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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

Hi!! I hope you’re well !! Thank you so much for keeping the Jaimie Tartt community well fed like I will forever be in your debt you’re amazing‼️‼️ My humble request is in honor of SNTV:) My favorite songs are Enchanted and Sparks Fly so maybe a complicated angsty start up to a fluffy love confession (like they just haven’t gotten the timing right until now or they were friends and then something happens to her). IDK anyway sorry for the word vomit and thank you bunches for all your hard work!!

I loved this request!! Also sorry, all my fics seem to be ending the same way this days😬 But we keep getting to the ending in new and exciting ways so hopefully no one cares! Enjoy!

wonderstruck

You knew the moment you met Keeley Jones that your friendship was going to be a wild ride. You were still in uni, and had picked up a one-off job as one extra on a commercial shoot. The pay wasn’t bad (hey, it was extra money) and you were willing to sacrifice a Saturday for it. Keeley was one of the frontrunners for the commercial, all big hair and wild makeup. You had bumped into her by chance at the food table, started talking, and the rest was history. One random job turned into a solid four years of friendship. It was a funny dynamic between you and Keeley, because she was both older sister and antagonizer. She liked to pull you out of your comfort zone, taking you to clubs, parties, events, whatever as her plus one. Well, until she started dating a prick footballer named Jamie Tartt.

You didn’t meet him while they were together. You’d already known Keeley for two and a half years at that point, and understood she had shit taste in men. You weren’t afraid to tell her that to her face and she’d just laugh and say, “I know babes, but it’s right fun, innit?”

You’d laugh and shake your head, then go back to carefully painting her nails in the brightest, sparkliest colors imaginable.

Keeley was really, really good for you.

She called you the night she broke up with Jamie, and you came over to her house with a giant bottle of champagne only to find her and another woman, a Rebecca Welton, already proper tipsy and giggling on the floor. They were still dolled up from that night’s benefit while you were in pajamas, but you didn’t let that stop you. You downed half a bottle while Keeley and Rebecca cheered. You were glad Keeley had dumped that awful, cheating, self-absorbed prick. She deserved so much better.

You were glad when she started dating Roy Kent. He was a lot more down-to-earth than she was, and they were a good balance for each other. You wondered if Keeley gravitated toward those of a more serious nature in the same way you were drawn to those who were more spontaneous.

Post-uni, you had started your own business. It was kind of a random venture, something you had begun for a friend, but then it took off. You made the most outrageous, eccentric day-to-day dresses, taking a simple pattern then transforming it with wild patterns, tulle, and the occasional sparkle. Keeley, angel that she was, modeled some of them and put them on her instagram. And just like that, you were selling out.

It was absolutely insane, but you were able to spend the week making two dresses and then turn over a nice profit. You felt like you were overcharging but Keeley said, “Babe, if you’re selling out, you might be undercharging.”

All that to say, life with Keeley Jones as your friend was absolutely magical. You’d do anything for her. Including going to a fucking benefit as her plus one.

—

“Why can’t you just take Roy?”

“Roy’s already got his own invite. He’s a coach, so he has to be there even though he’s going to fucking hate it.” Keeley laughs. She thinks Roy’s grumpiness is endearing.

“Alright, why’d you get a plus one then? It doesn’t make sense, Keels,” you counter.

Keeley refuses to meet your eyes. “It’s entirely possible that Rebecca gave me one so that you’d come.”

“Keeleyyy,” you groan.

She shoves your shoulder playfully. “She knew if she sent you a direct invite you wouldn’t go, and she said she’d let us meet up at her house to get ready together! C’mon babes, it’s going to be so much fun and we’ll look sooo fucking fit walking the red carpet together, yeah?”

She gives you her widest puppy-dog eyes, lower lip pushing out. You sigh.

“Fucking fine. Fine. But you’re coming with me to pick out a dress. And you’re buying my coffee.”

Keeley cheers and tackles you in a hug. “You won’t regret it, I swear. Worst case you can just bitch about it with Roy the next day.” You laugh. You and Roy bitch about a lot of things together.

—

The red carpet is absolutely terrifying. It’s louder than you would have thought and the flashes from the camera are giving you a headache.

“How the hell do you do this?” you ask Keeley through a smile.

She laughs for the cameras. “Loads of practice, babe,” she replies in a perfect pose. “Now look at me and laugh at something I said.”

You’re almost done and the paps are asking for a photo of Keeley and Roy, so you wait off to the side near the entrance for them. You crane your neck to try to find Rebecca, to no avail. You do however catch the eye of someone with a very nice fashion sense and very, very blue eyes. He gives you a once-over and grins. You blush and turn back to Keeley and Roy who have finished and are making their way over to you. Keeley grabs your hand and says, “Hi Jamie!” while Roy rolls his eyes. Jamie says, “Hey Keeley,” and nods to Roy. “Grandad.”

“Fuck you,” Roy replies, and you’re surprised at the borderline affectionate tone he’s using. Especially considering Jamie is Keeley’s ex. He’s not really what you would have expected, but you don’t have time to dwell on that because Keeley’s dragging you inside the benefit venue.

—

Jamie is sitting at the same table as you.

Correction: he’s sitting right fucking next to you and it’s all you can do to avoid eye contact with him. You had introduced yourself to him with a barely suppressed grimace and steeled yourself for a long, misogyny-filled night.

You were so tense that Keeley put her hand on your knee and said, “I’ve got to go reapply my lipliner, d’you want to come with?”

You got up and followed her, feeling far too exposed in your backless, purple-sequined dress.

“Alright babe, what gives?” she asks once you’ve made it to the bathroom. “You’re wound up so tight I could stick coal up your ass and get a diamond.”

That makes you crack a smile and you shrug. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, I’ve had four years of practice knowing exactly when you’re telling me a fib.”

“Who’s fibbing?” Rebecca says, walking in the door. “I saw Keeley drag you in here, and I didn’t want to miss out on some girl talk.”

“Oh thank god you’re here,” you say, relieved. “I’ve been looking for you for the past hour and couldn’t find you.”

Rebecca self-consciously smooths her hair. “I’ve been- busy,” she says. “But this isn’t about me. What are you fibbing about?”

You look between Rebecca and Keeley then deflate. “I have to sit next to Jamie Tartt.”

Keeley and Rebecca share a look. “I don’t see what that’s such a bad thing,” Rebecca says.

You look at her in disbelief. “Jamie Tartt? The biggest prick in all of London, and quite possibly all of England? Cheated on Keeley multiple times and all-around arsehole?”

Keeley grimaces. “Yeah, not one of his finer points in life.”

“See?” you say. “He’s the fucking worst!” Rebecca and Keeley share another look.

“Stop fucking doing that,” you say. “What?”

“Darling,” Rebecca says gently, “he’s changed.”

You’re not buying it, a sentiment that is evident in your expression.

“It’s true, babes,” Keeley affirms. “And look, I’d probably be the fucking last person to say it. But he has! He’s loads better than he used to be, an absolute sweetheart. Even Roy loves him.”

You snort.

“Okay, maybe love is a strong word,” Keeley amends. “But he likes him! Roy said Jamie’s the best player on the team, and possibly one of the best in the country!”

You’re still not buying it.

“Listen,” Rebecca says. “Give him one hour free of bias. Forget who he was and give him a chance. You might be surprised.”

You look to Keeley, unsure. It is her ex, after all.

To your surprise, she’s smiling and nodding. “Go for it,” she says. “You never know what could happen.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you laugh. Only Keeley Jones could try to pawn her ex off on her best friend with the confident assurance that he’s a better man now. You know she’s not lying, or at least she believes Jamie’s changed. You’re not sure what to believe, but you’ll take Rebecca’s advice and give Jamie one hour to change your mind.

—

You’re not in your seat two seconds before Jamie starts talking to you.

“Why d’you look so nervous love? I don’t bite.” He grins. “Much.”

You catch yourself before you grimace and instead say, “This whole thing isn’t really my scene. It’s a lot of people I don’t know, and I’m only here ‘cause Keels asked me to be her plus one.”

Jamie still has that obnoxious grin on his face. “What does Roy think about you stealing his girlfriend? Can’t imagine he’d take it lying down.”

You glance over at Keeley and Roy. His arm is around the back of her chair and she’s leaning into him ever so slightly.

You say, “I’ve been here longer than he has, so if anyone’s stolen her, it’s him,” and you watch the pieces click into place in Jamie’s head.

“Shit,” he says. “You’re the best friend. Shoulda known when you told me your name.”

You shrug.

“Makes sense,” he continues. “I wondered why you weren’t fuckin’ beside yourself to be sitting by the fittest bloke in the room.”

You roll your eyes, hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He pulls his chair a little closer and looks at you again with those perfect blue eyes. “Seriously, I am sorry. I was a prick. It took Keeley breaking up with me for me to start gettin’ my head out of me arse.” Jamie’s words back up what Keeley and Rebecca told you. You’re not entirely ready to brush his past under the rug, but tell him that it seems like he did a right proper job of it, which makes him laugh.

“Do you really think you’re the fittest guy in here?” you ask.

Jamie gestures to the room. “Look around, babe. I ain’t lying.”

You laugh, and the tension dispels. You’ve 55 minutes to go, and then you can go back to hating him. For now, you’ll let him keep cracking jokes.

—

The hour is up, but you’re still talking to Jamie. You don’t stop to consider why he’s still talking to you (maybe because he can’t stand the idea of anyone hating him) but he is. It’s actually enjoyable, so when he asks you to accompany him to the dance floor, you look to Keeley for approval instead of outright rejecting him.

Keeley says, “Go on babe, I’m gonna try to convince this one to get out there for at least one dance,” and Roy says, “Fuck no.”

You let Jamie take your hand as he promises, “No funny business, I swear,” and you just laugh.

You laugh through three songs because Jamie has a way of making you giggle. He swings you around and executes all kinds of moves that you’re sure you could never replicate, but you assume that being a Premier League footballer means he’s got to be coordinated. Makes sense that he can dance.

The fourth song is a slow one, so you move to leave the dance floor but Jamie catches your hand.

“Stay,” he says. “I’m having a really great time with you.”

You feel Keeley kick the bottom of your shoe from where she’s swaying with her arms around Roy’s neck.

It makes you stumble a little, just enough for Jamie to have to catch you. He grins. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

He puts your hands around his neck and his on your waist. It’s a soft touch, but you can feel sparks shooting up your hipbones.

You’re absolutely fucked.

Jamie doesn’t say a single thing, just sways along with the soft music and gazes into your eyes. You can’t look away no matter how hard you try.

The song ends and you let go of Jamie. He slides a hand up you waist and down your arm, lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses your inner wrist.

Before you can form a coherent thought, he’s gone.

Rebecca and Keeley are on you in a moment.

“You’re both coming to mine,” Rebecca says. “You have time to go home and get pajamas, but I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. I just made sure my pantry was restocked.”

—

It’s 2am. Rebecca and Keeley have successfully gotten you to admit that you like Jamie.

Against all odds, you like him.

Fuck.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” you ask Keeley as you pace around Rebecca’s bedroom.

“For the millionth time, babe,” she says, “I really don’t. I think you two would be fucking adorable together.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “I’m on Keeley’s side on this one. Jamie used to be a right little shit, but he’s really turned it around. And could you please stop wearing a hole in my rug? It’s giving me anxiety.”

You abruptly stop and plop down on the bed. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he was only trying to make me not hate him because I’m Keeley’s best friend?”

Rebecca makes an offended noise so you amend: “Sorry, one of Keeley’s best friends?”

“Listen,” Keeley says making her way to your spot on the end of the bed. She holds your arms. “I know Jamie. He was fucking interested. And he hasn’t been that way in a while. You should just fucking go for it.”

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. Rebecca and Keeley groan and flop back onto the bed.

“You’re absolutely hopeless,” Rebecca says, but it’s laced with affection. You grin.

“That’s why you love me.”

—

You don’t sleep. Keeley is sandwiched between you and Rebecca on Rebecca’s absolutely massive bed, and all you can think about is Jamie’s blue eyes and the sparks of electricity you felt wherever he touched you.

You can still feel the kiss on your wrist.

—

It rains for three days and you refuse to go to Nelson Road. Keeley’s out sick anyway, and Rebecca is busy with work. You are too, working on a commission in electric blue. It’s very cozy inside your flat, soft music playing as the rain plinks on your roof. You’re wearing your good sweats, the ones that match and don’t have stains. Your hair is freshly clean and pulled back in a clip and there’s a pot of tea on the stove.

Your heartbeat has not been normal since dancing with Jamie. It’s beating in an irregular pattern, horrendously out of sync with the calming sound of rain. You can’t get it to calm down so you decide to indulge and replay your entire interaction with Jamie, as a treat.

You’re just thinking about his hands on your waist and letting your mind wander to where else you think they should go, when there’s a knock on the door. You frown.

That’s odd. Who on earth could be at your door at 7pm on a Monday in pouring rain? You pad across the living room to the door and open it to find a very wet Jamie.

“Hi,” he says, and then he’s pulling you onto the porch and kissing you in the pouring rain.

You’re soaked through to the bone, but you don’t care. All you can feel is Jamie’s hair as you run your fingers through and his lips on yours as they devour you. It’s straight out of a movie.

You shiver, and Jamie breaks away.

“Got your address from Keeley,” he says. “She’s the one who told me to come here. Can we go inside?”

You nod mutely and let him in. “Aren’t you cold?” you ask.

He just laughs. “Nah babe, I run hot. You look right fucking freezing, though. Good thing I’m here, I’ll help you warm right up.”

You’re really starting to shiver. “You should get out of those clothes,” you say through chattering teeth.

“Could say the same about you,” Jamie replies. “Where’s your bedroom at?”

You all but drag him up the stairs to your room.

You think you’re going to kill Keeley for telling Jamie you liked him, but then you’re flat on your back, bare skin pressing into the duvet as Jamie Tartt presses hot kisses up your neck, and you forget all about her.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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hotgirlgraps · 1 year

Text

crossed hearts

synopsis: two strangers make a drunken promise in the heat of the moment

A/N: sorry for taking a million years to post a fic. i know y’all have been asking and i’ve been putting it off for weeks soooo i took a few whole business days to conjure this up for y’all and i hope you loveee it!! enjoy babes!!

18+ only

You were quite content as you sat on the edge of the pool, legs submerged beneath the cool water and your face towards the sun, soaking up the last bit of the end of summer heat.

You had your airpods in to drown out the loud chatter and occasional children screaming when their parents tossed them in the deep end. You couldn’t help but laugh when a little boy, who had been thrown in the pool at least ten times, kept running back over to where his parents were sitting just to beg his dad to throw him in again.

You were about to watch him get launched from the diving board for the umpteenth time, but that’s when something else just so happened to catch your attention.

You felt something hit your back and turned around to find a foam football that a group of guys had been tossing around a little ways away.

You grabbed the football before it rolled off the edge of the pool and looked up at the man who came jogging after it.

“Shit, sorry about that. My friend’s got bad aim.” He chuckled as he extended his hands. You tossed the ball back to him and glanced over at the other three guys exchanging not so discreet laughs as they watched on.

You pulled one airpod out of your ear and looked back up at him, offering a simple smile as you said, “It’s alright, just tell him he might not need to pursue a football career anytime soon.”

He dropped his head and laughed, and you took immediate notice of the dimples that decorated his cheeks when his smile widens. His eyes were hidden by a pair of shades but if you could see them, you’d imagine he’d have a couple crinkles by them when he laughs that hard.

He glanced over his shoulder and the boys who were waiting for him. Their laughter had died down and now they were standing around with confused looks on their faces, probably wondering why that man hadn’t returned yet.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing he’s a pro wrestler then.” He shrugs his shoulder as he looks back down at you, keeping that dimple fledged smile on his face. “We all are, actually.”

“Pro wrestler? That sounds like an exciting career.” You say as you take a sip from your margarita that was starting to go down a little too smooth. “I’d love to make a living beating people’s ass.”

He chuckled again, tossing the football between his hands as he started stepping side to side.

“I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. That’s why we’re here right now. Got a show tonight, and uh, yeah.” He says as he adverts his eyes down to your margarita you placed next to you.

You glanced back over at the group of guys now with all their arms crossed over their chests, talking amongst themselves as they impatiently waited their friend to get back.

“Well I think your friends are getting tired of waiting.” you point over to the guys, and he looks back over his shoulder at them. “So don’t let me keep you distracted.” you joked, watching as another dimple fledged smile formed on his face.

“Alright, well, i’ll see you, uh-?”

“Y/N. You?”

“Tyler” he grins as he takes a few steps back before he turns around and jogs back over to the other guys.

You turned back around and put the airpod back in your ear as you took the last few sips from your glass, only then realizing that it was empty, and obviously you needed to head over to the swim-up bar for another one.

You lowered yourself off the edge, feeling the coolness of the water against your heated skin, refreshingly so. You kept your glass above the surface as you made your way towards the bar, unknowingly being watched by that same boy until his friends called him out on it.

“Dude, you talked to her for like, five minutes.” Darius says as he catches the football Tyler tossed to his chest. “Should’ve just asked for her number instead of staring at her like a creep.”

“I’m not even looking at her.” Tyler lies as he barely catches the ball when his friend passes it back. “I was looking at the water. It’s hot, i’m bout to jump in.”

Action and Anthony exchanged looks before they started passing the ball between each other, excluding Tyler as he pulled his shirt and sunglasses off and tossed them down on the chair.

Darius looked back over, finding you just as you took your place with a full glass you started sipping on. You could practically feel eyes burning into you, but you did your best not to acknowledge that. It was making you feel a little nervous, but thankfully the liquor in your frosty drink was strong enough to mask that.

A couple seconds passed by before you heard an enormous splash and you got covered in the drops of water from the impact.

You watched to see who was resurfacing, and couldn’t say you were surprised to see that it was Tyler.

“Hey again.” you called out to him.

“Hey.” he grinned, finding his footing when he got to the shallow side and standing up, exposing Sculpted, sharp abs and a couple more tattoos.

You had to keep yourself from letting your eyes wander, but it was hard to do. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly until he was satisfied with how the slick locks landed against his forehead. He then made his way towards you and lifted himself up to sit on the edge, leaving a little distance between you.

“Done throwing the ball?” you asked, feeling the need to take another sip from your glass as the nerves started to become a little too unavoidable.

You couldn’t help it, he was strikingly handsome and now that he didn’t have those shades covering his eyes, you got to see the rich, deep shade of them and, well, brown eyes have always been a weakness for you.

“I am.” he says as he sways one leg beneath the water. “It got hot, needed to cool down.”

“Yeah. That’s why I have this.” You tipped your glass before you took another sip, watching as an eased smirk slipped across his lips as he looked back at you.

“I might get something when I get back tonight. Probably not a margarita, but something with some alcohol in it.” he says before he looks down at the water.

“When are you getting back?” you asked, unsure why you did in the first place. It felt weird right after you said it but before you could cringe about it, he was already answering.

“Probably around midnight.” he says, “Maybe a little later, I never really know. Kind of wanted to go somewhere and see what this city is all about before I have to leave again.”

“Well what would you wanna do? I know this place pretty well. I can tell you if something’s worth it or not, so you don’t waste the little time you have.”

“I don’t know, maybe a club or something? But, then again, I might just come back here and chill for the night. I’m probably gonna be tired anyway.” He shrugs as he keeps his eyes from roaming over to you, out of sheer nervousness he was starting to feel simply because your attention was solely on him, and for some reason, it flustered him.

“Well if you do decide to go out, there’s a couple places not far from here that-“

“Yo, Tyler, we gotta head out man!” You were cut off by one of the guys calling out to him from a little ways away, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the three of them approaching, all with weird smirks on their faces.

One of the guys stepped forward, flashing a bright smile down at you. “Hey, sorry about hitting you with the football earlier. And for the record, I’m not planning on joining the NFL anytime soon.”

You looked over at Tyler who was trying to keep the smirk off of his lips, but failing miserably. Then you looked back up at the guy, a little at a loss for words because you didn’t actually expect Tyler to tell him you said that.

“But for real, sorry about that.” He says with a wide grin. “I’m Action, also.” He extends his hand, expecting you to shake it, which wasn’t typically something people around your age, as you assumed he was, tended to do anymore.

You reached up and took his hand, and he gently shook it before another guy decided to introduce himself. The one who seemed to keep a weird grin plastered across his face.

“I’m Anthony.” He gave you a little wave. That only led you to expect the last man to follow the others up, so you glanced over at him, but he kept his eyes on Tyler.

“Darius.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off the man next to you.

“Nice to meet y’all.” You offered a smile, “I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, we-“ but before Anthony could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Darius nudging his ribs with his elbow. The two of them exchanged rather tense glances before you felt the energy between everyone suddenly shift into some weird, awkward tension.

“Uh- are you coming to the show tonight?” Anthony asked instead, glancing between you and Tyler.

“No, I actually didn’t know there was anything happening tonight. I didn’t know you were all pro wrestlers until he told me.” You point over at Tyler, who is finding it hard to sit there silently.

“Oh, so you don’t know who he is?” Anthony asks, looking a bit taken back. You looked over at Tyler and back up at his friend.

“You’ve never heard of Hook before?” He adds on, but that’s when Tyler looks over his shoulder and pipes up.

“She just said she didn’t know who we were.” He couldn’t help the aggravated tone, simply because he could see what his friends were doing and he didn’t care for it too much.

Darius placed his hand firmly on Anthony’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, which was a silent gesture to tell him to stop talking.

That’s when Tyler looked back at you, and you caught his softened eyes for a split second before he sent you a small nod and lifted himself up out of the water completely.

“Nice meeting you, Y/N.” Anthony beams, offering you a wave, as well as the other two guys who nod toward you as they all group up and head towards the hotel.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You heard Tyler say as he heads back over to where they were previously tossing the ball. He grabs his shirt and tosses it over his shoulder, then slides those shades back over his eyes and waits for the guys to fully disappear inside before he makes his way back over to you.

“Sorry about them.” He mutters as he sits back down next to you, submerging his legs back in the water.

“It’s alright, they seem nice.” You shrug as you start to sway your legs.

“Sometimes.” He smirks as he runs his hand back through his hair, flinging droplets of water across your cheek. “But uh, I don’t know if you’re gonna be here later or not-“

“Yeah, for the next two days.” You didn’t mean to answer that so abruptly, but the margaritas and this man’s unusual charm had to be to blame for that. You felt your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, sliding his tongue over his lips once before he nods.

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you later then.” You shrugged, feeling that unavoidable feeling brewing in your stomach, similar to what people say they feel when they have butterflies, but until then, you’d never experienced that before.

“Yeah, maybe.” He smirks as he pulls his legs out the water and rises back to his feet.

“Have fun beating people’s asses.” You grin before you take the last sip of yet another margarita, and he simply smiles back before he drops his head and makes his way towards the doors, leaving you sitting on the edge of the pool wishing he was still right there next to you.

———

Somewhere in the midst of a few more margaritas and somehow managing to recognize your hotel room, you ended up taking a pretty long nap.

You woke up around one in the morning, quite literally starving to death. You grabbed the laminated menu sitting on the bedside table and scanned your options, until you realized that room service was no longer available after midnight.

Letting out a groan that sounded similar to your stomach growling, you got up from the comfort of the plush bedsheets and slipped on your shoes. Taking a glance in the mirror was a little unnecessary at the moment. You should’ve known you were going to look a hot mess after how hard you crashed.

You took a second to wipe the smudges of mascara below your eyes and comb your fingers through your disheveled hair before you headed out the door, towards the elevator.

Thankfully your intoxication wore off at least eighty percent, so you were no longer wobbly on your feet, but you were still feeling a little buzzed and blamed that on the reason why you it took you a whole minute to figure out which elevator button takes you down to the main lobby.

You managed to get there without stopping on any other floor first, so you felt like that was an accomplishment. Your eyes landed on the doors that led to the cafeteria and you could smell the mixes of different foods the second you stepped out the elevator.

“I wonder why they can’t just bring this up to my room. Why do I have to come all the way down here and get it myself just because it’s late?” You mumbled under your breath, even though you meant to keep that thought in your mind. Another thing to blame on the alcohol.

You approached the buffet bar and immediately gravitated towards the pizza station. Two slices were plated and passed to you by one of the women behind the counter who didn’t appear all that thrilled to be serving food at one in the morning, but you could understand that.

You were just about to take your plate back up to your room, but decided last minute that you wanted to go outside and sit by the pool instead. With nobody being around that late at night, it sounded like a peaceful way to spend the next hour or so.

You kicked back in one of the lounge chairs after you finished eating, staring up at the stars that blanketed the sky, like diamonds dazzling above you. You searched for the brightest one of them all, as you always do, because when you were younger your grandma always told you that star belongs to you.

You found it a little over to the left, glimmering around the illuminated band of the moon and felt yourself smile. Maybe it was just another thing to blame on the alcohol you still had bits of running through your veins, but you couldn’t help but to grin from ear to ear from the simplicity of stargazing.

It was quiet compared to the daytime hustle and bustle of the city and the peaceful atmosphere was nice. You could’ve sat out there for hours on end happily enjoying your own company, but the silence was rather short lived when you heard the rowdiness of the group of guys from earlier right outside the gate.

You looked over and found the four boys stumbling around, laughing and making jokes amongst each other as they walked towards the hotel doors.

Your eyes zeroed in on Tyler specifically, who had a hood over his head but you recognized him by the his wild hair shoved underneath it. You wondered if they ended up going out to a club after all, seeing as how they all seemed to be a little drunk themselves.

You couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh, hoping you wouldn’t be heard, when one of the guys, you think you remember by the name Darius, says something that was apparently so hilarious it causes Tyler’s laugh to echo all around.

You looked back over towards the jacuzzi you’d been thinking about getting into for the last thirty or so minutes once the boys disappeared inside. Eventually, your temptations got the better of you and you found yourself sitting on the edge with your legs submerged in the hot, rolling water.

You stared down at the bubbles forming from the jets and the multicolored lights casting a rainbow glow on the surface, a little entranced by the ever-changing variations, so much so that you didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you.

“Hey” You heard a deep voice softly speak, but it startled you nonetheless. You jumped slightly when you looked over to find Tyler grinning at you, amusement in his hazy eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He chuckles before he grabs a lounge chair and pulls it closer to you. He takes a seat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and subconsciously twisting the ring wrapped around his finger.

“You’re fine.” You managed to chuckle back after the initial shock wore off. “Did you end up going to a club?” You decided to ask, but the answer seemed pretty obvious to you judging by the way he was giving himself away completely.

The hazy, low eyes and a relaxed, easy smirk to match. His cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, he couldn’t keep his hands still. He’d definitely been drinking, but you were finding it funny how you didn’t even know this man and yet it was so obvious to tell the difference between him being sober and intoxicated.

“For a little while. Didn’t really care for it though.” He shrugs as he slides his ring up and down his finger. “What did you do tonight?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, as if he was genuinely interested.

You didn’t know why you were smiling all over again, but you were. It might’ve been the alcohol but you weren’t sure how many things you could truthfully blame on a couple too many margaritas you had hours ago.

“Well, I ended up going to my room and passing out for a couple hours, then I woke up, got some food and came out here to enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace right now?” He half-smirks, exposing one dimple.

You felt your cheeks practically burning and the steam from the jacuzzi wasn’t making it any better. You shook your head and looked down at the ring he was now twirling around.

“I’m okay with it.” You shrugged easily, doing your best to not let it show that you were feeling a little nervous all over again. Just like previously when the two of you were sitting on the edge of the pool, you couldn’t help it. Something about him had the capability to make your stomach erupt with those butterfly feelings everyone always claims, and you weren’t sure if you really liked it or not, but at the moment, you couldn’t fight against it.

The ring he was fidgeting with stilled for a second before he looked down at the ground, clearly trying to hide that wide smile you would’ve rather been shown.

“What about you?” You asked as you leaned back on your palms, attempting to keep the steam from engulfing your already heated skin. He looked up then, his eyes a little droopy but you couldn’t help but to find it cute. “How’d the show go?”

He started sliding that ring on and off different fingers as he spoke. “Pretty good. I mean, my back is killing me but other than that, I think it went pretty good.” He chuckles.

“So you’re the one that got your ass beat?” you teased, watching as his lips spread in a wider smile that he quickly brought his fist up to cover.

“I mean, maybe a little, yeah.” He nods, his laugh once again echoing around you, and something about it just must have been contagious, because your couldn’t help but to laugh with him.

“Well, i’m sure you’ll get ‘em next time.” You say as you look back down at the changing lights glowing against the stones of the jacuzzi. It grew silent between the two of you for a couple seconds, but only until the liquid courage he was enduring kept him feeling bold enough to talk a little more.

“So why are you here?” He asks, remembering you telling him you would only be staying at the hotel for two days. You look over at him, and he feels the need to clarify the question that he feels may have came out wrong. “I mean like- you said you were only here for two days, so are you on vacation or-?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to get out of town, really. I was getting tired of the same old stuff. I had a few days off so I thought it would be fun to just go somewhere else and pretend like I live a luxurious life.” You joked, and felt your cheeks burning once more when you made him laugh again.

“I mean, this is a pretty luxurious hotel.” He shrugs as he leans up and stretches his arms out. “My room came stocked with all the alcohol you can drink.”

“Mine too, but the frozen margaritas are my kryptonite.” You say, wishing you had one you could be sipping on just to calm to rushing nerves coursing heavily through you.

“I noticed.” He smirks, holding your stare for a few seconds longer before you were the one to have to break it first.

Just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he took a minute to retrieve it before he answered. You could hear the deep voice of one of the guys you met earlier but you couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. Uh, nah i’m just gonna chill out here for a while I think. Alright bro, bye.”

He slid the phone back in his pocket and you were trying a little too hard to hide the velvet tinge across your cheeks at the fact that he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Anthony.” He mutters as he shakes his head. “They’re tryna get me to come up and drink a bottle with them.”

“You don’t want to?” You asked, watching as he shrugged his shoulder and slightly shook his head.

“Nah, not really. Not up there, at least.” He then slips his arm through the strap of his backpack and pulls the bag around to his lap, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle with a grin.

“It’s not a frozen margarita, but if you want some you’re welcome to it.” He twists the cap off the bottle and takes a few sips before he extends it out to you.

You thought about it for a second, but not for very long before you grabbed it and held it out to see it better.

“Peach Crown?” You asked, “Never had it before.”

“It’s good.” he says as pulls his chair a tad bit closer.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You say before you take your first sip, followed by a couple more when you realized how smooth it went down.

You passed the bottle back to him and noticed the expectant look on his face. It was as if he was waiting to say he told you so.

“okay. yeah, It’s pretty good.” You admit. You feel his fingers brush over yours for a fraction of a second as he grabs the bottle from your hand and you were unsure why that slight and simple touch sent shivers cascading down your spine.

“I’m not even a big fan of sweet drinks but I tried this at the club and had to get a bottle.” He says before he takes a couple more sips and passes it back.

You grabbed the bottle again and tasted a hint of mint when you took your next sip, but the whisky washed it away before it got the chance linger against your tongue.

You heard him rummaging around in his bag again, this time pulling out a cream colored box and a lighter with some bold print across the side of it. He pulls a Black n Mild out of the box and places the plastic mouthpiece between his lips before he sparks the lighter and cups his hand around the flame.

His brows furrow as he lights the end of the cigar and inhales his first draw, exhaling a cloud of thick, gray smoke that has a slightly sweet tinge when it lingers around you.

“Wanna hit this?” He asks as you pass him the bottle back, and you had to admit you were a little bit tempted, but you declined for the simple fact that nicotine used to have a vice grip on you in college and the last thing you wanted was to spark an old flame that you probably won’t be able to burn out a second time.

You watched as he took one more rather large gulp and placed the bottle down between the two of you, and took a couple more hits from the cigar, blowing O’s above his head that stretched out the higher they got, until they completely faded away.

“My dad used to always do that.” You admitted all too easily for some weird reason, immediately shutting down the second the words slipped from your lips, because you never talked about that man to anyone.

“Mine still does.” He says as he stares up and watches the rings eventually fade into the darkness. Then he caught what you said fully and looked down at you.

“Oh, wait” he says as he attempts to read the look on your face. “What happened? He stopped smoking or something?”

You shook your head but shrugged your shoulder afterwards. “No, i’m pretty sure he still does. I just don’t see him anymore. But I remember when I was younger we’d sit out on the porch and he’d always blow those smoke rings.” You managed to chuckle even though speaking about the man in general made you want to completely close down.

Tyler stared at you for a few seconds, tapping his finger against the end of the cigar to ash it as he processed what you just said, and quite frankly, he was unsure what to say back.

You were quick to push the entire topic to the back burner as you grabbed the bottle sitting an arm length away and brought it back to your lips, this time tasting the pungent tobacco mixed with the sweet liquor. You set the bottle back down, pushing it a little closer his way and glanced up at him when you heard him speak again.

“How come you don’t see him anymore?” he asked, his voice a little softer spoken than it previously was.

You look down at the bottle, feeling like you’d need a couple more sips before you can even think about having a conversation pertaining to that, but you resist the urge to grab it again.

“A lot of reasons.” You shrug your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the amber liquid. “Mainly him just not wanting anything to do with any of the kids he has.” You chuckle coldly, shaking your head. “But it’s fine, cause in all reality, it’s for the best. All he’s ever done is hurt me so i’ve pretty much accepted the fact that I just don’t need to allow him in my life.”

You felt the weird feeling of a heavy weight being lifted off of you, as if there was a constant pressure weighing down on you but you never noticed it until it miraculously vanished.

Tyler let your words resonate with him for a minute, and even though he was pretty drunk, he still managed to comprehend everything you said. He couldn’t deny that it sounded sad to him, and he could see that talking about it visibly brought a deep pain to the surface for you, and he didn’t want to bring you down by making you tell him about something that clearly hurt you.

Truthfully, he was just curious about you. He didn’t know why, but right from the start earlier that day when he had that first initial run in with you, something about you instantly intrigued him, and it was beyond the range of just your physical appearance, even though he couldn’t deny that he was immediately attracted to you the second he got a good look at you for the first time.

Still, there was something else about you that he felt compelled to dive deeper into. He thought about you a couple different times after he left the pool. Once before his match as he was getting his wrists taped up. Once after his match when he was scanning the sea of faces in the crowd. Twice at the club when he remembered you getting interrupted in the middle of telling him where some good places to go were. And once more when he and the guys made it back to the hotel and he couldn’t help but wonder if, by some unlikely chance, you’d be sitting where he left you hours prior.

“I’m sorry that things have to be that way, but I understand it. I’ve had to cut off people I care about for my own wellbeing too. It sucks to have to do that, but sometimes it’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”

You found yourself a little taken back that he wasn’t saying the things it seemed like everyone else ever did. How you should let the past go and give your dad another chance. Your father is always your father no matter what. Don’t hold a grudge forever, etc.

You simply nodded because you weren’t sure what else you could really say, but you could see that there was a mutual understanding and it made you a lot less regretful about opening up to someone you barely knew.

“What about your mom?” He asks, and really it was more of him blurting that out, but he couldn’t help it because genuinely, he was just curious about what made you, you.

“I love my mom.” You found yourself smiling without realizing it, and the way your eyes lit up brought a slight smile to his face, too.

“She’s honestly the strongest woman i’ve ever known. She went through a lot with my dad. Raised three kids all on her own and always made a way no matter how impossible it seemed. I admire her, honestly.”

You looked back up at the stars, finding yourself wondering what your mom might be up to, and making a mental note to call her in the morning.

“What about your parents?” You asked him after a moment. “What are they like?”

You looked back over at him, catching his soft gaze before he adverts his eyes to the rolling water you just pulled your legs out of.

“They’re my role models, honestly.” He grins as he keeps his sights set on the changing lights. “My mom is just, all around an amazing woman. My dad is probably the best friend i’ve ever had. Im really thankful to have the parents I got.”

He feels the slightest sting when he says that, knowing that you evidently didn’t have what he has, but when he looks back at you, all he sees is a soft smile gracing your lips.

“That’s amazing.” You softly spoke, and he simply nods back before he takes another draw from the black n mild.

“Do you have any siblings?” You decided to ask, thinking about your brother and sister that happened to come to mind.

“Nah, it’s just me, actually. I’ve always wanted some though. Always wanted a little brother cause I just thought it would be cool, but my parents never had another one.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

“I have a little sister, a little brother, and apparently a couple more siblings i’ve never met.” You chuckle as you shake your head. “But my brother and my sister are the ones I grew up with. I was always the oldest so, I don’t know, I guess that’s why I have such a strong bond with them. My dad has more kids with other women, but like I said, i’ve never met them. I’d like to, but I probably never will.”

Tyler nodded along as he listened, his eyes trained on the concrete underneath his feet.

“Wow” you shake your head, “That drink must have some truth serum in it or something. I never really talk about stuff like this.” You managed to laugh it off, but you were a little surprised at yourself for opening up to this man so effortlessly when it usually took you a minimum of a few years to tell anyone anything deeply personal about you.

“I don’t either.” You heard him say.

He then reached down and grabbed the bottle, holding it as he stood up and took a couple steps towards you. he sat down next to you, stretching out one of his legs and bending the other at the knee as he leaned back on one hand, and sipped the bottle with the other one.

His shoulder brushed yours and you couldn’t help but to feel those nerves wracking around inside all over again, but you tried to mask that with another gulp of that liquid poison when he handed it over to you.

By this point the two of you had finished half of that bottle and needless to say, you were feeling the effects more than you might’ve realized at first.

You looked over at him as you passed the bottle back, taking notice of his defined jaw that looked like it could slice through anything that comes in contact with it.

He was about to take another sip before he caught you staring, turning to face you with even droopier eyes and that same, relaxed half-smirk.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He caught you off guard when he asked you that, and truthfully you didn’t have very many thoughts running through your mind for once. You were too distracted by his features to really process anything else, but of course you weren’t about to tell him that.

He placed the cigar between his lips and squinted one eye when the smoke sifted near it, inhaling another smoke filled draw into his lungs before he turned his head away to exhale it all. Then he looked back at you, waiting for your answer with a slight gleam in his low eyes.

“I’m not really thinking about anything, surprisingly.” You tell him, catching the exact moment that his eyes linger to your lips and he involuntarily slides his tongue over his own. You felt a trillion little fires blazing beneath your cheeks, a bit of an excited feeling spouting through you, mixed with sudden and complete nervousness all at the same time.

This time, you couldn’t blame it on the liquor. You may be drunkenly consumed by the remnants of the margarita and the fresh course of the peach crown, but everything you were feeling so intensely had nothing to do with any of that. It was all him, and the way your heart skipped two beats when he looked into your eyes again, only solidified that.

“What are you thinking right now?” You asked him, voice a bit shaky but you hoped he didn’t notice.

He tilted his head to the side slightly before you heard the bottle being placed down next to him. His eyes flashed to your lips once again before they roamed back up to match your suddenly wanting gaze, and that’s when he turned his head and put the cigar out against the concrete, before he turned back to face you.

“I’d rather show you.” His voice was suddenly raspier and it could’ve been the harsh tobacco and the liquor, but something made you think it was a little more than just that.

You felt your heart on the verge of imploding in your chest, thumping rapidly against your rib cage, so much so that you could only hear the pulsations pounding in your ears.

But the second he leaned a little closer, and you met him halfway, your lips collided all too easily and suddenly, all of the rapid beatings from your racing pulse were instantly washed away.

You melted beneath his touch the second his lips landed on yours. His hand, calloused and edged, was somehow so gentle against your cheek as his thumb slowly stroked over your skin. The taste of the liquor you’d both been drinking, mixed with the tart tobacco and still just the faintest hint of mint, embedded in your tongue when your lips parted and allowed him in.

The slightest moan you didn’t realize you let out made him smile against you, and the second you felt his lips slipping away, you chased his kiss like you needed it to survive.

It was a game of push and pull, but the two of you couldn’t seem to let your lips detach for even a fraction of a second. It was all consuming, leaving you feeling lightheaded but you couldn’t bare to put a stop to it, until the both of you were completely out of breath and had no other choice but to break away for air.

You left his lips puffy and tinged red and he left yours kiss-bitten and only yearning for more. His thumb rubbed over your bottom lip once before his fingers tangled up in your hair and he pulled you right back in.

So lost in the heat of the moment, spinning out of control in one of the best ways possible, you ended up getting pulled on top of him, straddling his waist with your arms locked around the back of his neck.

He leaned back slightly, his palms roaming up your sides, around your back and down to your hips. You felt his fingertips sliding beneath the end of your shirt, and everywhere he touched simply struck a blaze beneath your skin.

He pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours as he fluttered his eyes open and waited for you to do the same. You caught his gaze and the undeniable gleam dancing in his dark eyes, something that made you want to immediately pursue anything he might’ve had his mind set on.

“Tell me something nobody knows about you.” He mutters breathily, sliding his hands fully beneath your shirt to caress your sides.

You eyed him for a moment, biting down on your bottom lip without realizing it, maybe just trying to feel the friction he took away.

“Something nobody knows?” You asked, subconsciously twirling the ends of his hair between your fingers as you put some thought into it. He kept roaming his hands up and down your sides, your smoothed skin was a beautiful comparison to his tougher palms and one jagged fingernail that scraped against you.

“I’m scared of snakes.” You shrugged, but he only smirked and shook his head at you.

“Everyone is. Something deeper than that.”

You pulled back a tad bit, your eyes lingering down to his puffed lips that you were dying to get another taste of.

“I-“ you hesitated, and he could see it immediately.

“Tell me.” He gently urged, rubbing his thumbs back and to against your hips. You looked into his eyes, that intense, strong gaze unwavering when you caught it again.

Suddenly, for some strange reason, it was all too easy to admit something you’d never told anyone, and never planned to in your entire life.

“I have a scar on my thigh from my ex boyfriend pushing me down some stairs when I was in high school, and it’s pretty noticeable, but i’ve never told anyone where it came from because- I don’t know, honestly. I just, i’ve never told anyone what happened. I just said I fell.”

Once again, there was that strange feeling of an immense weight feeling like it had been lifted right off of your chest, and maybe all you needed to do was open up to people a little more instead of keeping a brick wall built around your heart, but up until Tyler, that was never possible for you.

His jaw throbbed twice before his eyes adverted down for a second, then back up. You could easily see the shift. The blackest of hues casted over them.

“Can I see it.” He whispered, and suddenly you felt like closing yourself off once again. He could tell that you were apprehensive, which was why he added, “Please?” as he rubbed small circles against your skin.

You took a moment before you leaned back a little, pulling your shorts up just a tad to expose the embedded scar you always carefully hid, traced high up against your skin.

He looked down, taking in the look of the faded yet deep indentation, clenching his teeth hard behind his lips.

“Needed nineteen stitches.” You mutter as you slide your finger over the jagged line. It still makes you cringe just to touch.

Tyler slides his hand out from underneath your shirt and brings it down to your thigh, his fingertip delicately tracing over that wound once before he looks back up into your eyes again, this time with a sharper stare that could slice right through you.

“He should’ve got his ass beat for that” His gravely voice suddenly feels like it has the power to physically shake you.

“He didn’t, but I did leave him.” You say back, watching as he nods and slides his hand back underneath your shirt, roaming it up to the middle of your back before he pulls you closer.

“Good.” He mutters before he leans in and locks his lips with yours, once again making you melt into him for the second time, and hopefully not the last.

You felt his fingertips graze underneath the thin strap of your bathing suit you’d yet to change out of, the moment suddenly escalating into something so breathtakingly intense.

His tongue explored every square inch of your mouth, leaving the taste of him lingering. That mix of heavy tobacco, peach and mint you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

But just then, his phone rang in his pocket, and he stilled as soon as he heard it, debating whether he should let it go or at least see who it was calling.

His hand slipped away from your skin and you missed it there immensely, almost immediately. He dug around in his pocket and pulled the phone out, chasing your lips one last time before he completely detached to look down at who’s name might’ve been floating on his screen.

He sighed before he answered, holding the phone up to his ear, and this time, you were close enough to hear the conversation.

“Yeah?” He bit out with an annoyed tone, which only made a bashful grin play on your face. You leaned back a little and looked at him, taking the moment to really study his features, even if your vision was a little blurred and the lighting around the pool area was barely illuminating anything.

Your fingers absentmindedly twirled some loose ends of his hair as you watched his lips move when he spoke.

“Nah, I’m not. I’m out by the pool right now-“

Just then you heard the voice on the other end of the line say your name and something incomprehensible after that. Tyler rolled his eyes, his shoulders stiffening a little bit as he leaned back a bit and discreetly turned the volume down.

“Stop.” He cut in, his voice suddenly demanding. You felt his fingers grazing your skin with his freehand, and he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“I don’t know yet. Later.” He shrugs one shoulder as he speaks back into the phone, growing increasingly impatient by the passing second.

You could hear a couple laughs by various voices rumbling through the speaker, but that’s when Tyler hung up the phone and silenced it before he laid it down next to him.

You tilted your head to the side, your curiosity undoubtedly piqued and proceeded to ask him, “What was that about?”

He shook his head and placed his hand on your thigh firmly as he leaned up some. “Just my friends being aggravating, it’s nothin.” He says as he roams that hand a little higher.

You only nodded, your eyes glancing back down to those swollen lips you just couldn’t seem to get enough of. You leaned back into him and he met your kiss halfway once again, but it was short-lived when he pulled back, out of nowhere, his eyes filled with something you deemed unfamiliar and rather unreadable.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak for a moment, trying to find the right words. Truthfully, he was nervous to ask, because he didn’t know if he was about to ruin the moment or exemplify the passions of it, and the last thing he wanted to do was give you the wrong impression of him.

He inhaled a slow breath before he finally let the words out, feeling his hands start to get clammy against your skin.

“I know we just met, and this is all kind of going fast, but I’m okay with it… if you are?”

You felt the air get caught in your lungs, blinking twice as you realized what might be about to happen next.

His nervous antics caused his fingers to fidget a little and you felt that against your back. He desperately awaited your response as he stared solely into your eyes, showing nothing but pure urgency for you, and anxiousness mixed in with it.

You felt your heart beginning to hammer in your chest again, bringing back those violent pulsations to pound in your ears and at this point you were fairly certain he’d be able to hear it himself.

All you could do was attempt to calm yourself but there was hardly any use to that, and instead of giving him a straight forward answer like he was waiting for, all you did was pull yourself off of him, and he watched you intently as you stood up and slipped your shirt over your head, and your shorts down to your ankles before you stepped out of them.

He’d already seen you in that bathing suit but it was different this time. His eyes roamed down to admire every curve and crevice your body had to offer, shamelessly stopping to take in specific parts of you that he could pinpoint as his favorites immediately.

You kept your eyes on him as you took a step back and stepped down into the shallow, heated water, that you already knew wasn’t going to help your case when your skin already felt like it was set ablaze, and all due to his simplest touches.

He never took his eyes off of you as he followed your lead, standing up and pulling that hoodie, along with an undershirt over his head, exposing those sharp abs and a series of tattoos you wanted to know the meaning behind.

You lowered yourself until the water rested at your shoulders and waited for him to join you. He pulled his joggers down, already had swimming trunks on and you couldn’t help but to smirk when you noticed that.

“Did you have this all planned out?” You asked as you motion over the trunks that sat dangerously low around his hips.

“I planned to come out here.” He says as he takes a step down into the water. “Didn’t think i’d be lucky enough to see you again, though.” He says as he lowers himself down. The water stopped halfway up his chest, his skin fusing red from the heat, but neither of you minded it.

He reached back and picked up that bottle that was long forgotten by you, taking a few sips before he handed it over.

“Might as well finish what we started.” He shrugs, referring to the rest of the liquor filling only a quarter of that glass bottle.

You grabbed it from him and took two sips, and he found it a little fascinating how you never winced when the poison hit your throat.

When you passed it back to him, he placed it back down on the edge of the jacuzzi and brought his arm up to rest lazily behind you.

The liquor was the only reason why you weren’t a complete mess. Somehow you managed to steady your thundering heart and the knots in your stomach were only barely noticeable by that point, and all you felt were tingles skating through your whole body. Like an unspoken plea for his touch that your skin craved, but your lips didn’t speak.

You turned your head to look at him, and he was already staring back at you with a crooked smirk and that knee-weakening dimple embedded in his cheek. He had a bit of a deeper, rosier tinge casted over his skin, mixed with that glint in his eye that you couldn’t miss even if you tried to.

“I enjoy talking to you.” He says as his fingers play with the ends of your hair that falls over your shoulder. “You’re very enjoyable to talk to.” He adds, earning a chuckle to slip past your lips and his. It was obvious that the alcohol had sunk in judging by the goofy grin he had and the way his words were a bit slurred, but it was the same for you.

“You think you’d say that if you were sober right now?” You quirked a brow at him.

“I know I would.” He says with a reassuring nod. “Just cause i’m drinking doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about right now. I mean everything i’m saying to you. I don’t usually, like, open up to people I just met, believe it or not. But it’s… it’s just easy to do with you.”

You felt your lips sliding up into another smile, probably for the hundredth time that night.

“I feel the same way with you. I mean, I told you something i’ve never told anybody else before. So, if that doesn’t say something, I don’t really know what will.”

“Says a whole lot.” He smirks, his eyes involuntarily flickering down to your lips all over again, and you knew in that moment that you were done talking when you subconsciously leaned in towards each other.

His kiss might end up being your biggest weakness from that point on. You just knew that when you inevitably part ways, you were going to be craving the feeling he so effortlessly gave you.

He was trying not to worry about the fact that the time was so limited. All he wanted to was to savor every last second he gets to have with you. Everything else just simply wasn’t on his mind anymore.

You found yourself back on top of him, this time with very little clothing in between. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingertips trailing through the patches of hair that made a path from the middle of his chest, down his torso until it disappeared beneath his trunks.

A low groan reverberated through his throat when you slightly ground down against him, feeling the hard bulge beneath the thin fabric that he was ready to rip right off.

You felt his hand snake around from your lower back to your hip, before his fingers dipped underneath the band of your bathing suit bottoms, eliciting a gasp the second you felt the pad of his middle finger graze over your throbbing clit.

He leaned in more to lock his lips with yours again as he swirled that finger fluidly, reveling in the mix of breathy sighs and sweet, low moans that slipped past your lips and got trapped somewhere within him.

His tongue slid around yours, and that particular flavor made itself at home when it sunk into your tastebuds.

The circular motions of just that single finger had your entire body buzzing. Your nails dug down into his shoulders and you felt the thick band of muscle flex when he felt the sting, but he didn’t stop you, nor did he want to.

“You wanna go up to my room?” He mutters against your lips as he quickens the pace. You had to take a minute to collect yourself just enough to be able to respond to him, and that only happened when he slowed down those circular motions to give you a chance to speak properly.

You shook your head, and he pulled back to look at you with a bit of a confused look crossing his face.

“Don’t wanna go anywhere. I wanna do this right here.” You breathed out, and it was evident that he was a little taken back by that.

He eyed you for a second before he glanced over both of his shoulders. There was nobody around, most of the room lights were turned off that he could see by the windows, and granted the two of you had been out there for quite a while without anybody else intruding.

“That’s a little risky.” He says, but he smirks right after, and you could see the gleam sparking in his eyes when the thrill of possibly getting caught red handed took over him, too.

“I’m willing to take a risk tonight if you are.” You whisper back, sliding your tongue over your lips before you lean back into him, catching his kiss before he has a chance to speak.

His answer was given to you when you felt him pull the string of your bikini that was tied against your hip. The fabric melted off the right side of you before he reached down and pulled the other one, leaving you completely bare underneath the boiling water.

He kept his lips locked with yours, his tongue never getting tired of exploring each and every inch within your mouth as he lifted up just a little to pull his trunks down enough.

When there was no clothing keeping the two of you separated under the water, you felt a rush of nerves jolting through you. It suddenly became more than a heavy make out when your bodies collided.

You pulled back from his lips, inhaling the much needed oxygen that suddenly felt a little bit suffocating, and he kept his eyes trained intently on you as he stilled every single movement.

“We can slow down.” He whispers breathily, but you shake your head almost too abruptly.

“No, it’s not that. it’s just, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me either. I don’t, honestly, I don’t ever do this. I just want you to know that.”

“I already knew that.” He softly whispers back. “I could tell. And, you might not believe this, but I don’t ever do these types of things either.”

You didn’t believe him as much as he probably believed you, but you didn’t want to waste what little time you had questioning whether or not he was being completely honest with you.

“You didn’t give me a bad impression of you. Not at all. Why do you think I came back out here tonight?”

“Cause you wanted to sit by the pool, I thought?”

“The only reason I wanted to do that was because I was hoping i’d see you out here again.” He admits, making your heart skip at least three beats.

“I’m glad you did.” You beam before the temptations get the best of you all over again. You lean back into him, latching your lips with his for what felt like the millionth time, but you weren’t even close to getting tired of it.

That kiss certainly, and suddenly escalated into something so much more when he reached down and grabbed himself, positioning so that he could easily push up into you.

But before he did that, he made it a point to pull back one last time, catching your eyes when they fluttered open.

“Are you positive you wanna do this?” He asks, his voice has a whole new edge to it, exemplifying how serious he was about the simple question.

You nodded easily before you said, “positive”, and that’s when his eyes scanned yours, searching for the faintest hint of dishonesty, but he found none at all.

He nodded once before you felt his tip at your entrance, and you braced yourself for what was to come next.

He kept his dark eyes focused on you as he slowly angled his hips upwards, pushing himself in just a little at a time.

Your brows knitted together the moment you felt him stretching you out, and he could tell by the way your walls were clamping down around him, that it had probably been a while since you’ve done this with anybody else.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He mutters, trying and failing to keep his voice steady and strong, because the immaculate feeling you were giving him was already sending him off to a euphoric planet.

You grasped his strong shoulders and lowered yourself down, pushing him in even more. The searing, stinging pain quickly faded away once you completely accepted every inch of him. He was certainly bigger than anyone else had been before him, and somehow he could already tell that, and he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said that didn’t stroke his ego a little bit.

He held his hips still until he felt you relax. He let you take the lead, simply because he didn’t want to be too overwhelming.

Once you starting rocking your hips, his eyes immediately rolled back. The way your tight walls clutched him could’ve very well became a new addiction that he wouldn’t know how to overcome anytime soon.

You bit down on your lower lip to attempt to keep your moans at a minimum as you swayed back and to, causing waves in the rolling water that splashed up to the surface over and over again.

He felt beads of sweat sliding down his temple, tasted some saltiness on his lips, too. He didn’t realize how worked up he really was until he was fighting with all his might not to grab your hips and mercilessly fuck into you.

He watched as you took all of him better than it seemed like you were going to at first. You somehow knew exactly what to do to feel him as deep as he could possibly go, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, and he found himself completely adoring the fact that you were using his body to your advantage.

Your head tipped back the moment he thrusted his hips up, hitting a spot that you never knew you had, that made an immediate wave of warm tingles course through your veins.

He wrapped both arms around your lower back and pulled you flush against him, finding your lips and captivating them with his own.

He slowly angled his hips back and to, loving the sounds that slipped through your lips with each gentle thrust.

Your nails left half-moon indentations in his shoulders, and they’d probably end up being there for a couple days after.

You were beginning to feel your head spin out of control again, but all you did was embrace that wildly unstoppable feeling with everything you had, and all he did was enhance it each time you felt his tongue glide across your lips, and his breathy groans get lost within your mouth.

The passions were running deeper than either of you could’ve ever braced yourselves for. Your bodies were intuitively connected, moving in perfect rhythm, complete harmony.

You’d never felt more in tune with anyone else before in your life, and he’d never felt more encapsulated by anybody he’d ever been with before.

He started thrusting faster when he picked up on the signs you gave him. You could hardly keep your composure when you felt him repeatedly pounding into you, knocking against your sweet spot perfectly.

Your knees started to ache as they bared down into the step of the jacuzzi, your thighs burning from how far they were spread apart, but neither of those feelings mattered enough in that moment.

All you were focused on was what Tyler was doing to you. The riveting sensations that overpowered your buzzing body. The way his low, deep groans made you clench down around him. His arms wrapped tightly around your back as he rocked up into you.

You had to press your lips against his shoulder to muffle the unfaltering moans, and he held you tighter before he picked up the pace once more.

His lips placed a few loose kisses to your neck as he pushed himself in and out of you with a force that made waves arise in all different directions.

The sounds of the water splashing against the tile, breathy sighs, groans and muffled moans were all that the two of you could hear.

He felt you pulsate around him again, a couple high moans escaping from his shoulder and you couldn’t help it. Your eyes screwed shut as you clinged to him, drawing small traces of blood where your nails dug down, but he wouldn’t have minded it either way.

He heard his name slip past your lips before you even realized you said it, and he couldn’t help the feelings that gave him.

A mix of incomprehensible cries of pure pleasure lingered around you both and he wasn’t worried about the sounds any longer when he knew you were so close to that earth-shattering orgasm he was aiming to give you.

He kept his thrusts strong and steady even when he felt like his knees were becoming too weak. His brows furrowed in complete concentration as he kept trying to hold back until he felt you release around him.

He leaned back and turned his head to the side, waiting for you to look back at him, and when you did, you could see the dazed and blissed out look in his low, faded eyes.

His puffed lips were parted, some slick ends of his hair cling to the sides of his face, brows furrowed intently and he looked like the epitome perfection in your eyes for everything you ever knew it to be.

You couldn’t help but to catch his lips once more, completely allowing any and all the sounds that he pulled from you to get lost within him.

His arms tightened around you again, your chest flush with his and tongues at war for the umpteenth time that night, until he felt your body shudder and your mouth fall open, breaking that heated kiss the second you felt that high crash into you with a force that nearly made you tremble.

He leaned back to watch you, finding you somehow even more beautiful than he already thought you were. Your head tipped back as you welcomed that all consuming rush that found home in your veins and spread rapidly through every last inch of you.

His name once again flew past your lips and that’s when his hips stuttered, and one drawn out, low groan escaped his lips as his head tipped back and his and your releases mixed within you.

Your eyes rolled the moment you felt him fill you, the warmth engulfing you as it took over.

You peered your eyes open and saw the hazy blur of the stars above, though a couple of them probably weren’t actually there in the first place.

He picked his head back up and watched as you came down from that high he was quite proud about giving you. Both of your chests were heaving deeply, heavy breaths emitting past your lips and his, and the moment you locked eyes again, there was a brief pause in the quick rhythm of your racing heart.

His pupils were dilated, matching the moon above as he looked back at you, lips practically bruised by this point and cheeks far deeper than just a rosy hue.

He slid his tongue between his lips before he slowly pulled himself out of you, and you had to admit that you missed the feeling of him stretching you out immediately.

“I, uh-“ he stammers as he pulls his trunks back up, and you take that as your sign to reach behind him and grab the other half of your two-piece and assemble it back in place.

“I came in you.” He says as he eyes you worriedly. “I shouldn’t have, I mean, I should’ve pulled out. Right?”

What you didn’t know, was that it was the first time he’d done that before. Usually he wore a condom and then he didn’t have to pull out of whoever he happened to be with, but most times he would just let them swallow it. He never even thought about fucking someone else completely raw with the intentions to do what he just did.

“I’m on birth control.” You tell him as you tie the strings against your hips. “But yeah, I mean, what if I wasn’t, right?”

“But you are?” He asks to be sure, and you nod back. You could visibly see the relief that washes over his face, but he’s still perplexed over the fact that he didn’t even try to pull out of you. He didn’t know what came over him, or how he had gotten so caught up in the moment that he completely disregarded the rules he always strictly follows.

“Alright.” He says as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs over your skin gently.

“Come here.” He mumbles before he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you into him, holding you tight against his chest as he takes a moment to endure everything that his heart was feeling and his mind was thinking.

You laid your cheek against his shoulder and held him back, feeling his steady heartbeat thump against your chest.

Even though the two of you had just done so much more, that simple embrace felt like it was on the higher scales of intimacy. You didn’t know what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t to be wrapped up in his arms.

You felt your heart fluttering, and a doomed feeling eased it’s way in. You knew right then and there that you were going to be thinking about this man for far too long after you both inevitably say your goodbyes, and it was going to hurt worse than hell.

Thats when those thoughts started seeping in for you, and unknowingly to you, for him too. He was wondering what he should try to do to stay in touch with you, or if that was even something you wanted from him. He was thinking about how he probably just fucked himself thoroughly, because he had completely gave into his temptations that all revolved around you.

He doesn’t regret a moment, but he’s already dreading what it’s about to be like when you both leave.

He didn’t know how to go about anything else. He didn’t come there expecting to meet someone he had an instantaneous connection with like nobody he’d ever met before. He couldn’t help that he just wanted to hold onto you for as long as he could in the short time he and you both had left at that hotel.

But all those worrisome thoughts suddenly vanished when you pulled yourself up and looked into his eyes. All he was focused on then, was you. And undoubtedly it would probably be that way from there on out.

“Tyler” you whispered his name in a different way. A way that made his stomach immediately drop. A way that sounded like regret to him.

“Yeah?” He swallowed thickly, doing his best not to let his rampant emotions get the better of him.

You shy away from his intense gaze and he wished you wouldn’t have done that. He dips his head to catch your eyes again and hopes you’ll hold it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice suddenly softer, a little shakier, even.

You were afraid to say what you were thinking, as was he. You knew things were happening so fast that it was almost impossible to process it all, but the only thing you knew for certain was that there was no solid ending in sight for what that night had mounted into.

“I just-“ You began, but you found it so hard to muster the words when he was staring at you with so much intensity, so much underlying emotion that he didn’t know how to hide.

“I don’t know what you expect out of this, or if you even expect anything at all… but I don’t know how well I can take it if we leave here and I just never hear from you again.” You admitted, only due to the liquid courage and little bouts of confidence from your previous moments shared together.

His lips parted but he didn’t speak. He realized then that everything he was feeling, was everything you were feeling, and it took him by surprise to say the very least.

“I’ve never been a one night stand type of girl.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulder. “And I don’t ever want to be that. I’m not asking for a relationship with you, or any kind of commitment, but just- I don’t know if I could handle it if you just ghosted me after all of this.”

He held onto every last word you said. He wasn’t completely sure what to say back, because he could tell that you were far better than he could ever dream of being when it comes to expressing your thoughts and your emotions, but he relied more on actions than anything else.

He slipped his ring off of his finger from behind your back and held it out for you. You glanced down at it, brows knitting in confusion before you looked back into his eyes.

“Can you hold onto this for me?” He asks, holding that silver ring between two fingers. “I’ll keep coming back for it, as long as you have it.”

You felt your lips slip up into and effortless smile that brought one to his face too. You took the ring and slid it down two different fingers, but it was too big for either of them, so you reached up and unclasped the necklace you always wore, one that your mom gifted to you years and years ago, and slid the chain through the ring before you clasped it back around your neck.

Tyler stared at it as it sat perfectly against your chest. It was almost like you accepting that ring was the solid reassurance he needed.

“I can’t promise you much. The life I live right now doesn’t really allow time for me to have relationships or, anything at all, really. But I promise that as long as you’re wearing my ring around your neck like that, I’ll keep coming back.”

You nodded, holding out your pinky finger to really seal the deal. He glanced down and let a boyish grin slip across his lips before he wrapped his own pinky around yours and shook it.

“Cross my heart.” he says, staring deep into your eyes to insure that you hear and believe him.

“And as long as you keep coming back, i’ll be wearing this ring around my neck. Cross mine.” You tell him before your pinkies unlock and your lips do instead.

———-

#hook aew #hook aew fic #hook aew angst #hook aew fluff #hook aew imagines #aew hook #tyler senerchia #hook x reader #hook imagine #hook nation rise

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wigglywormy · 5 months

Text

blurred lines, sharp twine [bakugou/deku, 5.6k, nsfw]

okay. so I haven't written a fic in over 5 years!! can y'all believe that? i used to be so active on this blog, pumping out fics day and night, but life got busy and before I knew it over 5 years have passed omg.

of course my first fic back would be something like this lol. this was written for @wreckingtickles who shares my undying love for bakugou getting absolutely destroyed. they prompted me with a fic featuring bakugou's stirrup leggings and that kinda spiraled into this huge monster of a fic.

please enjoy 8) (also i made an ao3 to cross-post my tickle fics on!)

warnings: nsfw, feet, intense tickling, bondage, veryyyy slight dub-con, minors DNI.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but he definitely doesn’t really try to hide the fact that he’s a little on the strange side. He knows he’s a gigantic nerd (he’s thoroughly reminded of that fact by Bakugou everyday), he knows he’s a little awkward, and he knows he’s maybe even a little bit of a freak. But, through the years of trauma, war, violence, and near-death, he’s come to accept that life is much too short to deny who you are.

Moving in with Bakugou after graduation was something Izuku didn’t even have to think about. Bakugou set up a few apartment viewings, and it went completely unsaid that the smartest decision for both of them would be to stick together. Roommates equaled cheaper rent, and since they both were working under the same agency it was easy to align their schedules. Normally they patrol together (the Wonder Due didn’t get its name for nothing), but occasionally - especially lately - Bakugou has been picking up more shifts than usual.

Izuku can’t help but notice how tired Bakugou has been lately, especially tonight, coming home from his 9th day in a row of patrol. The door closes softly behind him - he must think Izuku’s asleep already as it’s around two in the morning, and Izuku turns slightly from his position curled up on the couch to watch Bakugou toe his boots off. He’s already changed out of his hero uniform, clad in only his leggings and a soft, worn looking hoodie that Izuku’s pretty sure belongs to him.

Bakugou leans his head against the wall in the foyer for a brief moment, sighing deeply, and Izuku’s heart aches at the noise.

“Late night?” Izuku asks, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table.

Bakugou jumps. “Jesus - shit, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs, a slight smile on his face.

“The fuck are you still doing up?” Bakugou grumbles, finally making his way over to sprawl on the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a grunt.

Izuku shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Which, technically isn’t a lie, but. Still. Even when he lays in his bed at night during one of Bakugou’s shifts that he’s not partnered on, he finds himself teetering between sleep and wakefulness as he listens carefully for the front door to open and shut, signaling Bakugou has gotten home safe for the night. Codependency wasn’t something Izuku was planning on adopting after the war, but his heart just can’t seem to relax if he doesn’t know that Bakugou is home and safe. Breathing. Alive.

Normally it’s fine, but since Bakugou has been working himself to death the past few weeks, Izuku’s own sleep schedule has taken a toll.

Bakugou doesn’t look bloodied or bruised now, though, which is a good sign.

“I thought your shift ended at midnight?” Izuku asks, his eyes unconsciously skimming over Bakugou’s exhausted body as he slumps further down into the cushions. He folds his arms over his chest, burrowing into the oversized borrowed hoodie, and Izuku smiles because Bakugou is so loud and brash, but right now, here and safe at home, he allows himself to be soft with Izuku.

“It was supposed to,” Bakugou grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “One of the interns got caught up in a stupid bank robbery and ended up with a fuckin’ concussion, so I stayed late to help finish up some of his paperwork.”

“That’s sweet of you, Kacchan,” Izuku teases, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to rest in Izuku’s lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou says, voice tense with exhaustion, “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”

Izuku let’s his hands fall onto Bakugou’s ankles, rubbing gently with his thumbs, and he swallows heavily as his eyes trail down Bakugou’s body, the black leggings hugging his muscles tightly, all the way down to the thin straps holding the stirrups along the arches of his feet.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but shit, that’s another thing about moving in with Bakugou after graduation. Getting to see all of these new and exciting sides of him; tense and angry and bloody after a fight, soft and exhausted after a long boring shift, sleepy and comfortable on his day off.

But the damn stirrup leggings have Izuku trying desperately hard not to act up.

“Do you - uh, want a foot rub or something?” Izuku blurts out, his thumb pressing into the bone of Bakugou’s ankle.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and Izuku offers a small nervous smile, trying not to seem as if he’s too interested. He just wants to help his friend relax, okay? Nothing weird about that. It’s not like they haven’t massaged each other before after a long day of hero work. Bakugou’s great with his hands, and Izuku’s arms and shoulders get knotted up so tightly after hours of using his quirk.

Bakugou still has smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes since he hasn’t washed his face yet since patrol, and it makes his gaze piercing in the low light of the living room. He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, before shrugging eventually and folding his arms across his chest.

“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna say no to a free foot massage,” He shrugs, “Lemme take these stupid fuckin’ leggings off first - ”

“No!” Izuku blurts out, and he chuckles awkwardly as his grip tightens on Bakugou’s ankles. “I mean - um. You don’t have to, it’s fine.”

This time, Bakugou looks… curious, which is the only way Izuku can describe his gaze. He bites his lip a bit as he thinks, and when he wiggles his toes a bit, Izuku feels warmth pooling low in his belly. Bakugou’s feet are surprisingly slender, his arch defined beautifully, ideal for someone who has to be quick on their feet. His toes are slightly pink, as are the soles of his feet, and they look soft from being in his boots all day. Izuku swallows thickly, but god, he just wants to touch.

Is he into feet? Who knows, maybe, he honestly hasn’t thought too much about it until recently. Maybe he’s just into Bakugou’s feet? When Bakugou wiggles his toes again, Izuku finally glances up and catches his gaze.

“Well? What’re you waitin’ for,” Bakugou says, his voice softer than it’s been all night.

Izuku’s hands are large, tan, and calloused - a stark contrast against Bakugou’s pale skin, and at the fist press of his thumbs into the arch, Bakugou exhales quickly through his nose, body sinking further into the couch.

It’s a little difficult to massage his feet with the strap from his stirrups hugging his arches, but at this moment in time Izuku would rather die than ask Bakugou to take them off. He moves over to just one foot, pressing both thumbs into the heel of his foot, and he slowly works his way up, calluses catching onto the legging strap as he moves upwards.

“Did the bank robber get caught?” Izuku asks, hands firm but delicate, watching as Bakugou’s toes twitch when he digs in beneath them.

“What?” Bakugou replies, blinking his eyes open where they’ve fallen shut. “The - oh, shit. Yeah. Sero was actually patrolling nearby so he got him while I took the dumbass intern to medical.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Izuku chuckles, “We were dumbass interns once, too.”

“Interns, yes. Dumbass? No,” Bakugou shoots back, but then he smirks. “Well, I wasn’t a dumbass. Can’t say the same about you, nerd.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, and he can’t help it when his touch softens, hooking a finger underneath the stirrup strap to graze his nail along the delicate arch.

The reaction is instant - Bakugou inhales sharply and twitches, looking ready to pull his leg back, but Izuku holds onto the strap, preventing him from moving away.

“Deku,” Bakugou growls, and to everyone else on this planet, the expression on his face would scream angry, sharp, intimidating.

But Izuku’s known him since they were kids. Izuku can read him like a damn book, and right now underneath that glare, Bakugou looks nervous.

Izuku keeps his touch soft, one finger hooked into the stirrup strap, while his other hand grazes right beneath the blonde’s toes. His foot twitches again, his toes curling up tightly, and the only word that comes to Izuku’s mind is cute. His feet are cute, and apparently sensitive, and Izuku has no idea what monster has taken over his brain but all he wants to do right now is see Bakugou squirm.

He might be dipping into dangerous territory, but ever since they moved in together, Bakugou’s been much more open to physical touch. It almost feels like a game they’ve been playing, dancing around each other but never going to a place they can’t return from. They’ve fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. They’ve spent quiet days off with Izuku’s head in Bakugou’s lap, the blonde idly playing with his hair while they watch old reruns of All Might movies together. They’ve even spent a few nights together in bed, holding each other close when the nightmares creep up every few weeks.

But this? This might be a place they can’t return from. Izuku’s not sure what Bakugou’s feeling right now, but the lines are so incredibly blurred in this moment, and Bakugou’s cheeks are steadily turning pink, and Izuku knows he could pull away if he really, really tried.

But he’s not. He’s staying put, fingers clenched into the cushions of the couch, eyeing Izuku warily.

“You know,” Izuku says idly, moving one hand to grip Bakugou’s ankle, the other hand trailing his fingers up and down, up and down, so soft it’s barely there. “You used to be so mean when we were kids, holding me down and tickling me until I cried.”

At the word - tickling - Bakugou audibly swallows. “Not my fault you were so damn ticklish, idiot.”

“I could never really get you back because you were so much stronger than me,” Izuku muses.

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, I’m not fuckin’ ticklish,” Bakugou replies. His voice sounds sure and steady, but his eyes keep flickering down to where Izuku is still stroking up and down his sole. He’s tense, and Izuku can feel it - Bakugou’s trying so hard not to move, not to give himself away.

Izuku laughs quietly to himself. Of course Bakugou would see this as a challenge to himself.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, Kacchan,” Izuku says, “Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it might actually come true.”

“It is true, you little shit - ah!”

He squeaks, his breath hitching, when Izuku flutters his fingers under his toes again. His other leg, the one Izuku isn’t holding by the ankle, jerks back, and Izuku thinks no, we can’t have that now, before tendrils of black whip shoot out, pulling his other leg back and twisting around the ankle.

“Okay, now that’s completely fuckin’ unfair,” Bakugou grunts, trying to sound unaffected, but this time Izuku can hear the shake in his voice. “The hell are you tryin’ do here, Deku?”

“Nothing,” Izuku says, a few more tendrils of black whip emerging to wrap around his other ankle so both of Izuku’s hands are free now.

“You call this nothing?” Bakugou tugs at his feet a bit, and black whip tightens to keep him in place.

Izuku ignores him. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”

Bakugou frowns. “I’m not.”

“Then this is nothing,” Izuku teases, finally wiggling his fingers in earnest over both of Bakugou’s feet, now bound in his lap for him to do with as he pleases. The thought has his stomach flipping, molten lava settling low in his gut, and he can’t help his dick twitching in interest.

Bakugou’s reaction is beautiful, finally a small huff of laughter escaping him as he wiggles his feet as much as he can with black whip holding his ankles down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and they keep alternating from clutching at the cushion beneath him to hovering in the air as if he’s fighting his instinct of reaching down and showing Izuku away. His eyes are averting, as if the thought of watching Izuku tickle him is too much, and oh, he’s so cute.

Izuku’s feeling a little nice at the moment, but Bakugou’s fighting his laughter, and Izuku wants to hear him, so he moves his fingers up, scratching underneath his toes. Bakugou does laugh this time, covering his mouth with one hand in surprise as the sound escapes him. His toes curl, trying to block Izuku’s fingers, and a few more tendrils of black whip slither out and wrap around each of his toes, effectively prying them back so Izuku’s fingers can burrow into the soft, sensitive flesh there.

“Wait - no, Deku - ah, ahah.” His laughter is light and staccato, little gasps in between his growls as he covers his mouth with both hands now, muffling himself as his eyes squint in mirth. Once again, he could get Izuku to stop if he really wanted to, but besides the tugging and squirming of his bound feet, he’s not doing much else to get away.

That thought intrigues Izuku, and his confidence grows as he scratches in between his toes, pulled back and vulnerable thanks to black whip.

“I always thought your feet might be sensitive, you know, with how much you sweat and stuff,” Izuku muses, gears turning in his head as he makes mental notes on where Bakugou seems to react the most to. Underneath his toes seems much more ticklish than between them, but the arch of his sole seems equally as sensitive, especially when he pulls back one of the stirrup straps and rakes all five fingers up and down.

Bakugou gasps. “Y-you’re a d-dick,” he growls, but the words melt into laughter as Izuku does the same thing to his other foot before letting the strap go with a snap.

He gives Bakugou a moment to breathe, and the blonde finally lowers his hands from his mouth. His face is extremely flushed now, and he’s looking at Izuku with a mix of murderous intent and… want?

“Still not ticklish?” Izuku murmurs, rubbing his palms over Bakugou’s soles. The blonde twitches again, tensing, before relaxing when Izuku just rubs firmly, soothing.

“Once again - you’re a dick,” he grumbles.

“And you’re ticklish,” Izuku teases back, scratching his nails up the sides of Bakugou’s feet this time before making their way back to the soft, pink skin right beneath his toes.

“Don’t - Deku, st-stop! It f-fuckin’ - ”

“It what?” Izuku’s feeling mean now, and having Bakugou squirming because of him has his dick hardening more in his sweats. “It tickles?”

“I - I c-can’t - ahahaha!”

“You’re so strong, you can take it, can’t you?” And oh, Izuku’s playing dirty, because there’s nothing Bakugou hates than being told he can’t do something, and if he admits he can’t take the tickling, it’d be the same as admitting defeat, and Bakugou Katsuki is not someone who’s ever been defeated.

Although, Izuku thinks, watching as Bakugou covers his mouth again and squeezes his eyes shut, tickling might just be the key to finally defeating this man.

Izuku doesn’t like how muffled he sounds, though, so he uses more of black whip to sneakily slide up and twist around Bakugou’s wrists, tugging them away from his face. A few tendrils slip up his arms and slide underneath the sleeves of his hoodie, and Bakugou’s expression turns to panic.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” He hisses, but his lips are still twitching on a smile which ruins the intimidation of it. “This is an awful fuckin’ use of your quirk - ”

“So was last week, with yours,” Izuku interrupts, “when you were too lazy to microwave the popcorn and tried to just explode it instead.” Izuku laughs, remembering how long it took them to fish out all of the popcorn kernels from every single crevice in the living room.

“At least that was for a good reason!” Bakugou protests, squirming when the tendrils of black whip slip higher into his sleeves, nearly grazing his underarms now. His breathing is short, body tensed and mouth turned down in a pout.

“You’re saying this isn’t a good reason?”

“What, so fuckin’ torturing me is a good reason to abuse your quirk?”

“It’s torture?” Izuku murmurs. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

If Bakugou’s face could get any pinker, it would, and he bites his lip hard when Izuku wiggles black whip into the hollows of his underarms, keeping it light and feathery. Bakugou can’t hold out for long, though, and soon he’s gasping on a laugh and wriggling as much as he can in the hold Izuku has him in.

This time though, Izuku fails to notice Bakugou’s feet squirming aggressively, and Izuku freezes and gasps when the blonde’s bound feet nudge against the very obvious hard-on in his sweats.

Izuku swallows, his hands darting down to grab a hold of Bakugou’s feet. His toes are still tied back with black whip, and Izuku resists the urge to brush his fingers along the skin because something is unraveling inside of him and having Bakugou like this is quickly becoming addicting. Instead, he ducks his head, words escaping him as he opens his mouth but not coming up with anything to say.

A few seconds pass, Izuku preparing himself mentally for an explosion to blast him away or for disgusted yelling and screaming to occur. He’s already mentally drafting the text to Todoroki to ask if he can move in with him when Bakugou inevitably kicks him out once he’s freed.

A beat passes. One. Two. The silence is deafening, and Izuku finally manages to raise his eyes up to glance at Bakugou, surprised at the curious expression painted there. Bakugou nudges his heels gently against Izuku’s dick again, and Izuku hisses and bites his lip, apologies already spilling from his mouth,

“I’m s-sorry, shit, um - ”

“I should’ve fuckin’ known you’d be into something weird like this,” Bakugou says lowly, tilting his head a bit, almost like a cat analyzing it’s prey. “You’re a little freak, ain’t ya?”

The words should be harsh and piercing, but Bakugou sounds like he’s…. teasing him. And not in the mean, bullying way that Izuku was expecting. Their eyes meet, and Izuku sees a small hint of a smirk when Bakugou presses his heels in harder, wiggling against Izuku’s clothed cock as much as he can in his restraints.

“Kacchan - ah,” Izuku sighs, cheeks burning. “What’re you - ”

“What is it you like about it, huh?” Bakugou asks, his voice low.

Izuku’s head feels like it’s going to explode. “I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t even - I mean… I like….”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. His arms are still held tightly with black whip, the tendrils under his arms twitch when Izuku stutters, making Bakugou squeak quietly and jerk in his hold. That has Izuku’s eyes darkening again, and Bakugou still hasn’t blasted him away. If anything he’s egging him on, and Izuku’s mind races with what this might mean.

“I like… you,” Izuku starts off slowly.

“Me?” Bakugou questions, and if Izuku isn’t mistaken, there’s a twinge of something akin to hope in his voice.

“Yeah, you,” Izuku breathes, all rational thoughts thrown to the wayside now. “But I also like… having you, like this,” Izuku plays with the stirrup straps on Bakugou’s soles, fiddling with the fabric, breathing hard when Bakugou squirms each time his fingers graze the skin. “I like feeling you squirm. Hearing you laugh. Having you all… y’know, vulnerable for me?”

As he speaks, a few more tendrils of black whip slip under the front hem of Bakugou’s hoodie, slithering up and tapping away at his ribs. That has Bakugou giggling again, and god, Izuku loves his laugh. This is different from his normal laugh, it’s softer and hiccupy and the sound sends white-hot heat straight to his dick. Shit, could he come from this? Just from having Bakugou squirming and laughing and bound up like a perfect little present?

“Jesus - Izuku,” Bakugou laughs, rubbing his thighs together, and Izuku’s eyes widen when he sees a bulge in his leggings, now visible from where his hoodie has ridden up.

Izuku’s brain short-circuits then, and he’s now laser focused on the other boy, fingers moving almost mindlessly as they go back to scratching beneath sensitive toes. Izuku keeps his eyes on Bakugou’s face, his expressions, every twitch of his brow, and the blonde chokes on a laugh and ducks his head, trying to hide his face since Izuku has his arms pulled aside.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku asks, growing bolder the more Bakugou squirms.

“Fuck, oh my g-god, I d-dont - !”

Izuku moves finally, and though he keeps Bakugou bound with his quirk, he crawls up until he’s seated, straddling Bakugou’s thighs where they’re squeezed together, and now Izuku’s just a nudge away from Bakugou’s own obvious arousal.

“You don’t like it?” Izuku says, and this time, he withdraws black whip from underneath Bakugou’s hoodie, instead sliding his own hands beneath the fabric to touch bare skin. His hands are warm and large, fingers curling gently over Bakugou’s deliciously tapered waist, and though he doesn’t do anything yet, Bakugou’s shifting and squirming beneath him already.

Bakugou’s eyes meet Izuku’s finally, and when Izuku flicks his gaze down to Bakugou’s cock, hard as a rock in his leggings, Bakugou groans and ducks his head again.

“It’s not - I don’t know!” Bakugou breathes out, frustration clear in his voice. “You’re just - fuck, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, and Bakugou tugs helplessly at his arms again. Izuku hums, pulling his arms with black whip until his wrists are crossed, and then slowly - absolutely mean - he lifts Bakugou’s arms up and back until his elbows are bent, bound hands pulled behind his head and forcing Bakugou to lean back more into the arm of the couch. Izuku slides further up, straddling Bakugou’s thighs until their clothed cocks finally brush, and Bakugou breathes out a shaky noise.

“It’s okay,” Izuku breathes.

“Let me go,” Bakugou grumbles, but his eyes are averted, blush high on his cheeks, teeth gnawing at his lower lip nervously. And wow, having Bakugou nervous, beneath him where Izuku can feel the heat radiating off of his body, has Izuku grinding forward, rubbing their dicks together firmly.

Bakugou instinctively tries to buck his hips up, but with the way he’s bound up, he can’t get too much leverage. Once again, he’s still not blasting Izuku off into the sun with his own quirk, so Izuku drums his fingers against Bakugou’s bare sides, drawing little circles with his thumbs right beneath his ribs.

“Ah - ” Bakugou hiccups on another strained giggle, and Izuku grins at him sharply.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku repeats, tickling oh-so-gently, because now that he has his hands touching him, he can’t stop. He can feel every hitch of breath, can feel his body tremble with restrained laughter, and there’s definitely no going back from here.

When Bakugou doesn’t respond, Izuku creeps his hands higher, towards the upper part of his ribs. His hoodie is bunched up completely now, and although Izuku would love to remove the damn piece of clothing, he’s scared if he lets Bakugou go now, this electric bubble they’re both in will pop and Izuku will have missed his chance completely.

He grinds against Bakugou again, while at the same time finally digging into his ribs, and the explosive laughter that Bakugou lets out has Izuku groaning out loud.

“Okay - okahahay! Fuck!” Bakugou yelps, taking a breath when Izuku’s fingers finally pause. “I - fuck, I don’t know. I like… how it feels, not being… not being able to move or some shit, I guess.”

Bakugou looks like he’d rather die than tell Izuku all of this, but Izuku’s already gotten this far, and there’s nothing that would ever make him stop now. The blurred line is now vanished completely, and Izuku murmurs quietly,

“You like being tied up, Kacchan?”

Bakugou frowns, glaring at him, but doesn’t respond.

Izuku continues, smirking. “You like being tied up by me?”

Bakugou squirms a bit, staying defiantly silent.

“You like being tickled like this? Helpless, vulnerable, letting me do whatever I want to you while you can’t do anything to stop it?” Izuku has no idea where this filthy mouth of his came from, but he takes this newfound confidence and harnesses it, slipping a hand down to cup Bakugou through his leggings and squeeze.

“Nn - fuck,” Bakugou pants. “No, you asshole, I don’t like being tickled - ”

“I disagree,” Izuku says, and this time when he pinches at Bakugou’s ribs, he can feel Bakugou’s cock jump beneath his hand as the blonde gasps out a laugh. “I actually think you really like it.”

“Just - when it’s you,” Bakugou finally gasps out, giggling softly as Izuku crawls his hand higher. His words give Izuku pause, Izuku’s heart beating rapidly in his chest because oh. Okay. Just when it’s him? Because it’s him?

Oh.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, a magnetic pull tugging at his chest until he’s ducking down and kissing the laughter right out of Bakugou’s mouth. The blonde moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper, and Izuku happily licks into his mouth, chasing the feeling of god, fuck, finally.

Bakugou jerks his head to the side though when Izuku’s hand creeps higher, fluttering dangerous fingers into his underarm, and he yelps on a laugh, squirming and bucking up into Izuku’s other hand still kneading at his dick.

“Oh my god,” Bakugou giggles, shaking his head back and forth, and Izuku takes a moment to duck lower and kiss his neck, licking up beneath his jaw, biting gently right under his ear. That has Bakugou squeaking again, and Izuku moans as he feels the blonde tremble against him.

“God, you’re so cute,” Izuku moans in disbelief. “How can you be so hot and cute at the same time?”

“Y-you should be - ah, ahaha - asking yourself th-that - fuck, Izuku, I cahahan’t!”

Izuku stops tickling him for a moment and grins. “You think I’m hot and cute?”

“Not right now, while you’re ti - ,” Bakugou cuts himself off with an embarrassed grunt, not even able to say the actual word, and Izuku takes note of that happily, “Also, fuck you, I’m not cute.”

Izuku doesn’t respond right away, instead opting for shoving Bakugou’s leggings down so they’re bunched around his thighs, freeing his dick, before settling back up where he was seated before. He pulls his own cock out of his sweats, and when he wraps a large, calloused hand around them both and strokes, squeezing perfectly tight, Bakugou throws his head back and moans.

Tendrils of black whip slide down his legs where his feet are still tightly held in place, and as they flutter and scratch beneath his toes more intensely this time, Bakugou actually lets out a small sob, his eyes tearing up as he simultaneously tries to tug at his legs while also squirming up into Izuku’s hand on their cocks.

“You’re feet are so sensitive,” Izuku muses, his pupils so dark his eyes look black, and although Bakugou can’t really kiss him back while he’s laughing, that doesn’t stop Izuku from swallowing up every little noise he makes, lips spit-slick and panting against Bakugou’s mouth.

“Izu - Izuku, plehehease - ah, fuck, fuck,” He sounds like something straight out of one of Izuku’s wet dreams, and Izuku leans back again to stare at his face. Bakugou’s eyes are screwed up now, tears leaking out from the corners, and Izuku coos at him.

“Baby,” he says sweetly, “Is it too much?”

“Y-yes, I can’t - Izuku please.”

“I think you’re stronger than that. It’s just tickling,” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cock is leaking, and it’s making the slide of Izuku’s hand on them both so, so good. Izuku brings out some more tendrils of black whip, sliding them right back underneath Bakugou’s hoodie to return to the warmth of his underarms, and Bakugou screams.

“It’s so - ahhaha, it’s t-too much,” Bakugou whines, his breathless giggling mixed with moans that sound as if they’re being punched out of him, and his body is strung tight, so tight Izuku can feel how close he is to breaking.

There’s something so incredibly sweet about taking Bakugou completely apart like this. Izuku pants and grinds into his own hand, squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock against the blonde’s, and while black whip continues tormenting Bakugou’s poor feet and underarms, Izuku’s own free hand comes up to grip Bakugou by the chin, forcing him to look at him, eyes blurry through his tears.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his lips just a breath away from Bakugou’s, feeling the warm desperate noises coming out of the boy’s mouth.

Izuku swipes his thumb over the head of Bakugou’s cock, his own arousal forgotten as he slips down to squeeze at the base tightly, preventing the blonde from actually coming. Bakugou makes a guttural, desperate noise, and Izuku’s grip tightens on his face, keeping him there, watching him.

Izuku’s quirk is nearly everywhere by now, black whip slithering beneath the leggings to stroke behind his knees, a few more tendrils brushing and tickling at his neck, and even more settled beneath his hoodie, prodding and digging and relentless. The fight has completely left Bakugou finally, and he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, body shaking and fighting the plethora of sensations that are overwhelming him.

“Hey,” Izuku laughs a bit, “Baby, c’mon. Tell me how it feels.”

It almost feels evil, watching as Bakugou tries to speak, to come with something, anything to get Izuku to - what, to stop tickling him? To keep tickling him? To stroke his dick again until he comes all over himself? Bakugou’s brain is mush, and Izuku revels in the desperation painted on the boy’s blushing face.

“It - fuck, it f-feels like torture,” Bakugou manages to gasp out, but he bucks his hip up when he feels black whip dig into the ticklish dip of his hip.

“You like being tortured, it seems,” Izuku points out as Bakugou’s cock leaks another bead of precome, so red and hard it’s nearly purple.

“No - ” Bakugou hiccups on his laughter, eyes widening when Izuku raises a brow,, “I mean - fine, shihihit - yes, yes, I like it, god fucking d-damnit Izuku!”

“Shh,” Izuku soothes, but he doesn’t release his hold at the base of Bakugou’s cock.

“Please,” Bakugou whines, and Izuku nearly comes when he realizes he has Bakugou exactly where he wants him.

“Please what?” Izuku releases Bakugou’s chin and his hand slips under the hoodie, pinching right at Bakugou’s top rib, a place Izuku’s learned makes him absolutely lose it.

“Pl-please let me - ah, ahaha fuhuhuck - please let me c-come!” Bakugou’s crying in earnest now, ducking his head down to press his forehead against the crook of Izuku’s neck, and Izuku’s heart leaps when the blonde bites down on Izuku’s shirt, trying to muffle his noises in the fabric.

It’s adorable, and Izuku sighs happily. “Of course, Kacchan.”

He grabs ahold of both of their cocks again, this time stroking in earnest, fast and quick. It doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his hand before Bakugou is crying out against Izuku’s neck, writhing beneath him as he comes, and Izuku keeps tickling him through it. The sensation is electric, Bakugou’s body fighting to distinguish between pleasure and torment, and Izuku groans loudly as he uses Bakugou’s come to stroke his own cock.

“St-stop,” Bakugou giggles, completely breathless, “Too - too f-fucking much - please - ”

Izuku ducks back down to kiss the sweet helpless laughter right out of his mouth, finally coming, his own come mixing with Bakugou’s between them. Izuku heaves a deep breath, slumping against Bakugou as black whip finally retracts, disappearing back into his body and releasing the blonde from their clutches.

It’s quiet for a moment, Bakugou’s arms having fallen limp at his sides, head still buried in Izuku’s neck as he catches his breath. When he shifts, flexing his legs a little, Izuku leans back, sitting up and brushing Bakugou’s hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“Holy fuck,” Bakugou manages, blinking leftover tears from his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ evil, you know that?”

Izuku giggles nervously, still riding the high of whatever the hell just happened between them. Bakugou finally lifts his arms, wrapping them around Izuku’s waist loosely, and Izuku’s heart flutters when Bakugou leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth.

“You liked it,” Izuku says, turning to kiss him properly, now able to happily lick into the warmth without Bakugou’s laughter hindering him.

“Fuck off,” Bakugou murmurs into his mouth. “So what if I did, huh?”

Izuku just hums, because that blurred line being gone means that now he can kiss Bakugou whenever he wants, and that thought has him grinning widely and winding his arms around Bakugou’s neck.

“Ew, no, don’t get your nasty jizz-hands in my hair!” Bakugou protests, and Izuku laughs out loud, pulling his arms back quickly.

“Shit - sorry, sorry! We should probably get cleaned up, huh? Your hoodie is covered in come.”

“Good thing it’s not my hoodie, then,” Bakugou smirks. His cheeks are still flushed, and Izuku rolls his eyes as he takes his come-covered hand and smacks it right into Bakugou’s cheek before darting off of him and running away like his life depends on it.

Bakugou shrieks and scrambles to chase after him, and Izuku’s laughter echoes happily through their apartment.

#bakudeku #dekubaku #bnha #bnha tickling #tickling #worm writes #tickle fic

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itsscottiesstark · 6 months

Text

Occasionally I write stuff. I rarely post them on AO3. Here. 🤲🏽

Bingo card ~ 7.5k, Rating: Teens and Up

Takes place right after the church bombing in 1941, we follow Aziraphale and Crowley to the theatre and peek behind the scenes. Kissing. So. Much. Kissing.

Heaven isn't built to house a love like you and I ~ 37k, Rating: Teens and Up

Starting off right after the night at Crowley's flat, we take a peek into Aziraphale and Crowley's "precious, peaceful, fragile existence" they slowly carve out for themselves after Armage-not. We get to see Aziraphale slowly but surely reach out for the demon time and time again, bringing them closer than ever. Until Jim happens. And it all goes to shit.

SOOOO MUCH KISSING.

We keep this love in a photograph ~ 2k, Rating: General Audiences

1941-Bookshop. Aziraphale is reflecting back to his relationship with Crowley, trying to find some sort of logic in all those newfound feelings. Canon compliant so no actual kissing or anything else.

Undone ~ WIP 4/14 chapters out now, Rating: Teens and Up

Canon compliant-ish "What if...?" Story. What if Crowley had figured out Warlock wasn't the actual Antichrist a few days after he delivered the baby?

Crowley and Aziraphale move in next to the Youngs, posing as a married couple and help raise Adam as honorary uncles.

Just how awful would everything have been if they'd been at all competent?

This baby has got it all. Fake relationship, only one bed, slow burn, fluff, humour, some angst. By the end, 100ish thousand words of this.

I hope you enjoy these as much as I enjoyed writing them. If you did, there's more where those came from, in the works. 💕

Every middle of the night fic idea I have or prompt or an update on my WIPs is tagged #itsscottiesstark writes.

You can check out my posts with the tag #itsscottiesstark posts.

You can check out my gifs with the tag #itsscottiesstark gifs.

The posts I reblog and add something more to, are tagged #itsscottiesstark reblogs.

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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 months

Note

Ok yeah I’m here for Rosie and Tilly

Aaah well then here, have a blurb:

Warnings: none, utter fluff

Note: wrote this like in style like I’m Steven Ambrose talking about post war shit, don’t mind me

Massive credit to my babes @ab4eva & @crazymadpassionatelove as I literally just flowed our chat screams into fic forum

|| Synonyms

Tilly would later recount shared breakfasts like that. After the death of their father while away, the siblings prioritized spending time with their mother and often together, Eugene Brady not being as frequent a visitor due to distance.

So for much of their early married lives, having the Rosenthal’s stay over at the childhood home along with Jack and Tilly was commonplace for a weekend reprieve.

During which time old habits resurfaced and Tilly learned new aspects of the impressive Brady siblings she had only seen glimpses of.

At the breakfast table on these weekends, Rosie usually kept to drinking his coffee, open newspaper diligently perused, eyebrow raising every now and again. An amused smile permanently crinkling his eyes.

Tilly took a more active approach at breakfast, often gently laying a hand on Jack's knee, squeezing a warning to stop. He never stopped. Tilly would try going higher.

“Tilly.” Rosie would whisper to her from across the table and then just shake his head, as if to say ‘let them go at it.’

And so the kitchen would be filled with the sounds of mother tinkering at the stove, of Rosie flipping through the paper and Tilly trying to chat about some sale at a store to ignore the feuding siblings who would only get progressively louder and more verbose.

Rosie Rosenthal enjoyed a little blood sports with his eggs, Tilly said.

It was always about some trifling nonsense involving a childhood story the siblings remembered differently. That’s what kept it cute. It never mattered. It never harmed anything, it was forgotten by the time the plates were rinsed. Yet in the moment, both stuck to their version as the right one.

"That's the seventh time you've used 'false’.” Rosie would point out and Jack’s tirade would hiccup briefly, long enough only for his grey eyes to cut savagely over to Rosie, irritation and a just cause making his cheeks bloom.

‘Robert Rosenthal was one of those unfathomable humans who liked to watch arguments’ Tilly told John Hammond; even as in the case of the above, he enjoyed throwing in the occasional synonym suggestion when things were getting rote.

And he always winked at Tilly when he did while slurping coffee. They grew a deep bond, Tilly and Robert. Always there for each other, amused spectators and connoisseurs of a good Brady spat, utterly enthralled with their respective, cunty spouse. One presumes the siblings made it up to them at other times.

“Come to think of it...l believe l've heard this story about a family vacation before...but it didnt take place in Maine?” Rosie would occasionally fully interject, just to throw everything off, “Haven’t you heard this one before Tilly? Rhode Island, parking ticket. Haven’t you heard this one before? Swear I’ve heard this one before.”

#those who can #blurbs #Rosie x Tilly #Jack x Ida #masters of the air #mota #Rosie x Ida #Jack x Tilly #mota fic #rosie rosenthal

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souperbloom · 9 months

Note

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

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

enjoy <3

————————

sativa. [A.I.]

🍃 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

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

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

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

WORDCOUNT: 6.1k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

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

"…Fuck yes, dude!"

"Who has my bag?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why’s your leg doing that?"

"Dunno’. Just energized, I guess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yup."

"Mhmm."

"Yes sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We should stay up all night."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Perfect. It’s settled then."

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

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

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

"Nothin’."

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

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

"Ash, what—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For the sake of the joint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like what?"

"Like there’s something on your mind."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"…Prove it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y’look so pretty smokin’ my weed."

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

"Mhm."

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

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

"You look even prettier under me."

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

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

Yet he always came back for more.

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

"Fuck— that’s great."

"Isn’t it? She's a beauty."

"Mhmm… tastes nice."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll take that as a yes."

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

It was a match made in heaven.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know what I want."

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

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

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

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

"Am I?"

"Mhmm, heaven told me so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know I fuckin' do."

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

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

"You’re right, you’re right—"

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

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

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

"Nuh uh. Keep it on— I like it."

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

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

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

"Hm?"

"Want you to ride my face."

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

"Wh—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"God, I’d love to."

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

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

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

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where do you want me?"

"On my face."

You scoff, "Well duh, Ash."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just wanted to taste you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait— I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ashton, I--"

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

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

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

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

"Oh, Ashton."

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

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

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

”I’m— I’m cumming… Fuck, Ashton!"

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

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

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

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

"You're fuckin' crazy."

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

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

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

"What? You asked for it."

"Honestly, I could go again."

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

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

"Who said you were invited?" you joke.

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

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

"Hey, what time is it anyway?"

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

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

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

"1:30." You say in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #5sos #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton 5sos #soupster requests

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cementcornfield · 2 months

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TW Death:

so i got some pretty devastating news last night, that my good friend on here, @nacseo-scrawl passed away recently. some of you will know him, some of you might not, but he was the one to get me into the bengals, joe’marr, football, all of it. so much of what this blog is about, the people i’ve met, the friends i’ve made, none of it would have been possible without him. we were in a few fandoms together before this one, but i had just fallen out of a fandom that i was VERY into for years, and i saw nacs posting about joe and ja’marr and justin. now, i don’t think it’s a secret that i live in ohio at this point, and i had obviously heard of joe, i thought he was cute, i watched the super bowl with friends and was sad we lost, but that was it. i wasn’t a sports person.

then nacs started posting about these guys, and i dunno, something in me just snapped lmao. right time, right place, sometimes fandoms just grab you by the throat and you don’t know why. i guess it helped that i trusted his judgment. we’d been in a few fandoms together (since 2017!) and we had a lot of the same tastes.

we had talked a few times before, mostly in the tags, occasional DMs, but the joe’marr fandom was SO small when i first got into it (2 fics!!), that it sometimes felt like it was just us. so of course we started talking more, and i got to learn more about him as a person (in between frantic messages about what crazy shit joe and ja’marr had just done 🥲). and i learned he was kind, compassionate, and very clever. i loved his takes on what on earth was going on with this ridiculous team, i enjoyed his perspective on football and sports in general. he was a good person, a good friend, and entirely too young for something like this to happen.

i spent a lot of today going back through posts we reblogged from each other (i’ll reblog some after this i think, read his tags, he had A+ takes i’m telling you) and also through conversations we had. i think it’s fitting that the last time i talked to him was about joe calling himself a hot chick lmao. this is one of the last things he sent :’)

(he really was funny as hell)

#none of you have to read this btw. it’s really more just for me to process.#it’s wild how much of an impact someone can have on your life and you’ve never met them irl.#i’m grateful for everything <3 #just wanted to pay respects because if you’re one of the people who has told me i got you into joe’marr/the bengals…#it’s literally only because of him.

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rainytrashh · 4 months

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Stop worrying so fucking much

Fic type-> Hurt/ comfort + angst

Warnings*-> Anxiety/ panic attack, PTSD

Word Count-> 1931, a short story

Please check out my other drabbles either on here or on my AO3, the link is at the end <3

~Masterlist~ | Most popular post

*I’ve written Marc’s anxiety/panic attack off of mine that I’ve had in the past but I don’t have PTSD so if there’s anything I wrote wrong please tell me so I can fix it and improve my own understanding of it, thx and enjoy!

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You and Marc were working in the museum together, just chatting, not doing much of anything really. Well except when Donna was watching, which was more or less every five minutes or so because no matter how much you two tried to convince her that you were, in fact, cleaning the floors she just wouldn’t fuck off.

“Steven!”

They haven’t told her about their DID, they don’t think she’d react too well. They’re also glad she hasn’t been bothered to ask about the occasional shift in accents; she hasn’t cared enough to ask anyways.

“Donna-“

“Steven…”

“Donna, I’m cleaning you’re watching me do it.”

Daggers, right into his eyes. You can practically see them.

“Ma- Steven has the mop in his hand?”

-Is your attempt at defending him.

“Really?”

-Is her sarcastic reply.

You turn to Marc and give him a downwards smile, he side-eyes you pretending not to see but he can’t manage to suppress a grin of his own.

“And- I don’t see any mop in yours!”

She snaps, putting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t forget to do the bathroom, y’know the one someone managed to fuckin’ implode-“

“Yes, ok Donna.”

“Water literally everywhere! How does someone even-“

“We’ll. Be. Right. On it. Donna.”

You say stiffly cutting her off once more knowing their sensitivity around the subject, around what happened that day. Wouldn’t you still be a little freaked out if a massive demon dog chased after your alter and left you both just a little shook afterwards; finally making that alter finally aware of you? You know, big plot point in someone’s life to be honest.

Of course him and Steven are cool now, the whole ‘protecting the travellers of the night’ thing being over helps too. What doesn’t help is being able to remember all the bloody, action-packed, I’m-gonna-die moments that came along with it.

You give her the best ‘I’m being as polite as I can to you right now given that you’re my boss and I need this job, desperately’ smile that you have before she slowly turns and walks off.

“Could she’ve gone any earlier?”

“Yes, definitely.”

You catch his gaze after he glanced behind him in the direction of the bathroom.

“You… want me to do the bathroom?”

“No, no you don’t have to. I’ll help just like I’m helping now.”

You smile softly at him.

“Ok, I’ll take the mop. Do you wanna get the rag and spray bottle?”

He hands you the mop, swiping it from him letting the wheelie bucket it’s in trail behind.

“I’ll be back.”

He walks off to the cleaner’s closet.

You make your idle way over to the bathroom, fumbling a bit with your wired earbuds and phone to blast some music while you clean.

—

You see Marc in the corner of your eye, not being able to hear what he’s saying while waving frantically to get your attention. Taking one earbud out, you put the mop in the bucket and turn to face him.

“Sorry what?”

“I’ve got the rag and shit.”

He holds them up so you can see, he’s also oddly far away.

“Oh, ok yea. Just be careful the floor’s wet still. You… good?”

You glance down noticing he hasn’t stepped fully into the bathroom yet.

“Yea, of course.”

Your gaze clings to him worriedly before putting your earbud back in continuing to clean. You know better than to not trust his own judgement, who are you to tell him he’s not ok when he says he is…?

—

Alright Marc, time to do Steven’s job some more.

“You insisted on fronting today!”

As if on cue, an annoyed Steven from the back of his mind.

“I just wanted to talk to Y/n, I didn’t want to do your damn job.”

Marc snaps back almost instantly.

He looks up from the counter he’s wiping down and sees Steven looking back at him, he seems uneasy. A glance is shot in your direction to check you didn’t hear his sudden outburst.

“Marc…”

“What, Steven?”

“Your hands are… all trembly, maybe you should… take a step back from the situation mate.”

He sighs shakily, gripping the rag tighter in hopes to stop the shaking.

“I’m fine, stop worrying so fucking much.”

Steven scoffs. He throws his arms out and furrows his eyebrows obviously confused at how stubborn Marc’s being.

“I can quite literally read your bloody mind, you’re not fine!”

In turn Marc just hangs his head, closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths blatantly ignoring Steven. Eventually, he pries his eyes open and turns his head to face you, happily bobbing your head to your music trying to get a particularly stubborn mark out the floor- completely oblivious, as you should be.

He tries to focus on you, on grounding himself, as memories of that night weave their way into his head.

“It wasn’t nice for me either, please at least just tell them?”

There’s a sense of urgency to Steven’s voice now.

“Shut- shut the… shut up Steven.”

They both notice his voice beginning to falter despite Marc’s efforts to hide it. Him in particular notices it’s getting harder to speak because of his throat starting to close up, stupid adrenaline.

“Marc, you can’t be in here any longer…”

A plea from Steven- ever so soft, ever so tender, ever so endearing.

He tries to reply but nothing comes out, he ends up just pitifully mouthing Steven’s name. Everything is going so fast somehow, his breathing is getting heavier, sounds seem oddly muffled, and his body feels like it could topple over any second.

“Tell them.”

Marc tries to swallow but can’t get it down, he leans over the sink resting his forearms on the counter. He simply shakes his head and rests it in his hands.

As if Steven had managed to tell you from the mirror something was wrong, you turn around to see how Marc’s doing. Not so well obviously.

“Shit Marc, you ok?”

No reply although you see his shoulders tense up.

You yank your earbuds out and let them hang down from your pocket, the loud music swiftly reduced to a faint hum in the background. Jogging over to him you lean down a bit to try and see his face. He looks so… vulnerable like this. Your nerves begin to build up rapidly as you hear his raspy breathing.

“Marc? Please talk to me are you alright?”

He reluctantly turns his head just so he can see you out the corner of his eye, he’s crying now as you see tears drip down into the sink from his nose. He opens his mouth trying to speak again.

“Ok… come on, let’s get outside, give you some fresh air.”

He takes short gasps of air trying to catch his breath, and half the stuff you’re saying is getting drowned out by his heartbeat rapidly drumming in his ears.

You put a hand on his back as you pry him away from the sinks and lead him out the bathroom and through a backdoor, you have to hold onto him to keep his knees from giving out.

He immediately sits himself down against the wall with your help, you can feel his hands shaking against you.

“It’s gonna be over soon, just hang in there and… do what you need to do.”

You sit down next to him, God you really hope he’s gonna work himself through this. You know he will. You just care about him, a whole lot, and can’t help when you get scared for him whether he likes it or not. Seeing him like this is just so out of character, he’s always so confident and… shielded.

You start to pick your nails anxiously, glancing over at him regularly hoping for any kind of signal that he wants you to help more, that he’ll let you help more. In these situations you know he wants to be left alone, so even though you don’t feel like it you’re doing everything you possibly can.

He brings his knees up and rests his forehead on them, he digs his nails into the back of his head as he tries to calm his breathing down like Steven’s telling him.

“Focus on my voice Marc, don’t think just focus on my voice I’m here ok?”

“Breathe in, breathe out…”

“Don’t think about it think about what’s around you. What can you see, what can you hear, what can you smell…“

He’s trying, he’s really trying and so is Marc but he doesn’t seem to be calming down any time soon. His heart’s getting louder, his breathing’s getting choppier and everything is way more blurry than it was a few minutes ago. He doesn’t know what to do, and everything’s getting worse.

After what feels like forever you check your phone and see it’s barely been two minutes, while doing this you pause your music having forgotten completely about it letting it turn to white noise.

You let your head fall back onto the brick wall behind you. You sigh trying to calm yourself down now, you let the crisp wind hit your features and fill your lungs.

Unexpectedly you hear Marc’s breathing slow down, you whip your head around to face him and watch the grip on his hair let up.

“Marc?”

After a few tense moments you watch as he raises his head and faces you, tear stained face and red puffy eyes meet yours.

“Marc…?”

You furrow your eyebrows confused at his sudden shift in demeanour.

He shakes his head and gives weary smile, he taps his name badge- Steven.

“Oh…”

You nod your head, giving him a weak smile of your own.

“Well, you two good?”

He signals to his throat and nods instead.

Ah, it’s clicked in your head, they may have switched but all the physical things going on with the body would stay the same.

“Good…”

You both sit in a comfortable silence for a while, just letting the tension settle down. Ultimately one of you speaks up.

“Sorry-“

He clears his throat and stretches his legs out on the concrete staring down at his feet.

“Sorry you had to be around for that…”

“No don’t say you’re sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“But, we could’ve prevented it, easily!”

“It’s not Marc’s fault either Steven-“

“No no that’s not what I meant- I just… I could’ve done something. Take control of the legs or something and walked us right out of there, I didn’t. I don’t know why I didn’t, was I scared? Why was I scared to if I was scared? I just don’t bloody understand-“

“Steven.”

Your eyes meet, the calm in yours seeps into his before you look away. You reach to his hand and caress his knuckles comfortingly, oddly rough for someone who should be working in a museum.

“It’s ok now, what’s happened has happened, so try not to think about all these would’ves, could’ves, and should’ves. Just, think about what you’re gonna do about it in the future. Even better, focus on the now.”

Steven exhales weightily and lets his lead fall limp on your shoulder.

“You should tell Marc that.”

—

“Steven! Y/n! Where were you? No, I don’t want to hear it. You’re both getting inventory duty for a week. Yes a week, starting fucking today. Now finish cleaning that sodding bathroom, how long does that take you anyways I’d have it done in half this time already. No, I told you, I don’t want to hear it I’ve got more important things to do—“

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My AO3

#moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant #marc spector #this can be read as romantic or platonic between you and marc or steven #y/n #panic attack #anxiety attack #ptsd #please criticise my work it really helps #constrictive criticism tho #don’t be rude 😭#donna 🙄#hurt/comfort

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thefailedabortioon · 4 months

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The string that holds us together || Byler

WARNINGS: internalized homophobia

short summary: where mike finally spills the beans. and meanwhile on an ordinary night in november, two boys depart in a garage

requests are open!!

a/n: hai another flickergate fic to add onto the other 18 already existing fics. ^_^

heres the link to the og tumblr post (well, i think its the og post 😭) anyways i’ll stop yapping enjoy!

Will Byers had finally made a fascinating discovery; Mike Wheeler was an asshole.

Honestly, he didn’t know why he defended the guy for so, so long. Mike treated him like shit, why would Will feel like he should be the one begging for forgiveness to him?

Like, take for example, he didn’t even bother apologizing to Will after their argument in the rain. After he’d lost Will again when he biked away. The rain drowning his tears rolling down his red cheeks away. Even after he and Lucas had found him near Castle Byers destroyed by Will’s own hands, his lips never uttered a singular “Sorry.” Oh, but him and El? Those two made up quick. Next thing Will knew, Mike was professing his love for her and how he “couldn’t lose her again!” Has he ever said that about Will? His own best friend?

Or maybe, how Mike probably never even dared to pick up a pen and start inking down a letter for Will. He could write down El letters no problem. Hell, he could write her an entire book! But to Will? Someone he’s known since he was six years old! He couldn’t even call? Then, of course, to make up for the no contact, he decided to give Will the most half-assed hug to ever exist at that airport.

Or how about when he forgot his birthday. March 22nd. His best friend. Someone who Will considered the most special person he’s ever met. Someone who Will wants to spend the rest of his life with, forgets his own birthday. Who the hell does that? I mean, what? They’ve friends for seven- eight years?!

But right now, right now he has to pretend none of that ever even happened. He has to shrug all of that away. Pretend his heart wouldn’t ache at how he was slowly losing his once best friend.

Because some shit is more important than how his old tight-knit relationship with Mike is literally hanging on by a thread at this point. Like how they needed to save the world. Again.

The Upside Down was dark. And cold. It didn’t look like it changed at all, but even so, a chill ran through Will’s back with every step they took in this twisted dimension. Then somehow, by some Satan-blessed miracle, he got lost with the last person he wanted to be with; Michael Wheeler. Just peachy.

“I-I’m just saying, it’s a fucking wonder how Steve Harrington managed to survive in this shithole for so long, you know? Like- My sister, she’s a fucking badass, right? And Eddie, that guy’s got survival instincts, he could thrive in an apocalypse for years. And that uh- what’s her name- Robin? Yeah, she’s- she’s cool. But Steve? The same guy who got absolutely shitfaced by your brother?” Mike scoffed.

“Uh-huh.” Will was only partially listening, trying to keep up behind Mike and his weirdly long legs.

They were navigating themselves towards the Wheeler’s house, but it’s literally (and figuratively) hell trying to look for it in the Upside Down’s dark atmosphere and clouded skies. The only thing lighting their ways was the bolts of lightning that would occasionally crack and thunder in the crimson red sky. Oh, and the continuous flickering of the streetlights.

Mike continued to ramble on, wanting to at least make small-talk, Will knew that this was just another way to try and cope with the fact they had gotten themselves lost in a completely different dimension. Another way to try and convince himself that everything will be fine. Will knew too well.

As they neared the neighborhood, a vine cracked around the two.

“Mike, shut up.” Will raised his shotgun, cocking it, the latter only nervously chuckled before gripping his pistol.

An eerie quiet fell between the two, it was suspenseful. Anxiety struck Mike between his ribs after every second that passed by that the silence didn’t break.

A loud screech played from the distance, and the two let out a deep sigh. “Holy crap.” Will exclaimed, lowering his gun on the ground. He sat down and brought his knees up to his chest, holding his head in his hands.

Mike’s breathing was all over the place, his heart was racing. (Because of his anxiousness. Not at all because of the way Will looked holding that gun.) Whatever that thing was hadn’t even attacked them, yet he was a rattling mess. To be fair, it is his first time in this hellhole.

“Are you okay?” Mike finally spoke, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fine.” Will swallowed a lump in his throat, “Let’s get going.”

Mike nodded, holding his hand out for Will to hold. Surprisingly, he didn’t refuse it, using it to get back on his feet. “Yeah, let’s go.” And just for a split second, Mike had given Will that look again. Where he just looks so mesmerized and smitten. As if Will had hung the stars in his dark horizon. It didn’t last for any longer than just a split second.

After a while of walking, they finally reached the Wheeler’s residence. Where everything happened. The house where Mike himself couldn’t even call it home. “Come on, follow me. I’ll lead you there.”

“I’ve been to your house a thousand times, Mike. I know where your garage is.” He wouldn’t let Mike see it, but in the faintest of all smiles, was a grin plastered on Will’s lips.

“Yeah, but it’s dark.” Mike retorted.

No shit, Sherlock! Was what Will wanted to say, bitterly. But he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the time. “Fuck. It’s locked.”

“Great.” He sighed, “Could you lead me to the keys as well?”

Mike hesitated to answer, as if he was debating if Will was being sarcastic or not, “It’s gotta be here somewhere.” He finally replied, pushing himself between Will and the door.

The two split up, despite how dim it was, Will at least had common sense. So he started to look for bowls that could hold the keys. Maybe they were hooked against the front door? He continued searching, flashing his light on for the darker areas of the house, such as the basement.

“Will!” Mike called out, running back to where he left him. “Found the keys!” He beamed, and Will literally felt his heart skip a beat at how much he missed seeing that smile.

“Don’t shout so loud! Remember, if any other creature hears you, so can Vecna.”

“Right. Sorry. Hive-mind.” He swung the keys around before twisting it in the door. “Open sesame.”

Will snorted, trying to keep his guard up for anything that could lunge at the them at any second. He shone his flashlight against the shelves on the wall. “Mike, crowbar.” With no question, Mike ran over and took it from the toolbox.

He stuffed it inside his backpack along with his other materials. As he tried to make it fit, a pair of longing eyes bore into the back of his head.

Will grimaced, when did they get so distant? Physically, they were close. But emotionally, it feels like he doesn’t even know him anymore. As if they haven’t known each other since kindergarten. As if he hadn’t replied ‘yes’ to him that day on the swings. It’s felt like eons since they last had a conversation without a thick cloud of awkwardness floating above them.

If El had never came along would their relationship remain the same? But then again, if she had never saved him, there would be no relationship at all. Will used to be so confused why he had so much hope in Michael Wheeler, but these past few years made him understand why. It’s just so hard to say it out loud and a guilt would rise in his throat every time he thought about it.

“Mike?”

His friend perked up at him, “Yeah?”

“Are we… still friends?”

“What?” Mike scoffed, confused.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” He paused, thinking it over. Were they? “You don’t- You don’t think of me as your friend anymore?” He asked, voice faltering in worry.

“No! No, I- I just..”

“What?”

“I dunno… we were just so close. But it feels like there’s this huge gap between the two of us now.”

“I…”

“It feels like you’ve been pushing me away.” Will finished, his brows furrowing.

“I’m not pushing you away.” The tallest out of the two stated, Mike looked dejected, like he was trying to convince himself of that more than Will, who broke through his lies easier than everyone else. Because Mike always kept his walls thin and easier to break whenever it was Will. Because it was him, and not anybody else.

“Then why does it feel like I can’t even say anything to you anymore?! Like, you just turned into everyone else? You didn’t even-“ Will cut himself off, tears burning the back of his eyes. He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his pants.

Mike’s chest tightened, has he been neglecting Will? All this time? Something inside of him wanted to beat himself up for letting his friend- best friend deal with everything, his own inner conflicts all by himself.

Will let out a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. It was dry, flat. “Couldn’t even call?”

“What- What do you mean!?” He stuttered, “I did call, Will! I tried! But you never picked up! You’re acting as if you haven’t been pushing me away as well! Ever since- Ever since I arrived in Lenora you’ve been weird—“

“Weird? Really? Really, Mike?! I’ve been the one acting weird?”

“Yeah! Just-“ Mike sighed, “You know what? Forget it. It’s stupid.” Mike threw his hands in the air, trying to mediate the situation yet failing miserably. He grabbed a bike, removing its brakes, twisting the handles in his palm.

He wanted the fighting to just stop altogether. He couldn’t face Will. He couldn’t face the effects of the conflicts he caused. Because if he did, then everything would crumble. The Earth would crack and break in two while he tried to balance himself on both sides above the split made. And eventually, he’d fall. And fall endlessly into the scars of his mistakes. The scars that run deep into his veins, his soul. Everything hurts.

“No. No, Mike, you can’t keep doing this to me. You’re- you’re doing it again! You’re pushing me away! You’re shutting me out!”

“I’m not! Please, can we just stop?! This is meaningless okay? Where are you even going with this?! You want me to say sorry? Apologize?“

Will didn’t move or say anything, his brows furrowing further, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Then I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry! I’m really fucking sorry. I’ve been a selfish dickhead and I’ve just been scared. Okay?! So fucking scared.” He screamed, panicked. The first tear that dropped fell from Mike. The waves hit the walls hard, and it was as if a dam had finally broke. He finally broke. “I didn’t want to see- acknowledge you, I couldn’t even stand looking at you anymore! Because something in me would ache, like- like something burning in my fucking soul! And it hurts, Will. It hurts so much. And I’ve felt so guilty for everything that I just… I thought the best solution was to just push everyone away! Push you away…” His voice cracked at the end, tears falling endlessly against his rose tinted cheeks.

He huffed out a breath, “I’ve been going crazy because of it. And I just… I don’t want to keep lying to you anymore. Wasn’t that our number one rule? ‘Friends don’t lie.’ If- If you could even consider me as your friend anymore.” Mike wiped his tears away, ridding the blurriness in his eyes keeping him from seeing his best friend.

Will stood before him, mouth agape. He didn’t realize it, but at some point, he’d started crying as well. Everything, every word Mike said, it felt like boulders finally crashing down from Will’s shoulders, freeing him from the weight of his guilt.

“Mike…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, sorry, Will. I shouldn’t have said anyth-“

“Stop apologizing for one fucking second, Mike!” Will cut him off.

And there was this moment. A beat.

Then without any thought or reason, driven by pure impulse, Will threw himself against Mike, colliding their mouths together. His lips were soft, and wet. Will had waited for this for so, so long, it became maddening and impossible for him to stop himself from lunging towards his best friend, his crush for basically nine years, the love of his fucking life. Will kept his hand against the low of Mike’s back, the other cupping his cheek. His thoughts scrambled, unable to make one coherent thought because he was kissing Michael Wheeler , (who he once thought was as straight as a ruler, but he’s been wrong about a lot of things.) Kissing Mike was like finally letting go of all the suppressed tension bottling inside of his stomach. Kissing Mike was freeing his soul from the chains of his insecurity and hopelessness. Kissing Mike felt so fucking good.

Fireworks exploded in Mike’s head when he finally got to taste Will Byers, or maybe that was just lightning thundering behind them. The piece of string that wouldn’t stop pulling at his heart had let go. And all the yearning, and hoping, and wishing came true. Everything became so confusing, he hadn’t imagined Will to even look at him with that same look of longing he’d always give him. And so God help him, if this was another cruel trick by Vecna, he’d rather just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid. He grabbed Will’s hands, intertwining them into his own.

Will finally pulled away, lips pink. Sometimes he wished human beings didn’t need oxygen to live, because then he could kiss Mike for longer than eternity. “If you’re… going crazy, then we’ll go crazy together. Okay?” He said firmly.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Crazy together.”

Will tittered, “Asshole.” He held his best friend close, not wanting to let go.

A loud buzz rung above the two, the light in the Wheeler’s garage started to glow. And faintly, you could hear an echo of a voice from the other side.

—

Meanwhile, on a seemingly ordinary day in November, were two boys giving their final goodbyes to each other for the night.

“It was a seven.”

The other turned.

“The roll, it was a seven. The demogorgon, it got me.”

“Oh.”

“See you tomorrow!”

As Will biked away, a flicker of the ceiling light buzzed in the garage.

#stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #st4 #byler #byler nation rise #will byers x mike wheeler #flickergate #byler gates #byler endgame #i love them both so much they deserve the world #mike wheeler defender

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ghostbox-nostalgia · 4 months

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Ok so I have roughly 4 modern au ideas, and I'll make separate posts for the details of them.

#1: a super fluffy childhood friends who are separated after high school and meet again in adulthood story. Toothrotting in its sweetness, little bit of angst from the separation, a well balanced meal really.

#2: my own youtuber au where 35 year old Narinder feels absolutely abysmal in his law career and, having more than enough money at that point to care for him and his kids, decides to pull a complete 180 and starts doing youtube. Eden is a variety channel and streamer, Narinder tends to stick to mortuary video essays but dabbles in ghost hunter type stuff (I think it'd be funny if he didn't believe in ghosts so it's just him going to these haunted looking places and not giving two shits. Very buzzfeed unsolved type energy). They meet because a haunted manor they both wanted to check out booked them at the same time by accident so they decide to go together for the hell of it. Edens like 27-28ish in this au

#3: jazz band player/singer by day, hitman at night Eden with debt collection agency Narinder. I like this one because I had the idea that Eden could hide their weapons in a cello case in a hidden compartment. I chose for Narinder to be the head of like a loan place because it felt like a cop out to just say he's a mafia boss, although that is closer to how he acts. Inspired by the Beginners Guide to Faking Your Death album by Jhariah. Actually goated music for real

#4: Eden as a getaway driver and street racer, Narinder is one of rich patrons who bets on the races hires them to occasionally help with like heists and shit. I don't really know what job nari would have other than Guy With A Lot Of Money but i'll figure that out. Inspired by my brother playing need for speed while I was at his house

I'm sure I'll think of more but that's what I have for now. If you guys want more thought out modern aus, might I suggest the White Collar Au by @bleeding-seraphic ? It's on ao3 and I'm So Very Normal about it. Or the Kitchen Sink au by @xmajordumps . That one doesn't have a fic yet but the arts scrumptious so enjoy :]

Yeah that's it from me for now. Very eep, goodnight o/

#cult of the lamb #cotl au #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #modern au #tgoe au #ish #more like thats the lamb thats featured #anyway the first one is one of my favorites cause its just two fellas being so affectionate #i might make a separate post just for that one actually #anyway i ungorked my neck #very happy about that

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nervoushottee · 4 days

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Flaws and All CH. 3 | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: you getting jiggy with it with a knife to a can of frank and beans (no blood though)

Summary: You and Joel are on the road to Abe's place but stop to make camp before it gets too dark. You thank Joel for saving you.

Note: AHHHH GUYS HI! You have no idea how happy I am to post this. Fall is ever so approaching and I've been getting more into the comfort mood of the cold. I have been honestly writing this fic off and on throughout the time the last chapter was posted. I think I was at my previous job when I started this fic. But I quit that job and then I got a shitty 9-5 job and I quit that one haha! But no need to worry, just so happy my fingers are tapping on a keyboard again to write stories I can't stop thinking about.

Enjoy hottees!

(Light editing)

—————————————-

Besides old cars and debris, the roads were thankfully quite bare. Nothing but the frequent deer and occasional squirrel crossing the road, that would scare you from time to time. But you would rather the fleeing animal stop you both than a group of raiders any day.

Rain came an hour or so into the drive and washed away the snow dusted roads. You would miss it but it was better to not worry about snow if the two of you would need to camp for a night before reaching the place Abe talked about. You and Joel hadn’t said much of anything beside you giving him directions if he needed it. And the two of you learned early on that you didn’t really know how to read a map.

You got pretty embarrassed after that, and it was one of the main reasons why you hadn’t spoken up. So the two of you rode in silence, you laid your head in the palm of your hand against the passenger window and watched the scenery pass by.

You don’t know when or how long you fell asleep for but a bump in the road wakes you up. Blinking once or twice and rubbing your eyes with your good hand, you look around to see if any of the scenery has changed. “Sorry.” you hear Joel mumble.

“I tried to avoid any bumps or potholes. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says in a low voice. Almost as if he keeps his tone soft and serene, you’ll fall back asleep.

Shaking your head to dismiss his apology, you sit up straight from the slumped position you once were in. “I needed to get up anyway.” You yawn a bit, covering your mouth while doing so. “How far have we gotten?”

Joel nudges his head softly to indicate the road ahead, “Not too far now. Maybe six or seven hours til we get there, give or take.” he pauses before saying something else.

You’ve noticed so far that Joel takes his time in trying to find the right words to say to you. Even if it's just about the simplest things like the coffee he handed you back at the station. You wondered if there was a reason behind his pauses and his hesitance. Was it because of the way the world was now? Having to choose the right words to say to strangers who may or may not rob you in your sleep. Or was he like this before all of this happened?

You didn’t think he was a stranger to you, not anymore. And maybe that was stupid to think on your part to let your guard down so early on and think of him as your partner now. But something in you felt it was alright to.

“Reckon it might be time to call it a night though. I don’t want to be on these roads when it’s dark. We haven’t seen anyone for miles and we’re lucky, but that luck might run out when the sun goes down. So it’s best to not stay out here and test that.” He finally tells you. You don’t disagree with him either. It's been a straight miracle that the two of you hadn’t seen anyone since the day when the settlement went to shit.

“Have you ever been here? Abe's place?” You couldn’t pronounce the city from the map that sat on your lap and you were still kind of groggy to even try.

“Not particularly. ‘Ve heard of it but I’ve never been. It’s another reason why I’m not too keen on taking these roads at night.” He tells you.

You hum in response, closing the map and tucking it back into your backpack that sat at your feet. After a few minutes, Joel found a clearing that was wide enough to push the truck through and head into the forest. The drive was bumpy, and you were thankful that the tires hadn’t popped with how many old branches and rocks it drove over. Once Joel felt it was a good spot deep enough into the forest to not draw any attention he parks the truck and shuts off the engine.

“Okay-” you say to gather yourself while unbuckling your seatbelt and turning to open the truck door. Your hand on the cold medal. ready to push it open until you feel a gentle touch against your elbow that stopped you.

“Wait-” Joel hesitates, removing his hand from your arm in the process. He looks at you, pausing again like he wants to say something else after that but falters. He turns his head to look out the front window then the rear view mirror before he eventually speaks.

“Let me take a look around first, just in case.”He asks you shyly as if you would deny his request. To take the initiative to look out for any danger before you come out.

And maybe you would've put up a fight a few hours ago, but your body hasn’t fully woken up from your nap. Still fuzzy, warm and comfortable in your sitting position. You nod your head in which gives Joel the reassurance of you staying put until he says it's safe.

With the light slam of the truck door, you see Joel’s fleeting form in your side view mirror. Gun in one hand and flashlight in the other, he walks around the area you two have called home for the night to make sure it’s safe. And you tried to stay awake, you really did, but the sleep called you back so easily that you slipped right back into it.

When your door opens unexpectedly you awake in fright. Your eyes widen as you frantically pull out the knife that you were sitting on the whole ride. Your healing hand is screaming at the harsh friction.

“Hey-Hey it’s me. It’s just me, you’re okay.”Joel says to you with his hands raised. You refocus your eyes and see that Joel is in fact in front of you. It’s not a raider that killed Joel and now is after you and the goods in the truck. Just the man that’s been your traveling partner these few days. The man you’re starting to trust with your life.

With his eyes never leaving yours, he nods his head softly. Silently telling you that it’s okay, there’s nothing to be afraid of. That it’s just him. He places one of his hands on yours in a sign of comfort before slowly reaching for your knife. “Sorry I scared you. I tapped on the window but it seemed like you were out cold.”

You nod your head in response. Placing a hand against your chest, feeling the rapid pitter patter of your heartbeat from the scare. You close your eyes for a second to try and catch your breath as you inhale and exhale slowly. You hear the soft mutter of Joel repeatedly telling you that you’re okay and that it was just him. He’s still so close to you, the warmth of his body, the smell of his skin and the sound of his voice help you to relax. You open your eyes when you feel Joel's calloused thumb move lightly back and forth against the top of your hand. Continuing the gesture, he uses his other hand to take the knife out of yours.

Looking down at his hand placed on top of your injured one, your heart doesn’t let up from the rapid heartbeat. Now it has a different meaning. Not from being afraid of dying or being tortured or whatever bad thought you had moments before. But from the small gesture of tenderness from the quiet man in front of you.

As quickly as the gesture happens it goes aways. As Joel clears his throat, moves his hand and steps back. He moves enough for you to get out of the truck.

“The spot is good. Once it gets dark, you won't be able to see the truck from far away. I had a hard time lookin’ even now.” That explains why you were able to fall asleep. He had been gone for a while.

“We might have to keep the fire low tonight or even just sleep in the truck after we eat to keep ourselves from sticking out in the dark just in case.” He explains to you.

“Makes sense.” you say to him as you pull a few items from the back seat of the truck. “I’ll get dinner started then.”

The two of you work silently. Joel goes around to collect pieces of wood and bark to make a small fire. You gather a few cans of food to start dinner. Noticing that the supply was getting scarcely low, even with the small amount of things you found in the gas station. Making a mental note to tell Joel about it later, you sit on the ground across from him while he gets the fire going. You place the cans down in front of your crossed legs and get to opening them with your knife.

The sounds of aluminum cracking and the crackling of burned wood filled your ears as you worked to open the cans. The tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth absentmindedly as you push through the top of the can with your knife firmly.

“What are you doin’?”

You look up to see Joel staring at you, still kneeled in front of the slow growing fire.Your tongue going back in your mouth as you pick up the can you already have half open. You hold it up and look at him confused. “Making dinner.”

“I see that. But why are you using the knife? You tryin’ to get a cut on your other hand?” He asks you smugly, a small faint smile curling on his lips.

You roll your eyes, “This is how I always do it. How do you think we had cold tomato soup last night? Or When we had uh- slimy chicken soup the other night.”

“I have a can opener.” He states. It was true, he did have a can opener. A small one that annoyed the hell out of you with how hard you had to grip the metal and turn it with all your might. You’ve used can openers all your life and you had never seen a can opener as shitty as that one. “I know you do.” You tell him.

“And yet you still want to use that to open it? You could cut yourself.” He points at your knife. “Hey. If I don’t use this, I will be battling with that stupid thing for 10 minutes to open one, let alone two. This is way is easier.” You explain as you extend out your knife.

“Let me do it then so you won’t overwork your hand.” Joel says as he begins to stand up.

“No, no, I’m fine Joel. You get that fire going.”

Joel shakes his head, the small gleam in his still there before he lets out a breath that can almost sound like a chuckle. “Well be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”You hum a response and get back to work, your tongue sticking back out as you concentrate. Nearly finishing the first can, you still feel the heaviness of someone staring at you. Looking up to see Joel watching you and your hands work against the aluminum can.

“Well I can’t work carefully with you staring so hard. I’m gonna lose my focus.” you tell him dramatically. He relents by lifting his hands up in surrender, turning back his focus on the fire. You open the second can a lot faster without his ogling.

After the fire was set and the cans were warming , the two of you sat by the fire. The sun was setting, the sky nearly dark and the sleeping bags underneath you both to aid against the cold damp ground. Your jacket zipped up to your neck and Joel’s zipped up to his chest.

With fire crackling embers that float toward the sky, the moon hovering over you and the stars twinkling in the night. It almost feels normal. Like you’re out camping instead of surviving and it nearly makes you start crying. How nothing will ever be the same again.You would think after dealing with raiders and runners and whatever the hell else that's out there for a couple years would make you used to it. And it did for the most part. But there’s always that small faint feeling that creeps up on you when you hope the next day will be normal. That you wake up and you're back in your apartment waking up on your couch from this crazy dream

Clearing your throat, you force the thought away. You carefully pick up the warm can wrapped in one of your shirts to keep yourself from burning your hands. You blow lightly against your spoon to keep the food from burning your mouth before eating. You eat in silence, occasionally stealing glances at Joel who looks as if he’s staring right at you. But you know he isn’t. He’s looking past your shoulder seeing if there’s any danger lingering in the dark. Hiding behind a tree waiting to sneak on you both at the perfect moment.

“I think we’re okay.”you say to him.

His eyes move towards you before flicking down back to the can of frank and beans you gave him a few minutes prior. “You did a sweep before you started eating. If there was someone out there, they probably would’ve come out by now.” You don’t know if you were saying this is for his reassurance or yours.

Joel eats a couple spoonfuls before speaking, “Can never be too sure.” he shrugs.

“We should clear this up soon and call it a night in the truck just in case.”

You don’t fight him on the decision. He’s kept the two of you safe for this long and you hadn’t complained, so you weren’t going to complain now. The scar on your palm itches in remembrance of how he saved you the first time.

Joel finishes his can before you, so he begins to gather the items you brought out back into the truck. You finish your food right when he’s done, the only thing left to do was roll the sleeping bag that was under you and to put out the fire. Joel pours a small amount of water on the flames and stomps the rest out, making the small area turn nearly pitch black.

The air is colder without the heat of the blazing orange. You opted not to put your sleeping bag away, but to use it as a makeshift blanket for the truck. With your passenger door open, you slide into the seat of the car, tossing your backpack in the back, Joel doing the same.

You let out a sigh, trying to get comfortable but you somehow feel Joel’s stiff movements. You turn to look at him and see his door still open, half of his body out of the truck. “You okay?”

Joel and his hesitance. He stares at you for a few seconds. “I’m gonna check again before we call it a night. Just to see how the truck looks at night and see if we need to move or not.”You don’t respond to him immediately, and it seems to almost make Joel falter in his words. “Okay.”you pause, “Be careful.” He nods his head before getting out fully, telling you he’ll be right back.

“Wait!” you say a little loudly. Joel opens the door and sticks his head in first with his eyebrows raised at your request. You twist in your seat to get to your backpack, and pull out your knife and slowly hand it out to him. His lips slowly quirk up into a smile as a way of thanking you. “Lock the door. I’ll knock on the back of the trunk first so I won’t startle you again.”

With the plan set, Joel closes the door and gets swallowed by the darkness of the night. Your heartbeats a bit quicker when you think of anxious “what-ifs”. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he does and he’s hurt? What if there actually is someone waiting in the shadows for the right moment to act?

Morals were the last thing on anyone’s mind in this world. Now, it was only about survival of the fittest. No matter what you had to do or who you had to hurt to see another day. And in the beginning, it made you sick. The killing and the screams and everything else in between. Some days it still does.

But with Joel, it felt a little easier. Especially with how cautious and attentive he’s been today. From what you’ve gathered from the short time of being at his side, he seems to have always been a cautious and attentive man. But since the gas station, since the call with Abe, he’s even more so. You won’t ask him about it though. You won’t pry just yet because it makes you feel safe. Something you haven’t felt in a long time and you truly don’t know what he’ll say if you ask him. Or that he’ll stop altogether.

Just as Joel had said, you hear two taps against the back of the truck before seeing Joel’s dark form. You reach over the front seat and unlock his door so he can get inside.

“All good?” you ask him.

He takes a second putting his flashlight in one of the cupholders and starts to make himself comfortable. Letting out a sigh of relief or exhaustion (you couldn’t tell which one). He finally nods, “Could hardly see the damn thing in the dark, and even with the light.” he gestures to said flashlight.

“That's good news.” Joel hums in agreement.

The two of you sit in silence, the only sound is crickets in the trees and the rustling of forest animals. “Nearly forgot-”Joel says as he takes out your knife and hands it to you.

“Oh.”you say in surprise, forgetting yourself that you had given it to him in the first place. You were glad he didn’t have to use it and told him as such. He agreed right along with you.

“So when we get to Abe’s place, what’s next?” you ask him softly in the dark. If it wasn’t from the moon cascading its light against the front glass of the truck, you probably wouldn't be able to see him. You can’t see much as you would with the daylight or even the evening haze. But enough to see that his eyes open when you ask him the question.

“Keep moving I guess.” He says simply. “Abe said we could stay temporarily but we won’t know how the place is until we get there. We don’t know how secluded it is or if it sticks out like a sore thumb so, we can’t really make much plans until we get there.”

You turn to the sound rustle at the side of your door, but don’t see anything. And Joel doesn’t make any movements that indicate danger. If you listen as hard as you can, you can hear the small sounds of squeaking. A rat or a squirrel you tell yourself with a sigh.

You subconsciously scratch at your clothed palm as you look out the window. Accepting that the rustle sounds weren’t an animal but a raider.

“Lemme take a look at this.” Joel says as he softly takes your injured hand into his. It causes you to move your attention from outside to him. Turning your head you watch as Joel repositions himself so he’s turn slightly towards you to get a better grip on your hand. “How’s it feeling?”

You shrug, “It doesn’t really hurt anymore, just itches from time to time.”

He nods before slowly untucking the end part of the cloth. “Should be okay to take this off now.”

You watch as Joel holds your hand in his as he attentively unwraps the cloth. Despite telling him you’re not in pain he’s still just as gentle as the first time he helped you. After the last piece of gauze falls from your hand, the two of you see a red angry scar in your palm. A scab forming over it.

You slowly make a fist with your scarred hand a few times to see how it feels. It’s not all the way healed, but it’s freeing to not have the gauze on all the time. Joel hasn’t said a word as he watches you make a fist and open your hand back up again. He uses his thumb to lightly trace the scar. Your breath falters slightly from the sudden touch. You hope he didn’t hear it.

“How’s that?” He asks, staring at you, waiting for your reply.

You nod your head, Joel turns back to your scar and this time his thumb rubs against it a bit firm then before. It stings a little but it isn’t terrible and you tell him as such.

He nods at the information before softly placing your hand back down on the truck’s center console. “Good. Should be fine then without the cloth. It needs to breathe so it can heal fully.”

After that, silence engulfs you both as you try to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come to you as quickly as it did hours before. Thinking too much about these past few days. About Joel and how safe he’s made you feel. And how he didn’t leave you to go to that other place Abe had mentioned. You never would have thought you would have partnered up with just one man for as long as you have been with him. You’ve been with groups with men before, you’ve been alone and you even stayed at settlements or bad attempts at QZs. But never a one on one partner like this.

“Thank you by the way.” You say out loud without much context for him to understand. You hear Joel turn his head towards you but you don’t look at him. Your eyes straight as you squint to watch the trees move slightly against the cold wind.

“You don’t have to thank me for that darlin’, I told you already it wouldn’t have been right-” Joel starts to explain to you seriously. The endearing name hits your heart, making you turn your head the second he says it. But you don’t speak on it as Joel pleading eyes tell you not to. You assume it as an accident and try not to make anything out of it. Thinking it’s that southern hospitality subconsciously creeping back out of him.

“No, not that.” You slide the sleeping back from your lap up to your chest to keep yourself as warm as possible against the cold to distract yourself. You take a breath,

“Thank you for letting Abe know I was there, that I was with you. With how shit this world is now, it's still very surprising to not get tricked or left behind.” you exhale out with a humorless laugh.

You sneak a look at Joel to see if he smiles even a centimeter at your terrible attempt at a joke but he stares at you with an intensity that you’ve only seen twice. The first time when Joel rescued you from your near death experience and the second when he was on the radio with Abe. It causes you to freeze in your seat and not dare try to move your eyes away from his. “I’m not gonna leave you.” he tells you.

Those five words, so simple yet mean so much. How serious it sounds when he says it to you. His eyes almost daring you to say something otherwise, and you’re almost tempted to. And it’s as if a weight is lifted off your shoulders and your chest, you sink a bit into your seat. You nod your head softly to him in understanding before turning your head to your window.

A small smile grows on your lips as you see small white flakes fall from the sky.

“It’s snowing.” you say quietly. Joel doesn’t say anything to you, but you don’t mind. Feeling comfortable in the silence as you watch the snowflakes fall down. And slowly but surely, your eyes drift close and you fall asleep.

———————

Taglist: @hoemadegrace @ninjarose23 @mandeepandee1997 @sheepdogchick3

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da-shrimping-station · 8 months

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Obey Me MC

So this is my MC Aren

They're fiercely independent, having to raise themself in a not so child-friendly environment. They're the type to try and find a solution on their own before even thinking about asking for help. Can be blunt as all hell, sometimes blurting things out before thinking. A decent cook out of necessity.

Takes things in stride and processes it later when it's calm enough to think and look back on the events that happened. Honestly they just shut their brain off and force themself to be logical but once the emotions take over, they have a hard time calming down.

Back in high school, they were somewhat of a delinquent. More like a lone wolf type than anything. They've had their fair share of climbing the perimeter wall to skip class and getting involved in fistfights. They keep to themself but the other students think they're an easy target because of that. They are not. This caused them to be an occasional target for thugs who'd like to "put them in their place". They developed a habit of carrying a pocket knife because of this.

They aren't fazed about magic. The place they grew up in had a prominent culture about folk healing and witches and superstition. They lived with a witch for quite some time after running away from home (they loved her very much and was devastated when she passed).

They have a healthy amount of curiosity, often asking questions to satisfy it. This results in them reading a lot but only for topics they have interest in. Mainly magic. Which is how they and Solomon get along well. Aren loves to ask questions and Solomon is happy to oblige (and flex his knowledge and experience). They were over the moon when Solomon took them in as an apprentice. Satan also enjoys their company and both can be seen reading together in the library.

Could not, for the life of them, get how the brothers manage to survive this long given how chaotic they are. Heck, they wonder how the house is still standing. Seeing the monthly finance reports make them blanch. But they've grown fond of the brothers (yes, even Lucifer). Belphegor, however, is on the top of their shit list and would take A LOT of time for them to tolerate each other without jumping at each other's throats.

Some rapid fire facts about them

is nonbinary

22 years old and 5ft (poor tiny thing, feel free to take their knees out)

vindictive as hell

likes giving headpats cuz they suck at words (especially when they need to comfort someone) and is quite physical with their affection

is more proficient in sigil magic than speechcraft (magic squiggles go brr)

loves to fly (practiced flying nearly everyday, with supervision of course)

exercises regularly, either with Beel, Mammon, or Asmo (or the 4 of them work out together)

enjoys swimming and likes to be in the ocean but needs supervision

has pacts with demons aside from the brothers (hopefully i can finish writing the fic soon oof)

I suppose that's all for now! Please feel free to ask about them (my inbox(?) is open)! Or do some of those ask games or smth.

Once I'm done drawing my demon OCs (who they have pacts with, and some of whom interact with the brothers and Diavolo on a regular basis (tho it's more work-related)) I'll post about them next.

#shrimpy rambling #shrimpy art #my art #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me original character #🦐:art #🦐:Aren #🦐:oc

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starkeyletters · 1 year

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•̩̩͙⁺𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡

Navigation | Masterlist link | Series masterlist

Warnings - 18+, Mature theme, Drug & substance use, indications to smut (hookups), etc.

Wordcount - 2,2k+

Pairing - 𝑅𝐴𝐹𝐸 𝐶𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑅𝑂𝑁 x 𝙁𝙀𝙈 𝙊𝘾 [Reader]

Summary - Fic based off of the song below, 'Too High'. The fic itself, to summarize it, is Rafe taking realization in to learning his true feelings. Knowing he wants more than just stupid hookups. But the question is, does she feel the same?

A/n - My first fic based off a song. Works like these will never be more than one part but they will be often posted. I recently found a liking for this beautiful song and it gave me so many ideas for it and it just made me feel like it would be a situation that would involve Rafe Cameron with a girl this way. Hope you guys enjoy this one (:

Tell me if you're alright

Did I get ya too high?

Sleeping over two nights

In a row, I can't let you go

Tonight you might fall in love

Ahh, yeah

It was late, very late. Lately, it was moments like this for Rafe that caused the realization to set in. The realization that he was falling in love. With you. He didn't want to, Loving anyone scared the shit out of him. He was never loved right, so how was he supposed to love someone without failing? He wondered that every single day, And the moment he began caring about you being more than just a hookup, He knew.

Rafe’s POV:

It was late, 2:00am. I pushed back against the hardwood of my bed’s headframe, staring down at her next to me, tangled in my white and blue bedding. She was gorgeous - doll like. It wasn't the first time we have done this, it has been quite occasional for the past month. Every time my parents leave I invite her over, get high, hookup, then she leaves. Lately that hasn't been happening the way we planned.

My hand ran through her soft silky hair, my fingers merely touching the exposed skin on her back. She lied on her stomach, sleeping so peacefully. She looked so effortlessly beautiful while she was in any state of comfort. I wondered to myself if she was alright, i wish she was awake to tell me how she was feeling. We had a long hookup, after which we smoked weed and did some coke. Sometimes I wonder if I got her too high, thankfully the effects will wear off not too long from now.

Tonight was the second night in a row we did this, my parents were out on a business trip. Usually we never made it through one night, let alone two. And quite honestly, now i don't want her to leave. I don't want this to be over.

I couldn't understand the way i felt, or the way she acted towards me. Was it actually love? Or was it just tension, even lust? I wish i could know if what i was feeling was love, but its hard to know what something is if you never experienced it. Yet, she treated me in a way no one ever had. She showed me genuine care. You could tell by the look on her face when I asked her to stay for the night a second time its hat she wanted, and exactly what answered my question was the look in her eyes. They lit up, I could've sworn her pupils were hearts.

Maybe im just high, but i think im falling in love.

“Hm?” You mumbled into the pillow your head was on, Rafe waking you up from your sleep. He looked just as restless and out of it as you did. But you couldn't assume it was anything other than the effects of the substances the two of you used only a few hours before the time now. “I know i sound crazy for saying this,” he stopped, you looked up at him and laughed as he sat against his headboard, shirtless, his hair a mess, all over his face as he looked off into the distance of some spot n his room. Fidgeting with his hands on his lap.

“But- But i want to have more than just hookups with you- a-and sesh’s. I enjoy being with you- and i think i might be in lov-” You rent in the right mindset, you weren't yourself. You were higher than he was at that moment, so that's why you cut him off saying what you did.

“Rafael Cameron. Were high.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tell me, are you too high? (Are ya?)

'Cause I'm feelin' just fine (yeah)

Truth is, Rafe wasn't nearly as high as you were. He barely took anything that night. If anything, One could say he doesn't have enough in his system for it to even show up on a drug test. His eyes weren't even red. And if he was high, it wore off. Because he did not feel high, that's for sure.

You on the other hand, Your eyes were bloodshot red, eyelids once you were woken were half closed, and you were completely out of it. You were definitely too high, you and Rafe both knew it.

You were too high.

Rafe was feeling just fine.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And I just wanna kiss you (I do)

I love ridin' through the city with you

Hear you talk about your silly issues, oh

You drive me wild, oh—oh

Take back to one night, 2 weeks prior to the current situation, the two of you took a ride in his truck, a late night drive. Throughout the town, even the city. It was a gorgeous night. With the music blasting and the way you sang along with it, Rafe couldn't imagine a more beautiful version of you. It was a night to remember, neither of you were on anything. Which really made it better. He loved going for drives with you, really he loved doing anything if it involved being with you.

He just wanted to kiss you, he craved it, he never kissed you when the two of you hooked up. It was a forbidden rule on the list of rules you made up when the two of you started doing so. The way your lips looked that night especially, the way they sung along to the music playing, the way you glossed them, it was everything for rafe. He always wanted to kiss you, he wanted to know what the feeling of your lips on his would feel like.

He loved drives with you, They would last for hours, and hours, until either you or him got tired. You would always have at least one rant session to him every single time you would go for a drive. ANd he never once minded the fact that you did so.

Most of the issues were silly, he would always get an entertaining time out of listening to you speak on them. He loved the fact that you not only opened up to him about such and such, but the fact that you were the person who came to him and trusted him enough to say what you were feeling and about problems you had. No matter how serious, or silly they were.

You drive him wild.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And babe, I wanna smoke and

Fall asleep on your floor

We won't make it to your bed, no

We won't make it to your bed

Take back to the one time,and only time, Your parents were out of town and you invited rafe over to just have a quick session. To smoke, Not hookup. And that's exactly what happened.

Rafe was uncontrollably laughing, falling onto your bedroom floor as the two of you got into your room from being outside. You were just as bad, stumbling on top of him, neither of you even thinking to get up.

“And- The time you-” Rafe said in between laughs, “You- slipped and-” He couldnt even finish his sentence. The two of you were always like this when high.

The floor was where the two of you bunked for the night, not being able to make it to your bed, Well - most of the night for you, you woke up halfway throughout the night, Moving up into your bed.. The feeling of discomfort from lying on a hard surface with nothing beneath you except rafes arm under your sore neck, would have made your body ache for days to come. You didnt bother waking Rafe, Infact he looked super peaceful. God knows how he did it since the next morning he felt fine. No pain.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your dad would kill me if he knew what we were doin' babe

And if he finds us, I swear I won't have a clue what to say

Ayee, so

Oh, how your father would kill him if he ever found out the things that happened - or still even go on between you and Rafe.

In fact, your parents, especially your father, were extremely protective over you. There wasn't a day that went by that you could remember that they hadn't warned you about Rafe Cameron, they always told you that you were to stay away from him. And oh how much trouble you'd be in, especially if he found out Rafe cameron spent the night in his home.

Neither of you never put a plan in place for if you were to get caught, and Rafe always worries when there's days spent together that are in public, or if someone was to ever snitch.

He really wouldn't have a clue what to say.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tell me if you're alright

Did I get ya too high?

The one time you went home after the two of you got high, and mid- hookup you bailed. He didn't hear from you for days, he was so worried. He knew he should've never let you go home in the state you had been in. You were sobbing before you left his house. He would text you constantly for those few days, only for you to ignore him.

You just left, high, sobbing, you were a mess. He knew your parents were home and he worried you'd rat the two of you out. Since he was acting like a dick that night.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sleeping over two nights

In a row, I can't let you go

Tonight you might fall in love

Ahh, yeah

*Reference to first paragraph of the fic.

Turns out, you never told anyone,and your parents didn't even notice the way you were once you got home. You just felt like shit. That was the night you realized you were in love with Rafe. And that's why you left, or bailed on him as he called it.

You spent the next two nights after that with him, for the first time. You didn't want to leave his presence and you didnt want to let him go.

You wondered if he felt the same, and when he was about to say the three words, you were too high, telling him that too - You regretted that as soon as the drugs wore off. He was falling in love with you, and you were too. But you ruined it. You told him that the two of you were: “Rafe Cameron. Were high.”

You regretted it ever since.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I got you, baby, I can't lose you now

Swear to God that I won't fuck around (no)

You're my favorite one I ever found

Yeah, I treat you like you got a crown (I do)

After that night, It's like the two of you got closer to each other without making a plan to do so. He knew after that night that the feelings being shared were mutual. He knew you loved him too. You just couldn't say it.

All he saw was regret on your face anytime he would talk about what happened, anytime he would talk about his feelings as hints for you to take since after that he was too scared to straight up tell you he was falling in love with you.

He knew he got you, and he knew he couldn't let himself lose you.

He swore to you that he would never, ever, fuck around.

He told you that you were his favorite one he ever found, Because you were. There was something about you that anyone else Rafe knew didn't have. You were his soulmate, that's for god damn sure.

Rafe, even though you aren't together (yet) Treats you like a literal queen. He never ever disrespect nor hurts you. Take back to the one time, yet it happened multiple times, Rafe had to carry you because your feet hurt in your heels, up stairwells, down hills, up hills, etc. plus he'd carry your heels.

You were his princess.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Promise that you'd never lie and (no)

Baby, never leave me crying

The two of you, when you first started to hookup. Made a promise to never ever lie about if the other was catching feelings. Yet that didn't work out for either of you. You both did, and you both lied. To each other.

Which not only left you crying, but also Rafe.

After that night, neither of you ever lied to one and other ever again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yeah, you're the only one I want, alright

You were indeed the only one Rafe wanted. Ever since he met you he never had one thought about someone else. He tried proving it to you. You were all he wanted. Everything he needed. He never wanted to picture you with someone else.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tell me if you care about me

The way that I care for ya

I just need to see

Rafe wanted you to say it. Say you cared for him the way he cared for you that night. The thing is, you didn't. You showed him instead.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Did I get ya too high?

Rafe did indeed get you too high. Not on drugs, but on love.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Taglist - @joselyn001

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5.20.23

@ starkeyletters 2023

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