#this was made for class on very low fuel and very few thoughts and late at night and exhausted

[druid-for-hire]

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury

[taizi]

run, boy, run

chapter four

natsume yuujinchou pairing: one-sided kitanishi word count: 3k summary: Nishimura has a cursed mark on his arm, a crush on Natsume’s famous idol friend, and a whole lot of brand new problems that start and end with the taboo circle on his arm. full circle au

read on ao3

x

Satoru’s first clue that something is off is the black town car with dark-tinted windows parked a few blocks down from his house.

Most of his neighbors don’t have cars, and the ones who do have little boxy, fuel-efficient numbers that live under tarps in driveways until it’s time for the bi-monthly grocery haul.

The unfamiliar vehicle makes his lizard brain stir uneasily, but Satoru has been having a hard time lately distinguishing between things he should actually be worried about and things the curse is twisting all out of proportion.

Since no one else on the street is outwardly panicking, he takes that as his cue to keep walking.  

Satoru’s second clue is what gives him real pause. Fish, perched on his shoulder, is making a noise he’s never heard from her before. It’s a subvocal thing, low and rumbling, and her beady eyes are fixed without wavering on the car.

Or something near the car.

Automatically, his hand drifts toward his pocket, and the cellphone there that’s practically bursting with the names of people who made him swear to reach out to them if he was in trouble.

Kiyoshi was still home when I left, Satoru thinks. I could just turn around.

But mom was still home, too, and if he walked back through the front door at the same time he should have been walking into homeroom, she would blow a fuse.

The thought of her tirade causes his arm to twinge sharply, and he drops his hand away from his pocket. Be normal, he scolds himself. You promised Kitamoto you’d be normal. Normal people don’t worry about random cars.

Since he first discovered Taki’s circle, Satoru has seen dozens of yokai around town, big and small, mostly minding their own business. And their own business had very little to do with Satoru unless he stuck his nose in it. If there’s a spirit over there on the other end of the street, one that’s causing Fish to bait her wings and grumble, then there’s a good chance it doesn’t have anything to do with Satoru anyway.

At the very least, he’s certain that it isn’t the monster that cursed him. He and Fish have an agreed-upon signal for that, which is essentially just Fish screeching like a klaxon until help shows up.

Still, Satoru pivots on his heel and cuts down a side-street. He’ll take the long way to school today. He doesn’t want to go near that car.

“We keep meeting in alleys,” an unfortunately familiar voice says cheerfully, just before a hand lands on his shoulder.

Fish takes off in a flurry of feathers, a distant speck in the sky before anyone could even think about catching her. The first thing Satoru feels is relief that she’s gone. Right on the heels of relief comes a cool wash of dread, and a dull, steady ache in his arm. He turns, already knowing who he’ll find behind him.

As easily as if they’re old friends, Matoba Seiji smiles.

#

At school, Nishimura’s friends are lingering by the entrance, getting more and more restless with every second. When the bell rings, and they should all be in class, detention is the last thing on their minds.

Over the last week, one or more of them has always been there to walk with Nishimura before and after school, but he insisted and they agreed to let the constant guard taper off a bit.

He’s been doing a lot better since their war council with Natori, but the curse is still active and present in his mind, and they can see it when it goes to work on him. When Nishimura starts to think his friends don’t trust him to do something as simple as make it to school on his own, and his arm blooms with vivid, obscene color, the only thing they can do is assure him. Tell him of course that isn’t true, they do trust him, and if he thinks he doesn’t need an entourage, then they’ll be willing to back off a bit and give it a try. Anything that might give him a foothold to wrestle control of his mind back.

But he was supposed to be here nearly ten minutes ago, even accounting for the way he constantly gets distracted by cute dogs and weird bugs and talkative neighbors. Tsuji, who lives a few houses down from Nishimura, once famously dragged him into homeroom by the elbow and announced, “I bumped into him in the combini this morning, holding the bento he bought for lunch in his hands, and he told me he forgot about school until he saw my uniform.” It was hilarious at the time.

“Sensei left early to make sure he got here,” Natsume says tersely. “Something’s wrong.”

“I’m calling Kiyoshi-niisan,” Kitamoto says, phone already pressed to his ear.  

Taki, who has been pacing in restless circles since Nishimura didn’t show up on time, says, “He can’t see. He doesn’t have the circle anymore. What if—”

“Don’t,” Tanuma says, not unkindly, but more like he can’t bear to listen to her bolt down that frightening rabbit hole. “I’m sure he’s okay. Fish would have told us if he wasn’t.”

At about that moment, in an example of the most absurdly perfect timing any bird has ever had, an agitated magpie flutters down onto the closed gate and raises the alarm.

#

Sitting in the backseat of the town car, his arms folded tightly across his front to hide the way his hands are trembling, the unconscious Nyanko-sensei a heavy, boneless weight in his lap, Satoru says, as firmly as he can manage, “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” Matoba replies easily. “Your little pet is proof of that.”

Even more glad now that Fish seized the opportunity to bolt at the first sign of trouble, Satoru insists, “She’s just a bird. There’s a ton of birds just like her around here. Natsume’s mom has crows in her garden.”

He doesn’t know how long he’ll get away with playing dumb—when Nyanko-sensei scared Matoba off that night after the visit with Natori, the lucky cat spoke in front of them both. There’s no way this guy forgot about that. But Satoru has no idea what is safe to discuss with this boogeyman Natsume was so careful to warn him about, so he defaults to bald-faced denial.  

Something darts across Matoba’s face that looks like curiosity when Satoru mentions Touko, there and gone again in a split-second.

“This conversation would go a lot smoother if you’d do me the courtesy of honesty,” is what Matoba says, as if he’s been the epitome of good manners this entire time.  

The half of Satoru’s brain that isn’t spinning in anxious circles puffs up in indignation.  

“Courtesy? You’re the one who abducted me on my way to school!”

Rather than offense, Matoba seems to take delight in his attitude. He’s weirdly likable, for all that he’s also very dangerous and powerful, if Natsume and Nyanko-sensei are to be believed. It creates a sense of conflict in Satoru’s head, because part of him wants to sit here and argue with the friendly, conversational man, while another, much larger part wants to run far, far away.

That larger part wins, because Satoru is literally in the backseat of a strange car, alone, with his phone sitting out of reach on the dashboard up front.

He wonders, for a brief, hysterical moment, if anyone is missing him yet.  

“I can see why you and Natsume are friends,” Matoba says, as if he’s a proud relative and Natsume is a charming, if ornery, little cousin. “And I can see that you know more than you are willing to share with me. Is that loyalty, I wonder? Or ignorance?” He leans in, his long hair falling over his shoulder, and says, “Are you being kept in the dark?”

Satoru presses his arms tighter against his middle, trying to think past the hurthurthurt that pulses through the curse mark. He’s glad he wore long sleeves today.

He’s beginning to see shadows again, even here in the well-lit interior of the car. It’s a fog that creeps into his head, past reason and logic and common sense. Sometimes Satoru can feel it starting to happen, his mind turning against him as dark sympathetic magic makes him doubt, but there’s nothing he can do when that happens except cling to what he knows and hope it’s enough.  

He remembers, against better judgement, being made to wash the seeing circle away. Natori’s face frowning at him from across the table, even though he got what he wanted.

Was he being kept in the dark?

No, Satoru thinks. It was for his own good. His friends were worried.

Were they? Then where are they? If they’re so worried about him, why aren’t they here?

They don’t know where I am, Satoru thinks wildly. No one knows where I am.

He doesn’t know where he is, either. They’ve been driving for what feels like a long time, and the windows are too dark to see through unless he presses his face against the glass and he won’t do that while Matoba is watching him. Nyanko-sensei, Natsume’s unofficial shiki and glorified babysitter, is sprawled across Satoru’s knees in an unnatural sleep and dead to the world.

He’s on his own.

“I’m sure you must have heard stories about me,” the man says, almost gently. He’s still smiling. “But really, I’m not so bad. I just want to have a talk, and then I’ll drop you off wherever you want.”

Rattled, Satoru dares to glance sidelong at him. Matoba’s smile widens.

“All you have to do is tell me the truth,” he goes on. “Just level with me. Are your eyes the same as mine? Do you see the same strange world that I do? Is that why you and Natsume are such good friends, hm? A common perspective? It would explain a lot.”

Something about that remark wriggles past everything else, a slippery eel darting through muddy water. It’s the first clear-headed thought Satoru manages to grasp.

“What’s that mean?” he asks. “What does it have to do with us being friends?”

“Well, historically, Natsume doesn’t have the best track record, does he?” Matoba’s voice is rich with laughter. It isn’t mean-spirited, but it rubs Satoru wrong anyway. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Satoru blurts. The pain in his arm recedes and the shadows peel away—he’s still afraid, but it’s the normal sort of fear now. It’s not the influence of a monster, leaning on him until he can’t see or think or hear straight. And it’s eclipsed, easily, by irritation. “He’s my friend because he’s funny and sarcastic and nice to everybody and a sore loser at trivia games. I like him. Our whole class likes him. It has nothing to do with whatever you’re talking about.”

That curiosity flicks across Matoba’s expression again, like something Satoru told him is brand-new information, completely unheard of.

It doesn’t do anything to curb his knowing smile which, in Satoru’s opinion, has become less likable and more punchable with every second Matoba talks about Natsume like he actually knows anything about him.

“And even if he did see your strange world, or whatever, what does that have to do with me? And what are you accomplishing by kidnapping me?”

“I would hardly call it kidnapping—”

“There are so many other things he has to worry about without worrying about you,” Satoru goes on, warming up to the subject. “You just show up and make his life difficult and threaten him and drag him into dangerous situations like he doesn’t endanger himself enough as it is! Yeah, he told me stories about you, because you scare him.”

For the first time, Matoba seems genuinely thrown-off.

“No I don’t,” the man says. “He’s well aware that there are better things to be afraid of.”

Satoru knows that much, too. Being cursed by a yokai on the edge of the woods was equally as scary as being forced into a car by a stranger. Maybe those two situations were entirely different, but the way Satoru’s heart thundered in his chest, the way he wondered for a brutally honest split-second if he’d ever see his brother or his friends again, was exactly the same.

“That's the point,” Satoru says belligerently, aware that he’s digging his own grave, “Natsume knows a monster when he sees one.”

Matoba studies him with keen eyes. His smirk is a quiet, thoughtful thing now.

“One last question,” he says. Lifting a pale, elegant hand, he points to the other side of the partition, at the burly figure in the driver’s seat. “What do you think of that guy?”

Burying anxious fingers in Nyanko-sensei’s thick fur, Satoru darts a glance that way, trying to find the trap in Matoba’s words. The driver, for his part, doesn’t turn to look back or acknowledge Matoba in any way.

“I don’t know,” Satoru says defensively. “He hasn’t said anything this whole time.”

Matoba’s smile widens, as pleased as a cat with a canary.

“That’s fair,” he replies, and gestures with his hand. The driver catches the signal somehow and twirls the steering wheel, pulling the car around in a neat U-turn. “A deal’s a deal. Where am I taking you?”

Home, Satoru wants to say, except mom will be there, and she’ll be angry if he shows up when he’s not supposed to. Kitamoto, is his very next thought, filled with wanting, so he says, “School. Even though I’ll definitely have detention thanks to you.”

“Studious,” Matoba says with a laugh. “I admire that.”

Rubbing one of Nyanko-sensei’s velvety ears between his fingers, Satoru asks, “When will sensei wake up?”

“I’d give it another hour,” Matoba replies, his tone reassuring. “He’s a little too eager with his teeth when it’s just the two of us, so I figured it was best to be extra cautious.”

Secretly, Satoru wishes Nyanko-sensei had managed to get one good bite in. Then maybe Matoba would have slightly less to be smug about.

Something strikes the windshield, and Satoru flinches in surprise. The car continues gliding smoothly forward, but another tiny projectile joins the first, and then another after that. Satoru stares as all the windows on the car are plastered with scraps of paper until the vehicle is entirely covered.

The interior is dim now, cave-like, and Satoru clutches Nyanko-sensei closer.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Matoba says, making another gesture. The car slows and comes to a stop. He sounds unbothered, unlocking the doors with the button panel by his arm. “They’re here for you.”

When the door lock springs up, Satoru grapples for the handle and wrenches it open before Matoba can change his mind. He all but topples out of the car, Natsume’s cat clutched in the crook of one arm.

By the time he’s managed to find his feet, large hands are on his shoulders, guiding him upright. He jerks back reflexively, whipping his head around, but it’s not another stranger. It’s Natori, and the breath goes out of Satoru’s lungs in a rush of relief. He doesn’t even question how the man is standing here in front of him, the last place on earth a famous actor should be.

“Easy,” the man says, studying Satoru’s face carefully. “Are you hurt?”

Satoru shakes his head. For all that he was running his mouth a moment ago, he’s got nothing to say now. He lets himself be pushed behind Natori’s back as Natori makes himself a wall between Satoru and Matoba.

“There is such a thing,” Natori grits out, glaring murder at his shadowy counterpart, “as going too far.”

“You’re always one step ahead of me, Shuuichi-kun,” Matoba replies genially. “It seems like every remarkable child I manage to find has already been snatched up by the Natori clan.”

“This child has a family willing to press charges,” Natori bites back. “If you don’t think his aunt would take you to court and drag your name through dirt until she won, that’s only because you haven’t met her yet.”

Kitamoto’s mom, Satoru’s Auntie Mikako, is a force of nature. If she got wind of this, it’s over for Matoba already.

But he remembers Natsume’s warnings, how he talked about Matoba’s connections and his powerful family, and he doesn’t want the Kitamotos anywhere near him.

“Natori-dono,” someone behind Satoru says.  

Jerking his head, as if shaking off a collar someone tried to put around his neck, Natori says, “This is far from over. But for now, get lost.”

“It’s always such a pleasure,” Matoba laughs, and leans out the door Satoru left hanging ajar to pass Satoru’s phone to Natori. After snapping the door shut smartly, he rolls down the window, because of course he has something else to say. Satoru tenses when Matoba looks at him, and Natori makes a furious sound, but the strange man only adds in parting, “Natsume is lucky to have a friend like you. I hope he keeps you close.”

From anyone else, it might have been a threat. From Matoba, it sounds genuine. For the life of him, Satoru can’t get a bead on this guy at all.

When the car pulls away, Natori says, “Follow. Make sure he leaves,” which Satoru assumes is a command to his shiki. He’s too busy staring down at the lucky cat in his arms and keeping his breathing steady to worry overmuch about what’s going on around him now.

That is, until Natori touches his chin, a gentle instruction to lift his head. The man looks angry and exhausted and worried, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he demands.

“I’m sure,” Satoru replies. “All he did was talk to me. He asked me questions about Natsume and the guy driving the car and then said he’d drop me off at school. He’s really weird.”

Natori’s face does something strange. “There wasn’t a guy driving the car.”

Satoru frowns at him, pushed well past his personal threshold of stuff he’s willing to put up with. He’s over today. He’s going to have to deal with an unexplained absence from school and his mom’s temper when she finds out, but that sounds like tomorrow’s problem. All he wants right now is his bird and his best friend and a stack of comfort movies and sugary snacks, and maybe his brother, too. He doesn’t think that’s too much to ask for.

“It’s not like it was driving itself,” he mutters.

“No,” Natori says slowly. “You misunderstood me. There wasn’t a human driving the car.”

Satoru blinks at him. As he watches, a little black tattoo crawls up the side of Natori’s face, coming to rest on his forehead.

“Oh,” he says dumbly.

Belatedly, he looks over his shoulder, and finds Hiiragi lingering behind him, where she’s probably been this whole time. She’s a little hazy around the edges, like he needs to squint to see her properly, but she’s there.

“You’re not wearing the circle?” Natori asks in a quiet voice. He sounds like he already knows the answer.

Satoru shakes his head, wide-eyed.

“Guess my eyes adjusted,” he whispers.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

hello! this isn't really a remadora question, but do you have any headcanons about andromeda and ted (from the moment they met to the moment ted died and maybe even after that)?

OH HOT DAMN. I AM SO EXCITED SOMEONE ASKED THIS!!!!

So I am in the process of planning and outlining my Andromeda fic. I've tentatively titled "Andromeda's Sacrifices," and I want to begin posting it in the late fall/early winter. It's going to be canon-compliant, beginning with her 11th birthday and ending in 1981, when the first war is over.

Let me tell you some ideas I have - headcanons, basically - that are going to make it into the fic. I have a list of Black sisters headcanons that tie into this.

Andromeda is a blood purist from the start. She refuses to even talk to Ted because he's Muggleborn.

The first time Andromeda questions blood purity is when Ted consistently does better than she does in potions. Ted gets an invite to the Slug Club - Andromeda doesn't.

Andromeda goes through a lot of ups and downs as a middle child. She's constantly trying to be noticed. When she's made a prefect, Bellatrix is made Head Girl, so the accomplishment is overshadowed.

Ted, as an only child, has a very different experience. His parents are loving, affectionate, and so proud of him. They're from a thoroughly middle class family.

However, Andromeda and Ted are made prefects at the same time and it's the first time she's forced to interact with him.

She's been low-key fancying him for a little while by then, because in my head, he's actually a Ravenclaw, not a Hufflepuff.* As a Ravenclaw, he always does super well in classes, and it's both irritating to her because she's a blood purist, but also admirable, because he's talented.

It doesn't hurt that as Ted grows up, he loses some of his baby fat and gets pretty handsome, and Andromeda fights with herself a LOT on finding him attractive.

Ted, meanwhile, has always found Andromeda to be very pretty, but haughty and proud. He's intimidated by her and has been warned against interacting with her over blood status.

I have Ted and Andromeda bond over a potions incident in which she accidentally hurts him (she's mad at him for something, you'll see in the fic if you read it). But they patch things up and become better friends.

They start dating at the end of their fifth year, in secret. It's not an easy relationship because of Andromeda's family.

Ted doesn't like the dating in secret business. He worries for Andromeda, but is hurt that she's too embarrassed/ashamed of him that she won't be public about their relationship.

Andromeda runs away with Ted a few months after they finish their schooling. It's partly fueled by Andromeda just being done with her family. She realizes she's never going to make them proud of her, because she's always going to be overshadowed by her sisters.

Andromeda and Ted elope. They get pregnant right away and nine months later, Nymphadora is born :)

Andromeda and Ted's relationship to me is a lot like what it would be if a rich girl married a poor boy. She's got a LOT of culture shock when she spends time with Ted's family. She's confused and awkward around all the Muggle contraptions and Muggle culture. She goes through a lot of growing pains in being separated from the culture she grew up in and the culture she's thrust into.

Life is pretty stable after the end of the first war - things don't start getting interesting until Tonks grows up and falls in love with a werewolf, so that's why I'm stopping my fic in 1981. However, I may write a postwar thing. IDK. Haven't thought that far in advance.

As for after Ted dies, she's devastated. Andromeda's one true love was Ted. That was her husband, best friend, love of her life, father of her only child...she loved him so much. It's a huge loss.

I don't have many HCs after Ted dies, just because they're so wrapped in what happens after the war. Andromeda, I think, goes into survival mode after the war because of all the death and loss her family has. Teddy, her grandson, is the only light at the end of the tunnel.

*I know popular opinion is him as a Hufflepuff, but I like Ravenclaw for him better. Ask me about it if you like!

[bowdownbucky]

𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 !

part 2 <3

summary: you have an encounter with your best friend’s brother bucky!

pairing: innocent! reader x college! bucky

warnings: cursing, asshole! steve rogers, kissing, drug use, oral (female receiving) fingering.

your heart began to beat heavily, bucky didn’t care that his sister was outside of the door but you started to feel guilty. this was so wrong of you and you didn’t even want to look at yourself. “you better answer her sweethear, she’s not gonna leave.” bucky taunts you, he hand trails your stomach, groping your breasts hard. “uh-im almost finished, i h-had to ohhh.” you slap you hand over your mouth, bucky smirks as he pinches you nipple again.

“what?” rebecca moved closer to the door. “are you okay? i’m coming in.” your eyes widens, you pushed bucky away and slowly cracked the door. “i’m f-fine, the um…pizza! the pizza went down the wrong hatch.” you lie. rebecca’s face screws up. “ew i did not need to know that y/n” you watch as she walks into her room. you close the door, leaning your head back onto the wooden frame.

you closed your eyes and hoped that this was all a dream, that you didn’t actually kiss your best friends brother. you slowly open your eyes only to meet a pair of blue eyes, bucky laughs at you. “went down the wrong hatch? seriously?” you cross your arms in front of your chest. “well what was i supposed to say, sorry can’t talk now i’m making out with your brother. she’s kill me!” you exclaim, you ran your hands down your face in an irrational manner. this was too much for you and bucky didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“would you chill out? here take a hit, it will make you feel better.” bucky offers the small bud once more, you smack it out of his hand. “do you always solve your problems with weed!” you hiss. his eyes were low, he watched as the joint flew onto the ground. you hitch your breath realizing what you did, you see his tongue rub his lower lip. you almost melt at the sight.

“your gonna regret the doll.” he seethes into your ear. he pushes you against the door, you let out a yelp but he covers your mouth. “i know a way you can make it up to me, and you are gonna make it up to me. you know why baby?” you shake your head. “because you don’t want to get on my bad side. i would hate to ruin that innocence of yours.” he whisperers, he hands managed to find their way to you ass, giving it a light squeeze before letting you go.

you move from the door and he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you could barely comprehend what happened let along what he meant by his bad side. you grabbed the nail polish remover and walk back to rebecca room. “finally! you took forever.” you mumble a small sorry and sat on her bed, she lends you her hand and you get to work on her nails, she chose a peach color and wanted you to add a french tip, such a classic.

as you continue painting her nails she squeals making you mess up the curved line. “becca! your nails!” you groan. “i don’t care! why didn’t you tell me?” you tilt your head confusingly. “you and steve hooked up and you didn’t tel me?!” you eyes go wide. “what! no! where did you get that from?” you ask her. she huffs. “no, no, no, no don’t try to act all innocent! you and chris did it and there is evidence on your neck. i rest my case.” you rush off the bed and check your neck, you internally face palm seeing dark purple marks all over your neck.

“i had no idea steve was like that. i guess i have to stop making fun of him now.” she chuckles. “just taking me home my ass! so how was it? was he big? why arent you giving me details.” rebecca whines, kicking her feet in her bed. you ignored her and attempted to kneed out the hickies. as you run the marks you notice bucky staring at you from his room door, you could practically feel his smirk as you watched his reflection go back to his room. you heart raced as you tried to come up with an excuse.

“it’s no big deal i just burnt myself with a straightener.” you curse to yourself knowing she wouldn’t fall for that. “fine don’t tell me! i’m going to sleep, all this secrecy has made me tired.” rebecca yawns, you hoped she wouldn’t ask you about the hickey again because lying was never your forte. you lie in the large bed, clouded in your own thoughts.

did he like you? was he just messing with you? you had so many assumptions of why he kissed you, what bothered you the most was that you had steve. steve was a jock and you were an outcast, you didn’t know how it would work. even though you and steve hadn’t officially said you were together, you still respected him and wanted to be faithful.

the next morning at school, you kept your head down and didn’t talk to anyone for the most part. no one really seems to notice because you were kind of a nobody. you sat in your forensics class, jotting down notes here and there. you stop writing when you feel a hand creep up your thigh. you turn your head toward steve, he kept a straight face and didn’t acknowledge how unamused you were.

“what are you doing?” you whisper. steve’s hand tries to travel up your skirt but you close your legs firmly. “steve!” he turns to you. “we’re in the middle of class.” you point out. “i’m sorry you know i can’t resist you baby. let me make it up to you but taking you out after homecoming.” you hault yourself as you almost roll your eyes at him. steve could be pushy sometimes especially when it came to losing your virginity to him. you hated that rebecca told him that, now he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“oh really.” you say pretending to be intrigued. “the guys and i bought hotel rooms for tonight and we get to bring a special girl along. and you know since your my favorite girl, i thought we could go together and have fun. go swimming, watch movies, kiss, cuddle, the whole nine and maybe some other stuff if you want.” you remove his hand from your thigh and continue writing notes. “i told you steve i’m not ready for that stuff yet.”

steve huffs, returning back to the lesson. your virginity wasn’t something that you kept sacred but you wanted you first time to be meaningful and steve hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet so your answer would always be no if he asked. when school ended you took the bus home, you quickly packed a bag full of makeup, hair supplies and your clothes for homecoming. you checked the time, almost cursing yourself seeing how you were going to be late to rebecca’s house.

you ran as fast as you could to the barnes’ house, you could practically feel the lecture rebecca was going to give you. luckily, you live a few blocks down from the barnes so it wouldn’t be too long of a walk/run. when you arrived at the barnes’ you quickly rang the doorbell. the door opens’ revealing a shirtless bucky who looked like he just got out of the shower. “can i help you?” he smirks looking down on you.

“becca t-told m-me to come, for homecoming.” you gulped attempting to maintain eye contact. his couldn’t help but peek at his glistened abs, you really hoped he didn’t catch on to you checking him out. before he could let out a snarky comment rebecca came gritting down the stairs with curlers in her hair. “there you are! y/n your late and we only have three hours to get ready.” you pushed pass bucky and ran up the stairs.

bucky watched at how nervous you were, it was like the fuel he ran on. rebecca closed her door and pushes you onto her vanity chair. “please tell me i have creative freedom tonight!” rebecca pleads with her big blue eyes staring at you. you sigh and nod. she kisses your forehead before beginning your makeup.

after a few hours of prodding, poking, blending, and brushing, rebecca finally finished your makeup and hair. normally you wouldn’t wear makeup because you didn’t know how to do it very well but when you did have it on you truly looked like a princess. “now carefully get into your dress y/n, i swear to god if you mess up an eyelash i will kill you.” she threatens you with her high pitched voice. you removed your jeans and shirt revealing your body, you quickly unzipped the dress as you start to compare your body to rebecca’s. becca was tall and slim while you were a little curvy. you had a small tummy with stretchmarks and she had a flat tummy with a slender waist. your best friend was beautiful and you didn’t want to see mom jealous, so you put up a front and delt with it.

you and rebecca were finally dressed, rebecca looked stunning in her white and pink dress. with the help of rebecca and mrs.barnes, you had pick a pale green dress, the curve of the dress fit you like a glove. the creases on the dress made you look more mature and sexier. you were never use to being sexy so the look on your face made rebecca freak out. “you totally hate it, i knew we should’ve gone with the black dress.” you shake your head. “n-no! it looks…great. thank you becks.” the door opens, your heart quickens when you meet a pair of bright eyes. you noticed bucky had put on a shirt, a part of you were bummed out. “would it kill you to knock! we’re girls who need privacy!” rebecca yells. bucky didn’t give his sister the time of day, his eyes were fixated on you. you felt self conscious as he stared at you long and hard. “mom and dad are going to a banquet dinner in manhattan. they won’t be back until tomorrow.” he tells rebecca. she crossed her arms in confusion. “what? no! i was supposed to have the car tonight. how the hell are we supposed to get to hoco?” rebecca flings her arms up dramatically.

bucky chuckles at his sister’s agony. “wait!” you spoke up as bucky was about to walk away. “c-can y-ou drive us?” you ask quietly. rebecca pulled your arm. “are you crazy? do you know what people say if we shows up to homecoming in a pickup truck?” rebecca vocalized. you couldn’t care less what people had to say, you just wanted and excuse to be see bucky. “becca this is important to you and even you said yourself we had to be there under any circumstances.”

rebecca whines. “fine but you’re dropping us off a block away. i need to retouch my hair, you’ve made me stress away the curls.” you watched as she pushes past bucky, leaving the two of you. you stare at him for a second then turn around, attempting to act uninterested. “you know you should skip this whole homecoming thing altogether.” bucky told you. “what! no, this is important to becca and i promised her i’d be there.” you felt his presence behind you, your back was pressed to his front. “come on doll, you never seemed like the type to be into this stuff anyway. i have a few places we could go instead. wouldn’t that be way more fun.” he was baiting you and hell, you were falling for it very hard. he pushed your hair to the side, laying a kiss on your shoulder. his hand cupped your waist, pulling you as close as you could get.

his pressed more kisses up your neck, he liked testing you, he would make you beg for it if you gave him the chance. “c’mom dollface, don’t you wanna have fun with me?” you almost gave him a nod but refrained. “i should go help rebecca, see you in a few james.” you walk away smiling to yourself, you won this round of the game but best believe, bucky was going to win the next level.

you sat in between bucky and rebecca once more, y’all were currently picking up nathan and steve, your dates for the evening. “you look beautiful beck.” nathan smiles at his girlfriend. rebecca left you in the front with bucky so she could kiss her boyfriend more. steve walks to the front car door but bucky locks him out. “hey man, open the door.” steve groans. the two had seem to have history and now you were going to be in between it. “you know the rules big guy, no douches in the front seat.” bucky smirks. “then why are you sitting up here asshole?” steve sarcastically jokes. rebecca huffed from the back, leaning in the front of the seat. “hey dickheads, we don’t have time for this, have your cat fight after hoco. let’s go!” she demands. steve huffs, taking a seat next to the couple who had no problem with pda.

the ride to the school was pretty silent except for the rock music playing from the radio. you stared out of the window, you could tell bucky was mad because of how tight he was holding the steering wheel, his knuckles were almost white from the tight grip. suddenly, his hand was on your thigh. your eyes widened, you quickly look back to make sure no one saw what was happening. “what are you doing?” you whisper. he doesn’t say anything to you, his hand stays on your thigh and his eyes stay on the road but you could still see the smirk on his face. you tried to push his his hand away but he only moves it higher, almost touching your core. you didn’t want to play games anymore, you were never built for them, you open your legs up more, instead of doing what you wanted, he removed his hand. “alright guys, have a good night.” rebecca and nathan were the first ones to leave the truck. steve exits the truck and stands by youre window. “you coming?” you nod to him. “i’ll be out in a second.” steve walks away from the window, bucky bursts out into laughter.

you throw a punch at his arm but he doesn’t flinch at you. “thats not funny! you’re so mean.” you pout. “no what’s funny is you actually going out with steve.” you eye him in confusion. steve was a good guy, he could be a little pushy but that was just high school boys. “he’s nice and he asked me to go with him. i really don’t see what’s funny bucky.”

“you think just because the guy asked you to a dance, he suddenly changes his player ways. i think you forgot i use to be one of those guys. guys like that don’t fal for girls like you” he pauses. “all he wants is to get you under him and then he’s gonna hop to the next willing participant. god you’re so naive.” you crossed your arms. “you’re such a jerk james! at least he has the decency to not play with my feelings! you’re sister was right! you’re nothing but a-an…asshole.” you yell, leaving the truck with a slam of the door. you surprised yourself at how you went off on him, what did he know about steve. you knew being involved with bucky was bad but now you officially got your sign to stay away from him.

you walked into the school looking for steve. you pushed pass people grinding and dancing on each other. when you find steve you see he’s not alone, he was dancing with lila miller. the two were close together, you turn you back in disgust once you catch the two of them share a very tongue-filled kiss. you sit at the table in annoyance. of course bucky would be right about steve, you hated the fact that he was right.

it took an hour and a half for steve to find you sitting at the table, watching everyone have fun. “hey y/n sorry i was waiting for you but then the guys wanted to go take some shots in the bathroom.” steve leans over to kiss your lips but you dodge him. he looks at you with a confused face. “come on let’s go dance.” he offers you his hand, you play with the fork that was covered in strawberry cake. “i’m good, maybe you should go dance with lila instead.” you say. steve sits back down in the chair, he cleared his throat. “you saw that? i didn’t think you’d be mad, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”

you roll your eyes, pushing your plate away from you. you get up and begin walking to the double doors. as you enters the hallways you ignore steve calling your name. “y/n! can you just wait a minute!” he yells, pulling your arm back causing you to hault. “it was just a dance, i was being nice. you can’t just get mad at me like that, i asked you to be my girlfriend more than once and you said no.”

“because all you want from me is sex which is not ready to give to you. you don’t think i hear about you hooking up with girls in the gym closet. i don’t want to be the next dumb girl who becomes a play thing for you.” you snap on him. “oh come on, sex is just sex, why do you make such a bug deal over this?” he groans.

“it’s not just sex steve, i want it to be meaningful and memorable. i’m sorry if i don’t want to hook up in a sleezy hotel.” you yell, your faces were extremely close. “and you think barnes is gonna make it special? god you’re so naive.” you furrow your brows, what did bucky have to do with this situation. “he has nothing to do with this steve! you asked me to come to this dance with you only for you to dance with another girl and make me look dumb sitting there waiting for you. you can’t take your hotel invite and shove it up your ass.” you walk away from steve, this time he didn’t bother calling your name. after he heard you curse at him he knew you guys were not going to work this out

you sit on the stairs of the school, tears slowly slid from your eyes. you felt so stupid and used, you knew steve was right but it still hurt. you two weren’t together and if he wanted to take another girl to the hotel he could because you weren’t together. you cringe at how bucky was right about steve, you wanted to be angry at him but he did warn you.

you decide to head home, walking alone the lonesome streets of brooklynn. you were wet due to the copious amount of rain fall, you shiver once more and continue to walk to your house. you noticed a familiar truck driving beside you. bucky rolls down his window. “get in.” he tells you. you continue walking, deciding to ignore the older boy. “come on doll it’s raining. a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone.” you couldn’t believe he as trying to flirt with you right now. you were hurt by his words and you were standing your ground, well that was until you heard a loud crack of lightning. you quickly rushed into the truck, slamming the door behind you.

before bucky could speak you began to talk. “just because i’m sitting in here with you, doesn’t mean i forgive you.” you seethed. bucky nods at you. “okay.” you angrily slap his arm. “okay? are you serious right now? how about a sorry for being a jerk!” you yell at him. bucky doesn’t acknowledge you, he starts looking for something in his truck. “god! boys are stupid! all you do is crave sex and hurt girls!” you rant, arms crossed over your chest. once you finished your rant you peek over at bucky holding two blunts. “wanna get high?”

you later found yourself in bucky’s room, high as a kite. you didn’t know what effect he had on you but you gave into his temptation. you sat on his bed, letting him shotgun smoke onto your mouth. “god you’re so hot.” bucky kisses your right shoulder. you softly hum in response, he trails his kisses to your exposed neck. you knew this was wrong on so many level but it felt so right.

“kiss me.” you whisper against him. the drugs in your system had your hormones at an all time high, you needed him to touch you. bucky locks his lips with yours, tongue roaming each other’s mouth in such a sensual way. bucky’s hand roams your body, cupping your breasts then your neck. you moan as he applies pressure to your throat.

he slides down you dress straps, with every kiss and touch you felt your dress being pulled lower and lower. bucky lifts you up on his lap, helping you out of the green champagne dress. you were fully exposed to him, his large hands grope your ass. he slaps the soft skin sending your lower half to grind against his tight jeans. bucky groans, pulling you closer to his bottom half. you felt the jean material rub against your clothes clit, your body shakes at the new feeling. “god you have no idea what you do to me princess.” he moans into your neck. his right hand unhooks your bra, you let the bra fall off of you. bucky eyes your bare chest, his blue eyes darken filling with lust.

he pulls your breast into his mouth, twirling his tongue around your swollen nipple. you grip onto his shirt, when moves your ass back and forth on his pants. “p-please bucky.” you whine, your body was aching for him to touch you. “what do you want doll?” you grab his, guiding him to your clothed cunt. you slip his hand under you, allowing his to grope your pussy. your mouth gapes open when bucky slowly rubs your clit back and forth.

when he notices you like the feeling of him touching you, it sends him into a deep lustful trance. he flips you over, bucky’ dog tags dangle over you. he kisses between your breast, trailing down to your stomach then he comes in contact with your laced white panties.

you can feel his breath on your wet core. he inhales you, moaning as if your cunt was the drug he was addicted to. he removed your panties from your body, bucky’s cock hardens once he caught a look at your pussy, your cunt was glistening from how wet it was, it took everything in bucky not to dive right in. “your so wet for me baby, and i haven’t even touched you yet. your pussy is begging for me to devour it.” bucky taunts. he slips one finger in your folds, your back arches at the finger passes your clit.

“bucky…please. i’ll do anything.” you beg. bucky perks an eyebrow at you. “anything?” you nod vigorously. “you’re going to cum for me three times. understand?” you nod your head. bucky licks a stride up your cunt. he moans at the taste of you. bucky wraps his pink lips around your clit, your legs spread wide as you beg for him to devour you. your back arches more, his hands pin your waist down to keep you steady, you screw your eyes shut as he sucks your clit into his mouth softly.

you moan out in pleasure, letting your hands grip his soft brown hair. you tug on his roots, attempting to push him closer to you. bucky pulls away earring a whine from you, he slips his middle finger into your core. at first his movements were slowly, he was preparing before adding his ring finger. you rode his fingers, moaning as he pumped you. you watch as he spits on your core, watching his saliva mix in with your cunt. you felt your stomach tighten, bucky felt your pussy clench around his fingers, imagining you around his cock.

he wastes no time, diving into your pussy. his tongue rapidly worked your clit, his fingers pumping you at a fast pace. your body was overwhelmed by all the stimulation. “bucky!” you scream at the top of your lungs. you were now grinding against his face, he didn’t tease you anymore, now he was on a mission to give you your orgasm. your legs shake, you cry out for bucky, your toes curled and your back arches to its full extent. bucky slows his movements as you come down from your high.

you collapse on his bed, you shiver as you feel bucky remove his hand from your pussy. you try to catch your breath, bucky hovers over you. “who knew my babydoll had that in you.”

[borrovvedyoongi]

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

-

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?” 

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

-

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target. 

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming. 

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.” 

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

-

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

-

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

-

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs. 

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -17- Carter Hart

All previous parts linked in my master list

A/N: Okay, so we’re officially in the homestretch of the series. This part is a little calm, no real huge shocking moments. Just a lot of thoughts. So enjoy my loves. 

“C’mere. You look stressed.”

You wished you could tell him just how stressed you were. Every second you were waiting for a new text. A new rule to the game, another move Zachary wanted you to make. You wanted to be able to enjoy these moments with him, because you didn’t know how many more you were going to have. Zach made it very clear that he wanted all of this to crumble down around you. 

“It’s just finals,” You lied, “I want to be as prepared as I can.”

“Babe, they aren’t for another couple of weeks,” Carter laughed, holding his arms open for you, “Just come over here.”

“Carter, they start next week.”

“Please? I just want to spend time with you. Not you and your books.”

You sighed and shut one of your textbooks before pushing away from the kitchen bar. You folded yourself into Carter’s side, wanting to be as close to him as you could. Deep down, you knew the smartest thing would be to put as much distance between you and him as you could, but you selfishly didn’t want to do that. 

You liked being with him too much. You liked the feeling you got when you were with him. The warmth in your chest, the freedom you felt. Carter seemed to even make it easier to breathe, to think. You could just be when you were around him. There were no games, no part you had to play. You could just be a girl who was in love with a boy.

“See, this is better than going cross eyed over there,” He joked, kissing the top of your head, “Are you feeling better by the way?”

You almost questioned what he meant before you remembered how quickly you’d run from the game just the night before, “Yeah. I was just so tired. Been pulling all nighters.”

He held onto you a little tighter, “You’re going to run yourself into the ground before too long.”

If only he knew just how bad things would get. Finals were the least of your worries now. Maybe you’d be lucky to even make it that long. You might not even be able to sit them, whatever game Zachary wanted you to play...it could be over before then. 

You tried to push those thoughts out of your head. All you wanted to do was just enjoy the feeling of Carter’s arms around you. The fireplace was on, he had a blanket around both of you, with some movie playing on the TV. Not that either of you were paying attention to it. You wanted to forget about all of it, just for the night. One more night where you could just be a girl in love.

“I don’t want the season to end,” You said honestly, “Or the semester. I’m not ready for you to leave.”

He looked down at you with such love in his eyes, “Come back home with me. Stay with me for the summer.”

You sat up, fully able to look at him now, “You want me to come to Canada with you?”

He shrugged, “That way neither of us has to say goodbye, and you were going to go with Travis anyway, so consider it a little change of plans.”

“A little change of plans? Isn’t Alberta on the other side of the country?”

He shrugged, a playful smile spread across his face, “Details. Just promise me you’ll think about it. Yeah?”

You nodded, “I’ll think about it.”

“I think you’d really like it. And my family...they want to meet you so bad,” He explained, “I’m sure Trav would gladly come stay for a week or two. Maybe all of us could go somewhere. Maybe Mexico or somewhere like that.”

He held you tighter again, you almost wondered why he was holding you as closely as he was. Carter normally did give you a little space to breathe, but tonight it seemed that the both of you were unwilling to let go. You didn’t mind though. Maybe if you could just hold him like this for a while it would be easier to walk away later. 

The fireplace crackled in front of you, the TV on low providing more background noise than anything else. Your fingers slowly ran up and down his arms. You relished his warmth, wanting to just stay wrapped up in him forever. 

You sat up a little bit to kiss him. The feeling of his lips against yours was nearly intoxicating. You just wanted more. You always wanted more with him. Like no amount was ever enough. You wanted to keep being with him. You wanted him, always.

And as the kisses started to fuel something more, all you could do was silently beg him for one thing. With every kiss, with every movement of his hands, with the way you climbed on top of him. 

Distract me. Make me forget what will happen. Make sure I remember moments like this.

It became like a chant inside your head while your body said other things. You loved him so much it practically hurt, but in the best ways. You didn’t want to forget moments like this. You didn’t want to forget how it felt to be loved by him, fully and completely. You clung to him as he practically made your body sing. 

And for a few moments, it was just you and Carter. Just the sound of your breathing and hearts hammering. Just the feel of his skin against yours, his lips seemingly everywhere. The way his hair tickled your neck when his head dropped onto your shoulder. 

You tried to savor it all. You wanted to remember the moments like this. Where neither one of you were bothered by the outside world. The moments where you could just be two young people in love, without all of the other baggage.

You clung to him as he moved. He kept whispering how much he loved you. You wondered if he knew those words almost felt like a brand. But you didn’t want him to stop. Not as his fingers dug into your skin, teeth sinking into your shoulder, leaving behind a mark. You wanted all of it more than anything. For just a few more days, you wanted all of it. You wanted to be able to remember. Even if every second would make it harder for you to walk away when the time came.

What felt like hours later, both of you finally found your way back into the bedroom. The sheets were tangled around both of you. You never wanted to forget the comfort you felt while in his arms. The sense of safety he always brought to you. Because you knew he would protect you, even if it meant putting himself in the line of fire, he would do it. For reasons you didn’t understand, he chose you. 

He wanted you….he loved you.

You watched as he slept next to you. All you wanted to do was memorize every feature. When you thought back on him years from now, you wanted to be able to remember every little detail. The way his hair, now fluffy from the amount of times your fingers ran through it and pulled on it, fell all over his face. The way his mouth was just slightly parted, although not even the smallest of snores seemed to escape this morning. You wanted to remember the way he often slept all scrunched up, but how today he was stretched out, an arm thrown around you. You wanted to remember the weight of that arm, the warmth of his body next to you, the way the mattress seemed to cave just enough to push you towards him.

You’d turned your phone off hours ago, just so that it would be you and Carter. No one else. Travis, Ethan, and Kora all knew how to reach you if needed. But for now, with no hockey for the next couple of days, and the fact that it was officially the weekend, it could just be you and Carter. Even if this would be the last time, it was all you needed. 

Your heart seemed so full as you watched him sleep next to you. But you wouldn’t kid yourself, you knew that this wouldn’t always be your life. But even if Carter was just for a short time….such a short time...it would be okay. You’d known more love from him in the last months than you ever expected to know from anyone romantically. 

He deserved the world for how he treated you, how he loved you. He deserved everything that you couldn’t give him. Your chest seemed to tighten at the thought of it. You would never be able to give him everything he should have from this life. You’d never be able to love him as freely as he loved you...no matter how much you wanted to. He deserved more than you’d ever be able to provide...he deserved a future.

You looked at him again, feeling tears burn your eyes. He was too peaceful. A type of peace you wouldn’t be able to give him when he was awake. You wanted him to always be this peaceful, but instead he was always worried about protecting you. You didn’t want that for him anymore. You didn’t want to ruin his early twenties.

You gently brushed a bit of hair out of his face, knowing he slept too hard for it to wake him up. The sky outside was still dark, but you couldn’t stay here any longer. You felt like the walls were closing in, and you couldn’t be here like this. So, you quietly dressed and left him a note, telling him that you needed to go back since you had a 6am class. 

But that feeling in your chest didn’t go away when you left his building. Because you just wanted to turn around and cuddle back up with him. You wished you had the freedom to do that. So many things could be different if Zachary was never a part of your life. But would you have even been able to experience this level of love if he hadn’t?

But you couldn’t stop yourself from putting on the new dress you acquired the previous week and making your way down to Carter’s awaiting car. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go to the event, but he looked so hopeful when he asked you. You just couldn’t say no to him. You wanted this to be another one of the good memories that you could look back on.

Carter leaned over to kiss you the moment you were in his car. It almost hurt to see just how happy he was. Would he still feel the same way about you if he knew you were playing games with the devil again? Would he want anything to do with you? 

“You look….damn. Maybe we should just show up a little late.”

“We can’t, you’re expected to walk the carpet for all of the press.”

He sighed and brought your hand to his lips. You closed your eyes, trying to find a way to make the feeling go away. You felt like you were betraying him. Like you were betraying everyone. Ethan, Travis, Nolan, Kora...everyone. 

“You okay?” Carter asked a few minutes later, “You’re really quiet.”

You nodded and took a second to find some sort of lie, “Kora was snoring really loudly last night, so I didn’t get much sleep.”

He laughed, so light and free. You hoped that you’d never forget the sound of his laugh. It was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. Somehow, it always reminded you that there was still good in the world. That not everything was dark and broken. 

“Baby, you know you can always come over. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night,” He told you, “I like waking up to you.”

You nodded again, trying not to give in to the ache that seemed to be growing in your chest, “Playoffs start soon. And finals are this week...it’s all almost over.”

If only he knew what all over really meant.

[byulsgrease]

inextricably tie-d

The tie around your neck feels ever-so-slightly tighter.

(moonbyul/solar... kind of? x gender neutral reader, ~900 words)

cw: angst

a/n: ok when I was first trying to write the last byul fluff it was pretty late at night (for me) so it started veering into angst instead and this was the result

edit: I just got the WORST idea for a possible next part... we'll see if I have the courage to write it (okay I kinda did? not full-fledged though)

[prev]

Staring at your underwear-clad body in the mirror, your eyes drift to the suit on the hanger, spotless and pressed, folded perfectly. Your hands steady the hanger while slipping the pants off of it, the fabric almost cool in your fingers. Gingerly stepping into each leg as to not ruin the pleat, you zip and button them up - an action you haven't done in forever. It takes you a second to get the button through the slit, the movement nearly foreign.

Wow, they're perfect.

The hem stops just at the tops of your feet and they fit perfectly everywhere else. Her assertion rings through your mind: "Trust me. Don't underestimate the value of a tailor, the extra expense is absolutely worth it." Your teeth close in on your bottom lip at the recollection.

I guess she was right.

Strangely motivated to put on the rest, the white button-up swishes off the hanger, your fingers making quick work of the buttons. The jacket soon follows. You shuffle back a couple steps on the carpet to get a better look in the mirror. The shirt and jacket fit perfectly, much like the pants, laying nicely in all the right places with no wildly-long sleeves or bunchy areas. The whole ensemble reminds you of the color of the sky on the various nights spent stargazing together - midnight navy.

"Maybe you'll look almost as good as me."

The last element hangs limp around the hanger hook - a dirt-cheap black tie from Daiso. You own a tailored suit. How is that damn thing still in your possession?

"Button your shirt up all the way for the tie to sit right around the collar."

You whip the tie off the hanger to slip it behind your upturned shirt collar.

The skinny end starts off higher than the other.

It essentially ties itself. Your thumb and index finger slide up the length of the rough fabric to place the knot at the base of your neck. In the mirror, you can't help but stare at the gentle pinch holding the tie, hand lingering there at the top button of your dress shirt.

"Now this... is my favorite part."

It's like she's in the room. The warmth of her front pressed into your back, hands enveloping your waist. The low yet melodic tone of her voice in your ear, praising you for trying but still managing to laugh playfully at your frustration.

Why is this so difficult?

But those sweet moments were now long gone. A few too many laughs had turned the corner to mockery, which turned to hurt feelings and miscommunication. She always told you to let it go and take a joke, but your stubbornness constantly ate that reassurance away. Your claim to work on that apparently fell through - in tandem with your relationship.

You wouldn't be saying these things if there wasn’t an element of truth in them.

She let you keep the suit, though. It was obviously tailor-made, much like she was for you. Or, well, how you at least imagined she was.

Did I ask for too much? Was I not enough? If I was, would she have stayed?

The thought spirals and a stream of what-ifs fill your mind, subjects of many-a-journal-entry over the last year. This hadn’t happened in a while.

Why did she leave?

Snapping out of your own mind, your hands grasp the flaps of the suit jacket and tug down assuredly, fingers tucked inside. Confidence, your brain tells you. You look damn good.

“Kidding, kidding.”

Reaching into the closet for your dress shoes, you slip a hand into your pocket to check your phone one last time. Kim Yongsun - that was all you knew about this blind date. Her name.

Does she still think about me?

She’s obviously still on your mind, you’re sporting the very suit she bought for you.

It’s been a year, stop kidding yourself.

Bottom making contact with the hard plastic seat, you head out on the train, the lights outside the window blurring in the dark tunnel. You anxiously fidget with your tie, unconsciously fiddling with the split ends of the unraveling seams.

Am I ready for this? No. But is anyone ever?

The determination to evict her from your mind finds fuel from bitter stubbornness as your dress shoes pound the pavement of the train platform. You need this to end. It's been far too long. As you step into the restaurant, you spot someone fervently scanning the room. A timidly awkward introduction follows but her bright smile shines through it all as your legs slip underneath the tablecloth to take a seat.

"Um, maybe I'm being too forward since we literally just met," leaning forward with her hands in her lap, "but your outfit... daamn."

Don't you dare mention her. First date sacrilege!

You tune out the inner monologue with a mild-mannered smile. "Thanks. An old friend picked it out for me." Hopefully your words came out in a tone not too cold. The tie around your neck feels ever-so-slightly tighter. Your thumb swipes the condensation off the side of your water class before grabbing it to take a sip, trying to wash away the lump that formed in your throat with that tangential mention of her, tinged with unwarranted longing.

What the hell am I doing here?

She might not be in your life anymore, but you can’t deny you’re inextricably tied, much like the tight fabric knot resting at the base of your throat.

[next] cw: suggestive

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.8)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7] previous chapters

[CH.9] next chapter (now avaliable!)

You tiptoe yourself towards the room where detention was being held that lunch hour, not surprised to see a familiar face after Jaeyun's warning of Sunghoon or Heeseung being there. You clashed eyes with Sunghoon whose eyes flickered up and down at you like a light switch as you entered the room. Sunghoon's stone face would only vanish into the only other facial expression you've ever seen him give, a sinister smile.

"Have a seat... Y/N" Your gym teacher lowered her head, visibly more interested in the flyer she had in hand.

You took a slow gander at the other people in the room, a couple of recognizable lower classmen and duos of pranksters. Sunghoon stuck out like a sore thumb, remaining the centre of your attention. You willingly took up the vacant desk beside him at the very back where a few shadows lingered.

"Unexpected meeting." Sunghoon was subtle, speaking in a deep voice was just audible enough to be heard by you. You both didn't make eye contact as it would've made it obvious you were talking and God knows how many more detention sentences you'd be given for being caught chatting.

"Jaeyun told me you're here all the time, no surprises for me." You whispered while making yourself at home in your chair.

You blink in frustration as you realize if you had brought your physics textbook, you could've worked on the questions you hadn't done in class. You pull out some notes to study in the meantime, dreading the fact you were about to spend the next half hour wasting brain energy reviewing for a test you were getting quite confident with.

After using most of the detention time repeating your study terms, you peek over at Sunghoon who rested his head down on one of his arms that dangled off the front of his desk. You got the idea of passing notes to communicate with Sunghoon in the last 10 minutes of detention. Tearing off a medium-sized square of paper, you began to write in a sharp font:

hey, just wanted to ask if you're flirting with dahee or something?  rumour has it you already have a girlfriend... i won't tell anyone :-)

You fold the paper and carefully flick Sunghoon's shoulder, eyeing the teacher while you're at it out of caution. Sunghoon slowly lifted his face, squinting to adjust to the bright light before seeing the paper you held out for him. With a raised brow he grasped it between his thin fingertips, stretching it out of its crumpled form. You don't bother looking at his reaction and rather wait for him to write down a response in the empty spaces you left. Within a quick exchange, the folded paper was back in your possession with a couple of words written, his writing a lot smaller than you imagined.

since when did I have a girlfriend? and who says I'm flirting with dahee?

You obviously only pretended there was a rumour of Sunghoon having a girlfriend to avoid telling him the truth. From what you could recall, Sunghoon would "kill" Kyungeun if he found out what you saw. You weren't just going to throw Kyungeun under the bus and get her into trouble so here you were stuck thinking about your reply. Your pencil began to move once a response was in mind.

I saw it with my own eyes yesterday! something is up between you and dahee

Sunghoon took the paper right off your desk before you could fold it nicely as if he was reading as you wrote. This time he scribbled in loose and long lines as a way of communicating faster.

why does it matter? let me answer my own question, I know you saw me with Kyungeun

Your eyes went white, blinking in horror as you read the paper over and over. How could he have known you were there? You could've sworn it was too dim in the library that day.  It would also be practically impossible to identify anyone behind or even through the cracks from where Sunghoon was standing. The only answer would be Jaeyun then, right?

The teacher extended on knee down to push herself into a standing position "I'm going to the bathroom, there are only a few minutes left but I better see all of you still here and quiet when I get back."  The teacher left in a flash, probably doing her best to get back as quick as she could. But it didn't take more than 20 seconds before people broke the silence and started chatting it up with each other. You also took the absence of the teacher to speak.

You stood up in disbelief to interrogate Sunghoon, "Who told you I was there?" You looked around to make sure no one was watching while you moved in closer to Sunghoon.

"I could sense you there, behind the fiction bookshelves" He slumped back in his chair to observe your face in full light, "No one told me you were there."

You swallowed harshly at the correct observations of his, you believed he was lying just to scare you. "Cut the bullshit. So what is it about my friends that you NEED so bad? Sex?" You gasped in your head at your own retort.

"Sex?" He wheezed, hitting the table with an open palm. His loss of breath was an indication that he found your assumption pathetic. "I'm not that low Y/N," He pulled you in more than you had expected to increase the volume of his whisper, "Kyungeun will be of no use to me once I have Dahee... I'll let Kyungeun free soon, don't worry."

You hear footsteps against the waxed floors of the hallway and immediately sit down along with the rest of everyone in the room. The whole class shifted in a prim and proper manner as if no one moved an inch while the teacher was gone. You rummage through your bag to find the book you had taken out from the library to help sell the act.

"I'm surprised half of you didn't leave while I was gone... You are free to pack up now."  She nodded and left the class to probably catch her own lunchtime.

"Why will Kyungeun be of no use?" You get back on track with Sunghoon after the short commercial break.

"What's this book?" He ignored you, snatching the stack out of your hands without much thought.

"Don't ignore my question! And it's for one of my classes." You added.

He flipped to a random page like you had done when you first saw the book. He scanned the text and made all kinds of expressions, "Why the fuck do you have this?!" His jaw slightly lower than usual before an unexpected cast of excitement took over his face "This book you have, I'll have to confiscate it, pretty girl."

Immediately making you jumped on both feet to block any further travel, "Why? No? It's rightfully mine!" You scrapped the question and got more worried about the book.

He held the book as high as he could so you wouldn't even attempt to snatch it from him, "I'm starting to think you're fooling us more than we're fooling you. How much do you actually know about us?" He was clearly amused by you.

"Am I that clueless???" You bit down on your tongue, the word murderers coming to mind. But somehow that answer didn't seem right. "Fine keep that book and don't answer my question."  You muttered bitterly.

Sunghoon spun around in his slender form, "I'll answer all of your questions and give you this book back." You watched as he steadily gravitated toward the door, "Meet me at the front of the woods at dusk." And so he left the room, his mysterious intent making you uneasy.  The meetup was being held so late, in the dark, far from school grounds.

...

"I figured you had detention Y/N..." Hyesun tsked, "How was it?"

"It was alright, got some studying done... Funny, I saw Sunghoon there." You shivered just saying his name aloud.

"Sunghoon? Of course... He's sort of a snob to the teachers. Speaking of Sunghoon, Dahee told me this morning that she couldn't stop thinking about him." Hyesun bit deliciously down on her strawberry pastry, "But by chance... Do you by chance like him?"

"Why do you ask?" You answer not thinking at all.

"Dahee thinks you do, apparently by the way you look at him...? I mean, she really doesn't want to get too attached if that's the cas-"

"YES! I do like him!" You cut Hyesun off with the thought that by saying you liked him would get Dahee away from the dangerous prick.

Were you screwing up something up by saying that? Hopefully not.

"Oh, then you should tell her... I think the sooner the better because she was really wondering this morning whether or not to keep flirting." Hyesun suggested before her eyes grew large out of their sockets as she looked over your shoulder, "Hey Jungwon?"

You jumped out of the table, your mind in full freakout mode, "Jungwon??? Hey!?" You panicked as you were positive Jungwon heard literally everything that just came out of your mouth. "Hyesun I need to talk to Jungwon about a project if you'll excuse us." You were full of lies today and you were sure it would come to bite you back somehow.

Yanking Jungwon's wrist, you led him outside the dining hall and into the courtyard where there were actually people hanging around in the warm autumn noon. Jungwon shook your hand off of his coldly.

"Since when did you like Sunghoon?! He's fucking insane he will fucking ruin you!" Jungwon screamed with his voice that even began cracking up. He was yelling so loud, not giving a damn if the full basketball court heard him.

"Stop getting so mad?! I know he's a fucking bad guy! I don't actually like him calm down!" You tried raising your voice over his, trying to control the temper in your body.

"Then why in the hell did you tell your friend you do?! Why are you getting so involved with him dear God!" Jungwon breathed fire through his nose, resting the side of his fingers over his brows to avoid looking at you.

"Because I'm trying to protect her??? Would you stop acting like this? I don't understand why he's a bad person but it's clear he has some malicious intentions with my friends so just get off my fucking back would you? You don't even wanna explain to me either so just chill out!" You exploded with emotions right then and there but you had more fuel to the fire, "Are you just leading me on by caring about me this much? Are you jealous Jungwon? Do you like me? Answer me!"

In your deepest wishes, you wanted him to say yes but part of you was plain tired. You didn't know where all this talk of yours was coming from but somehow your feelings blended into the chaotic mixture of the moment.

He hesitated to answer which was enough to boil up some sort of pain and frustration in your heart, "I-I don't know!? I just really care for you Y/N!" Jungwon held his head as he lost his balance his face expressing he was not feeling well. He took a few steps back, his voice a lot softer as he began to breathe a bit heavier. "I think I'm gonna throw up." He groaned in pain as he held onto his head tighter.

In an instant, you snapped out of your anger and looked around for help while still checking on him, "Jungwon are you alright?!" You slid your bag off of yourself and put your hands near his sides in case he fainted, to which he was already in the process of doing. "Holy shit! Jungwon?!" His legs gave up on him completely, melting down into the pavement. Luckily he would not smash his skull if it weren't for the instinct of your arms to catch him.

You turned to the basketball court to see Jay had already approached the situation, a beat-up basketball in between his fist and torso. Jay knelt down with worry, "I knew this would happen to him..." He mumbled in frustration

[boxofbadaddiction]

Come For a Drive

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: George steals his Dad's car to take the girl he fancies on a surprise late night drive but things don't go quite to plan.

Warnings: Swearing. Our boy don't have a liscene.

It was risky, George knew that. Stealing his Fathers car in the dead of night. If his parents found out he was sure he'd never see freedom again. But it was worth it, in his opinion. Y/n was worth it.

He's been smitten with her since the beginning of the year, after they shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

He's always known of her, being mutual friends with Lee Jordan and all, but she's always been rather reserved. It wasn't until they shared that compartment he realised how great she was. There was just something different about her that hooked him.

He'd tried all year to get to know her better, but it wasn't easy. She had very thick walls built around herself, he could she that, but he also saw the goofy, confident, fun side of her too scratching just below the surface. If one wasn't paying attention it'd be easy to miss but George was always paying attention.

As the Summer holidays drew nearer he'd managed to get some fleeting moments alone with her: between classes and walking from meals. Which is how he learnt she lived only a cars ride away from the Burrow.

Hence his current escapade.

It was just past 11 o'clock in the night when he gingerly snuck from his bedroom as to not wake Fred (not that he would even if George tried to wake him) then down the stairs and out the back door.

Slowly he pulled the barn doors of their small shed open and crept into the car; a bronze, 1978 Volkswagen Scirocco.

His face scrunched as he turned the keys in the ignition as if willing the car to start as quietly as possible. With a rumble and hiss of the engine the car started. While he sat waiting for the engine to warm up he stared worriedly to the homes windows praying no lights flicker on.

A few minutes passed with no movement and he sighed in relief, shifting into reverse he backed the car out and set off with one destination in mind. Y/n's.

...After a breif detour as the low fuel light beckoned him to the nearest petrol station. Luckily the family kept a decent amount of muggle money in the console for such occasions. Arthur hadn't dared modify their new car with magic as he had the Ford Angila, given what unfolded 2 years prior.

Driving cautiously through the street he recognised as Y/n's his eyes scanned every house door and mailbox for the number he knew to be hers, from all the times they'd exchanged letters, smiling proudly to himself when he spotted it and the light which shone from her bedroom window which told him she was awake.

Y/n was a halfblood, like Lee Jordan, and after a discussion with George on some of her favourite classic movies the idea to surprise her in a similar fashion had sprung to mind.

Pulling the car to the side of the street he quickly shift into park, leaving the car running as he hopped from the vehicle, and crept to the garden which lined the base of the simple two story home.

He searched blindly on the ground for a handful of small stones, standing back a pace when he was satisfied with the 5 small rocks in his palm.

He could faintly hear the melody of whatever song she were playing through her speakers and hoped he'd be loud enough for her to hear.

Softly as possible he tossed them towards her window and listened for the light clink which followed telling him he'd hit his mark. The first 3 he threw were met with no response. It wasn't until his fourth attempt the approaching shadow of her figure told him he'd got her attention.

She peered curiously from the window of her bedroom, squinting into the darkness below.

George stepped into the light thrown from her bedroom, waving an arm above his head to get her attention onto him which seemed to do the trick as she opened the sliding glass window.

"George?" She questioned in a shouting whisper. "Hey" he answered simply with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Come for a drive"

Y/n was silent for a moment as her brows furrowed and mouth fell agape. "...what?" "Come for a drive." He repeated casually. "You don't have a liscene." "No, but I have a car...don't worry I'm an excellent driver" he winked.

The girl looked back over her shoulder into her bedroom then back to him, contemplating the idea and biting her lip at the thought. Her mind telling her one thing while her heart begged for another.

"Okay. I'll be down in 2 minutes" she allowed a smile to breakthrough onto her features. George's eyes lit up at that and he began nodding through a grin as he moved toward the car, "Dash of speed" he teased hoping back into the drivers seat.

Y/n rushed quietly through her room, throwing on a favourite pair of jeans and comfortable sweatshirt, overtop of the plain singlet she were already wearing, before switching off her stereo and bedroom light.

Cautiously she made her way down the stairs from the top floor of her home desperate not to wake her sleeping Father down the hall. Grabbing a set of house keys from the hook by the door she rushed from the house and made a run for the passenger side door. She chuckled slightly as she slid into her seat, looking excitedly to George as she fastened her belt. He was lent back in his place with one hand on the steering wheel and the other rested comfortably on the back of the passenger-side headrest. "Ready?" He questioned. "Ready."

It were a relatively short drive, mere 25 minutes from her home, before they found themselves admiring the large wheat fields and empty farm paddocks highlighted by the bright fullmoon shining over head.

Little to Y/n's knowledge this spontaneous late night drive was more than it appeared. George had spent a short amount of time that afternoon setting up a small picnic basket in the shed with a few small candles and a large blanket which he planned to spread out by the Burrows pond. He was hoping tonight would be the night he and y/n could become something more than just good friends.

They'd been making comfortable conversation all the while as George drove them down the familiar old dirt road which led directly to his home, his heart was swelling with pride at the smile on her face and the knowledge he were the one who put it there. The night was absolutely perfect...

Until the engine gave a sudden unexpected cough and shudder and dread flooded his body.

The pair looked worriedly to the bonet through the windshield. George swallowed harshly before speaking "old cars ya know...nothing to worry about." Y/n looked to him with a tight-lipped smile and an uncertain nod.

Georges hands came to grip tightly at the wheel as he silently prayed and begged for the car to just. make it. home.

Another engine sputter rocked the car and they began to lose speed.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." George muttered anxiously under his breath. "Not now." The car gave a final harsh lurch before stopping in it's tracks on the old dirt road.

"Sure it's nothing." George reassured.

A reassurance which did not hold well as the engine let out a hiss and steam began billowing from the bonets edges.

The Redhead had to admit defeat. With a deep sigh he spoke simply: "Fuck." And pushed himself back into his seat, furrowing his hand through his hair.

Y/n swiftly unbuckled her seatbelt and sat up straight, tying her hair back out of her face.

"Look, I'm really sorry " George turned in place to face her sensing he'd just completely ruined the night. Several more apologies were already lined up on the tip of his tongue, "I-"

"Pop the hood." "What?"

The girl reached over the boys lap, one hand bracing the wheel as her other felt for the bonets lever. George sucked in a surprised breath at their current rather compromising position and held his hands back by his shoulders. When two of her fingers locked under a latch she gave a tug listening for the light pop of the cars hood which followed. Sitting up quickly she swung herself from the car as she opened the door in one swift motion walking to the front.

George fumbled with his seat belt hurriedly as he stumbled from the car to join her watching as she hoisted the bonet and secured it in place.

He coughed as the cloud of steam hit his face but y/n seemed unphased. With two hands placed on the cars front she lent over inspecting the engine looking for anything that may be out of place.

George watched as she tore her shirt from over her shoulders and wrapped it over her hand to test the various knobs were secure in place. He felt a bit awkward as he had no idea what to be looking for, but given the way her eyes scanned the cars interior he trusted she knew what she was doing.

He hadn't meant to but his eyes soon left the the cars body and attached to hers as he admired the way she bent forward. The look of concentration on her face as well as the slight shimmer of her skin from the steam and heat radiating from the busted vehicle. "There's not a flaw to this woman." He thought to himself.

He'd gotten so lost admiring her curves he almost missed when she spoke to him.

"What fuel did you put in here? Diesel?"

"Hmm? I-Ah-" George stuttered and cleared his throat, "The one closest to the car."

Y/n takes a step back letting the hood loose from it's prop and closes it, dusting her hands together as she speaks, "This car takes unleaded, you've put in diesel. Your engines clogged."

"Can we fix it?" George asks hopefully with a nervous expression, he had no intention of his parents ever knowing about his late night drive...so this complicates things a bit. Y/n, meanwhile, has to fight back the urge to smile at how cute he looks when he's nervous.

"I'll need tools but yeah, I can."

"Ugh. This is crap! I can see the bloody house from here." The boy groans frustratedly staring down the road.

"Look on the brightside, the roads pretty flat from this point on."

The redheads face scrunches in confusion, "How is that a brightside?" "Makes the push that bit easier." Y/n claps him on the back as she walks to the drivers door.

"...the push!?" George exclaims in shock. He watches as she leans into the car throwing her shirt into the back seat and shifts the gears into neutral before cranking the windows handle to wind it all the way down. "Unfortunately so."

He looks from the oddly relaxed girl back to where he can faintly see his home in the distance. "That's gotta be over 2k's away..." he states the obvious. "Well, there's no point waiting around. If you push from the back I can lean through the drivers side window and use the wheel to steer while I push from here. Shouldn't be too bad." "You are weirdly calm right now." This comment causes the girl to let out a small laugh. "Yeah well, this wouldn't be my first time. Come on, best get to it."

To George's surprise it wasn't overly hard to push, it were no picnic of course and he were quickly becoming tired but he'd expected it to be much harder than it turned out to be.

The pair were working up quite a sweat as they pushed the car along the dirt track. They took a brief pause for George to take the time to remove his red flannel, leaving him in a sweat stained white t-shirt, and tied it's sleeves around his waist as he'd become far too hot from the work. Their hair was now sticking to their foreheads from the sweat, the sight of the Burrow so close now firing a new determination in them to make it back.

Y/n managed to easily guide the car back into it's place in the Weasleys garage as George collapsed comically behind the vehicle in a huff. "Ya know, when I came to get you tonight this wasn't at all in my plans."

"I'd certainly hope not." Y/n chuckled. George rest his head against the back of the car as he gazed over to where his prepared basket sat by the tools bench thinking if he may yet be able to recover from this rather embarrassing muck up.

"Right, do you have a tool box around here?"

"Ah, yeah" George shifts to grab their tools, laid just beside the basket he'd been staring at, thankful now of his Father's tinkering hobby as the shed was well supplied with a variety of tools he hadn't a clue what most were used for.

Y/n pulls the keys from the ignition before walking around to meet him as he hands the tools to her. "So, how do we do this?" "I'll need to drain your tank to start off, nothing I haven't done before." The girl speaks moving to place the tools by the boot, rummaging through the kit briefly in search of a flashlight: smiling as she locates a small black one in the bottom corner. She takes the keys and uses them to unlock the boot and retrieve the car jack, quickly pumping up the car so she can lay down underneath, switching on the small light as she does so.

"What are you doing down there?"

"Looking for the drain." "Ah! Right..." George is truly glad y/n can't see his face right now because the confusion he's visibly expressing gives away his feigned understanding of what she's talking about. He's quickly realising Muggle things are much more complicated than he may have thought.

"So uh...how do you know about all of this?" George questions awkwardly.

"My dad. He raised me, he's a mechanic and a real grease monkey. He taught me everything I know. Hey, do you have like a shallow bucket or grease pan out there?" "Uhh" he looks around the small room, filled with all of his fathers odd muggle artefacts and spare parts. "Yeah here you can use this." He answers reaching for a shallow tin dish.

Y/n slinks out from under the car after placing the bowl and unjacks the hoist letting the fuel drain.

"What's next after that's out?" "I'll clean everything out, put it all back together and no one need know a thing." She winks at the astonished boy infront of her.

"You truly are brilliant." He smiles.

George watches on as y/n works diligently to fix his Fathers car, completely in awe, as the night slowly approaces the day. She tells him about her childhood: growing up watching street races and helping her father fix cars. His eyes are trained to her every movement and attention fixed unwaveringly to every story she tells. She's so smart and beautiful and just everything he wants he can't help feeling himself falling further for her as he hangs from every word.

"Well. That should be it." Y/n smiles to George as she wipes her hands on an old rag, stepping away from the car.

She's covered in dust and grease and sweat but there's a glow to her. George can't stop the smile that breaks across his face as he takes her in.

Y/n's face drops slightly and she tilts her head in question at Georges endearing sort of stare held on her. "What?" This successfully snaps him out of his trance as he shakes his head answering quickly "oh nothing no I just- thank you. For everything you're...you're really amazing."

Y/n chews the inside of her bottom lip as she blushes from the compliment wringing the piece of cloth between her nervous palms. "You're getting soft on me, Georgie." The girl teases and throws the dirty rag at his chest which he catches easily, tossing it aside.

His eye's rake over her figure once more in admiration and he notices a dead blade of grass hanging from a stray lock of her hair. He moves towards her slowly so he's standing not inches from her, staring down to her questioning doe-like eyes and slightly pouted lips. With a tentative hand he pulls the piece from her hair flicking it to the ground before tucking the strand behind her ear.

"You're filthy." George speaks without thinking, to which Y/n raises an eyebrow. "Laying under a car will do that to a girl." She retorts. "Sorry, I just meant, you probably want to get cleaned up?" He elaborates taking a bashful step back.

"Oh, it's fine really. I wouldn't want to risk waking your family. I can just wait till later-" "if it makes you more comfortable, there's a small sink at the end of Dad's work bench, wager you'll feel loads better once all that dust and crap is off your that pretty face of yours." He swipes his thumb over the edge of her chin playfully as he speaks the last words to her, that signature mischievous glint replacing the nervous look in his eyes from earlier. Y/n blushes at his words and the light touch. "I'll go grab us some drinks, you must be thirsty after how hard you've worked. I'll be back in a tick, yeah?" With a quick wink he leaves for the house.

As George leaves Y/n takes a moment to express all the giddiness she's feeling over the night. A bright smile adorning her features as she bounces slightly on the balls of her feet releasing a content sigh. She is so happy she came out tonight, even with George's little mishap with refuelling the car, she wouldn't change a moment of it. She's fancied George for quite some time now but something in her always stops her from being fully open to the possibility he may like her too. After tonight though she's hopeful their relationship is growing into something more.

Snapping herself out of her little lovestruck daze with a shake of her head she makes her way over to the small basin and begins washing away the dust and grime clinging to her skin.

George moves quietly through the kitchen retrieving a few small snack items and cool drinks from the fridge, listening intently for any movement upstairs. He decides to freshen himself up at the sink as he's quite sweaty as well, covered in dirt from the long push home, splashing water over his face and lightly scrubbing his forearms clean. He chews his lip as he peers from the kitchen window to the shed thinking about the girl waiting for him inside. 'May just be able to save this night yet' he thinks.

He's about to leave out the back door when a thought crosses his mind which has him quickly dashing to the laundry for a clean set of shirts. Ripping his dirty shirt over his head and the flannel from around his waist to replace it with one that's clean. He grabs one of his jumpers while he's at it before dashing back out the door.

"Hey, Y/n?" He calls walking back into the garage and over to where she's drying herself by the sink with a hand towel. "I-uh, I grabbed this while I was inside. Thought you might like something to wear. It's not much, a bit scratchy and probably 4 sizes too big but it's clean at least." He smiles sheepishly handing over the light sweater and turning to leave to give her some privacy to change and hastily set up the small picnic he'd intended for them to be on.

Y/n is at a loss for words. Staring to the deep green sweater in her hands, she runs the soft material through her fingers as she notices the large blue 'G' on the front and can pretty much feel her breath being stolen from her. She's certain there'd be no wiping the giddy, schoolgirl smile from her lips no matter how hard she tried.

Changing into the jumper quickly she relishes in the familiar scent of the man who gave it to her as it fills her senses. Nuzzling her face into it's collar she draws in as much of him as she can in a single breath before moving out to find him.

Her brows furrow as she notices his absence from the garage, stepping anxiously from the small building "...George?" her voice calls for him tentatively. She's startled as his tall figure suddenly appears by her side, there's a wide smile on his face and he's slightly out of breath.

"Hey" he greets as he grabs her hand, "Come with me." Y/n stumbles behind as he pulls her along with him, feeling butterflies erupt in her stomach over how his hand grips her own.

"This..." George begins as he comes to a stop pulling her body close to his, "is what I actually had planned for us tonight." He guestures towards a plaid blanket laid out by a ponds edge. 3 tealight candles lighting a platter of various snack foods and drinks. Billions of stars glimmer over head as the moon casts a brilliant blue over the vast paddocks which line the horizon.

Y/n's in awe of the scene laid before her and can't seem to find the words to express how blown away she is. George pulls her towards the picnic slowly as he watches a smile form onto her lips as she looks up to him.

"George, you didn't have to-" "i know I didn't have to. But I wanted to. I wanted to do this for you."

The pair sit and George takes the lead serving her a cool drink and some of his favourite pastries and sweets. Conversation flows easily between them as the night goes on and sooner than expected the platter is empty and placed to their side as they admire the night sky in comfortable silence.

One by one the stars begin to fade as the dawns first rays peak above the skyline but neither of them have grown tired, too wrapped in this moment shared together to ever dare let fatigue in.

George has always adored sunrises at the Burrow, watching as the early morning rays bathe the vast fields in a golden glow, he's excited y/n will be able to experience her first with him.

This sunrise, however, is different. This sunrise feels like a warning for George, one which tells him he's quickly running out of time.

In a moment of confidence George shifts so he's closer to the girl he adores. Their hands over lapping and legs only just grazing the others as they stargaze. Feeling brave herself Y/n let's her head rest against his shoulder and she smiles as she feels his own rest atop of hers. Her eyes drift shut contently.

It's only a small moment of intimacy but it has their hearts racing.

"Y/n...can I tell you something?" George speaks, breaking the formed silence.

"Mmm, of course."

"I don't want to make this awkward so no matter what I say just know nothing has to change between us if you're not comfortable with this."

Y/n shifts slightly to look up at him as he draws a shakey breath. Their eyes meet and she notes the nervousness held in his expression, she offers a small nod of encouragement, urging him to continue.

George turns in place, shifting onto his knees, to speak with her. It's now or never.

"I just- this past year, getting to know you better, it's made me realise how alike we are. You've become one of my absolute best friends and I never for the the world want that to change. But I can't continue to deny the fact that I am completely taken by you. You're so strong and smart, funny and beautiful that I just- I've fallen for you. I'd really like to try and be something more...if you'll let me. If that's something you want too."

There it was. The confession Y/n has been dreaming of for months. The same one she'd been debating on sharing seconds before he spoke. Over the last year George has proved himself to be a most loyal friend and someone she can place all her trust in. Staring into his eyes now after such an amazing night the only thing stopping her from getting everything her heart desires...is knowing the right words to say.

"George, I-"

"Wait! You should know that even if you don't feel the same way that that's okay. I'll happily pretend this whole dopey speech didn't just happen so nothing has to change. I just want you to be...happy, with us. No matter what."

"I am happy, Georgie." She smiles reaching for one of his hands and intertwining it with her own. "But I'd be happier with you. You're my best mate...always will be. But everything you just said: I feel the exact same way. George, I want to be yours."

An astonished breath leaves his body at her declaration and he can feel his body relax as the nerves drain away. He could swear his smile has never been so bright as it is in this moment and all he wants to do is hold her.

His hands come quickly to cup the sides of her face, her hands resting atop of his forearms, as he leans in to kiss her, stopping himself moments before their lips connect.

He pulls back slightly peering into her eyes to ask, "Can-can I kiss you?" Y/n bites the inside of her lip as she smiles, nodding eagerly. Her hand comes to the back of his neck pulling their lips into one anothers in a soft kiss.

One of George's hands comes to her waist as the other rests below her ear and he smiles when he feels her pull him down so he's laying above her.

They kiss until their breathless and on still. Basking in the others presence and the feel of their body so close to their own. As the sun slowly breaks over the horizon painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson they fall beside each other, cuddled on the ragged blanket with their foreheads rested together. Perfectly happy.

"Stay for breakfast?" George whispers sweetly, "Reckon Mum won't mind an unexpected guest at the table. Not after I announce it's my new Girlfriend."

"Mm, and how do you plan to explain my sudden appearance?" George shrugs with a smile, pulling her back in for another tender kiss.

"I'll come up with something."

[djxrxn]

the mediator

part one

reader x din djarin, paz vizsla, boba fett

part one, part two, part three, epilogue

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of criminal activity, maybe a crude reference or two

wordcount: 4.4k

summary: A friend on Nevarro offers you a well-paying job, but you realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew when a Mandalorian you wronged is on planet - and in between you and your next paycheck.

a/n: okay Uh hi so welcome to the mediator lol. i’ve started school for the fall semester, everything for me is online, and i’m an art major, so Everything Is On Fire. in terms of the blog, i’m working on quite a few things so if there’s something you were looking forwards to seeing, or like a request you submitted, i have seen it don’t worry, it will be written i promise!! i can’t prioritize it all rn because classes are pretty demanding, but in the spare time i have, a Lot is in the works so !! exciting!! this fic has three parts and an epilogue, which i’m working on now!! also i absolutely have to thank @jangofctts who has let me bother her about this fic for a Hot minute she’s pretty much the reason it’s written she was very extremely helpful and was the best set of second eyes i could ask for thank u so much i love you!!!! okay enjoy!!

Maker, you hated Nevarro.

The terrain was rocky and… empty. There were no settlements or major cities - you were so used to the bustle of planets in the Inner Rim. Wealthy elites with deep pockets, neon and electricity carving a place into the long nights - it was more home than anything else had ever been. But here? It was a volcanic wasteland, the hot and sticky air wavering around you as you trudged through the gravel, making your way slowly to the only inhabited area on this shithole of a backwater planet. This was not home, it wasn’t even familiar territory.

Arrey was lucky you were friends with her.

You weren’t even sure what Ives had wanted - all you had received was a vague transmission about a job that was sure to pay well, as long as you stayed calm, conducted yourself in a civil and calm manner, that sort of thing.

“But,” the transmission had crackled, the soft baritone of Ives’ voice echoing around your cockpit, “You are the best with this sort of thing, Coins. I have no doubts.”

You scoffed when you heard the nickname. You thought you had finally left it behind, but here was Ives, bringing up that stupid nickname she gave you. She only used it when she had a job for you that would require some... finessing. It was concerning, but the last good job you had was a few bond skippers. You were low on fuel, and you were starting to dip into emergency resources. Ives’ high risk jobs usually set you up for a few months at a time, as opposed to the normal pocket change you got on a bounty.

Whatever she had in store, you could handle for a few credits.

The sun was setting behind you as you laid eyes on the poor excuse for civilization ahead of you, the vibrant oranges and pinks you were used to being represented by a growing dark haze. The small settlement - a town, a territory, a place to rest your feet for a bit - was just as dry as the rest of the planet. There were no buildings that were taller than three stories, and only a handful of ships were docked in the outskirts of town.

It would be easier to enter through a small side entrance. The front of the town would be crowded, even so late in the evening, and if you were on Mandalorian business, it was best to be subtle. You were annoyed at how familiar you were with the layout of the small town, annoyed that you knew the best way to approach the job already - even an Inner City scam job would have to be more interesting than whatever shit Ives was about to have you up to.

You slipped between the space between the two buildings, worming your way through the alley. Not much activity on the streets - you were sure that this whole planet closed up shop at soon as the sun threatened to set.

A noise of disgust left your throat as you laid eyes on the small market ahead of you. It was so… quaint. Only a few jawas and merchants were loitering around still. Even if you wanted a quick coin, you were sure that they would be much smarter than to fall for any of your schemes. However many credits it would take to get back to the Inner Rim would all have to come from Ives.

The fob gave a soft pip as you passed a stand selling spare droid bits. Metal screws and circuit boards all strewn about, a tan R2 unit beeping and chirping behind the table - the Chagrian repairing the droid gave you a glare when you passed him, but you hadn’t even noticed.

You were staring down at your wrist - a small bounty fob had been stitched to an old bracer. Wires poked out of the side, and you hadn’t been sure that it still worked. But it gave another small pip, and you couldn’t help but smile.

How many years ago had Ives Arrey given you that bracer, telling you to stick close to her on your first job together? She was much more prepared for a dangerous situation - she was quick on her trigger, ready to start firing at the drop of a pin. You’re sure that the only reason you made it out alive on that heist was how fast she was able to dispose of the other members of your team.

The fob’s beeps grew quicker and quicker as you walked through the settlement. Its little shrieks bounced off the walls and buildings. You turned a corner, following the beeps, and two gloved hands stopped you from crashing into the person in front of you. A gasp tore its way out from your throat - your hand flew to your blaster on your thigh, ripping it out of the holster and -

“Hey,” a soft baritone echoed through a voice vocoder. It was smooth and calming, and it carried a heaviness to it, like an old dark lullaby. “Relax, relax, it’s just me.”

You blinked. It was your friend but this… this was not the Ives you remembered. Her armor was dark, and had color to it - it was hard to see it in the night, but it looked like a bright green accent around the pitch black of her owl-like visor. The longer you looked at her, the more you saw the deep green that covered all of her beskar.

“You look… different,” you smiled.

“So do you,” she responded with a chuckle. “You changed your hair.”

After a shrug, you respond, “I was getting bored, but you look incredible - what, did they let you finally paint your armor?”

“Yeah, actually. I earned my signet,” she said. Ives gestured to her pauldron where a serpent was coiled up, baring its fangs.

“Wicked cool worm,” you teased, clicking off the fob around your wrist.

She punched your shoulder lightly. “Vexis,” Ives corrected. “It’s a Vexis, from Pasaana. Remember the job I took on Pasaana?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” You rolled your eyes, but Ives huffed. Her visor tipped down in a Mandalorian glare.

“Hey,” she warned. Ives let out a little huff as you flashed a cheesy grin at her. “Maker help me, Coins ”

“Okay, okay.” You held your hands in surrender. “It’s a Vexus.”

“Remember that,” she said, turning on her heels and walking down the alleyway. It didn’t take much for you to keep up with her, her legs making smaller strides than yours did. Her cape fluttered around her ankles as she walked, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mandalorian she looked. She was…

She was intimidating.

“It’s a lot to take in, right?”

You nodded. She sighed and tugged on the edge of her glove. “Yeah, it’s still a lot for me too.”

“When did you get the upgrade?” The sun was completely gone, nothing but a small moon to show you how intricate the patterns on her armor was. Small leaves and vines had been engraved on her chest plate, a streak of yellow ran amongst every piece of beskar, and a small smear of red had been painted on under her signet.

“Actually, very recently,” she said. “A few days before, well, before you were needed.”

“Right, ” you hummed, “And that is...?”

Ives glanced over her shoulder “A very sensitive matter,” she whispered.

You huffed. Before you could even get out a comment, she continued, “That I will get to. I want to get a little bit closer.”

“Closer to?”

You were almost positive you could see her roll her eyes in the way her helmet tilted back and forth. “I’m going to need you to be a little more patient, please.”

“Ives, come on.” Your brow furrowed. You knew Ives to be careful, but this was being conservative with the details of your next paycheck. “And you’re being vague on purpose - just tell me-”

“I don’t want the wrong person overhearing,” she hissed.“ That’s all-”

“Well, well, well-” A Middle Rim accent sounded behind you, gentle and smooth. A long, armored arm crashed down onto your shoulders, and you were jerked back. “I thought I heard my favorite little criminal. I wasn’t aware that Coins stepped foot on planets that, what did you say again, ‘smelled like on fire ass’?”

You let out a small sigh of relief - you wrapped an arm around the willow torso you had been smushed up against. “Aw, Aeris, you know I couldn’t stay away from you for long.”

“Wow, I’m so honored you came all the way to see me.” You could hear the wicked smile coming through his vocal modulator. “But I know you don’t come to the Outer Rim unless you leave with heavier pockets.”

“You’re right.” It’s your turn to give a wicked smile. “I don’t.”

“So, who are you scamming this time?” He pinched your cheeks with his spare hand. “Stealing from children or widows?”

“Technically, Aeris she’s stealing from us,” Ives interjected. You gently punched his unarmored side, and he sagged on top of you with a dramatic groan.

“Mortally wounded,” he groaned. “And confused - how is she stealing from us?”

Ives paused, coming to a stand still - you almost tripped over Aeris’ feet as he mirrored her movements.

After a moment of silence, the only noise was the quiet night slowly coming to life around you, Aeris mumbled something in Mando’a under his breath after a moment, almost trying to fill the silence himself. When you looked up at his dark visor, he just shook his head.

You looked at Ives - her visor was pointed towards the ground, and she was picking at her glove again, tugging at the leather around her hands. You were familiar with these habits - you had seen Ives look at the ground and fidget with her hands hundreds of times before. She was carefully planning her next actions, quickly considering her options before she chose the best one.

She let out a low hum, and looked back at you.

“The leader of our Covert has given me authority to find a mediator to sort out a complication that arose on a job,” Ives said. “I’ve chosen you.”

You blinked. “Me?”

She gave a single nod.

“Sh-shouldn’t you find, I don’t know, maybe a Mandalorian mediator?”

“Our leader has explicitly forbidden any other Mandalorians interfering,” she explained calmly. “She wants unbiased and impartial help.”

“Even in negotiations?” You choked out.

“Oh, please,” Aeris chimed in, “Especially in negotiations. An outside perspective is supposed to be helpful.”

“Unbiased and extremely helpful, yes.” Ives added. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“Okay, so I’m negotiating between a few Mando’s, what’s the catch?” You said, being tugged along by Aeris. Ives and Aeris both glanced at you for a moment before looking back to , neither bothering to voice what they were thinking until you continued.

“Why did you ask for me specifically?” You sighed. “And what’s the catch - if it were an easy negotiation, you could have contracted anybody in the Outer Rims.”

“Well, we do like a mediator with a sense of style,” Aeris said, nudging at Ives.

“Because I know you. I know what you’re capable of, and I know your specialties. You’re good with money, you’re good at finding a way to split it up-”

“Is this what this is about? You want me to split shares?” You groaned. “Maker, Ives, I could have done that anywhere, why did I have to come here-”

“It’s not as clean and simple as that,” she interjected. “There are three Mandalorians who need three even shares of a profit. The amount doesn’t split evenly, and all three are trying to argue that they deserve a larger portion of the credits that the others.”

You let out a short breath. “I still don’t see-”

“These Mandalorians are hostile, especially when there’s money involved.” She pointed at her signet, the Venus on her shoulder. “The Way mandates a base level of respect, but I’m afraid it’s not going to last for much longer - if someone doesn’t work this out, there’s a good chance it could get violent.”

“Let them fight it out, then. Whoever wins the fight, they get the credits - simple?” You suggested.

“Our leader has instructed us to further this out peacefully,” Ives shook her head, “As not to draw attention to us.”

“With those three di’kut, they’d start a whole galactic war over this shit, so it’d be best to keep things slightly subtle.”

“Don’t be an ass, Fenn,” Ives chided. She let out a sigh and didn’t speak for a moment, carefully chewing her next words slowly. “But Aeris has a point, they can be difficult-”

“See, there, I do have a point,” you didn’t have to see his face to know he had a smirk plastered across his face - you could practically see every emotion he felt through his arms, and his voice, and through the way he let little phrases of Mando’a out when he didn’t want anyone to know he was insulting them.

“Thank you, Aeris, it’s greatly appreciated.”

“These Mando’s really care this much about a job?” You mumbled. You apparently had a lot in common with them - you couldn’t say that you wouldn’t feel the same, but something wasn’t adding up.

Aeris shrugged. “Money goes a long way in the Outer Rim.”

“Maybe so, but how exactly did this job go down?” You asked. “I’m not really seeing an issue yet.

“I don’t know everything, but I know that Vizla and Djarin sort of bumped into each other on a quarry, which means they have to cute the profit in parts already,” he said, “But I have no idea where Fett came from, or how he got involved on the job-”

You let out a small choking noise, but Aeris continued on. “-So Djarin is pissed, naturally, because he’s out on cash, but if he thinks he can get away will all of the credits, he hasn’t met Vizsla.”

“Or Fett,” Ives added. “Which... Fett isn’t exactly known for letting money walk away.”

Aeris snorted. “Maker, Coins, you’re in for it.”

You felt like you’d been punched - the air in your lungs was stolen from you so quickly that it took you a moment to remember how to breathe in the first place. Your blood turned to ice. You felt fucking sick.

Fuck.

Fuck - fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I don't-”

Your mouth moved before you could fully think out the consequences of bowing out from the job. You would be out money, and time, and Maker, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere.

But if you took this job, you were pretty sure that the only thing you’d be walking away with was a hole in your chest from one of Fett’s rifles.

Or head. Or, fuck, probably both.

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, I don’t want this job.”

Ives snorted. “Alright, sure.”

You nudged Aeris off of you, and you planted your feet. You weren’t doing this, you couldn’t do this job.

“Ives, no. I- I can’t do this job- I won’t negotiate the shares, you’re on your own!”

Ives stopped. You hadn’t been aware that you were shouting, not until both Mandalorians turned to look at you. You swallowed - you could almost see the shock on their face through their helmets.

“We both know that you wasted too much money on fuel to turn around without something,” Ives said, her voice calm and steady. You wouldn’t expect Ives to actually shout back at you, but you couldn’t help the slightly guilt that tugged at you as she turned back around. “You need to work on your bluffing skills - quickly. They’re not gonna take any shit.”

“She’s right.” Aeris shook his head. “Since when are you bad at lying?”

They started walking again, boots stomping out a quick pattern, Aeris tugging you along by your arm, almost dragging you behind him, and you couldn’t fucking breath.

Boba Fett was cold and calculated. He was a fucking murderer - there was hardly job he didn’t follow through on, rarely a job he didn’t see finished. He took up a contract with the Empire, last official thing you heard, and then he disappeared for a few years.

Then, he reappeared, almost twice as ruthless.

You knew Fett - you only worked with him once, but you were close enough to hear the rumors that he had a personal vendetta against you. You knew that he was looking for blood, and you knew that if he was here on Nevarro, and if he knew you were here, you fucking knew you wouldn’t be leaving here alive.

“How often do you work with bounty hunters as notorious as our own Fett?” Aeris chimed, almost reading your mind.

“I- I think it's been a while,” you choked out. Your voice was trembling, they must have heard it. Aeris just cocked his head to the side, a sliver of moonlight catching on his black helmet. “But I guess it depends.”

“Depends?” He asked. “Oh, oh, of course. The money.”

His long arm curled around your neck, bringing your head closer to his torso. Aeris was limber and thin, but he was still capable of being dangerous. He was just as lethal as any other Mandalorian you were going to meet tonight.

“I almost forgot that you don’t do anything unless there’s a credit for you,” he said, his voice dripping with malice, the jab feeling like a threat. “Which, Arrey, why don’t you tell our friends here how much is at stake.”

Your stomach felt like it was twisting up into a knot. For the first time ever on a job, you didn’t even want to know about the credits - how much you were about to make, how much was being argued over it, none of it. You just wanted out.

Not that Ives would let you out, you supposed, but the less you knew-

“The bounty was for fifty-two million credits,” Ives answered. “Djarin said it was a high profile bond skipper - they had racked up thousands of millions of dollars-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Ive’s explanation. The only thing you could focus on was the rush of your blood. Your heartbeat was so loud in your own ears. The whole world faded away, slinking around you in a confusing sludge. The hot air was stifling you. It was too heavy, too thick. Your lungs couldn’t work with it, couldn’t filter through it - your chest felt light it might explode.

Fifty-two million credits.

You wanted to sleep. You wanted to close your eyes and let everything wash away. You could wake up on your ship, somewhere nice, somewhere you could get a nice breakfast. Maybe you could even find a good cup of caf. You could have a great day, and this whole shitty situation would be a distant nightmare.

Maker, you would kill to just wake up from all of this. If you fucked this up, forget Fett, you would have three Mandalorians on your ass. And if they were anything like Fett…

This was so far out of your realm of expertise. Even the job you worked with Fett was only for a couple of hundred-thousand credits. The most money you had ever worked for - acquired, earned, stolen, it didn’t matter. It was for one million credits. It was the job you met Ives on, the one where she saved your life, taught you how to rob a bank.

It was a pretty large heists for you - all you had known was petty theft and maybe a break-in, and even that was extremely rare. An old contact reached out to you, said he was trying to build up a team that wouldn’t mind cutting a few corners, and you certainly could look the other way for a few credits.

And so could Ives. You met her on Daxan IV - all grey beskar with chunks and bits missing. Old scraps of other armor had been fused into her chest plate, and her cuisses over her thigh was scraped and dented. The only pop of color was a dark green cowl that hung over her helmet, and even that was dark.

You remember making a snide comment about her bowcaster, and you remember her quietly throwing back something just as crude about how many layers you were wearing. At the end of the day, when the guns were pointed at you, that bowcaster had saved your life - Ives had saved you.

She was calm and collected in a firefight, but couldn’t handle the finessing and haggling that came with bounty hunting. You were a smooth talker, you were proud of that, but staying cool in a firefight…

You just had different priorities. Ives and you became a team, reaching out when the other needed a right hand woman for a job.

And you were grateful - Ives’ jobs were always well paying, but they normally came with a catch. One job she brought you along for was connected to the Rebellion, so the Imps were on your ass for months, one job was screwing up the numbers on a Hutt accountant’s book, one job was literally just fucking arson. There was always something - you didn’t think that there’d be something on this job, that maybe this would be the most straightforward job Ives gave you.

Well, here was the fucking catch - here were multiple fucking catches.

“Any other way you can raise the stakes, Arrey?” You snarked. Your voice sounded strained and high pitched. Maker, you wanted to at least appear like you knew what you were doing.

Ives cocked her head to the side. “Not that I can think of… Unless you have something to add, Aeris?”

You felt as he shrugged. “That’s more than I even knew.” He laughed - something short and dry, more out of cruelty than of pure humor. “Can’t wait to hear the deats when I get back.”

“Back?” You asked a little too quickly. You hadn’t seen either of them in quite a long while, and it would make you feel a lot better if they were right behind you for this entire mediation.

You could feel the little breath he let out, the small huff that made his chest expand. “Job off planet, Coins.”

You poked his unarmored sides, and leaned your head against him. “Try not to be a dumbass and get yourself killed, Fenn.”

He poked your cheek. “Only for you, chakaar.”

Ives gave him a nod as he removed his arm from you - his hand grazed your shoulder for a moment before he gave a nod back. Aeris tugged his hood over himself, the red streaks of his helmet disappearing beneath the dark wool. He turned the corner, and-

He was gone, and it was just Ives and you.

You waited a minute. Two, three, the minutes slugged along as you just waited.

“What did you do to Fett?” Ives asked quietly.

You blinked. “I- I’m sorry?”

“Aeris was too busy looking down your shirt to notice - or, maybe he didn’t even care, but you look…”

She studied you for a second, then shrugged. “You look scared as shit.”

Boba Fett had reached out to you - he needed an expendable worm who could steal, who could handle cutting corners, yadda yadda, what else was new? It was the same job description and employer type. The only thing that was different was that your boss was covered in beskar.

Job went south almost immediately. Another one of Boba’s associates sold him out to a New Republic squadron - Boba was busy handling that, but you had found the credits stashed in the lower haul, and you dipped.

Only one escape pod on the small vessel - you did feel a little bad, but it was Fett. He would probably be fine.

It was only a few days before you heard that he was looking for you.

He apparently wasn’t that serious about finding you. If he really was serious about it, you would’ve been hunted down and killed already. You head on a stake, your body on a pyre, that sort of thing. Maybe you weren’t Fett’s top priority, but you weren’t going to give him easy access to…

Well, you.

“We, uh, met on a job - like you and me, but, um,” you paused. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell her that you ratted out a member of her Covert - the last thing you needed, or wanted, was to cause an issue with Ives. “It didn’t go very well…”

Ives let out a low hum. “I assume you’re the reason for that?”

“Wh- me?” You let out a dramatic gasp. “I’m hurt - for your information, I am not the reason the job didn’t go as planned.”

“Oh? So what’s the reason for you being terrified at the mention of Boba?” Ives put a hand on her hip. When all you did was shrug, she clicked her tongue.

“Well, hopefully he’s forgotten what you’ve done to him by now.”

“Does he- is Fett the forgetful type?” You asked, a glimmer of hope appearing in this ridiculously shitty situation.

She shrugged and gestured to the door to your side - it was rather simple and weathered. “For your sake, I hope so.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Ives, I don’t know-”

“Coins, listen-”

She took a step towards you and gripped your shoulder. She rested her head against yours, and as you peered into the inky visor, you almost felt calm. Like maybe, you weren’t quite alone.

“Hit the fob if there’s trouble, just like always,” she said softly. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need anything, but Djarin and Vizsla should be a buffer between Fett and, uh… you.”

You placed your hand on top of hers and gave a small smile. “Thank you, Ives.”

“You’ll be fine,” she nodded. “Now, go in there, and get your paycheck.”

You nodded and you stepped towards the door. Ives tapped in a short string of numbers on the keypad. The door slid up, the cool air from inside seeping out to meet you - it was tempting, but you couldn’t forget what else was in the room besides air conditioning.

You peered into the room - and inside were three Mandalorians, whose helmets all turned to look at you.

[bnhayyy]

The Call (8)

Chapter Title: Catalyst

Wordcount: 3.2k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: Ymir and Historia make a dangerous discovery.

Notes: I'm one day late in posting, but this is my response to day three of @mikannieweek ! The prompt was fight, so you best believe you're getting a fight. I know that neither Annie nor Mikasa actually appear in this chapter, but since it's very plot-relevant to the fic as a whole, which is very much a Mikannie fic, I say it counts. 

 Celadon is on vacation this week, so thank you to Rinky for betaing for me! Also, if you haven't already, you may want to read Caution and the Inverse before reading this chapter. It's a Yumihisu one-shot taking place in the same universe as The Call, and while it isn't necessary to understand this chapter, it does add some extra context.

Sleep was a tenuous thing for Historia. Sometimes she could get through the night just fine. Sometimes she would toss and turn, barely dozing off during the night and waking up to another morning where she'd have to put on a pleasant face and pretend that everything was fine.

The worst nights were the ones where she woke up screaming.

Sleeping with Ymir's arms wrapped around her helped keep the nightmares at bay. However, even she could not ward them off completely. There were still times when Historia woke up in the middle of the night with visions of Frieda screaming and snarling demons and shattered church windows flashing behind her eyes. In those horrible moments, the lie that was Krista Lenz felt like it was wrapped around her with the intent to suffocate rather than protect.

Ymir helped. But not even Ymir was truly invulnerable, for all that her strength and bravado tried to lull her into thinking she was. Historia had taken steps to protect her girlfriend after the encounter in the club. She had told the college that she was sick and holed up with Ymir in her apartment, where they had set up hidden cameras around the apartment building and made umpteen plans on what to do if the slayers broke in. Or if they forced them out. Or if they ambushed Ymir when she eventually went outside, because for all that Historia would be happy to make daily visits to the butcher's for the rest of her life if it meant keeping Ymir by her side, she knew that couldn't happen.

She couldn't even manage to keep her inside for two weeks.

Ten days. She only managed to remain inside for ten days, Ymir gradually growing more stir-crazy and Historia more anxious, before they broke. And it was all Historia's fault.

With the threat of the slayers breathing down their necks, the nightmares had increased. She had woken up screaming for seven of the past nine nights. When, on that tenth night, she woke up thrashing in Ymir's arms, concerned eyes staring down at her and the alarm clock on the nightstand reading three A.M., she finally gave in.

It was a short distance from her apartment to the river, and one of the few things that could reliably calm her nerves after an episode like that was going for a walk by the water. That evening, when Ymir caressed her hair and gently suggested that they go for a walk, Historia didn't have it in her to turn her down.

It was risky. There was a chance that one or both of the slayers would have found a reason to be by the river. However, Ymir swore up and down that Mikasa was almost always at the graveyard at three A.M. on weekdays and, Annie, who had been following her around like a cat with a mouse, would likely be there as well.

Historia still made Ymir check the cameras to make sure that the slayers weren't waiting for them outside the apartment. When she couldn't catch so much of as a glimpse of them, they set out.

Walking down the shoreline and breathing in the cool autumn night air, Historia couldn't say she regretted it.

Beside her, Ymir shoved her hands into pockets and glanced up at the sky. "So," she began, extending the word in a drawl. "Want to talk about it?"

Historia shrugged. "There isn't really much to talk about," she admitted. "I don't remember much of it. Just..." She swallowed down the lump in her throat and turned her head to look at the water. "Just that it was about Freida."

Nightmares about Freida weren't exactly uncommon. Most of them featured her in one way or another.

Silence hung over the pair for a long moment. It was broken by Ymir saying, "Well, if it helps at all, I think she'd be proud of you."

Historia glanced over at the vampire and raised an eyebrow. "You sound pretty confident for someone who never met her," she said.

There were many additional statements beyond that comment, things that she couldn't bear to delve into. Maybe someday she would. For now, however, she was content to act like they weren't even there.

Now it was Ymir's turn to shrug. "She sounds like she was the soft, sappy type," she said.

"As opposed to you," Historia countered.

" Exactly, " Ymir said. "You understand me so well, Historia! I really am going to need you to marry me one of these days." She shot her a wide, glowing grin and reached over to ruffle her hair. Historia ducked, but wasn't quick enough to avoid getting several locks of hair brushed out of place.

"Ymir," Historia groaned. Her girlfriend responded by lapsing into laughter, and a smile began to form on Historia's face in turn.

"What?" Ymir teased. "I can't help it if you're-"

Ymir froze, her grin faltering before fading away in place of pursed lips and narrowed eyes. She reached out and grabbed Historia's wrist not a second later.

"Ymir?" Historia whispered, her heart already beginning to quiver in her chest. She forced herself not to pay attention to it. If something was happening, then the last thing she needed to do was give in to panic and fear.

It was a good thing that she was already practiced at pushing those feelings down.

"There's someone up ahead," Ymir hissed.

"One of the slayers?" Historia asked.

She knew she was wrong even before Ymir responded. The gleam in her eyes, the tenseness in her muscles - neither of those things would be quite the same if it was the slayers. This was something that she thought might pose a threat to Historia. Then she slowly shook her head, and the confirmation came soon after.

"A vampire."

Historia nodded slowly. "Is it a stranger, or..."

Ymir took in a deep breath through her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment as she focused on the scent. When she opened them, there was a new fire blazing there. "You know him," she said. "I've caught his scent on your clothes before, when you come back from art class."

Art class? Historia didn't even have to stop and mentally run through the list of her classmates. Her mind immediately zeroed in on the immediate suspect, the vampire Ymir suspected of possessing the legendary gem of amara.

"Reiner," Historia breathed. 

Ymir stepped back and tugged on Historia's arm, gentle but insistent. "We should get out of here," she said.

Faintly, Historia realized that Ymir probably had the right idea. However, she could not deny the idea that was beginning to formulate within the depths of her mind... or the dull ache of anger behind the theory that fueled it.

"Wait," Historia said, voice pitching low. "I want to talk to him."

Ymir shot her a startled look. "Are you nuts?" she hissed. "Historia, I smell blood!"

"No," Historia said. "I have an idea."

Ymir hesitated. As she did so, Historia pulled her wrist out of her grasp, grabbed her hand, and looked into her eyes. "I trust you to protect me," she said. "Now trust me on this."

A long moment passed as Ymir stared at her. Finally, the vampire let out a long breath and nodded. "Alright," she said. "What's this plan of yours?"

Historia smiled. "Stay out of sight and follow my lead," she said. "I think it will become clear pretty quickly."

Ymir was once again reduced to staring at her in silence. For a moment, Historia worried that she might go back on her word. However, after a few heartbeats had passed, she nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

Historia offered a smile that was meant to reassure her girlfriend rather than express any of her own emotions. Then she resumed walking down the shoreline while Ymir wandered off to the side, disappearing into the darkness.

It wasn't long before a figure came into view. Historia slowed her breathing and stepped more carefully, as if her attempts to be quiet would be any real help against a vampire worth their salt.

Except Reiner didn't react as Historia drew closer. Eventually, she drew close enough to make out the shape of a body in the sand beside him, but Reiner didn't move a muscle. He was just standing there, staring out at the ocean. Historia furrowed her eyebrows. There was a chance that he was just faking her out, but she suspected that wasn't the case. She supposed that it might be in part due to the fact that the wind was blowing away from him and toward her. However, she also couldn't help but note that he seemed rather distracted.

Fine. She could use that to her advantage.

Historia drew even closer, drawing forward and closer to the river with each step. The patchy grass beneath her sandals eventually gave way to sand, automatically making her steps fractionally louder. It didn't matter. Reiner still didn't notice, a fact which became a little less surprising when she got close enough to realize that he was talking to himself. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she could see his lips move and make out the low, soft cadence of his voice.

More importantly, she could make out the body beside him. 

It was a dark-haired, pale-skinned woman who looked like she was in her early to mid-thirties. Historia didn't recognize her. She stared blankly for a few seconds, feeling next to nothing. There was a faint sense of sorrow that someone had died at all, but no true distress or grief over a random stranger. Historia knew all too well that people died all the time. If she cried over everyone who met an undeserving fate, she would never be able to stop.

Frieda would have cried. But Historia was no Frieda, no matter how hard she tried. 

So she stood there and stared for a few seconds. Then, steady and inevitable as the tide, her existing, tepid anger began to rise and grow into ice-cold fury. It probably wasn't fury for the right reason, but if the alternative was no strong feelings at all, she would take it. Especially considering what was at stake. 

Another person was dead. That would be another death that the slayers blamed Ymir for. Another reason for them to want her girlfriend dead.

Historia didn't have anything against Reiner. It was horrible that he was killing people, but frankly, as long as he didn't hurt anyone she cared about, she wasn't sure that she'd do anything about it. Reiner was pleasant company, and while she wouldn't help him, she wasn't going to risk the few things she had come to love to bring him to justice. But if it was between him and Ymir...

There weren't many things left that Historia loved in the world, and it had taken her a while to find them. But now that she had them, she wasn't going to let them go for anything.

So Historia plastered a concerned, fearful expression on her face and stepped up to the vampire. "Reiner!" she called. "What are you doing?"

Reiner jolted , and when he turned around, there was genuine surprise in his expression. "Krista," he said. "You're..." His gaze wandered over to the dead body beside him. "I didn't expect you to be here," he finished.

Here. Where he was dumping the body, he meant. Now that she looked, she could see weights attached to the body's hands and ankles.

The river was deep in places. If he handled this right, there was a good chance that the body would never be found again. Which explained where all the other bodies went. And oh, how much easier it became to let someone else take the blame for your crimes when there was no body to tie it back to you.

Not that Krista was supposed to catch on to all of that so quickly. Instead, she looked up at Reiner with large, watering eyes, and asked, "What is 'here'? Reiner, that's a body. We need to do something! We need to call the police or... or..."

She trailed off. Reiner was looking off to the side and running his hand through his hair, his jaw gritted and tension in his shoulders. It was probably safe for her to "realize" now.

"Did you do this?" Historia whispered, coaching her expression into one of dawning horror.

"Shit," Reiner said. "I'm sorry Krista. I didn't want you to get pulled into this."

A warm flame of vindictive triumph flickered in Historia's stomach as she took a step back and held a shaking hand up to her mouth. "Reiner, are you the one behind the disappearances?" she asked.

"Yeah," Reiner said, his expression hardening. "And I'm sorry, but I can't-"

He was cut off by someone fast enough to very nearly be a drill running up and punching him in the chest, sending him flying down the shoreline. "Thanks for the confession," Ymir snarled.

Reiner managed to land on his feet and was back upright in seconds. He looked at Historia, hard eyes meeting her flinty ones, before looking over at Ymir. "Ymir, I'm guessing."

"I'm surprised you didn't catch on," Ymir said, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought the slayers would have told you about us."

Reiner smiled unhappily. "The consensus is that Krista's being manipulated," he said.

"I'm not," Historia said, voice stony.

"Yeah," Reiner replied. "I'm getting that sense."

As Reiner began drawing closer, Ymir took a nigh-unnoticeable half-step back toward Historia and tapped her wrist. A sign to back off. Historia frowned, but reluctantly began stepping back, only stopping when she was several yards away from the other two. 

"What I'm wondering," Reiner continued as he took a slow step forward, voice level and suspicious, "is how you knew about me."

"You don't recognize me?" Ymir asked. Her eyes were gleaming the way they did when she was about to do something dangerous, and her feet shifted into a more solid fighting stance. "I'm surprised, seeing as I killed your friend and all. Marvel, or something?"

Reiner froze. A shadow fell over his face for half a second, then melted away as his eyes flashed yellow and his face morphed into the snarled visage as a vampire. "You're lying," he spat.

"You seem awfully upset, if I'm just supposed to be a liar," Ymir remarked.

"Marcel was killed by the slayer."

"Sorry to disappoint." Ymir shrugged. "But hey, he's gone and you're here, so I'd say it worked out pre-"

Reiner charged at her. Ymir lunged to the side but was unable to avoid his blow completely. She let out a hiss and staggered, knocked off-balance as his fist grazed her shoulder. Reiner swung around to aim a blow to her head, but Ymir quickly ducked, raising her arms and aiming a kick at his stomach.

But Reiner pulled his punch and grabbed Ymir's leg before she could make contact. Historia’s stomach wrenched at the sharp crack as Reiner pulled Ymir's leg in two directions. At the same time, Ymir twisted around to grab Reiner's shoulders and flipped herself up and out of his grasp. As she twisted, Historia noticed her grab a stake out of her back pocket.

Historia barely even had a moment to wonder at the fact that her vampire girlfriend was carrying around a stake before Ymir plunged the offending object into Reiner's back, right over his heart.

Reiner gasped and jerked forward.

Ymir pulled the stake out and took a step back.

He should have turned to dust. Instead, Historia watched as the hole in his back instantly closed, leaving only a hole in the back of his shirt.

Reiner took a few steps away from Ymir before turning around. There, the pair stared at each other for a long moment, Reiner's hand hovering over his heart and Ymir leaning heavily on one leg. Finally, Ymir's gaze flickered down to Reiner's hand. "Nice ring," she said. "Wonder how you'd fare against me without it."

"I don't plan on finding out," Reiner said, smiling grimly.

Reiner charged at Ymir, but she lunged forward and grappled him, pivoting on her uninjured leg and using his own momentum to fling him into the river. He hit the waves with a splash and sank like a rock, although Historia knew that it wouldn't keep him down for too long.

Ymir knew it too. She raced over to Historia, or at least, moved as fast as she could in her condition, and moved to pick her up.

Historia wriggled out of her girlfriend's grip and hissed, "Ymir, your leg!"

"Will heal no matter how badly I fuck it up," Ymir said. Historia might have even bought it if her gritted teeth didn't give away how much pain she was actually in. "But you-"

"-Can move faster than you right now," Historia interrupted. "Let's be smart about this." With that, she manhandled Ymir’s arm over her shoulders and all but dragged her girlfriend back up to the path. Once they were on even cement, she picked up the pace and began walking as fast as possible while aiding Ymir. 

For her part, Ymir was forced to slump and clearly reluctant to actually lean on her. However, once Historia started speeding up, she gave in and allowed her to bear some of her weight. Historia might have smiled if it weren't for the dire situation.

"Is he following us?" Historia asked.

"No,” Ymir said. "He isn't gonna. He still has to take care of the body. He's gone this long without a corpse being found, it'd mean a lot of trouble if one shows up now. Besides..." Ymir let out a pained laugh. "I staked him. He knows he’d be dead without that ring. He'd be an idiot not to let us get away."

Historia nodded and tried to swallow down her unease. She wasn't about to slow down and gamble on Reiner's willingness to let them escape, but it was good to know that she probably didn't have to worry about a furious vampire attacking them from behind. Even if there were what felt like a million other things that she did have to contend with. Such as...

"I'm sorry I got you hurt," Historia murmured. Since her car was now in sight, she allowed her gaze to drop for a moment before fixing it dead ahead once more.

Ymir laughed again, this time a little less pained and a lot more triumphant. "Hey, don't worry about it," she said. "What you got us is a lot more useful than an uninjured leg. Speaking of which... do you think you could get me a few phone numbers?"

Historia didn't even need to think about it. Being Krista Lenz, warm, kind, and so very involved with her school, came with a lot of benefits. However, she did pause as she led Ymir over to the passenger side door. Once her girlfriend was secure, she walked around to the driver's seat and climbed in. As she buckled her seatbelt and put the key in the ignition, she said, "Of course."

"Good," Ymir replied. A grim smile spread across her lips. "It's about time Ackerman and her friends found out who they're dealing with."

[sevfanfic]

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 5: Jar of Stars

Word count: 1,545 

Classes began and the castle was filled with the constant buzz of life. The first few days were very hectic as students got settled but you were able to manage everything on your plate. You found yourself searching for Severus among the crowds often and when you exchanged glances you smiled at him and he would grin softly for a moment then return his face to it’s usual look. One morning you decided to sit next to him at breakfast.

“Good morning, professor.” 

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” 

You watched as students filled the large dining hall. A frown fell over Severus’ face as he watched the children, he couldn’t help but show his dislike of the dunderheads.

“You don’t like children very much, do you?” You laughed. 

“I tolerate them.” He chose his words carefully. 

“What are you going to do if you ever have your own?” The question slipped before you could think about what you were asking. He looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“The thought never crossed my mind.” He spoke quietly. Maybe having a family was possible for him but the idea of it seemed very distant. 

You looked away feeling embarrassed about asking such a personal question. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of breakfast, you smiled and gave him a friendly nod goodbye when it was time for classes to begin. Your students had already been sitting in your classroom when you arrived. Classes went by quickly but during one of the last classes of the day, a 5th year slytherin student was being difficult. 

“Please keep the chatter down.” You raised your voice, targeting the students in the back row. The boy who had been talking during your class looked at you and rolled his eyes, he continued to talk with his friend. You made your way down the middle aisle and placed both hands on the edge of his desk.

“I know you don’t care about listening but others do. So either stop talking or you can leave.” 

“Why would I care about what you have to say?” He spoke with a spiteful tone.

“Because I can make things very difficult for you,” you smiled at him, hoping that he’d back down, “so make your choice.” 

“I’ll leave,” The boy began gathering his things and mumbled to himself “bloody creature of dirt.”

“Alright, please report to your head of house for detention tomorrow.” You walked back to the front of the class not letting the insults bother you, “Now where were we.” 

After finishing the lecture you walked to Severus’ office hoping to find him available to talk to. You knocked lightly on the door and heard him speak to enter. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” he looked up from his papers for a moment and then quickly returned to what he was doing, “what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could ask for advice?” You walked hesitantly toward the large desk. Severus didn’t look up.

“Yes?”

“Is it… Petty of me to give a student detention in the first week of school?” 

“No, presumably they deserve it?” He looked up with a raised brow.

“Yes, well I believe so. He called me a ‘creature of dirt’ but-”

“He deserves far worse than detention,” he looked furious, “who was the mongrel that called you that?” 

“Vincent Blythe.” 

“If that dunderhead has any ounce of self preservation he’ll never use such terms again after I’m done with him.” Severus looked back down at his work. He knew that the boy was referring to you as a mudblood. He hated the word and felt that it had caused too much damage to this world because of those who stood by it’s flawed ideology. You were impressed by the amount of rage that emanated from the man that sat in front of you.

“I hope you understand that you are not-” he paused and waved his hand as if bating away his disgust, “-not a ‘creature of dirt’.” He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I know, it doesn’t bother me.” You paused. “One other thing,” you stepped closer to his desk, “I’ve been practicing some non-verbal spells and I’ve hit a road-block.” Severus looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. “I spoke with Flitwick but I am more confused now than I was before.” 

“Non-verbal magic is an advanced form of magic, it takes years to master. It may be too advanced for you.” He spoke cautiously.

“I can do it,” you stood tall in defense, “I just need a little help, that’s all.” 

“Very well,” Severus smirked and stood from his desk, “show me what you can do so far.”

You spent most of the evening with Severus practicing new spells. He admired your eagerness to learn and how much you improved in that short period of time. Watching you warmed his heart and he was eager to have more moments like this. He noticed how you nibbled your bottom lip when you were trying to concentrate and how excited you got when you were successful.  Soon it was time for dinner, you thanked Severus for the small lesson and when you turned to leave he stopped you.

“Come back tomorrow after dinner, I’ll be able to help you more.” He gave you a small smile and you nodded with delight.

Your meetings with Severus in his office became a habit. The two of you usually sat in his office working silently on grading papers and quizzes for about an hour. After that he began his lessons on non-verbal magic. You listened intently to every word hoping to one day be as talented as he was. At times you’d go off on long rants about your students and random ideas. Severus always listened patiently. He didn’t mind that you got distracted easily, he enjoyed hearing your thoughts.

“Focus, you need to clear your mind and visualize the spell.” Severus spoke with a stern tone. You furrowed your brow trying to do as you were told. You struggled with clearing your mind completely but each time you attempted you did better. You visualized the spell and soon you could feel the magic tingling at your fingertips. The feather you had been staring at began to float. Then you tried a different spell and the edges of the feather began to burn and it disappeared in a poof of smoke. 

“I think I get it now.” You beamed at the tall man who looked amused. You had spent many evenings practicing and you felt confident in your new abilities. 

“Good,” he turned and went to the closet at the back of his room. He searched for a moment and then produced a small jar, “this is for you.” He spoke in a low voice, almost mumbling.  

Inside the glass jar was a dark liquid. He handed it to you and when you touched it small particles of light began to shimmer as they floated in a dance-like pattern. It resembled fireflies and stars. You smiled in amazement.

“It’s so beautiful, what is it?” You held the jar close to your face examining its contents.

“It’s a potion that is meant to resemble the night sky, if brewed correctly it will also display the current phase of the moon.” He waved his hand over the glass and you watched as a small moon appeared amidst the dark fluid. One lazy day he had been thinking about the night you stood with him in the tower and how peaceful you looked gazing at the night sky. During one of your side tracked conversations you mentioned how much you loved the stars and moon. You described how as a child you dreamed of becoming an astronaut and you thought Severus wasn’t listening but he was. He paid attention to every detail because he wanted to know you. 

“It’s amazing,” you looked at Severus, “thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me.” You wanted to hug the man in front of you but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate it. So you held the jar against your chest, close to your heart. 

Watching you smile and hold his gift close made Severus melt, he felt his heart grow warm and he revealed a small smile. 

After realizing you had been standing there staring at each other for what seemed like hours, you awkwardly spoke, “It's getting late, I should go.” Severus watched as you gathered your stuff and fumbled with your books. Suddenly, words blurted from his mouth before he could even realize he was speaking. 

“Have dinner with me.” He watched you intently, hoping to glean an idea of what you were thinking.

“Like a date?” You spoke slowly.

“I suppose,” he muttered, “If that’s alright with you?” Severus was genuinely nervous about what you would say.

“Yes, that’s alright with me.” 

“Good,” he could see your cheeks brighten from across the room, “have a good night, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Goodnight, Professor.”

When in the hall you brought a hand to your cheek hoping to cool the redness. He made you feel like there was fire under your skin and it fueled your ever growing attraction. 

[punkcupcakestyles]

Sober up

So, quick note: I wrote this for the pypfc that the absolute babes @oh-honey-styles​ and @for-fucks-sake-h​ put together. I hope you enjoy it. 

Part 1

If someone were to ask, there was a lot of alcohol involved. A lot. 

It was too late to pretend it was never your intention. 

It was just that your courage tasted like margaritas. 

***

Harry was an asshole, everyone knew that. He was one of those pretty assholes, with the sweet smile, which made it hard to hate him, but, oh, you tried. 

It didn’t always work, but you tried. 

It’s what matters, isn’t it?

The night when it all began, it was unseasonably warm, and you stepped out of the crowded house to take a break before you could sweat...more. It had been a good idea to wear a dress, cause the light breeze was easing out the warmth of your skin.

You felt relaxed for the first time that night. 

The porch was empty and quiet, which was just what you were looking for: A moment of silence to break the noise. You were settling in, even stepping out of your high heels to feel the cold floor under your feet, when the door suddenly swung open behind you. You turned around, startled by the loud music that was booming inside. Harry didn’t see you, or better yet, he chose to ignore you, as he walked out of the house, carefully holding the waist of a blonde girl as she stumbled on her own feet. 

Tipsy would be an understatement. 

You looked at him carefully, crossing your arms over your chest, as you watched the way he softly guided her out of the house. It was truly a sight to be seen, the girl kept giggling and trying to get out of his hold, as she kept grabbing at him, his shirt, his hair, whatever she could reach. She smiled drunkenly at him and he whispered soft words at her that you couldn’t hear. 

A mocking smile curled up the corner of your lips as your eyes followed him, seeing as Harry helped the girl climb into an Uber and waited for her to leave. 

“Awww, poor baby...are you losing your charm?” You bit as he walked towards you. He was wearing a red worn-out flannel shirt, with a white graphic tee underneath. His black jeans were sinfully tight.

“Wanna find out?” He smirked, brushing off your words as easily as they slipped out of your lips. 

“Thank you, wouldn’t want to catch something,” you said, to his amusement and your disappointment. 

“Or have any fun, that wouldn’t be like you.”

It had been like this for a while, ever since you met him, when he stole your morning coffee cup from you, shamelessly. He kept denying it, though, saying it was you who wanted to steal his much needed coffee before an early lit class. How cruel could you be?

He was a pest, a literal one. You would compare him to a moth if anyone were to ask, but in reality, he was more like some source of light where all the girls gravitated to. All the boys as well. 

Everyone but you.  

He stood next to you, leaning on the handrail as he looked at the empty street. He smelled a bit of soap and a citric perfume, and a bit of spilled vodka and lime. He flashed you a smile, an obnoxious one that let you know he was looking for a reaction from you. You held your breath, still refusing to be the first to give in. 

“Why aren’t you inside?” He asked after a few seconds of silence, and you noticed how his curls bounced a little bit as he suddenly turned to look at you with curiosity shining in his big, bright, green eyes. 

“It was hot. And I don’t know where my boyfriend is,” you mumbled.

He chuckled at this, that kind of low and dry laughter that comes with bad news. You breathed in slowly, letting the sudden dreadful feeling take over your chest. Bad news were indeed coming, you could feel it in your aching bones. 

“What?” you snapped. 

“Nothin’”

“You’re an idiot, did you know that?” You tore yourself away from the handrails, ready to get the hell out of there. Away from Harry and the intense way he always made you feel.

But Harry stopped you in your tracks, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you closer to his chest. The sudden movement made you crash against him, and your eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at you with that stupid smile of his. 

“What?!”

“Your boyfriend’s fucking his best friend. That’s why you can’t find him.”

The words had barely registered in your brain, but you were ready to fight them. Your hand went to his chest and you pushed him away until you were free of his touch. You could feel the rage boiling in your veins, but all that fire could only be aimed at Harry, he could handle it, he deserved it. 

“Oh, that’s pathetic, Harry, lying like that!”

“Why would I do that?”

“Cause he’s a good guy, unlike you!”

“He’s not that different from the guy you think I am,” he replied, calm and softly, as if you were a wounded animal and he was afraid that you would attack him. Easy, slowly, quietly, that was the best way to approach you.  

“Of course he is!!!”

“Look, I know you cannot be a very good fuck, so I get it,” he sighed as if he regretted saying anything at all. “But he’s cheating on you with his best friend. I’ve seen them. Been meaning to tell you.”

“Margaret has a boyfriend, she’s gonna get married,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in a victory gesture. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. 

“I never said it was a girl.”

***

It wasn’t with a girl. 

It was his best friend David. 

He was prettier than you, you would give him that.

And even though the realization didn’t come as hurtful as expected, days of torment came ahead. The most annoying thing was the fact that people looked at you as if you were stupid, worthy of pity. You hated the fact that everyone was treating you as if you were made of glass and could break apart if someone held you too hard. 

Everyone but Harry. 

He kept treating you like he usually did; like you bored him to death. His disinterested glare would follow you from time to time, as he bit the side of his cheek, which made his jawline pop even more, maybe waiting for you to fuck up. 

He was fucking obnoxious. 

***

If anything, going out that night had been a bad idea. Your head was fuzzy, maybe from all of the margaritas you’ve had. It was cheap alcohol, so you could only expect a massive headache. 

Once again, you found yourself at the porch, witnessing how Harry helped a brunette get inside a car. He kept his head low, maybe hoping you hadn’t noticed it was him. But you noticed, and you had to let him know. It was the least he deserved. 

“Do you think,” you started to ask as he walked by you on his way to the house. “they know you are a bad fuck and that’s why they’re running away? Cause, dude, something is going on...”

It caught his attention, no doubt, and Harry turned on his heels, walking menacingly towards you. He was taller than you, so when he stood in front of you, it almost felt like you should take a step back. Or maybe two. 

“Do you really think I’m a bad fuck?” He whispered and his voice made you shiver. It wasn’t fear what you were feeling, not quite. It was a new type of excitement, one that only grew as you stare into his eyes and his lips curled into a mocking smile. 

“I bet you are,” you whispered back, hoping to get a reaction out of him. You just didn’t know what you were expecting. 

“Why does it sound like you want to find out?” He cocked his head, still staring into your eyes. He was definitely amused.

“Nah, I’m good with disappointments.”

He took one step closer.

“Are you sure?”

You could feel his warm breath fanning over your skin and the electricity that was scrambling up to his skin. It almost felt like the world had stopped, leaving only and Harry to slowly burn under each other’s stare.

You gulped. Maybe you weren’t so sure after all. Not sure at all.

“What if I’m not?”

Your words were barely a whisper, fueled by your heart beating so hard that it was pressing against your neck. You had no idea where this was coming from, but you felt a sudden urgency to know what his lips tasted like. 

“I knew you liked me,” he smirked before turning around to enter the house. 

***

Every effort you had made to avoid him came to a violent end.

There you were, stuck in his car while he drove you to God knows where. 

You peered up to him, noticing how he bobbed his head to the rhythm of Fame by David Bowie. His two fingers drummed over the steering wheel, and he hummed lightly, focusing on the road ahead of him. He was wearing a green snapback backward, that crushed his curls and a black plaid shirt, that he was wearing unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

“Don’t pout,” he said when his eyes met yours, and you quickly looked away, suddenly interested in the dust that covered the road. Where the fuck was that party?

It was supposed to be a week getaway, now that your days as a college student where officially running out. Alcohol, party, guilt-free junk food and sex...for those who had someone to fuck. 

No orgies were allowed. That would make it weird. 

The thought occurred to you and you briskly looked at Harry, narrowing your eyes as you saw him smiling. 

“Why didn’t you bring anyone?” You asked and he shrugged, still looking ahead at the road.

“Who would I bring?”

“I dunno, one of your many girls. You must have a list.”

“Didn’t have time to pick anyone up, you don’t know how to fix your bloody car.” 

His accent did things to you when it got rough. 

Not that you would ever admit it. 

“You could’ve left me there. I would’ve called an Uber.”

“Yeah, and then you would’ve told everyone I was an asshole.”

“Oh, I always say that about you. It wouldn’t make a difference,” you smirked, giggling a bit as he turned to glare at you. “And I don’t know how to fix my car cause Andrew always did that for me.”

Harry switched on his seat and his face turned somber, almost uncomfortable, which made you feel bad for some reason. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Were you...did you...fuck!”

“Am I dying of a broken heart?” you helped him. “No, I just wanted an explanation, y’know?”

“Of course you did,” he snorted, and his smile came back as he shook his head in half-surprise. “You would want an explanation so you could tell him his explanation was idiotic.” You tipped your head, looking as his smile as he slowly turned around to look at you once more. “I knew you’d be alright, I should’ve told you earlier.”

“I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“I know, that’s what lets me sleep at night,” he said softly, as his lips curled into a half-smirk. 

It felt weird, to be in a car with him without going at each other’s throats. You were natural enemies, like cats and dogs, or some guys and showers. There was no need (or way) to explain the animosity between you two. It was something you could always count on. 

You closed your eyes, sighing aimlessly as he drove around, as a subtle way to let him you were done with this conversation. And every other that could follow it. 

Talking to Harry made all of the feelings come back, made you feel warm and your skin prickled with something that could only be described as excitement. It made you feel giddy. 

You had realized that years ago. You had never even tried to understand it. 

You opened your eyes again when the car came to a full stop, and Harry parked in front of a huge white house. The air felt salty and the music coming from the house was so loud it made you wince a little bit. It took you a bit to gather your bits, and you slowly stepped out of the car as Harry got all your things from the back of it. Leaning on the car, you waited for him until he stood in front of you. 

“Ready?” You asked him, not even pretending that you were gonna help him carry shit. 

He looked at the house and peered at you again as if he was deciding whether he was ready to go in. You looked at him, as his eyes traveled from your eyes to your mouth, and that same electricity took over the air, the same anticipation that almost made you lick your lips. “What?” You mumbled as he stepped so close that he was all you could see. 

“Shhh…Before we get drunk,” was all he said before he pressed his soft mouth to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes fluttered close, shivering as his fingertips pressed to your ticklish neck. It was a soft kiss, a slow one, as he was getting to know you, exploring every second of your reaction. His hand dropped to the curve of your waist, and he pushed you against the car, trapping you between his arms. It wasn’t like you were going anywhere. Not even the thought of fighting him had crossed your mind. Your own hands held to him, slowly grazing over his muscles as you brought them to his shoulders. 

Curiosity was burning in your tummy. It all made sense, all was right. 

He was right, kissing him while you were both drunk would’ve been a waste of a wonderful opportunity. His lips were sweet and soft, and the weight of his body pressing down to yours felt heavenly. Your body molded to his and your heart pumped almost expectantly as he tipped your head just slightly, so he could deepen the kiss. Slowly, you parted your lips for him, moaning as he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth. 

A loud crash came from the house, and you both broke the kiss, staring at it as you expected it to blow into a billion pieces. But it remained standing, a loud curse filling the air, followed by a million cheers. The party had indeed started. 

Your eyes traveled to Harry before he turned around, wondering if it had all been a dream. Deep down, you had always wondered how it would be to kiss him. It was better than you could ever imagine. 

Why did you hate him again?

***

The rules of the house were quite simple: If you were single, you were fair game. People could hit on you. Things could happen. 

You had never really thought about it, never had to. That’s what Andrew was for, to shield you from the bitter breath of drunk boys while they tried to convince you to fuck them. 

But now that Andrew was out of the picture, it almost seemed like you had a sign on your head that reads “offer to fuck me. I’m open”. So boys kept droning around you, and your veins were already buzzing from all the alcohol they had offered you. 

If only you could take your eyes off of Harry. He had decided to ignore you most of the afternoon, spending his time with his friends by the pool, smiling at girls that kept stumbling his way, as if he were a fucking magnet and they had no other choice. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, even though you tried to keep your distance, staying by the kitchen and only coming out when it was strictly necessary. 

His skin was almost golden now, and his muscles glistened with droplets of water as he entered the house. His eyes fell on you, and he rolled them as he saw Baz standing next to you, smiling almost lustfully as he leaned in closer and offering you another drink that you subtly left aside. Still, Harry made his way to the kitchen, standing right behind you as he pretended to be looking for a glass. 

“So,” Bas dragged and you realized it was fucking hard to focus on him when Harry was near. “What do you say?” He asked and even though you had no idea what he was talking about, you nodded, out of politeness. His smile spread wide and you looked at him as he left, with a triumphant air on his step. 

“You’re not going up to his room, right? He’s looking for condoms, the twat,” Harry spoke as soon as you were alone and you narrowed your eyes as you looked at him. His jaw was locked and he pushed his bottom lip out, biting on the sides of it as he shook his head lightly. 

“What if I do?” You asked as coolly as you could. Your hands found the edge of the counter behind me and you leaned against it as you tried to copy his usual cool demeanor. As if the world didn’t matter. As if he already owned it. You realized now what you had agreed to. The answer was no, you weren’t going anywhere with Bas, but it wasn’t Harry’s problem. “You’re always saying I am no fun.”

“There are better ways to have fun…” One step closer was all it took for him to take your breath away. Your will quivered under his smile, as he looked down at you and his warm breath fanned over your skin. “Don’t you think?” He whispered and he was made out of trouble. You should stay away from him. 

“Someone could say you’re offering to fuck me.”

“What if I am?” He shrugged, placing the glass he was holding onto the counter right next to you. It was enough to raise goosebumps on your arms. 

He didn’t let you answer. It was probably going to be something stupid, a jab you didn’t mean, you both knew that. So you allowed his fingers to lace with yours, and you followed him as he made his way to the tiny bathroom by the kitchen. 

People could see you, you were aware of that, but they were probably too wasted to care, or What exactly were you doing, following him while your whole body burned in anticipation? Adding your name to an already long list of names?

That was not a question you had an answer for, and you didn’t care much about it. Whatever it was that you were doing, felt like the right choice. 

You would worry about the consequences later. 

His hands are on your body as soon as the door closes behind you, but this time it doesn’t catch you by surprise. You were expecting it, craving him. 

He was shirtless, so there was nothing to hold on to but his skin, so your fingers grazed over his smooth chest and pressed them to his neck as his hot mouth pressed to yours. He tasted like gin and beer and a little bit of weed. His hands settled on your bum, pulling you closer to him until you had no other choice but to wrap your leg around his hips to give yourself some balance. 

Your fingers pushed into his hair and you pulled on his curls, making him moan lightly as his fingers dug into the meaty flesh of your curves. His lips were soon leaving yours and he trailed heavy, wet kisses on your jawline, traveling down your neck at the same time his fingers snuck under the fabric of your cotton blue skirt. 

It felt natural, as natural as hating him felt. 

You sucked in air as his fingertips brushed over the hem of your panties, and his teeth grazed over the sweet spot below your ear, right where your pulse was beating wildly. 

His touch was ticklish, exciting, something new. Your hands fell on his shoulders and pressed lightly to them as he continued to make his way down your body. He kissed whatever sliver of skin he could find, pushing your shirt up so he could suck on the swell of your breasts and humming as he crouched in front of you, which made your feet fall back on the floor and caused you to stumbled a little. 

Your eyes met as he knotted the waistline of your undies in his fingers, pushing it down until they were pooling around your feet. It made your tummy bubble in excitement and your bottom lip rolled into your mouth as you saw him kiss the upper part of your thighs. 

He was taking his sweet time, pressing soft kisses to your hips and your thighs, until you moaned in exasperation, almost begging him to do something before you lost your mind. 

None of you had said a word since you entered the bathroom, and you weren’t going to be the first one to talk. It might break the spell. It might bring you back to reality, and force you to run out of there. Away from him and whatever feeling that was throbbing in your lower tummy. 

“Fuck,” the word escaped your lips before you could even think it through, as Harry bit lightly on your thigh, and his finger slid to your clit to massage it softly. 

You could feel his smirk against your skin. 

“Look at me,” he commanded, right before his tongue slid between your folds. You did, you looked at him as he licked from your center to your clit, forcing yourself not to close your eyes out of pleasure when he wrapped his lips around the pink little bud and sucked lightly on it.

It sent shivers up your body and you had to bite your bottom lip just to hold your moan down. He smirked against you, letting your clit go so he could lick the wetness that was already dripping on your center. His breath swirled on hot puffs of air against you, as he worked on you, licking and sucking like you were the most delicious dessert.

Your leg hooked around his shoulder and both of his arms wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer as he went back to suck and flick on your clit with the tip of his tongue. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before, he wanted to taste every inch of you, his tongue lapped deliciously against your folds and your knees felt weak, maybe because your legs were shivering with every new movement of his tongue. 

You couldn’t bear it anymore and your fingers tangled on his hair to keep his head still as your hips rocked against his face. It was slow, cause you wanted to enjoy the feeling of his tongue sliding between your folds. Every now and then, he would stop you, so he could suck and kiss on your clit. 

“Fuck!!”

It doesn’t take you long to feel how your walls start to tighten and clench with every new lap of Harry’s tongue. The bubble of bliss in your tummy burst and you pulled hard on his hair as the world blurred at his edges and your tummy trembled with the euphoria of your high.  

Harry’s breath was rough as he forced his forehead to yours and you pressed your fingers to his cheek, feeling his flustered skin before you kissed him. 

“You don’t hate me so much now, do you?” He smirked against your lips. 

“It was a one time only. Don’t get excited.”

***

It wasn’t a one time only. You fucked that very night, in the darkness of his room, with his hand on your mouth so your loud moans wouldn’t alert anyone. You rode him, enjoying the way his thick cock would burn slightly every time you took him all in. He bit your chest and sucked on your tits, leaving faded marks that you had to hide for at least a week. 

You also fucked in the morning, this time in your room, before everyone woke up. Something good had to come up out of your breakup with Andrew, and you had a room all to yourself. It was lazy and slow, and you kissed sweetly, while your arms were wrapped around his neck and your legs were hooked around his hips. 

It was a week thing only, you swore to yourself. 

***

“I don’t wanna go,” he mumbled against the pillows, his eyes close stubbornly as you turned to look at him. 

4 months had gone by since that party. You were clearly not very good at keeping your promises. 

“Harry,” you whispered, even though you weren’t actually sure if you wanted him to go. “They’ll find out.”

It was the very first time he had spent the night, the whole night, in your bed. You hadn’t even had sex. You were on your period and he came to your door, looking like a capeless hero as he held a bag full of goodies: Ice-cream, chocolate, Nutella, cheese puffs, everything you swore you could never eat, but craved when you were on your days. You spent the night watching Netflix and actually chilling, which was weird enough. 

It wasn’t something you usually did, but he had a cold and wanted to be coddled. So, why not?

“Let’em.”

You still hadn’t told anyone. You weren’t sure how to bring the subject up to your friends. “Hey, remember how I always said that Harry was an asshole and probably had a small dick? Yeah, I’ve sucked him off. Great fuck,” didn’t seem like something you would say. 

Your nose bumped against his, and you pulled your hand out of the warm of your covers to press your fingers to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before you closed your eyes again. 

There was no use in fighting him. 

He usually won. 

***

“I think you should leave through the window,” you stated later that morning, looking at a blank point on the wall. Anything to avoid looking at him. It was harder when you saw him leave. 

“Are you mad? We’re on a second floor!” He asked you, barely able to hold himself up as he was putting on his jeans. His accent was thick and almost dripping with honey. There were very few instances where his accent got rough, which was a shame, cause it made your knees weak. When he was fucking you, deep and slow and your fingers pulled on his hair or your walls clenched around his cock, that’s when his accent came out.

“There’s people downstairs, Harry,” you insisted, even though your tummy twisted in a knot at the thought of him hurting himself because of you.

“We’ll tell them we were studying.”

“They won’t believe it.”

“Then let’em believe whatever the fuck they want,” Harry said, suddenly serious as he stared at you.

“They’ll believe we’re fucking! They don’t need to know that!!”

“Are you...Are you ashamed of me??” He laughed in disbelief, and you felt your face flare up as your eyes went to focus on a loose thread on your covers. 

“You’re not the type of guy I usually date, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry I’m not a closeted gay, babe. Or a stuck-up-horse-riding club boy.”

Your eyes snapped at him, but it was too late. He was already gone. 

***

You had no right to be mad, you knew that much. 

But still, your blood was raging. 

He was sweaty, all of you were. It was one of those stupid competitions that your friend Rose would put together from time to time. ‘Let’s play volleyball, even though none of us really knows how to!” “Let’s run stupidly around campus!” “Let’s all train for a 10k!” 

You couldn’t stop looking at him, the way his tattooed chest glistened and his golden skin were taut around his muscles. He was wearing a pair of white running shorts and that stupid green snapback and his curls were poking out of it as if they were screaming for help. It was the first time you saw him, since that morning in your room, and he looked fucking good.  

As soon as the race was over, the boys had decided to get drunk, and you all followed them to someone’s house, so you could all enjoy the sunny day, without running your lungs out. You were all aware that it defeated Rose’s efforts to keep you fit, but you didn’t care much about it. 

And now, the day was giving in to the night, and you all had had too much to drink. Everyone but you. All you cared about was Harry and the way kept flirting with the blonde girl that sat next to him. 

You couldn’t blame him, she was fucking hot, sporting black shorts and a red sports bra that barely did anything to cover her poking nipples. You would’ve been flirting with her too if you could. 

She put a hand on his leg and leaned over as if to tell him a secret and you almost growled, spreading your palms over the table as you looked carefully at them. You couldn’t stop, and you wished you could say you didn’t care. But you cared, more increasingly as the days went by, and right now you felt like your heart was racing in your chest, preparing itself for the moment it had to break. 

He looked at her, with his eyes half-closed, and allowed her as she leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him, hitching her hand closer to his bulge as he kissed her back. 

Your heart didn’t break, it just stopped, it stopped beating and you stopped breathing. You could feel it cracking in your chest, and you could do was stand there and stare at them. 

The girl giggled as she broke the kiss apart and Harry smiled lazily at her, telling her something before he got up from the couch to walk to the kitchen, holding some red plastic cup in his hands. 

He stopped dead in his steps as he saw you, and his eyes went wide as he realized what had happened. Any haziness in his face went away and he stepped towards you, placing the cup on the counter as you recoiled back, trying to look busy in the empty kitchen. 

“Babe…”

“That’s not my name,” you whispered, biting into the corner of your lips as you looked away from him. You were ready to leave. You picked up your gym bag from the floor and tossed it over your shoulder. “And s’not any of my business, Harry. Go ahead, have fun.”

“Don’t leave, please.”

“Why? Do you want me to go upstairs and watch you two fuck?”

“Don’t…don't blame this all on me. Don’t be unfair.”

“Oh, no, you’re right, Harry. I should blame myself”

“You’re the one that doesn’t want anyone to know!!” He insisted and you looked at him with rage firing in your eyes. “I was just…I shouldn’t have kissed her. I’m just...a bit drunk...”

“I don’t need to know, Harry. Let’s go back to what it was, hating each other was easier.”

“You don’t hate me,” he whispered as he grabbed your arm, stopping you before you could leave.

“I do.”

“Oh, I don’t know. If you hated me, you wouldn’t scream my name so loud when I’m fucking you.”

“Fuck off, we’re done.”

[drreidfics]

Dr. Reid and the Broken Girl pt1.

DR. REID AND THE BROKEN GIRL (Working Title)

Characters : SpencerReid x FemReader

Warnings : Abuse, Hints of Self Harm.

CAUTION // TW // THIS BOOK DEALS WITH MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, SEXUAL ASSULT, SELF HARM, MENTAL ILLNESS AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. IT ALSO INCLUDES A LOT OF RATED-R MATERIAL. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ.

Here I am again, on the floor, begging him to stop. There he is again, laughing at my pleas and forcing himself inside of me. Almost every night he climbs into my bed, then in the morning, he pretends everything is normal. When anyone is around, he acts charming. He is able to trick everyone into thinking everything is fine. Well, it's not.

My phone buzzed to life at the side of me. The alarm was going off but I had been up for hours, staring at the flecks of dust dancing around the air. The sunlight streamed in through my thin, white drapes. It was beautiful out. It was the middle of May and bound to be hot out in Arizona. I could feel the warmth on my skin already. I needed to shower and get all this sticky sweat off my skin. It wasn't even mine. I felt disgusting. His touch lingered everywhere on me. The bruises he gave me stained my skin more than the self inflicted cuts.

'Morning Ms. y/l/n. Last night was lovely. See you at lunch?'. It was a text from Mr Reid. He was my psychology professor. Older than me, at thirty, he had long dark hair and deep brown eyes. His hair curled slightly at the end. He was tall and slim. Smart and nerdy, having two degrees and a doctorate, he left his job at the FBI for something less mentally draining. He had worked there since he was twenty-two.  I was twenty-one making our age gap quite small. Look at me, trying to convince myself that it even mattered. He was a lovely guy. Friendly, and handsome. He wouldn't fall in love with a student, and if he did, that student would never be me. He was too smart for that.

"Morning Dr. Reid. Thank-you for taking me. It was a fun eve! Yes, see you at lunch. We can have a chat about the stuff we saw yesterday =)". I read the message over and over again before hitting send. I was nervous as I usually always say stupid things. My low self esteem affected me very much. I was twenty-one, already with one degree and going back to do another. I was still living at Sharon's and I haven't had a boyfriend. He texted me back instantly.

"Can't wait! Need a lift to school? =)" I smiled down at my battered iPhone 6. I couldn't afford a brand new phone. I was lucky in that I only had to work a few hours a week at the local book store and that it was something I enjoyed doing. Sharon was good to me. She helped me pay for and make my way through college. I don't know what or where I would be without her. On the other hand, she brought the human spawn of the devil into my life.

"No thnx, Luna is picking me up =)" I sent but then instantly regretted it. I love my best friend but I would have preferred a ride with Dr. Reid. Our conversations were always interesting and insightful. We could talk about a wide range of subjects for hours and it would only feel like minutes passed.

"Ok, see u soon Y/N"

I smiled, almost forgetting my problems before catching glimpse of myself in the mirror. My fragile, battered body stared back. I sighed. He could never find a girl like me attractive. Not that it mattered anyway. Silly little girl crush.

After debating whether it was best to just find the nearest bridge in town and throw my self off or get ready for school (I am very mentally unwell), I decided on the latter. Luna had already texted me to inform me that she was about to set off. Knowing Luna, which I have had the pleasure of knowing for fifteen years (no sarcasm in there), ten minutes would be ten years.

I staggered down the dreaded stairs, almost losing my footing a few times, feeling light headed. I entered the brightly lit kitchen. It was so bright that I could feel an aching behind my eyes. The decor was simplistic, all white with gold features. Classic business mom who is never home asthetic going on.

       Sharon sat at the island, face absorbed in her laptop. She was in her late forties with short, mousey hair. I believe she would be referred to as a 'Karen'. She looked nothing like Dom. She was short, like me, and fairly slim. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders. Quarterback star player with the strength to show for it. He could snap us both in half. Dominic is Sharon's only child. Yes, that is correct. She is not my mum. I lost her.

Sharon looked up at me, flashing me a warm smile, still bashing the keys to her MacBook. She took a sip of her black coffee, nibbling on some cold toast. "You look like shit" she stated; matter of factly, her face blank.   '"Thanks?'" I answered with a raised eyebrow. I walked over to the coffee machine and put in a pod, sticking my travel cup underneath. 77Kcals of goodness. All the fuel I will need this morning. "Sweetheart, don't act like that. You know I'm just saying. You need to sleep more" '"I know" I sighed. It was true... "But that makes two of us" I retorted cheekily with a grin.        "Oh sweetheart, don't I know it" she raised her cup as if toasting the comment before gulping the last bit of coffee.

Sharon was my guardian, though not anymore as I was an adult and of drinking age. She still cared for me though as if I were her own. My mom died when I was seven and my dad had a breakdown. He couldn't cope. One day I came home from school and he was gone. He didn't say a word to anyone. He packed up his stuff and  left me. I hated him for a while. The anger within me burned to my core. After a while I felt sympathy. He didn't get the help that he needed. If he did then we both wouldn't be in this mess. We'd be happy - together. I doubt he would know how to contact me now.

Aunt Sharon took me in. She wasn't really my aunt, she was my mom's best friend. She was the only connection to my mother that I had left besides her wedding ring. She loved her dearly and I believe she loves me dearly too. It's not her fault she can't protect me. She works herself to death trying to help me live my dreams. Dom wasn't the child that she had always wanted. He is doing nothing with his life. That is something I will alway's respect of her, single mom raising her child and somebody else's.

I loved her, though she did have the tendency to dish out tough love which often was way - way too harsh. And she was always away leaving me with him. I knew that if I'd only just tell her what he was capable of... What he would do to me when she left... She'd have murdered him herself with her bare hands. But it would kill her. I couldn't do that to her. He was the only thing she had who was blood. Me, I had no-one.

"shit! Is that the time? I'm going to be late. I gotta go, honey. Say bye to Dom for me." she pleaded as she stuffed the last slice of toast in her mouth and gathered her briefcase and her keys. " ...And make sure you have something to eat. You're wasting away!"                                   "Have a good day at work Shaz" I shouted after her. I doubt that she heard me. She was out the door in seconds, jangling her keys and fighting between speaking with me and the ringtone on her work mobile. I heard her professional, scripted 'Hello, Sharon Cormack speaking' as the door slammed behind her.

I made my way through the spotless kitchen Gina, Sharon's housekeeper, always did a good job. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the integrated refrigerator. I also grabbed my iced latte from the coffee machine. It was almost half eight. My first classes start at nine and Luna still wasn't anywhere in sight. I scrambled through my purse for my phone, ready to give her a piece of my mind. That girl would be late to her own funeral.

"You're up early" a voice from behind me sneered. It took all my might to not to curl up in a ball, trembling.

"I... I have school"

No reply. I felt him creeping up behind me, felt his breath against my neck.

"I can think of something much better to do with the day baby"  he whispered as he planted acid kisses on my neck. It burned. I squeezed my eyes shut, putting my hands up defensively. He pushed my back into the counter. A sharp pain ran though me.

"Please stop. I have to go" I whispered as his hand snaked its way up my neck, fist knotting tightly in my hair.

'"Why do you think a whore like you has the right to tell me what to do, hm?"

'- Hello? Katy?'  Luna's smooth voice called out in sing song.

Oh, thank god for her and her timing. He released me from his grasp and increased the distance between us. His eyes were clouded. I could tell he was pissed. I brushed passed him, running towards Luna, who was standing by the open door. I ran straight into her arms hugging her tightly.

"I thought you'd never show." I whispered. She rested her chin on my shoulder, stroking my hair. I could tell that she was staring daggers at Dom and I could tell he didn't care. Like I said, the same routine. Every morning.

By the time lunch rolled around I had had enough. had gotten into a lot of trouble with Ms. Hallows over an overdue assignment and I had spilt water all down the front of my jeans. It looked like I had pissed myself. My saving grace is that they were dark jeans and so it wasn't too noticable. That didn't stop Georgie from laughing and calling me pissy pants for half the day.

Georgie was the kind of girl that you would avoid in high school. Everybody wanted to be her but everyone hated her so bad. She had golden brunette locks, a slim face and a petite nose. Her friends Nova and Ari were just as bad. Everyone used to tell you that when you left high school things would be different. I am sorry to inform you that they don't. Bullies stay bullies forever.

I forced my way through the groups of students, crowded together in the corridors. The last thing I wanted was to be late for my chat with Mr. Reid

"Y/N" I heard Luna calling after me. I could tell that she was chasing me through the crowd of students.  "Y/N. Look, Y/N stop." I rolled my eyes.

"What?" I snapped. I could see the hurt in her eyes. She leaned on the wall, panting. I sighed. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?" I asked. I felt bad for snapping at her. All she wanted was answers, like anyone would have after walking in on what she did. But I don't give answers. I shut down. I don't tell anyone anything. She tried talking once we got in the car. I ignored her and I ran once we'd arrived at school. She didn't even need to speak. I could just tell what she wanted to talk about from the look on her face. I sighed again.

"Luna, I can't talk about this right now."  I saw the hurt in her eyes. If I kept pushing her away then eventually she wouldn't fight to stay. 'Good', a small voice whispered in my head. Maybe that would be for the best. She deserves better. Everyone does. I could just end my life today and nobody would care. I used to fight hard against the suicidal ideations that entered my mind but now I didn't see the point.

"I have my meeting and I can't be late. Taco Bell after classes?" I asked. To my relief, she smiled and nodded, that beautiful smile that I loved so much. She was so easy to please. I smiled and walked away towards room 1980. Dr. Reid's office.

"I love you!" she shouted after me smiling.

"I love you more!"

"Lesbians" Georgie mocked. She was stood near the bathrooms. I rolled my eyes.

"Grow up"

Luna was gay but we weren't together. We had been intimate a few times but nothing had come of it. But so what if it had? We both agreed it felt weird as we had known each other as friends for so long. We didn't want to ruin anything. Luna and I had been friends ever since she opened up my juice box for me in kindergarten and then hit the girl who had stolen my straw. We had been inseparable ever since. She's been with me through thick and thin. I'd hate to think where I'd have been if she hadn't been there when my mom had died. We are and will alway's be the best of friends. In another life I could see us growing old together, adopting puppies and children but sometimes, it doesn't work out. And if you love someone, you have to let them go.

I opened the door to 1980 and as soon as I did my heart fluttered in my chest. There he was, as beautiful as ever. He looked up from the book he was reading, glasses perched on his nose and smiled, he seemed glad to see me.

"Sweetie!" he said, a smile spreading across his gorgeous lips. He's the only person who calls me that.

"Dr. Reid"  I smiled back. My smile was huge and I probably looked so dorky but I don't care. My day just got brighter. I pulled up a chair next to him and kicked my feet up onto his lap. He rested his hand on my calf.

"So what did you think to the book?"

[baby-impalas]

everything ever | jacob barber

pairing: jacob barber x reader

word count: 2806

warnings: swearing, angst, pining, unedited, probably some spelling errors, drinking, mentions of drugs.

-

normally, jacob would be a smiley mess watching you dance. you’re so carefree and in the moment when dancing he thinks it might be one of the only true releases you have. however, watching you dance up against your boyfriend (who isn’t him), doesn’t exactly bode the same. 

it breaks his heart, in fact. 

derek (or ‘little bitch’ as jacob refers to him in his mind and around sarah) has his hands on your waist and his mouth pressed against your neck. you’re swooning completely for whatever he’s whispering in your ear, smiling and giggling like you couldn’t be happier. 

until you look over and see jacob watching you, breaking out into a smile he swears could power the city. you immediately turn to derek and say something, giving him your drink to hold before running over to him and practically jumping into his arms for a hug. 

“haven’t seen you in forever,” you say into his ear. the music is loud, but he could pick your voice out of any crowd. 

“since friday. yesterday,” he chuckles, setting you down and smiling at you. your eyes are bright and so full of spirit. fuck he has it bad. 

“yeah but it always seems like a long time when I'm away from you,” you say, knocking his shoulder playfully with your fist. 

you have no idea, he thinks. 

about an hour later you guys are sitting on a couch, your head leaned against his shoulder with your nose in your phone as jacob observes the party scene in front of him. it’s some kid he doesn’t really know that threw the party for the fourth of july. everyone’s drunk off their ass and a few people are really feeling the holiday, chanting ‘u.s.a.’ a couple rooms over. in the corner, jacob spot a girl he knows to be named aubrey. she’s dancing with mike greyson, possibly the dumbest college freshman jacob’s ever met. he doesn’t even know how the kid got in, to be quite honest. jacob doesn’t understand why aubrey, who’s quite smart, would waste her time on someone like mike. same as he doesn’t understand why you would wast your time with someone like derek. 

jacob knows he isn’t exactly a catch. he’s decently attractive, but he does have a bit of an anger problem. it’s something he’s gotten better at controlling over the years, and something he would never even think about taking out on anyone. he knows now better than when he was younger that it’s his problem, and he has to deal with it on his own. death seemed better than even thinking about taking his anger on you, and that’s where he and derek differed, it seemed. 

derek definitely didn’t hit you (no way in hell would you stand for that), he’s just raised his voice at you one too many unnecessary times. you talked to jacob about what he said to you and how it made you feel. 

how he called you an ‘uptight bitch’ for not wanting to get high before class. 

he’s right I should loosen up a little, you’d said. 

how he called you stupid for asking a simple question about some homework. 

I really should pay attention more, you’d said. 

fuck that. you shouldn’t have to make excuses for your shitty boyfriend being an asshole to you just because he thinks he can. if jacob’s ever been confident in one thing about himself, it’s that he should be the one holding you in his arms and whispering sweet things in your ear. 

he glances down at you, seeing that you were texting derek. 

shithead. 

you: i wanna go

derek : i’m having fun tho

you: I'm tired

derek: you can go

you: derekkk

derek: what?

you: please?

derek: are u always gonna be so nagging?

“hey,” jacob says, nudging his shoulder. you look up to him and set your phone in your lap. “i'm gettin’ kinda tired. you wanna go?” 

you basically snort. “yes please,” you say. 

jacob stands and takes your hand in his to help you stand as well. you’re a bit wobbly and hold onto him for balance. and even in the sweaty crowd all jacob can smell is your sweet vanilla perfume. 

once outside, you say, “I don’t even know why I came. I hate these parties.” 

“me too.” 

“then why’d you come?” you ask with a bubbly laugh. 

“cause you did,” jacob answers truthfully. you pause for a moment, nearly making him trip. “you okay?” 

you’re watching him carefully, the same way he watches people when they’re doing something particularly interesting. 

“yeah,” you say a little late. “I have to tell you something.” 

jacob’s heart hammers in his chest, and he swears his legs go a little numb. but he plays it cool, asking, “what’s up?” 

you don’t respond right away, instead brushing his tousled hair away from his eyes. he remembers a couple weeks after you guys had met, you’d said he had some of the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen. and shit if that wasn’t fuel for his fire. 

“you’re so pretty, jake,” you say, seemingly just remembering that you thought that about him. “and so smart. god you are so smart and you don’t even have to try.” 

jacob feels his cheeks heat up and thanks anyone listening that it’s dark outside so you can’t see. he opts to look at some trees over your shoulder, knowing that staring into your twinkling eyes will only make it worse. but you place a hand on his cheek and turn his head back to you. 

being so close he swears he might pass out. 

“you’re everything to me,” you say. “you’re just everything there every was. do you know that?” 

he tilts his head slightly to the right as his eyebrows knit together.

“I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” he smiles a little and you smile right back, immediately falling into a fit of giggles. 

“I'm trying to be serious,” you say with a pout and shit you look so cute. he’d let you break his heart over and over and over if you wanted to. 

“be serious, then.” 

you take a deep breath for dramatic and comedic effect. 

“I, uh...” you’re staring into his eyes with a sudden intensity that nearly knocks him off his feat. he can practically see the gears turning in your head, though one seems to stop and suddenly that intensity is gone and you’re looking at the ground. “I'm tired.” 

maybe his heart aches just a little. 

“let’s get you home, then.” 

you don’t lean on him anymore, seemingly so balanced you may as well be sober. 

the drive home is mainly silent. the radio plays everybody wants to rule the world at a low volume, and you rest your head against he window the whole time. you really weren’t lying about being tired. 

when you arrive at your house, jacob helps you inside because it’s very hard for you to walk half asleep and intoxicated. he helps you into bed, removing your shoes and covering you up. then, because he can’t help himself, he brushes your messy hair back from your eyes, and suddenly you’re staring up at him in a way that has him panicking. because you’re looking at him the way sally looked at harry. 

“jake,” you say, your voice thick with sleep. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yn.” 

what’s one more impulsive romantic gesture? he kisses you on the head. 

“jake,” you say again. “want you to kiss me.” he almost doesn’t hear it, you’re so quiet. 

“what?” he murmurs, his heart picking up in his chest as he looks down at you. he’s still bent over, so when you sit up you’re only inches away from each other. 

“I want you to kiss me again,” your hand comes up from under the covers and you rest your index finger on your bottom lip. “here.”  

fuck. your cheeks are lit with a blush and your sparkling y/e/c eyes are boreing into his. you smell so good and he’s sure you taste like everything wonderful in the world. 

“no,” but you’re not his girlfriend. “you’re drunk.” you’re derek’s girlfriend. 

“doesn’t matter,” you say, grabbing his shirt and not breaking eye contact. 

“matters a lot,” he says, wishing he had the will power to remove your hand and just leave. but he doesn’t. because it’s you. you’re his first love and right now you’re looking at him like he carries the universe, the way he’s always wanted you to look at him. 

“not if I think about it sober, too,” you say. 

oh. 

“well-” what the fuck does he say? you still have a boyfriend, he can’t kiss you. he can’t kiss you. he can’t kiss you. your lips are alluring and your gaze is honest in love. but he can’t kiss you. 

he can’t. 

“please,” you say. and shit now you’re begging. “jacob, I need you to kiss me right now or I may explode.” 

fuck. he doesn’t know what to do, so he does the only logical thing. he shuts off his emotions. ever since he was a kid, jacob’s been very in charge of his feelings. he’s not sure it’s a good thing, but it’s a thing that comes in handy in moments like this. 

“get some sleep, yn,” he says, finally standing up and pulling himself out of the spell you seemed to have him in. 

he knew you were pouting without even looking at you, for you’d made a big huffy sort of sound that he knows you do when something doesn’t go your way. you make a noise like you’re about to speak, but nothing comes out. jacob smiles down at you, and you lay back down, looking very tired again. 

he walks out, making sure to turn your night light on and lock your front door. he seems okay. anyone looking at him would think he’s completely fine. but in the safety of his car, the switch for his emotions seems to turn back on, and he feels his breathing pick up like he might cry. but jacob doesn’t cry. he hasn’t since ben rifken. so he just sits and feels the anger begin to spread. 

why the fuck didn’t he kiss you? because you have a boyfriend. but he hates the son of a bitch and if you like him so much why would you try and kiss jacob? what’s the point of being a good guy if you always get hurt in the end? isn’t there a point where his own happiness should come first? 

jacob hits his steering wheel, so conflicted with what the right answer is he feels his head practically swimming like he might be drunk. he’s not drunk. he’s sober and in pain. but who wouldn’t be? you’re y/n y/l/n. you're a four leafed clover and probably the reason the earth orbits the sun. anyone who wouldn’t move mountains for you is a fucking idiot. 

jacob drives home and doesn’t think about anything anymore. sometimes thinking hurts too much. 

-

you text him the next morning and ask if you can come over. he says sure and makes breakfast for you guys. eggs, bacon, toast, the whole nine yards. he’s assuming you don’t remember what happened last night, but he’s sure you felt like shit this morning. 

you arrive and greet him with a smile and a hug. your hair’s pulled up into a bun and you’re wearing the sweater he gave you last year after a late night in the city. it used to be his own, but it looks so much cuter on you. 

“hey,” you say. “did you make breakfast? smells good.” 

he nods, ushering you into the kitchen where he’d already prepared two plates. you give him a sweet, adoring smile like you can’t believe what he’d done. 

“you’re so sweet,” you say, jutting your bottom lip out. 

everything seems to stop for a moment when he looks at you. it hits him then just how head over ass he is for you and how he’d do just about anything to make sure that gorgeous smile stays on your face forever. 

he shrugs, sitting down next to you. “just doin’ what my dad taught me.” 

andy was always drilling into jacob’s head that if you want to get a nice girl under your arm, chivalry is the key. 

“ah, yes, I'm sure andy barber was quite the catch in his day. still kind of is, actually.” 

jacob’s jaw drops. “you’re hitting on my dad? my married dad?”

you laugh, nearly choking on orange juice. “not hitting on, just complimenting the barber genes. obviously good looks run in the family,” you say, nudging his shoulder. 

jacob turns away so you won’t see him blush. he’s surprised things aren’t awkward between you two after last night. seems you really don’t remember what happened. 

“okay, but the y/l/n genes are clearly one of god’s favorites.” 

“aww, you think I'm pretty?” you say, turning to him after taking a bite of bacon and batting your eyelashes at him. 

“you’re ethereal,” he says, almost to himself, as he looks at you. 

suddenly the energy in the room shifts, and you’re not looking at him so playfully anymore. he tries to think of something to shrug it off, but nothing comes to mind. all he can think about is how pretty you are. and how kind, and loving. 

“why didn’t you kiss me last night?” you ask. 

fucking what?

“what? are you serious? you were drunk.” and I'm an idiot. 

“well I stand by what I said.” 

it’s silent as you watch him, waiting for a reaction. anyone looking at you might think you’re confident as hell right now, but really you’re practically begging inside that jacob doesn’t kick you out for crossing a line. 

“well you have a boyfriend,” he says almost spitefully. 

then you’re pulling out your phone and clicking some buttons, and jacob’s scared for a moment you may be deleting his number or something. but instead, you put the phone on speaker and begin calling someone. jacob doesn’t see who it is, only barely recognizes the voice of the little bitch on the other end of the line. 

“sup, babe?” derek says though the phone. 

“hey. i think we need to break up.” you’re picking at a loose strand of fabric on your jeans, seemingly not phased at all by the fact that you’re breaking up with your boyfriend. almost bored, even. 

“what? you’re serious?” 

“yup.” 

holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

“how come?” 

then you lock eyes with jacob, and his heart skips a beat. 

“I'm in love with someone else.” 

derek starts to say something, but you hang up on him. jacob almost laughs at the cold gesture, but he can’t, because next thing he knows you’re pressing your lips against his and he can’t do anything except kiss back and think, this is happening. I'm kissing yn. and she tastes so sweet, like orange juice. 

his hands are slipping from your cheeks to your arms to your waist because he can finally touch you. he can fucking finally feel your soft skin under his fingertips, and your lips against his own. it feels right, like you fit together in a way that’s bigger than either of you.

you pull away and look at him, gauging his reaction. as far as jacob’s concerned, you’re the only one who’s ever really been able to read him. you know exactly how he’s feeling and how to react to it. it impresses him more than anything else because he considers himself extremely hard to read. 

right now, though, he’s not hard to read at all. his eyes are twinkling with adoration and there’s a blush on his cheeks that’s even spreading to his neck. he’s dopey and so in love he can’t contain it. 

“you’re everything there ever was,” he says, repeating your drunken words from last night. you giggle and just holy fuck he can’t believe you love him. you.

“jacob-”

“I love you,” he says, moving his hand to your thigh. “always have.” 

that has you blushing and avoiding his gaze, and you look so goddamn cute. 

“I love you too,” you say, trying your best to look him in the eye. “I never loved derek. I just didn’t think you’d want me like that, so I tried to move on... long story short it didn’t work.” 

he laughs, though he’s in major disbelief that he wasn’t obnoxiously obvious with his feelings for you. he’s good at controlling how he appears to people, but loving you was something he could never really contain. 

and now, thank fuck, he doesn’t have to anymore. because you’re all his. 

[anon-e-miss]

Intransigence 8... Maybe?

They drove to Jazz’s habsuite in silence. Though he could have lived on base, and in nice quarters due to his rank, Jazz preferred living in a space that was entirely his where he could come and go without question or surveillance.  He lived alone, and had since he and Blaster had concluded they were better suited as friends than lovers. There were no hard feelings there; they were still friends. Since then, however Jazz had taken lovers as it had suited him but it had never been anything serious, they had never been mechanisms he had trusted enough to take them into his private space. Since become Head of Spec Ops, Jazz had stepped back from serial monogamy in favour of focusing on building a slick and strong department. The Autobots had catching up to do.

When they arrived at his building, Smokescreen silently followed him up the stairs into the lobby and over to the lift. It had been a long fragging mega-cycle for Smokescreen. He had gotten glyph that his origin had been injured late in the dark-cycle and then had waited for news in the medbay’s waiting room for joors. Somehow they had missed the fact that Prowl’s next of kin was waiting. They had missed that he had next of kin at all. Who knows how long Smokescreen would have been waiting news, slowly losing his processor as the worst case scenarios took hold in his processor, if Jazz had not turned up, the check up on Prowl as he had promised. He had not expected to find Smokescreen sitting, waiting with anxiety so strong Jazz had tasted it. Since his rookie had been beside himself, Jazz had taken on the task of finding out what the frag was happening. It had taken some badgering to get First Aid to “interrupt” Ratchet.

He had been horrified to learn the extent of Prowl’s damage. Shorts were not automatically serious, a mechanism’s self repair systems could handle most. But Prowl’s had been beyond extensive, they had spread throughout his circuitry, effecting his motor control, effecting his sensory grid. Those shorts had started forming the very moment Barricade had jammed that shock stick into his side. Despite the disabling shorts that had been spreading through his systems, and the blaster wound to his leg, Prowl had evaded capture. Pinned by a considerably bigger mech, Prowl had used his processor and his training and had gotten free and taken that fragger out. His survival protocols were excellent. That was probably where Smokescreen had gotten his from, them had his talent for evasion.

“Have a seat, Smokey,” Jazz said as he led Smokescreen into his habsuite located on the top floor of the building. Another operative might have been concerned about the difficulty escaping if cornered in his home, on the fortieth floor. But most mechanisms, including ops, did not have his magnets. “I’ll pour us some engex.”

“Thanks. Do you really think Garboil’ll come to our habsuite?”

“There’s a good chance,” Jazz replied as he pour two digits of Old Corroder in a pair of low cubes. “Drink it slowly, it’s got some kick.”

“Thanks. I know you don’t usually have mechanisms over.”

“Smokey, even if I wasn’t worried ‘bout Garboil turnin’ up at yer place I wouldn’t’ve let ya just go home alone. Yer shook up.”

“Yeah,” Smokescreen rested the drink on his knee as he wiped tears from his optics. “Since he got transferred to the dark-cycle shift I’ve been having memory purges. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop thinking that something was going to happen to him.”

“‘M sorry he got hurt,” Jazz replied. “I wasn’t expectin’ this.”

“I’m so glad you gave him that dataslug. If you hadn’t gotten the alert. If you hadn’t been there...”

“Yer origin already had that fragger down without me. There mighta been some scrap wit internal affairs but he handled himself. I plugged in to the surveillance grid, ‘n had a look. Yer origin’s got some moves.”

“Yeah. The streets taught him, and circuit su refined him.”

“When ya set gutters I thought ya meant the rough side o’ town.”

“There was some o’ that too. He ran away from the group home he was assigned to and lived on the streets.”

“How’d he get into the Academy?”

“Even when he was living under the bridge, Origin went to school. He got a scholarship. It came with a housing allowance. He only got a roof over his helm again when he started his classes the next semester.”

“Yer origin’s a pretty impressive mech to ‘o earned a full ride ‘chargin’ rough.”

“He’s my hero.”

“Mine too,”Jazz replied and Smokescreen snickered. “Ain’t kiddin’ Smokey. Yer origin’s an impressive mech.”

“He is. I’m proud to be his creation.”

“I bet he’s proud o’ ya too.”

“I thought he’d be mad when I decided to enlist,” Smokescreen revealed after drinking a little more of his engex. “He tried, you know. But that glitch, they decided it made him ineligible. He was so mad. I didn’t tell him I was even thinking of it until I got accepted. I was fragging scarred to tell him because I didn’t want him to be mad, or disappointed.”

“Was he?”

“No, he pulled me into his lap like he did when I was a youngling and he told me he never wanted me to put my dreams aside because of him. That he was proud of me. I cried like a bitlet.”

“I think the recruitment officers were wrong to reject ‘m,” Jazz said. “We shouldn’t turn away talent ‘cause their systems are a bit unconventional.”

“I don’t know if he’d accept an invitation now, even if one was offered,” Smokescreen chuckled. “Origin never forgets, remember. So he holds some long aft grudges.”

“Why do ya think he didn’t report that mnemosurgeon?” Jazz ask. “That seems like something worthy o’ a grudge.”

“It’s complicated. They were seeing each other. They had worked together in the enforcers for a while. I don’t know if they were seeing each other when they were partners or if that came after. Origin never brought him home. I’ve never actually met the fragger.”

“That weird to you?”

“No. Origin told me once that he was never going to bond again. I really doubt mourning my progenitor has anything to do with it. But he would go out sometimes, after work. He dated, you know he never told me the details. I didn’t want to know the details. No creation wants to think about their origin’s interface life.”

“But ya knew ‘bout the surgery.”

“The attack,” Smokescreen corrected him. “Origin came home. I’d just gotten back from hanging with some friends at Maccadam’s. I startled him. I don’t think he expected to see me. He was stumbling. He told me he was just a little overcharged. For a nanoklik I believed him then he turned for his berthroom and I saw the energon covering his neck.” “Frag.”

“I wanted to call the enforcers but he forbade it. I wanted to take him to the medicentre but he refused. It was enough of a fight just to convince him to let me patch him up. I crawled into berth with him when he laid down. I stayed up all dark-cycle watching him. I was afraid something might happen to him in the dark-cycle.”

“When’d it happen?”

“Three vorns ago.”

“If the fragger did any lingering damage, Ratchet’ll have taken care of it. He ever tell ya what happened?”

“I don’t think Origin remembers.”

“Scary thought, given his memory banks.”

“He told me they both behaved badly,” Smokescreen explained. “That’s all he ever says but I can see him thinking, like he’s searching for a memory.”

“But it got cut out,” Jazz said.

“I wish he’d let me take him to a medicentre. I... I wonder if maybe he doesn’t want to remember, or he’s afraid to. I’m afraid what else that fragger did to him.”

“That’s heavy, Smokey.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to talk some sense into him.”

“I don’t know ‘bout that, Smokey ‘but I’ll see what I can do. A rogue mnemosurgeon isn’t someone I want scamperin’ ‘round Iacon. I don’t suppose ya know the fragger’s designation?”

“No. Origin never told me.”

“I’ll talk wit ‘m. Right now? Ya outta get some recharge. Come on. I’ll show ya the guest room.”

“You... have a guest room. But you don’t like guests.”

“Usually, it’s for Raj or Hound when I get myself scrapped. I heal better in my own space.”

“I think Origin feels the same way.”

“Ratchet’s in for a real treat, ain’t he?”

“Oh yeah. If Ratchet’s got a match for snark, it’s Origin.”

Jazz woke early enough that he was up and stalking the datanet when Smokescreen came out of the guestroom. Neither of the

m had had a ton of recharge, but Jazz was used to taking catnaps. He rarely got more that a few joors of recharge in a row, the nature of the job, he supposed. Smokescreen was eager to see his origin. The fact that Ratchet had not commed him in the dark-cycle was not enough to soothe his anxiety. Out of curiosity, Jazz kept Smokescreen company as he brewed the energon he had called Rocket Fuel. As it dripped from the press it came out a deep blue. It looked to Jazz like it would be a good sub for Syk. But Smokescreen was not done. He set it to simmer. It thickened, and it thickened. By the time Smokescreen poured it into a resealable cube, the fuel was a thick like an oil shake and an even inkier black.

“That looks toxic,” Jazz observed.

“It probably is to most mechanisms,” Smokescreen replied. “I only ever tasted it once and I’m pretty sure I didn’t stop bouncing off the balls for a quartex.”

“But it don’t do that to ‘m?”

“Nope.” Smokescreen tested the seal. “The last thing that goes offline when Origin goes into stasis is the ATS. The first thing that powers up is the ATS. It’s the same thing with recharge but the ATS doesn’t shut down during recharge it keeps on humming along. Origin wakes up with a bunch of static and junk clogging his thought processes. The moment he wakes up it wants to GO but getting going to takes some serious energy. This Rocket Fuel gives him the kick to burn off that static and slag and go. If he has to go without he’s stuck with a helmache that just gets worse throughout the cycle.”

“Just don’t show it to Ratchet. I don’t think he’ll approve.”