getting this sort of attention, and his headache quickly dissipated, all the blood that had been building pressure in his brain draining elsewhere.

>Another song started playing at a low volume. [Darling] pointed out that the lights were low and it was just the two of them- it would really be a shame for them to not take advantage. They gingerly guided Sals hands to touch them, over their lips, neck, sides, hips, thighs, and back over their chest as they straddled him. If he wasn’t beet-red before, he certainly was now ([Darling] said they could tell, judging by the tips of his ears.) He was quickly worn down by their coaxing, and moved to unlatch the straps of his prosthetic after [darling] promised not to look. They held his bare face against their skin, twirling the ends of his hair and lightly scratching up and down his back while slowly but firmly grinding down on him, allowing his shaky hands to wander wherever he dared to put them. They give him a long kiss on the top of his head as the song ended, saying they hated to cut their time short, but they really had to get back to the floor and earn their pay for the day.

>Sal rambled out ‘thank you’s and ‘of course’s and ‘sorry’s as he hurriedly put his prosthetic back on and reached into his pocket, giving [darling] the two twenties he had in his wallet. He apologized, saying that it’s probably rude to give them so little, but he really hadn't planned on being a big spender that night.

“Aw, don’t worry about it, Cutie Face. Maybe you can come to the club again sometime? Make it up to me? I’d love to help you out if you get another headache…” they winked and exited the lounge, leaving Sal to collect himself before he emerged and was greeted by the drunken whooping of his friends.

>The boys eventually left in a taxi, once Larry was out of pickup lines and $1s and Chug needed to go home and sleep off all the drumsticks and nachos he’d been eating. That night, Sal couldn’t stop thinking of [Darling], replaying the nice things they said to him and the nice things they did to him in his mind, periodically reminding himself that they were only acting out a character and doing their job, but not being able to help but wonder if a part of the act had been genuine...

>Sal went back to the club alone a couple days later and requested [darling] as soon as he was through the doors. They greeted him by name (‘Cutie Face’) and threw their arms around him, giving him a peck on the prosthetic cheek before taking him to a table. Sal didn’t waste much time before he handed [darling] $100- “Payment for last time, plus some interest for the wait.” [Darling] insisted it was too much and that he should get something for the change- another ‘headache treatment,’ and Sal had to admit, he did start to feel a certain throbbing on his way over…

>The cycle continued, and Sally became more and more infatuated with [Darling], eventually making bi-weekly trips to the club to see them. Against his better judgment, he believed them when they started gushing about him, saying how happy they were whenever he came in and how he was their very favorite customer (Sal had heard [darling] say the same things to other Johns, but he could have sworn they said it a little differently to him…).

>Once Sal had proven himself to be a respectful guy looking to spend what he had, [darling] started spending more time with him, letting him get a little bit farther each day he came in- never too far, but he noticed they’d been getting generous with the two-for-one song deals, and they firmly guided his hands over their body with purpose, as opposed to the general feel-up they offered their other clients. They also didn’t flinch when he decided to finally bare his scars in the low-lit privacy of the lounge (they did turn around for a while after, but it was only so they could bend over and shake their ass in his face, now that it was uncovered and he could really enjoy it.)

>When Sal wasn’t at the club, he thought about [Darling] constantly- At night when he was trying to sleep, in class during lectures, while hunting for ghosts and sabotaging cult plans… He started wondering what [Darling] was up to, what they were like out of character, and where they spent their time outside of work… as much as he was falling for them, he had started to get worried about them, too.

>All this thinking led Sal to the conclusion that [Darling] was vulnerable- to the less-than-polite customers they’d started to occasionally complain about to him, and to the cult. Sex workers, despite their inherent worth as people and the unwaveringly high demand for their services, were often seen as lesser and dispensable by society, especially in a religious (cult) town like Nockfell. [Darling] was a prime target for being recruited into the flock or used as a sacrifice in one of their cannibalistic rituals. What would he do if he showed up to the club when he knew they were supposed to be working, only to find out they hadn’t shown up for their shift…?

>So, Sal decided he should keep his eye on [Darling] for their own safety. He started escorting them home from work without their knowledge, at first just to make sure they got there unharmed, but lingering more and more each time, just to watch them be them. Through observation, he began to get to know who the real [Darling] was in their personal life. The more he watched, the more he felt like they could share a real connection (and avoid a cruel fate at the hands of the D.O.G.) if they only agreed to see him when they were off the clock and fully clothed…

>During his visits, Sal started casually bringing up things in conversation that he knew [darling] was interested in, and showed them genuine concern on days where he could tell they had something on their mind (he didn’t know what it was, exactly, but his educated guesses were never far off). Little by little, [Darling] started opening up to him, going beyond the scripted conversations they had with every other patron, starting to let their guard down despite all their instincts telling them otherwise. After a few months, [Darling] even went so far as to tell Sal their real name (Sal already knew it, of course, but it was nice to be able to use it around them now). Sal somehow made [darling] feel safe, which was a hard thing for them to feel in Nockfell, especially after some dancers had said they’d been seeing someone hanging out in the alley behind the club after closing…

>The day of Chug and Maple’s wedding was a few days away. Sal had made sure to keep [Darling] updated on all the preparations, since Chug getting married was kind of the reason he and [Darling] had met in the first place. They’d helped him decide on an outfit and choose the right words for his toast, but Sal (purposefully) never mentioned if he had anybody to go with.

“So, you’ve got your dress picked out, your speech memorized, and you’ve been practicing your dance moves…”

“Yup! Want me to show you a few?”

“Hey, no stealing the spotlight, Cutie. You’ll hog all the tips!”

“That’s very true, with the killer moves I’ve got down.”

“Haha… well, it sounds like you’ve got everything covered. Except for one thing…”

“And what’s that?”

“A date. You don’t want to show up to the big shindig without a pretty, young thing on your arm, do you?”

“Dang, you’re right, that would be embarrassing. Hmm, now where am I gonna find one of those…”

“If you don’t have anyone in mind, I’m not scheduled at the club that day.”

“Oooh, the true VIP experience, huh? What’ll that cost me?”

“Hmm… how about dinner and a slow dance?”

“That sounds fair. I might even make it a two-for-one, juuust for you.” (Sal did his best to wink. Judging by [darling]s smile, he did just fine.)

“Deal. And if all that music and commotion gives you a headache again, I’ll be sure to take you somewhere quiet and help you feel better.”

“Heh, sounds like I might be paying some interest after the wedding…”

“Oh yeah. You’ll be paying me off forever, Sally.”

“A lifetime of debt to a pretty, young thing… Yup, worth it. It’s a date, [Darling].”

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