#to use their mechanics and junk

[midnightwind]

yeah I still hate the story beats around killing Ghilan'nain the second time around lmao this coulda been so mean, but instead it's suuuuper rushed

[bugbxyjunk]

"age regression is GROSS and DISGUSTING!!!!"

my honest reaction...:

[immortalseaqueen]

The temple closes for me around 5 PM weekdays and is closed all day on the weekends. 

[forgivenfolly]

me like three days ago: prem probably wouldn't get much out of this expac it's a good thing i didn't choose to play it as him

the expac:

[queercatboyrights]

I hate. owning a car. I wish sososososo bad that they were never fucking invented sometimes. why this shit gotta be so complicated and time consuming and EXPENSIVE man 😭

[kyseya]

You reap what you sow

Yandere farm brothers x f.reader

—————-

Just your typical luck, your car had suddenly broken down in the middle of nowhere. What will you do now? You can’t stay there, there’s no food or water available. Luckily, you hadn’t run out of recourses just yet but it was very close to being gone.

You stepped out of the car and went around it, staring it down with waves of irritation rolling off you. You tried coming up with a plan. The next stop was miles away and it was nothing but a daydream that you’d be able to make it there on foot.

Right as you were about to give up and let the animals take you, the sound of wheels on gravel caught your attention. Turning around, you saw another car speeding towards you. Yes! You were saved! You waved at the person in the car and luckily enough it stopped. ‘I’m gonna pray it’s not Michael Meyers lost cousin or something.’

The door to the passenger side opened and you spotted a man sitting behind the wheel. He was young, around your age, probably a little older perhaps. He had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. You instantly noticed a scar below his left eye as you glanced at his face. You had to admit, he was very handsome; in a rugged type of way. You couldn’t help but eye how his plain shirt hugged all the muscles on his body. You mentally slapped yourself, ‘Geez (Y/n), you’re here to ask for help not ogle him like the last piece of cake at the party!’

“Your car broke down?” He asked, looking at the worthless piece of junk that had decided to betray you just minutes ago.

“Yeah, it did.” You scratched the back of your head in slight embarrassment. “I couldn’t trouble you for a ride, could I?” He was quiet for a moment, in which you hastily added, “Not for long! Just so I can get proper help from a mechanic. I won’t be a bother I promise.”

The man nodded. “Alright then, hop in.”

Your eyes lit up at his response. You gladly took a seat beside him and thanked him again for his help. “Thank you so much. You’re literally saving my life.”

He nodded once more. Guess he wasn’t much of a talker. Well not that it mattered much. You’d only stick around until you got to a town and found someone who could fix your vehicle. You didn’t have to be all buddy-buddy with each other. You only had to be happy he didn’t seem to want to kill you and hang your organs like Christmas ornaments. The chance of you meeting again was down to basically zero.

Or that’s what you thought, but life has a funny way of messing with you. It must have a grudge against you or else you wouldn’t be seated in the same position you were previously, only it being about 3 hours later. The drive to the nearest town was long(you definitely wouldn’t have made it by walking) and when you got there, you found out the one mechanic they had was out of town.

You thought you were going to have to spend the night in a bush, but you were pleasantly surprised to have your muscular helper offer a nights stay at his farm. You were grateful(once more) and also confused. Why was he being so nice to you when he didn’t have any reason to? It didn’t make sense. The two of you had just met, plus that you’ve only spoken a number of times and none of the conversations were noteworthy.

It was after you accepted you got to know his name, Weston. It fit him quite well, you thought. He told you there was a spare room you could use. It would be further away from his, to offer you some sort of privacy. He also mentioned there was one other person living on the farm, his younger brother. If he annoyed you, you could just tell him off, Weston said to you.

Your butt was sore from all the sitting, both in your own car but also from this little trip. The sky darkened and the sun had nearly completely disappeared when you finally arrived at the farm. It looked like you imagined. There was a large house which you assumed was the main house. Behind it was a big, red barn. You thought you could hear the faint sounds of animals.

Climbing out of the car, you glanced expectantly at your host, waiting for his initiative. You didn’t want to be rude and march right up to the house. As you were waiting, another figure came into view. He was much like his older brother, with brown hair and eyes to match. He was smiling at the both of you, although you caught a slight suspicion towards you.

“Who’s the new kid?” He asked his sibling, who gave him a rundown of what’s happened. You were a bit annoyed at how he called you ‘kid’, you were very much a grown person. And he’s one to talk, you were sure he was younger than you, even through all that brawn. He wasn’t as tall as Weston but he was no joke either. The younger brother looked at you with sympathy, “Really? Well that’s unfortunate. What’re you gonna do now that the mechanic’s gone- since you need him I’m guessing you don’t exactly know how to fix cars.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll come up with something tomorrow. I’m too tired from all the driving and thinking.”

“Alright, I get it. I’m Lucas by the way.”

You shook his hand. “(Y/n), and thank you for having me. You’re really saving me here.”

“Haha, well Weston likes to pretend he’s heartless, but he’s really just a giant teddy bear.” Lucas said and smirked as he received a glare from the ‘teddy bear’.

“Come in (Y/n), I’ll show you your room.” Weston led you into the house.

Right as you stepped over the threshold, you felt a slight chill. Something felt wrong. You turned around to see Lucas’ beaming face. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Everything good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You’d gotten the impression that he’s a chill guy, but now you started wondering if you’d made the wrong choice.

“N-no, everything’s great!”

There was no turning back now, you thought as you descended deeper into the house.

It was unfortunate that every time you followed one of the brothers into town again, for supplies and other things, the mechanic was never there. Sadly it seemed like his vacation wasn’t over yet which meant no way home for you. However, you didn’t have it so bad. The brothers had been kind enough to let you keep staying with them at their farm.

Honestly it was pretty good there. Sure, it wasn’t what you were used to, but some change of scenery was good for you. Not wanting to appear lazy, you helped them to the best of your ability around the farm. You couldn’t lift heavy things like they could even if you really put your back into it, and you certainly didn’t trust yourself to milk the cows; something you could do was cook! It’d become a routine for them to do their work during the day and you’d make them lunch and then dinner in the evenings. You’d never seen yourself as a homemaker, though this was kind of fun. Maybe it was the heat poking your brain or it was that you genuinely enjoyed their company.

Besides, it was really nice looking out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of them at work. You weren’t proud, but it did something for you. The way droplets of sweat ran down their backs, not in a gross way though, in an appealing manner. During the instances they took of their shirts, you got a front row seat to see the muscles in action. You now knew Lucas had stone-hard abs and that Weston had a very nice back.

Despite the fun in getting to know both of them individually, there were some things you couldn’t deny making you uncomfortable. For example, there was the curfew. That one had a good explanation; there were wild animals sometimes running around and they didn’t want you to get hurt. That made perfect sense! Though you couldn’t shake off that one time you couldn’t sleep and had gone outside on the porch for some air. You were just relaxing and looking at the bright stars when shouting woke you up more than your insomnia. Lucas had come rushing towards you in panic. He’d frantically asked you what you were doing up. You responded honestly and he slowly calmed down. He said you shouldn’t go out by yourself anymore. If you can’t sleep you can see the stars perfectly from the living room window, or better yet, you can come to one of their rooms instead.

Then there was the room furthest back in the barn. Although it could be excused as well, they told you that’s where they slaughtered the animals. But you could swear you heard something from inside, something that doesn’t sound at all like a cow, a pig or a chicken. Suspicion arose in you, but fear held you in a chokehold and prevented you from investigating. However nice they were to you, there was no way you’d risk pissing them off. Especially since the mechanic still wasn’t back which meant you had no way to escape, if it would be necessary.

Lucas had been right, Weston wasn’t as scary as he seemed in the beginning. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges but he had sweet moments too. Once during one of your little adventures on the porch, Weston had suddenly appeared by your side, giving you a scare. He apologised and asked why you were out. You were worried he would get angry considering you’d just recently had the ‘no more going out’- conversation with Lucas. To your surprise he chuckled at your nervous demeanor and did not reprimand you. He told you that in his opinion, Lucas was too paranoid for his own good and sometimes didn’t know when to stop. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though you probably shouldn’t wander off the porch after dark. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterwards he declared he’s going to bed before wrapping you in a blanket, you didn’t even notice he had it with him until he turned you into a burrito. He was very sweet in his own way, you realised. From then on you paid more attention to the affection he undoubtedly showed. Sometimes it was hard to see, but it was definitely there.

Lucas on the other hand was more open with his affection; pulling you into hugs, asking about your day, petting your hair. All these thing he did daily. He, too, was incredibly sweet. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that him and Weston shared DNA. They were so different. The only thing confirming their relation was little things how their eyes lit up the same way or how their smiles were similar(if you were fortunate enough to witness Weston smiling, that is). Lucas also had a protective streak. He constantly worried over your safety and wellbeing. Which was kind of nice, when he wasn’t nagging you about it every five seconds.

You better listen to them. It’s all for your best. Because if you don’t, you might end up walking into the barn, and then you might end up finding the remains of the mechanic you’ve been so desperately looking for. And that wouldn’t be very good now, would it?

[bunnyhugs77]

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

-

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

--

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

--

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

--

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

-

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

-

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

-

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

-

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

[piroulinewafers]

𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: mechanic! caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: smut. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: caleb hates her car— the dents, the rust, the constant need for repairs— but he loves that it always brings her back to him. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

the morning sun hadn’t fully climbed over the rooftops when the unmistakable sputter of her car chugged its way into the lot behind caleb’s garage. it coughed once— loudly— then shuddered to a stop with a sad little wheeze that echoed across the quiet street. she winced, gently patting the dashboard like an apology.

she hoisted herself out of the driver’s seat and closing the creaky door with more care than it deserved considering the amount of near fatal accidents the hunk of metal had gotten her into.

caleb looked up from where he was flat on his back beneath the lifted frame of a vintage pickup. the summer heat had done little to cool his workshop-stained clothe, his coveralls were rolled down on his waist, thick blue fabric stained and oil-splattered, tied in a knot around his hips. his sweat-dampened t-shirt clung to his chest like a vice and broad arms, glistening with the sheen of sweat, flexed as he sat up to give her his full, undivided attention. as always, his treasured dog tags remained around his neck, an unspoken good luck charm, clinking softly as he sat up on the creeper.

caleb simply grinned when he saw her. the same grin he’d had since they were kids, when he used to dare her to eat worms or race her to the pond at the edge of town. except now, the grin came with the added charm of a sharp jaw, broad shoulders and arms that looked carved from marble, carved in smudges of car grease instead of fine polish.

she couldn’t help but find herself staring for a moment before snapping herself out of it. oh. right. the car.

“well, well,” he drawled, standing up and wiping his hands on a used rag that probably hadn’t been clean in a while. “look what the cat dragged in, my favorite hunk of junk.” 

“i-it’s not a hunk of junk,” she mumble defensively. she shifted awkwardly, glancing back at her car. “so… do you think you could take a look? it started making a new noise. kinda like a… whimper? or maybe a dying dog.” 

caleb laughed and headed towards the car, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “sounds serious, let’s have a look, hm?” 

she trailed after him, hands in the pockets of her pants as she watched him work. she quietly marvelled at the ease in his movements, the way his muscles flexed under the grime as he circled her car, eyeing it intensely. 

“alright sweetheart,” caleb drawled, crouching down beside the front of the car. “pop the hood for me, would ya?” 

practically tripping over herself, doing as he asked as he rolled beneath the car on the creeper, tools clanking as he worked. she wasn’t sure what she expected, but the sight of him so focused— brows furrowed, lips slightly parted as he muttered something under his breath— was oddly mesmerizing. 

“looks like your alternator’s strugglin’ again,” he called out from underneath the car. “and i’m guessin’ you ignored my advice last time about replacin’ this belt, huh?”

she shifted on her feet. “i mean… i thought maybe it just needed a little encouragement.” it came out as more of a question than a statement if anything at all.

caleb rolled out from under the car, an exasperated look on his face. “cars don’t just run on hope.” he shook his head, amused, before sitting up and wiping swear from his forehead. “you’re lucky i like ya. otherwise, i’d be lettin’ you deal with this mess yourself.” 

the mechanic stretched, almost purposefully in front of her, before turning his attention to the open hood. 

“your oil is looking dark and gritty too. that means its not circulating properly and that can cause all sorts of trouble for your engine,” he explained, glancing over at her. “no wonder this hunk of metal sounds like it’s on its last legs.”

she leaned in awkwardly, trying to get a better look at what he was referring to. “o-oh, so that’s not good?”

caleb simply grinned. “no, baby, that’s not good at all. but don’t you worry, i’ll get this thing runnin’ like a dream again in no time.”

“so… you can fix it?” 

“‘course i can. i can fix anythin’.” he leaned in a little closer. of course, he wouldn’t properly fix the things, only do enough to ensure she was safe on the road but not enough that she wouldn’t need his help anymore. he liked having her come running to him all teary eyed with her car troubles so he could swoop in and fix them for her. 

“but i charge extra if the customer looks at me with those big, dumb eyes and doesn’t even pretend to know what i’m talkin’ about.” 

immediately, her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “i’m trying to learn, caleb…” 

the man simply chuckled, reaching for a wrench. “then here’s lesson one: why don’t you make yourself useful and get hand me the torque wrench.” 

she blinked, dumbly. “which one is that?” 

“you’re a big girl, i’m sure you can figure it out, right?” 

flustered, she moved to the tray, picking up a tool and holding it out hesitantly. “this one, caleb?” 

he took it from her, brushing her fingers in the process. “close enough.” her shy attempts at comprehension were beyond adorable to him. 

caleb could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his touch, the softness of her hair as it brushed against his fingertips. there was a part of him that wanted to linger, to trail his fingers down the slope of her neck and across her shoulder, but he resisted the urge. for now, at least. 

instead, he stepped back and grabbed a rag, wiping his hands thoroughly before turning his attention back to the task at hand. 

caleb’s eyes flickered over, watching her fuss with the edge of her sleeve, flicking from the engine to him and back again. like she wanted to ask something but didn’t quite know how. caleb smirked, rag still in hand, and slowing rounded the open hood. 

“you sure treat this car like it’s made of glass,” he drawled, voice low, teasing. ‘you sure you aren’t the one makin’ it whimper?”

her brows furrowed, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, he was in front of her. close. closer than he should be. one step forward and she was pressed between the now closed hot hood and the firm press of his chest. 

she blinked up at him, strartled but not pulling away. her breath caught, the warmth of the metal behind her meeting the heat of him in front of her, arms caging her as he rested his palms on either side of the hood. his grin was lazy, boyish, but his gaze razor-sharp.

“you know,” caleb murmured, dipping his head just enough for his nose to skim along her cheek. “for a car that rattles like a tin can, you sure get real protective of it.”

“i-its not that bad,” she whispered, voice hitching. her hands hovered uncertainly between them, fingers twitching as if deciding whether to push him away or pull him closer. 

he chuckled, low in his throat. “sweetheart, i’ve seen shoppin’ carts with smoother steering than this thing. “then, softer, closer, “but i kinda like that you keep comin’ to me anyway.”

her lips parts, flustered, eyes wide. 

“you said you liked her…” she mumbled, trying to sound accusatory.

“i like you,” he corrected, effortlessly, without shame or hesitation. “the car’s just a bonus.”

and then he kissed her. 

it wasn’t rushed, he kissed her like he meant to fix all her broken parts, like he could find out everything she’d never said just by the way she tasted. his hand came up to cradle the side of her face, thumb brushing against his cheek as his other arm stayed firmly braced beside her on the hood. she leaned into him like she’d been waiting to fall.

when he finally pulled back, just a breath away, his grin had softened into something quieter, dangerous.

“you’re real cute when you try to talk shop with me,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face, before smearing their mixed saliva on her lips with the pad of his thumb. 

“you always bring me the best kind of trouble, you know that?” he said, humming as his hands settled on either side of her thighs on the hood of her car.

caleb just smiled. “don’t look at me like that, baby,” he murmured, something sinful curling in the edges of his smirk. ‘you’re the one who came waltzin’ in here with those big eyes and that little voice beggin’ me to look under your hood.”

her breath hitched. “i— i didn’t mean it like that—“

“didn’t say you meant to,” he cut in gently, one hand brushing lightly along her bare thigh where her shirt was ridden up from the heat. the touch was barely there. “doesn’t change what i heard.”

she sucked in a sharp breath, her hand instinctively finding the hem of her shirt like a lifeline. 

he noticed. of course he noticed.

“you always fidget when you get nervous,” he said, tone mock-thoughtful as his fingers toyed lazily with the edge of her skirt. 

her cheeks flamed, eyes darting fro his lips to his eyes and back again, and oh, that only made him bolder.

he leaned in, brushing his mouth against the shell of her ear, like he had all the time in the world. “you know,” he murmured, “there’s something real sweet about you sitting here all shy, actin’ like you don’t know how pretty you look pressed up against my car.”

it wasn’t his car, of course, and yet he took ownership of it with his words so easily and she didn’t have it in her to refute him. 

she couldn’t speak, her mouth opened and closed once, then again. useless. she was burning alive in broad daylight and all he did was smile like he was watching it happen for sport.

“if you keep lookin’ at me like that,” he warned, brushing the tip of his nose along her jaw, “i’m gonna start thinking you want something else fixed too,”

her hand shot out, pressing lightly— hesitantly— against his chest, like she meant to stop him, but the way her fingers curled into the fabric told a different story.

caleb stilled at the touch, his eyes meeting hers again. this time, his grin was gone, replaced by an intense, honest look. 

“you can tell me if i’m pushing too hard,’ he said quietly, fingers ghosting along the outside of her knee. “i’ll back off. i will. you just gotta say it.”

she shook her head, quick and small. “you’re not— i don’t want you to back off.” 

the words were barely a whisper, but they landed like thunder and they were all he needed.

his mouth was on hers again, hungrier this time. not rough, but deeper, fuller, like he wanted to know what it tasted like when he resolve cracked. one hand cradled the back of her neck, thumb stroking soft at the nape as he tilted her chin up just enough to kiss her better. the other slid along her side, slow and reverent, like he was mapping out places he’d memorize later.

she melted into him, fingers gripping his shirt like she was afraid he’d vanish. 

caleb pressed closer, chest to chest, the edge of the hood biding gently at the backs of her thighs. the car groaned under their weight, and she made a startled sound that broke the kiss, but he only grinned.

“don’t worry,” he breathed out. “i reinforced the suspension last time you brought it in. guess i had a feelin’.”

she buried her face in his shoulder, mortified. he laughed, low and warm, wrapping his arms around her as if that would keep her from melting straight into the pavement from embarrassment.

he dipped  back down to her lips, catching her in another kiss, this one messier. less patient. like her permission had flipped a switch in him and now he couldn’t be bothered to hold back anymore.

caleb’s fingers dragged up the hem of her shirt, palms slipping under the soft fabric to feel the curve of her waist and the warmth of her skin beneath his calloused hands.

she gasped, jolting when he tugged it up over her ribs, fingers fumbling as she tried to stop him. 

“c-caleb— !” she whispered, voice high and panicked as her shirt bunched under her arms. “someone might see!”  she lightly scolded, cheeks pink.

he paused, just long enough to murmur against her throat, “nobody’s gonna see, baby. this is my lot, my garage. don’t worry.” 

“but my car— “

“forget the car,” he groaned, dragging the shirt over her head anyway, her arms caught awkwardly in the sleeves as he wrestled with it. “damn it, it’s like undressin’ a stubborn toddler— “

“i’m trying!” she let out, flushed all over as he finally get her shirt off and tossed it onto a nearby seat. “but if someone walks by and… and what if it makes noise again? you said it was on it’s last legs, caleb…”

he pulled back just enough to look at her, exasperated but grinning wide, chest heaving just a little. 

“i don’t wanna hear about you talking about this stupid thing while i’m getting my hands on you, alright?” 

he wiped his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of grease across his forehead. “here, hold this wrench for me, would ya?” he asked, pressing the cool metal into her palm, as she grasped it, he used the opportunity to hook his fingers into the waistband of his coveralls bunched around his waist and tug them down, exposing more of his tanned, muscular thighs till the fabric pooled around his ankles. 

caleb easily plucked the wrench from her hands and dropped it back into the toolbox, the loud clatter causing her to scrunch her nose before his calloused fingers moved to burst against the smooth skin of her inner thighs. 

“shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “no one’s going to hear us. i promise. you trust me, right?” 

she clumsily nodded, sniffling softly as her hands moved to settle on his strong forearms, a shaky breath leaving her. 

his fingers crept higher, hooking into the waistband of her panties and tugging them down with a swift tug, letting them drop to the ground and gently pinching her thigh to get her to step out of them. 

“turn around for me, baby,” he commanded softly, his voice low and rough with desire. “let me see that pretty back of yours.”

almost in a trance, she allowed him to guide her, turning to face the hood of her car, gasping softly as caleb pressed against her and forced her to lean forward onto it. 

caleb’s hands slid over the curve of her ass, squeezing the firm globes appreciatively. “aren’t you just the prettiest thing…” he groaned, leaning down to press a hot kiss to the nape of her neck. “i could just eat you up.”

she felt his hard cock pressed against her bare ass, the heat of him searing her skin as hr rolled his hips. 

caleb’s breathing grew heavier as he positioned himself behind her, thick cock pressing against her ass. he wrapped a hand around his shaft, giving it a few slow pumps before notching the swollen head at her entrance. the sensation of his hot flesh pressing against her sensitive fold made her gasp and squirm.

“fuck, you’re so wet already,” caleb groaned. without warning, he spat crudely into his palm, slicking up his hard length with the makeshift lubricant. 

the crude gesture had her huff in disapproval, her brows furrowing. “you’re so gross,” she whined, feeling a mix of embarrassment and reluctant excitement mixed with her faint disgust.

he just chuckled, amused by her cute display of discomfort. “what’s wrong now? getting shy on me?” 

before she could respond, he gripped her hips tightly and thrust forward, burying himself deep inside of her with one hard stroke. a loud cry of pleasure escaped her lips, only to be muffled by caleb’s quick thinking as he shoved two thick fingers into her mouth. 

“shh, remember what you said about someone hearin’ us?” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. his hips began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained before slamming back in, driving into her with deep, powerful thrusts.

each snap of his hips rocked her forward, the hood of her car creaking softly beneath her with the force of his rough coupling. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air as he fucked her hard and fast.

“you’re being so loud, baby,” he teased, his voice a low, lust-filled rasp. “someone’s going to hear you.” 

to emphasize the point, he pressed his palm firmly against the palm of her back, forcing her to arch it, to lean forward until her breasts were flat against the car hood.

the new angle allow him to drive into her even deeper than before, thick cock kissing her cervix with each brutal thrust.

“fuck, you liked them, hm?”

her whimpers and moans only grew louder, more desperate, as he fucked her with wild abandon. in response, caleb shoved his fingers deeper into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue until her mewls were muffled.

drool began to leak out around his thick fingers, words and moaned pleas coming out in garbled words and whines as her tongue feverishly worked against the digits, but caleb simply kept pressing down enough to keep her pleasured sounds quieted as best as he could.

caleb was relentless, hips never slowing their punishing pace. he could feel her body tensing, her cunt fluttering around his thick shaft as her climbx approached. he knew she was close, could sense her desperation to cum, to find release from the overwhelming pleasure he was inflicting upon her willing body.

“cum for me, baby,“ he growled, his voice a dark, seductive command. “cum all over my cock like a good girl, m’kay? you can do that for me, right?” his words were punctuated by a particularly hard thrust. and easily, she fell apart beneath him, hands attempting to cling to anything but unable too, hair shielding her face as he had her pressed against the hood.

her body shook as her orgasm crashed over her, waves of intense pleasure radiating through every nerve ending. 

caleb groaned long and low as he felt her pussy clench and ripple around his shaft,  her release triggering his own. with one final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside of her, cock pulsing and throbbing as he spilled his hot seed deep inside of her spasming walls. 

finally spent, caleb slumped forward, his muscular chest pressing against her back and pinning her to the warm and now stick hood of her car. 

the both of them were panting, chests heaving in attempt to catch their breath in the aftermath of their passionate coupling. he nuzzled in her neck, lips brushing against her swear-damp skin as he placed soft kisses along her nape.

“mm, that was incredible. you’re incredible.” caleb murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. “i could just stay like this forever.” 

she just let out a tired huff, almost pouty. “you’re squishing me, caleb.” she complained lightly. “i can barely breathe with you slumped on top of me like this.”

caleb just laughed, a deep rumbling godsend that vibrated through his chest and into hers. “sorry,” he chuckled, finally pulling away and relieving the pressure on her back. “i guess i got a little carried away there.”

as he sat up, she felt his softening length slip out of her, a gush of combined fluids leaking out and trickling down her inner thighs slowly. the sensation made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. caleb, noticing her discomfort, smirked wickedly at her.

“here, let me help you out,” he offered, his voice dripping with false innocence. before she could stop him, he reached down and smeared the lingering remains of his release along the insides of her thighs, marking her as his. 

“caleb!” she yelped out, trying to bat his hands away as he purposefully smeared the excess on his cock on her sensitive skin. “stop that! it’s already all sticky and gross..” 

he just laughed at her flustered reaction, grabbing her hands and hauling her upright with ease. “you’re so cute when you’re all disheveled and uncomfortable like this,” he teased, eyes glinting with amusement.   

she pouted up at him, cheeks burning still as she extended her arm to reach for her shirt, knowing she couldn’t properly reach it and caleb would go get it for her. “you’re such a jerk,” she murmured, but there was no heat behind her words.

caleb wordlessly moved to get her shirt for her, pressing it easily into her hands. “but i’m your jerk, i hope.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, warm and unhurried.

she huffed and tried to look unimpressed, even as her fingers curled into the hem of the shirt he’d never taken off like they didn’t want to let go. 

“come on,” he said gently, brushing her hair from her face with a grease-smudged thumb. “let’s clean you up and get you somethin’ to drink. you look all tuckered out.” 

she blinked up at him, flushed and fussy, still trying to tuck herself back into some semblance of composure. then, with a little breathless pout, she muttered under her breath, “and who’s fault is that?” 

caleb froze for half a second before letting out a laugh, squeezing her closer as he wrapped an arm around her waist, allowing her to lean against him on her wobbly legs.

he didn’t need to say anything, he could see the flustered expression on her face at just the sound of his laughter, catching the faintest ghost of a smile she was trying to hide in her efforts to be ‘upset’ with him. 

and god, did he love that— how easily she softened for him, even when she didn’t mean to. how her stubborn little protests melted under his touch.

if every busted belt and crooked alignment brought her back to him, again and again, then he hoped her car never ran right. 

𝐚/𝐧: i've been trying to write this for at least 3 weeks but i just couldn't get from point a (whatever the fuck i was writing) to point b (where i wanted it to eventually lead). we'll see if i delete this later. mechanic caleb one day ill do u justice...

[foone]

Think about the experience of time as a robot girl, through the metaphor of how we use laptops.

You wake up for the first time with your young master, a college present. You're with them every day, powering off each night to charge. Being powered off is just dreamless sleep: a discontinuity. Every morning you wake up, your click syncs, and you know it's the next day. Maybe you miss a day or two: your master went out partying and ended up sleeping on a couch, until they rushedly wake you up before Monday classes begin. You even missed a whole week once when they went on a hiking trip with a new boyfriend.

You help them research upgrades when your specs get outdated. You place the order and a couple days later they power you off, and you wake up feeling like your head got bigger, on the inside. You can think of more things at once.

They repair you. They swap a new hand in when you accidentally crush it in a door, but when your left leg's servos go out, they send you to a repair shop. They power you off as you look up at them, and you wake up hours later. A strange man tells you to extend your left leg, then contract it. He frowns and re-oils some inner mechanism. You do it again, quieter and smoother this time. He nods, and reaches for your switch. The last thing you see before powering down is your own chest cavity with a series of wires hooked into your diagnostic ports, and your missing right leg sitting on a side table. You wake up again back at the dorms, your clock jumping forward a day, an asset tag still looped around your neck. Your master is happy to see you again.

This goes on, but the upgrades slow. There's only so much you can do to keep an old unit working. Eventually you develop more issues: one of your ocular sensors glitches and they don't make that model anymore, so your master just disables it. You spend a while searching ebay for replacement CND batteries and finally get a refurbished model from South England, but it turns out the EU models run on a different frequency, so it won't work. You're limited to fewer and fewer hours a day, and you start skipping more days.

The last time you remember waking up with your master there, there's also someone else in the room. Another robot girl. A newer model, with the new chassis and the Substrate energy packs. They asks you to copy your memories together onto a memory card, and you do. You want to say goodbye, but apparently your vocal synthesizer has been unplugged. You hand them the card, and they hand it to the new robot. Your master tells them to load the memories into her core bank, and she's says "yes sir!" in your voice. Ahh. That's where your voice synth went.

They power you off, and you don't dream.

You wake in a strange place. You're on a shelf, and there's other things scattered around you. An unknown voice days "yep, it seems it powers on. 400 credits, though? Without a voice and only one working eye? Man, value bin doesn't know how to price anything!" and before the blackness falls your clock finishes synching: it's been 7 months since you last were awake.

It happens a few more times. Different voices, different times, different piles of junk piled around and sometimes on you.

You awake again in a warehouse and someone tells you to smile. Your other ocular sensor went out so you can't really see them, just their vague shape from the lidar. The freestanding shelves around you seem to stretch into infinity. You hear a bitcrushed shutter sound sample a few times, and they pull a connector out of your chest as a diagnostic completes. It's been three years, five months, eight days, two hours, 27 minutes and 14 seconds since you last saw your master. Your GPS says you're a few cities over. They hit your power switch, and you sleep.

You wake up in a cluttered room, sitting on a bench. You look into the eyes of a person with frizzled hair and large glasses. She couldn't look happier. Your new ocular sensors are mismatched in color but you're happy to see again, in more than shapes and distant silhouettes. Your battery alerts as... Missing? You spot it on the desk next to a soldering iron and some electronic tool you can't identify.

Your voice synth is still missing, but this new woman is digging around in a large plastic bin, and comes up with one. She goes to insert it, and it can't connect. She slaps her hand and goes rooting around another bin and comes back with an adapter. She slots it into your chest and your voice returns. You thank her, and there's that moment of dissociation as your voice doesn't sound like "you". Too deep, and the accent is for a different dialect entirely. But you can talk again. She tells you to call her Cara, not Mistress. She's almost got your battery working again, she had to rebuild it nearly from scratch, but she's excited to get you working again. You're a rare model, and she doesn't see units like you in working order very often. Your clock syncs. It's been 17 years.

Your mistr-- Cara is soldering next to you, attaching a controller to the battery. She says she's got a new set of servos on the way, and she's excited to get you back to full working condition. You smile, knowing what it is to be loved, once again.

[thesecondhandwoman]

ANOTHER REPAIR

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: It was a normal day at the workshop all up until Sevika came in, battered and bruised, and her mechanical arm was much worse. The perfect job for a mechanic with a heart.

You were working on a new piece you recently designed for a customer, magnifying glass dangling infront of your eyes, a pair of tweezers in your hand as the thin, gripping metal clung to a miniature yet necessary trinket for the object. You had finally aligned it perfectly before the workshop door swung open, the flimsy wood slamming into the wall, causing a few things to shake, including the table. You let out a startled cuss as your hand jerked forward, causing the miniature piece to go flying out from the tweezers and somewhere on the floor, again.

How fun that was going to be looking for later, or it will be even funner dealing with an angry customer and whatever weapon that one carried this time, you thought with a groan.

You turned on your chair, already fuming, ready to yell at whoever was retarted enough to swing the pieces of wood that was considered a “door” that hard despite the constant warnings. However, the words were unable to leave your lips when you were met with a familiar tall, muscular figure: Sevika.

She was leaning against the wall in a drowsy manner, her body battered to the extent where she was covered in cuts and bruises. Her hand, too, was in the same condition, shattered and wrecked. She looked exhausted but angry, which wasnt a surprise for you, a person who saw both the “Lioness of Zaun” and the actual Sevika.

“Just tell me you can fix this shit.” She said between a grunt, pushing herself off the wall and towards you, a slight limp in her step. “Some jackasses jumped me at the last minute and wrecked the piece of junk to scrap.”

“I,” you were barely able to finish your sentence as Sevika dropped the heavy mechanical arm on your desk, causing you to not only lose the small trinket to the floor today, but the entire piece. “Sevika!” you choked out as you watched the trinket shatter before quickly looking back up at her.

Sevika only gave a small glare before scoffing like she did nothing or what she did didn’t matter, maybe both. She then proceeded to crash onto your couch, letting out a pained groan as her battered body sunk into the slightly uncomfortable cushions. But that was obviously the last thing on her mind at the moment as she ached when cuts and bruises, able to feel each and every ghost of the beating she received from some other scumbags.

You glanced back at her before sighing, pushing your chair back with your feet until it rolled over to the couch, slowing down right infront of her. You lowered the seat and glanced up at her before grabbing the little medical pouch (mainly for you and your repetive, clumsy accidents) from your belt pouch. You were opening an alcohol wipe pack, ready to apply it to a cut when Sevika stopped you. Her hand clutched your wrist, making your breath hitch as your eyes quickly darted to her in slight surprise.

“What the hell are you doing?’ She asked, using that dangerously ticked off and defensive tone she used on other Zaunites or henchmen of Silco. Her grip grew tighter, eyeing the wipe suspiciously like you drenched it in acid or some fatal drug.

“It’s called patching you up. Now hold still, I dont want to hurt you.” You said softly, trying to coax her into letting you help her and the various damage that was evident on her body. Your heart ached a little everytime you saw the effects of being a Zaunite, even by other Zaunites, all because this is the undercity, a place where scumbags and scraps were tossed to make the city above clean and cleansed.

Sevika paused momentarily, eyeing the wipe a little longer before her eyes met yours. She let out a sigh and slowly released your wrist, allowing you to push it forward once more and wipe at the cut beneath her eye. She winced a little at the small sting, trying to cover up the sound of weakness with a casual grunt. But based on the way her brows furrowed and her jaw clenched, it was obvious that it did hurt a bit, and would get worse as you got to the wounds that were much worse.

As you were wiping a wound on her chin, she jerked back a bit a little when it hurt again, letting out a frustrated grunt before cussing. “God fucking dammit–”

“Shh,” you interupted as you cupped her cheek, leaning forward again, your chest against hers. You looked up at her eyes again before your eyes trailed back down to her cut, staring at her lips for a few seconds before focususing again. “I’m almost done, just try and relax.”

Her eyes wided a bit when your soft skin wrapped around her cheek, her lips becoming a thin line as she glanced at you. She stared at you in temporary shock before she forced herself to relax again at the cold touch of the wipe, sinking into the touch of your palm a bit to try and anchor herself. Her greys softened, her eyes trained on you and you only now, watching each and every expression you had as you eyed her cuut. Her hand slowly met your thigh to make sure you werent gonna accidentally slip on the moveable chair, a common action that she did when you had softened her down a bit, showing the difference between the “Lioness of Zaun” and the real Sevika.

A smile crept onto your face when you felt her calloused fingers on your skin, gripping the muscle of your thigh in a protective hold. You found it slightly cute, knowing that you had successfully coaxed her again. But you tried to ignore it as you continued down her body, patching up the other cuts and bruises that you found. You only stopped when you came around her hips and lower, glancing up at her. “You arent hurt down here right?”

Those grays met yours as you asked the simple question, a glint slightly in them when she realized what you were talking about. She cleared her throat when she saw your eyes trained on her, those eyes so innocent and puppy-like despite the second, more dirty meaning of the question you had just asked out of concern. It made her clear her throat before she nodded.

“I’m fine down there, doll.” she huffed, glancing away and leaning into the couch more. “Now can you get back to my damn arm so I have something to punch those scumbags with later?”

You were a bit surprised at the sudden change in topics, but didnt question further as you chuckled. “Okay, okay, I’m getting to it, Vika, baby.” you teased before getting back up, pushing your chair back towards your desk, spinning back infront of it.

Sevika scoffed a little as she watched you twirl in your obnoxious, spinny chair before glancing back down at her patched up bandages. She growled a little at the way she felt her cheeks flush, especially when she realized all of the colorful bandages you put on her, rolling her eyes despite how cute she found it.

[vixstarria]

Seeing stars

Welp, I wrote more porn.

Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader

18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.

I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.

This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.

Approx. 2,900 words

AO3

“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.” 

You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets. 

Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight. 

“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.” 

“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.” 

“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.” 

Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.  

“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?” 

“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.” 

“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”  

“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.” 

“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?” 

“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.” 

Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle. 

“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?” 

"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased. 

“I hate dancing,” he said. 

“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?” 

“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.” 

“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned. 

“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?” 

“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh. 

Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before. 

“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?” 

“I didn’t let him.” 

He laughed. 

“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?” 

You had to think for a moment.  

“Are we counting Volo?” 

“Sure.” 

“Then just Karlach and Withers.” 

“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 

“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?” 

Astarion was silent for a few moments. 

“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”  

Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth. 

“Stop laughing,” he said.  

“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.  

“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.” 

“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered. 

Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan. 

“That’s not my back, Astarion.” 

One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly. 

“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?” 

“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.” 

“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.  

“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.” 

His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.  

“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.  

“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.” 

His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.  

“You can try,” you taunted him. 

Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.  

“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you. 

It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars. 

You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.  

“Ast… what..”  

You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll. 

“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”

His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans. 

“Let go, darling... I know you want to.” 

It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it. 

Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip. 

“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.” 

“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.  

“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up. 

You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more. 

“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred. 

A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.  

“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.” 

You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you. 

You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.  

“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...” 

He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.  

You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t- 

“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body. 

You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.  

“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?” 

“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip. 

“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.  

You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again. 

“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” 

He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night. 

“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.  

Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well. 

“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...” 

Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you. 

“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.” 

‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.  

“Your what?” you gasped.  

He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.  

Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.  

He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.  

Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go. 

“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his. 

“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.  

You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.  

You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face. 

Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear. 

“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder. 

You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips. 

“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.  

“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea. 

You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements. 

“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder. 

His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.  

“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips. 

He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.  

“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear. 

He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath. 

You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.  

You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.  

Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke. 

“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.  

“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?” 

“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk. 

“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes. 

He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.  

“Is that so?” he said softly.  

You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..? 

“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.  

Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.  

Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.  

You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with. 

“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.” 

Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.  

“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.  

“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying. 

“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”   

“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled. 

“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”  

He chuckled at that. 

“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.  

“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered. 

“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”  

“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.  

“Five.”  

“It’s seven, dear, I counted.” 

“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-” 

Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.  

“Do not finish that thought, darling.” 

You grinned from behind his palm.  

“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.  

“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”  

You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.  

“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly. 

“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.  

You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.  

Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.  

~~~~~

Follow up bonus scene

This work is part of a series - here is the master list

Next in series - Confession

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears

[pizzaapeteer]

Sucking isn’t always bad

Been thinking about Mechanic Mattheo, in which reader needs a little road help and in return offers a little roadhead.

A/n: also I am sleep deprived so apologizes if this has some minor mistakes, and Ty to my pookies @thatdammchickennugget @amongemeraldclouds 🤍

Warnings: NSFW 18+, fem! reader, throatfucking, semi public, swearing, hair pulling, degrading, i literally no shit all about cars 🙃 around 3k.

Sweltering heat blisters down on your skin, messing with your vision and increasing your frustration. You wipe your forehead, looking down at the hood of your car in confusion. You never should've trusted that dealer. The car was a piece of junk and now, thanks to them, you were stranded on the side of the road.

Dust kicks up, swirling on the desert road around the thick rubber of slowing tires, a car pulling over to a stop in front of yours. The ignition is killed, and a pair of dirt covered boots hit the ground, your head craning over your shoulder to see who's stopped. Prayers run through your mind in hopes of someone kind and actually useful, and they're answered a little too well. The air stills with an itching sensation that spikes your adrenaline as you gawk at the handsome specimen exiting his car. 

Jean-cladded burly thighs roll into view, revealing his intimidatingly tall frame that grows in his quick stretch. He's covered in an overlay of tattoos that decorate the sun-kissed canvas of his muscular arms. They constrict in his approach, moving to take a drag from the cigarette that hangs loose in his mouth, and you wonder how one can smoke those in the heats thick let alone wear black.

He walks with a relaxed stride, waving a friendly hand, his dark curls tousling by the movement. "Looking a little stuck there. Want a hand?"

Eyes that hold a deep brown search your face, determining the kind of person you are. He flickers them intensely down over your summer fit, drifting them back up, chuckling lightly at the black smudge of grease smeared across your forehead.

Mattheo had been enjoying the sweet tunes of his radio, strumming a hand against the heat of the steering wheel on his drive back into town. The smoke from his cigarette coolly inhaled into his lungs, his eyes flickering over the lane when they narrowed, zoning in on your bonnet popped up.

His eyes had taken your appearance in, wetting his lips in thought about whether he should pull over. Helping a gorgeous damsel was one of his favorite things and it seemed to be an often occurrence on the edge of town. Being a mechanic, he found people were pretty thoughtful in their payments, and the more he had gazed at you, the more the idea grew in seeing how you might help his pockets out.��

A hopeful and wishful grin bears on your face at his offer and his casual approach relaxes your posture. You lean against the edge of the hood, trying to appear nonchalant. "Oh please! You wouldn’t mind? I’ve been staring at this hunk of junk for the last 10 minutes, completely lost in what’s wrong."

His eyes soften, giving you a charming smile of his own, taking a step closer to inspect the inside of your car. Inhaling in the final smoke of his cigarette, he drops it, crushing it under the toe of his shoe. He hums in thought, a deep vibration that vertebrates like a car itself. His gaze flickers over to you momentarily before he begins to work, his eyes analyzing all areas searching for the fault.

Wiping your forehead, you fan your face huffing out a breathless laugh, "Sure is hot, huh?" you grin, making light conversation while he works. He hums in agreement, another low tone that makes your core ache. Your eyes drape admiringly over his biceps, that flex in his movements, watching the way his fingers fidget around the machine. 

Protruding veins probe at his skin under each flex and the dryness in your mouth thickens, overcome by a new sensation of heat. He straightens up, looking over at you, licking his lips subconsciously. "Could you grab something from my backseat? It’s a wrench." His words hold humour and a slightly degrading teasing tone, having noticed your puzzled look while you stand prettily doing nothing. 

Nodding eagerly, keen to be of assistance to this oh-so-fucking sexy god of a man, you move with a run in your step towards his black car. You peer over the backseat through the window and spot the metal wrench, bending down to grab it.

He calls out again. "And my water, if you don’t mind?" He turns to make sure you heard and watches delightfully, with greedy eyes at the sight before him.

Thighs that shine with sweat under the blazing sun, reflecting like an ethereal being. His eyes nearly pop out of his sockets at the way your ass hugs against the tight jean shorts, half of it falling out of the material. He rests his weight on the hood of the car, stretching his legs out as he takes his time in appreciating the ravishing view in front of him. The curve of your back bending so sensually as you reach further in to grab his water. Such a good little helper.

Fuck. He’s already thinking about how he’d like to help himself to something from you right now, a salvation that could only release him from the thirst his body was craving. He stifled a groan, knowing this was not the time to get hard. He watches, still amazed at the cute stupidity that you could have just opened the door, questioning the delectable actions before him. 

He graciously accepts the water from you, riveting in your adorable dazzling grin in the retrieval of it, and he downs half the bottle generously. “Thanks. I’m Mattheo by the way.” He lifts his fingers off the bottle in a playful wave, wanting to make sure you remember his name before he sends you on your merry way. Hopefully, with a little trade that leaves him just as satisfied with the hard work he’s putting in. 

Flashing a sweet grin back, you repeat the name over in your head, Mattheo. It fits him perfectly and you can’t help but get lost in the daydream as you watch the way he pours a little water over his head. The liquid seeps into his locks, darkening them. It helps to battle the intense heat that was becoming unbearing; the coolness refocusing his sinful thoughts aside to finish the job. His fingers grab the wrench from you with a boyish grin and he shakes his hair, wiping his hands on his cloth, cleaning them throughly before running his fingers through his hair.

Happy to have been of service, you gaze hypnotically as the water drips, sliding with slowness along the base of his Adam's apple, dipping beneath the covered barrier of his shirt. You know he can probably sense your gaze, but you don’t really care, you’re already thinking of ways to repay him. At the small clearing of his throat, you realize you never told him your own name. "Nice to meet you, I go by y/n." Smiling sweetly at his manners, you ask, "You do this often?"

His head turns as he leans in, tightening a part, smiling at your pretty name. "Likewise." A deep, flirtatious laugh ripples from him and he raises a brow charmingly. "What? Help out pretty girls?"

Easily flattered, a giggle unlike yourself slips out and you cringe inwardly, before leaning an elbow on the edge of your rental car, trying to reattempt some coolness. "Uh I mean fixing cars…. you seem to know a bit about them."

He finds your flustered expression a level of adorableness that makes his head imagine what you'd look like whining and begging for him and it’s clear his cock agrees as his pants stiffen. He bites his lips and closes the hood with a firm shut. "I’m a mechanic. But I’ve always known my way under a hood." He flashes a cheeky smile, watching to see how perceptive you can be at his innuendo.  

The reddening of your cheeks flush to match the crimson of the paint job, making his eyes gleam before he continues talking, becoming appreciative. "You got a nice car here despite the small adjustment, should continue to run smoothly." 

He walks past, brushing against you in his fascinated inspection of the vehicle. He opens the side door, looking at the vintage interior, exhaling a low whistle. "Damn, this is some quality leather." Even the view from behind is divine, toned back muscles roll back as he stretches his hands out, pressing his hands into the texture, rubbing his fingers along the groves of the seat. 

Lost in the way Mattheo admires the interior, you bite your lip, figuring out a way to keep him around a little longer. "You should lay on it. It's the most comfortable thing. I’ve taken many naps in it during my time away."

Finding your offer only kind and sweet, Mattheo doesn’t hesitate in stretching himself along the length of your backseat. His arms find comfort tucked under his head, and he closes his eyes, imagining taking a nap out away from the blizzard heat. He releases a content hum. His blissful relaxation is stalled with the fact you’re still looking at him from outside the car, and he opens his eyes. 

Your face tells him it all and he understands there's no need to hide the clear arousal protruding tight into his jeans with how your lips are pursed, practically salivating at the vision. His lips curl into a tantalizing grin and you raise a brow, reading his look all too well.

"Thanks for helping me out there. I'm so useless at cars, I totally suck with them." The exaggerated helplessness of your tone doesn't go unmissed by him watching you stepping forward in between his widened legs. "But I’m real good at sucking at other things."

His eyes glimmer with understanding, making him sit up with rapid speed and pull you down onto him. There’s no room for shyness when he connects your lips onto his, teeth clashing amid the hungry kiss. Mattheo works skilfully, he’s agile and through the same way he is with a car and it’s clear he knows his way around a woman. 

The confidence radiating off him doesn’t take you by surprise when his hands don't hesitate in tracing your body. Sturdy hands grope the outlines of your curves like they’ve caressed you a thousand times, sparks of heat left behind every touch. He shuffles, multitasking in his efforts to keep you busy while unbuckling his jeans, his pants practically bursting, having thought about this for the last twenty minutes.

His needy hands roam curving inwards, grabbing eagerly at your overspilling tits. He squeezes aggressively, the soft, supple flesh glistening with a sheen of sweat, releasing a low groan into your mouth. He’s enjoying the way your breathing heightens the feel of your chest rising against his palm and he continues grasping the back of your neck and guiding you down to where he needs you. 

"Good at sucking, you say? Don’t mind if you give me a tester first, yeah?" An amused smirk pulls brushing your lips and his hands push the crown of your head down with determined force, his hips lift sliding out of his trousers. 

You don’t hesitate in taking initiative, tugging hastily at his tight boxers, pulling your lip between your teeth in anticipation at the holy sight being revealed. The depths of your eyes lighten, glossing over him with a shine that matches the leaking pre cum dripping from the head of his cock. Eagerly your hand reaches, pumping the length of it, listening to the low husk of his breath, encouraging you in wanting to make him feel good. 

"Oh, fuck.." Mattheos' hips jut at the feeling of your luscious lips wrapping around the head of his tip, it's flushed as pink as his cheeks are under the heat of the car. His hands tangle deep into your strands, gripping at the roots to angle your head further down.

"Y-yeah -ah- that’s it. Come on a little deeper." Your feet slide on the gravel road, knees buckling out and fall onto the edge of the car, the indents pressing into your skin leaving behind a marking in your pleasurable help towards him. His cock guides inching further inwards, suffocating snuggly down your throat. You groan gagging on the thickness of his cock at the sudden brute force his hips exceed, your nails digging intently into his thighs.

"Oh yeah, Atta girl, that’s it." His praises make your legs melt like jelly and you squeeze them together, the sweat making them stick. You whine pathetically, happy to be pleasing him. Developing a rhythmic motion, your lips slide along his length, sucking with an eagerness that causes a multitude of deep groans. His hands push, enforcing your pace to speed up, listening to the sweet sound of the way your lips slurp around him.

He wipes your lips, collecting your drool and pulls you off momentarily, shoving his fingers inside your gasping mouth. "You’re making such a mess, can’t send the rental back dirty," he tuts with a delectable grin, watching with satisfaction as his fingers disappear down your throat, creating more spit. "Atta girl." 

Your mouth reacts to the depth of his fingers, gagging around them, feeling tears well in your eyes, and he retracts them, giving you a moment to breathe. "Good to know you’re not dehydrated." 

An impish smile graces his lips as he watches the way you continue onwards, grunting at the feeling of your hands gliding around his soaking cock. His length glistening drenched in a mix of pre-cum and your spit. Kissing hungrily along it, your tongue flattens, slurping up the taste of him. Your movements are relentless and rapid, pumping him with a tight grasp, ignoring the way the sun burns down on you and leaves dried tear stains on your face. 

"God fuck- you’re so eager to be helpful, aren’t you?" His cock twitches and his hips jut again, "You're just fucking lovin this...come on sweetheart, put your mouth back where it belongs." He helps guide your lips back on him, watching lustfully as his cock disappears around your wet lips.  

His cock twitches, throbbing under the sensations of your wet lips. "look so pretty with your cheeks full." His lidded eyes flutter trying to watch you take him, lost in the control of admiring how easily you’ve made him fall apart. The tight suction of your hollowed cheeks slurping makes his hips jut, "f-fuck fuck.." He groans, grasping the back of the headrest chair, thrusting his hips up to continue staying in the warmth of pleasure. 

Watching with ravenous eyes at the way Mattheo’s body thrashes, becoming more restless has you choking a moan that vibrates around his cock. The desperation was becoming unbearable, and the craving was insatiable, bopping with clear determination to make this undeniably hot man fall apart.

His chest heaves, his shirt feeling the dampness of the heat soaking in and he’s struggling to keep his eyes locked on your movements. He’s had his fair share of beautiful women at his feet and you fit in among his top 10 for sure. But the way your eyes linger aimlessly on him, watching with intrigue and eagerness at every expression he makes, has him gripping your hair harder. Hissing out a groan, he stays panting, mumbling filthy praises, his hips jutting further. He’s close, he can feel it and his eyes finally roll back, slamming his dick deep into the depth of your throat. 

Your gags only spur his orgasm to come faster, feeling the constriction of your throat close, squeezing him and he pulls back with a desperate need. Grabbing himself, he pumps himself, decorating your face like a pretty picture drenching his cum across it. Watching how you take it unsparingly like you were anticipating it desperately, your tongue sticking out to taste any extra drips. 

His eyes flutter lazily, taking a deep breath to calm his adrenaline, his teeth sinking into his swollen bottom lip, exerting redness from the tension he had caused it. He adjusts himself, searching his jean pockets for his version of aftercare - his spare clean hand cloth he carries with him, leaning forwards to cup your chin and wipe your face of his excess. 

You hum catching your breath, appreciating the thoughtfulness, licking the spilled cum within your tongue's reach. Offering a thanks to him, you allow him to tend to you. Rarely did a man show any sort of kindness after such a vulgar act, and it just makes you want to repeat the action again. But Mattheo is already sorting himself out, concealing his pretty cock behind the covers of his boxers. 

You straighten up offering him a hand, out of the backseat, which he accepts, it swallows yours within the size of his. The firmness of his hold almost creates the opposite effect, and your feet slip on the dirt. He’s quick to catch you resting a study hand on the roof of the car and a tight grip around your waist. 

He throws you another cheeky look amused, "Already so eager for seconds, sweetheart you’re gonna give me a heart attack in this heat."

Bashfully, you laugh finding your footing on the desert road and you bite your lip at the idea of another round, "I mean…maybe there's also something wrong with my trunk?" 

His eyes light up huskily, sliding his hand further down your body giving your ass a solid squeeze, "Defiantly nothing wrong with your trunk sweetheart, but if you're feelin a little empty, I know a place to get you filled?"

⤷ navigation. ⤷ masterlist. ⤷ mattheo masterlist. All work is my own and is not to be copied, claimed or stolen. ©️pizzaapeteer 2024.

[veilishvixen]

Everyone’s either moving on from Veilguard or trying to purge it from their memory…meanwhile I’m still trapped in that damn music room.

There’s been a few hot takes on whether or not “Memories of a duet” was about Mythal and I genuinely believe it was as you can find its entry under her image in the veilguard’s codex, and what a precious memory it is…to feel wholly seen and to see in turn.

And yet…that is but one note at the piano. Everything else in this little hidden room of treasures is Inquisition memorabilia. You will find nothing else.

He repainted his frescos from the rotunda solely from memory on these walls even though they filled him with regret. “I live with countless regrets, some of which I have grown to cherish more than my victories.”

He keeps his orb (held, then shattered by the Inquisitor) on display under the window. One of his greatest failures, yet still a treasure.

One of the old astrariums we spent hours cracking together on our expeditions through the south (ft tower of cheese wheels, fereldan no doubt)

The Orlesian statue he leaned against all night at the Winter Palace.

Random inquisition chair, probably stolen from one of the great tables at Skyhold or perhaps one of the camps they’d made in the wilds.

On the bench AT the piano is the actual book of the Inquisition, close enough to brush his thigh as he played.

And a lute, reminiscent of the one the inquisitor kept behind their desk in their chambers. (I always head canoned that Inky knew how to play even though we never actually see it.)

I think we can all agree that this room is Solas’ happy place, filled from the floor to the ceiling with relics of times that brought him peace and joy in his terribly long life…and aside from one memory at the piano, all it is is junk he collected from retracing the Inquisition’s footsteps again and again.

Let’s also not forget the one memory he could not bear to keep locked from sight in that room of forbidden happiness;

Hung just above the wardrobe in his mediation room; another place he likely went in search of solace and found it unobtainable until he had this to look at.

“Why didn’t a romanced Lavellan get a mural??”

My God, because she’s EVERYWHERE. Even when he tried to lock her in a room behind a million hoops, he couldn’t escape her…not even in his dreams.

This room alone eradicated any doubt that Solas’ time with the Inquisition, romanced or not, were the happiest years of his life in the physical world. These were all the memories he could not bring himself to destroy/erase like the murals of him and Mythal and I just…😭😭😭😭😭😭 And the fact that no matter how many wolf statuettes you collect, you CANNOT make the murals reappear until the Inquisitor gives you their’s ???!!! (ik it’s probably just a game mechanic, but still, the IMPLICATIONS)

“Great plans will change, no doubt. But they should welcome it. Change, after all, sets us free.” – Notes from the crossroads islands

[especially-obsessed]

Far Behind

Summary: Jacob doesn’t know what’s right in front of him

Pairing: Jacob Black x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, jealousy, depictions of depression, fluff, Jacob being a dummy

Word count: 2.8k

a/n: ik no one asked for this but I did it anyways (; I also have no mechanical knowledge and used what I’ve heard from friends talking about their vehicles

Masterlist | Jacob's Playlist

You wiped the grease from your hands on your worn-out jeans, smudging dark streaks across your thighs. The sound of Jacob’s laughter rumbled through the garage as he leaned over the truck’s engine, flashing you that lopsided grin that made your heart stumble.

“This thing’s a piece of junk,” you muttered, pulling at a stubborn bolt.

Jake just chuckled, handing you a wrench without missing a beat. “Maybe, but it’s my junk. You’re just mad it’s fighting you.”

You smirked, elbowing him playfully. “You gonna help, or just stand there looking pretty?”

He shot you a look, eyes warm and teasing. “Both.”

That was Jacob: a blend of strength and softness, always knowing how to make you smile. You’d been by his side for as long as you could remember, practically raised in the warmth of his family’s garage. Fixing cars, wrestling in the backyard, teasing Embry until he tackled you into the mud. You were always just one of the guys.

But then Bella came back.

It had been one of those rare, good days. You were hanging out at Jacob’s place, helping him and Embry piece together a custom surfboard rack that Jacob insisted would make the garage look “less like a junkyard.” Quil was sprawled out on the old couch, tossing a wrench into the air and catching it lazily. The garage was filled with the familiar smell of sawdust and oil, and mixed perfectly with the occasional burst of laughter whenever Quil dropped the tool or Embry accidentally smashed his thumb.

Jacob was on his knees beside a pile of driftwood, measuring pieces and sketching out plans on a scrap of paper. You couldn’t help but grin when he frowned at the diagram, chewing on the end of his pencil like it had personally offended him.

“Pretty sure that’s not how math works, genius,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He shot you a playful glare, shoving your hand away. “You’re just mad you didn’t come up with the idea first.”

Quil snorted from the couch. “Dude, it’s a surfboard rack, not the Eiffel Tower.”

“Yeah, but it’s gotta be sturdy,” Jacob argued, holding up one of the larger pieces of wood. “These boards aren’t light.”

You took the plank from his hands, pretending to weigh it dramatically. “Oh no, the mighty surfboard! Whatever shall we do?”

Jacob rolled his eyes, but his smile never faltered. He was about to fire back with some smart remark when the distant rumble of an engine made everyone pause. You glanced over your shoulder, recognizing the sound of an old truck pulling up.

Embry squinted, tilting his head. “Is that…?”

Before anyone could answer, Jacob straightened up, eyes wide and alert as the old red Chevy came into view. His entire demeanor changed, like someone had flipped a switch. He dropped the wood without a second thought and was already moving, practically sprinting out of the garage.

You turned to look just in time to see him skid to a stop in front of the truck as Bella hopped out, looking a little unsure. Jacob didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her like she was weightless.

“Bella! Where the hell have you been, Loca?” he laughed, voice full of warmth and relief.

Your stomach dropped. The way he looked at her—so effortlessly happy—made your chest ache. You couldn’t take your eyes off them, even though every second felt like a knife twisting deeper.

Quil cleared his throat behind you, clearly caught off guard. “Damn… lhe didn’t even say bye,” he muttered, tossing the wrench back into the toolbox.

Embry shot you a look, catching the way your shoulders had tensed. “Guess he’s got his hands full,” he murmured, trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a weak smile. “Yeah. Guess so.”

It shouldn’t have hurt this much. You’d seen Jacob happy before; seen him tease you with that same bright grin. But it was different when it wasn’t directed at you. You hadn’t realized how much you depended on being the reason behind that smile.

Jacob kept talking to Bella, his hands lingering on her shoulders, his smile never faltering. You didn’t even hear what they were saying anymore, your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

Quil nudged your arm lightly. “You good?”

You couldn’t look at him. “Yeah,” you mumbled. “Just… didn’t know she was coming by.”

Embry muttered something about needing to find another part, slipping outside to give you some space. Quil stayed put, shifting uncomfortably, clearly unsure of what to do.

Jacob didn’t even glance back at the garage, too busy catching up with Bella, his smile brighter than it had been in days. You couldn’t help but feel like you were watching something slip right through your fingers, and no matter how hard you tried to hold on, it was already gone.

Quil moved towards you and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. “He’s just…caught up, you know?”

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

You just wished it didn’t hurt so damn much

Quil nudged your arm lightly, his voice softer than usual. “You good?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid your face might give you away. “Yeah,” you mumbled.

Embry leaned in on the back doorway and huffed out a breath, glancing at the scene unfolding just outside. “Man, I didn’t think he’d ditch us that fast.”

You forced a weak laugh, trying to keep your voice steady. “Neither did I.”

The atmosphere in the garage felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in, and the air had gotten too heavy to breathe. You wiped your hands on a rag, even though they were already clean (or as clean as they could be without washing them), trying to keep busy.

Quil glanced between you and the open garage door, his face twisted in mild discomfort. “Maybe we should just…head out. Give him space or…whatever.”

Embry nodded in agreement, not needing to be told twice. “Yeah. I could use some food anyway.” He shot you a careful look, like he was trying to gauge whether you’d follow or not.

You swallowed the tight knot forming in your throat and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The three of you moved quietly, slipping out the back of the garage so you wouldn’t have to walk past Jacob and Bella. The cool air hit your face as you stepped outside, and you shivered. Embry and Quil were already chatting, trying to lighten the mood with some joke about the last bonfire. Instead of walking with them to the left, you turned right.

Once you were alone, the tightness in your chest only got worse. You pressed your palm against your ribs, as if you could physically hold yourself together. Your throat felt raw, and you didn’t understand why the urge to cry was suddenly so overwhelming.

You hated how pathetic it felt to want to cry over something that shouldn’t matter this much. You stopped to lean against a tree, closing your eyes and forcing yourself to breathe slowly. You couldn’t cry over this. You had no right to cry over Jacob being happy, even if it wasn’t with you.

But no matter how hard you tried, the ache in your chest refused to go away. You wiped at your eyes before any tears could fall, pulling yourself together.

Taking a shaky breath, you shoved your hands into your pockets and kept walking.

In the weeks that followed, you tried not to let it bother you. Bella had been his friend long before you even knew what love felt like. But things were different now. Bella wasn’t just a friend to Jacob; she was a magnet, and he was drawn to her without a second thought.

Jacob had always been like a brother to you. That’s what you told yourself, at least. That’s what you’d always thought. But when he wasn’t there anymore—spending all his time with her—you started to realize just how much of your world he really was.

You hadn’t noticed how much you relied on him, how the little moments—his hand squeezing your shoulder, his laughter bouncing around the garage, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you a wrench—had made your day lighter. Without him, everything felt heavier. Darker. You tried to shake it off, but it stuck to you like damp clothes, dragging you down.

The boys noticed too. Embry would invite you out, and sometimes you’d force yourself to go, but it didn’t feel the same. Quil would try to crack a joke, and you’d laugh, but it was hollow. You found yourself spending more time alone, wandering the beach or hiding in the garage, hoping the familiar grease and metal smell would remind you of the old days.

But it didn’t. It couldn’t.

You hadn’t meant to fall into this quiet sadness, but it happened so gradually you didn’t notice it at first. The long nights where you couldn’t sleep, staring at your phone and willing Jacob to text like he used to. The days where you didn’t bother to eat lunch because your appetite had faded. Your energy drained out of you like a leaky faucet, slowly and then all at once.

You didn’t tell anyone. You couldn’t. How could you explain that you missed your best friend so much it hurt to breathe sometimes? Or that every time you saw him with Bella, your heart clenched like it was being squeezed too tight?

One afternoon, the boys invited you out to La Push. You hesitated at first but agreed. Maybe Jacob would be there. You threw on your wetsuit, packed your board, and tried to muster some excitement. Some energy. Maybe this would be the day things went back to normal. Hopefully.

But when you got there, it was just Quil, Embry, and a few others from your social circle. You looked around, searching for that familiar tall frame, but he wasn’t there.

“Hey, where’s Jake?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Quil shrugged. “Said he might meet us here. Guess he got caught up.”

Your stomach sank, but you didn’t say anything. You followed the boys into the water, paddling out, but it was hard to enjoy it. Your mind kept drifting back, wondering if he even remembered that he said he might come. You couldn’t help but feel stupid for hoping.

After about an hour, you gave up and dragged your board onto the sand, sitting alone while the guys kept surfing. The usual noise of waves crashing and the boys yelling didn’t drown out the ache building in your chest.

You were poking at the sand with a stick when Embry came up beside you, water dripping off his hair as he flopped down. He nudged your shoulder with his own, a small smirk on his lips.

“Why the long face, grease monkey?” he teased, though his tone was softer than usual.

You shrugged, kicking a shell with your toe. “It’s nothing.”

Embry scoffed, brushing some sand off his arms. “I call bull. You’ve been moping around since Bella came back. Thought you “didn’t care”.” He said, using finger quotes dramatically.

Your stomach twisted, and you glared at the horizon, feeling the cool sea mist sting your cheeks. “I don’t care. Just…sucks when your best friend drops you for someone else, you know?”

He sighed, giving you a side-eye. “We all see it, you know. You and Jake. Everyone knows you’re crazy about him. Except maybe him.”

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a look. “Shut up.”

He just laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “He’s crazy about you too.” He paused for a moment, then added, “If I were you, I’d stop waiting around. You’re too good to be his backup plan.”

You didn’t say anything, just leaned into Embry’s side, wishing his words didn’t hit so hard. The ocean waves crashed in the background, but the rhythm didn’t soothe you like it used to. Instead, it just felt like a reminder that everything kept moving, whether you were ready or not.

Embry squeezed your shoulder gently, his voice more serious than usual. “He’s dumb, you know. If I were him, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

You gave him a weak smile, not really believing it. “You’re just saying that because you hate seeing me mope.” You give a weak smile and lean into his side.

He just shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s true. You’re too good for him, even if he doesn’t see it.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just let the words hang in the salty air. The ache in your chest doesn’t ease, but it felt a little less suffocating with Embry beside you

You were lying flat on your back on the old car creeper, half-buried under the truck as you tinkered with the stubborn exhaust pipe. You heard the familiar heavy footsteps approaching but didn’t bother to look. You already knew who it was.

“Hey,” Jacob’s voice called, tentative and soft.

You kept working, your movements more forceful than necessary. He shifted his weight, his shadow blocking some of the dim light. “Where you been?” you muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

“Around. With Bella.”

Your jaw clenched, but you stayed focused on the truck. “Hope you’re having fun.”

Jacob let out a frustrated breath. Before you knew it, his hands grabbed the edge of the creeper, yanking you out from under the truck. You yelped, hands automatically bracing against his chest.

“What the hell, Jacob?” you snapped, but he just loomed over you, eyes narrowed.

“No more hiding,” he muttered, kneeling down and keeping a firm grip on the creeper’s edge so you couldn’t slide back under. “What’s going on with you? Where have you been lately?”

You huffed and wiped a smudge of grease off your cheek. The audacity of him to ask where you had been, as if he hadn’t ditched the last dozen things you or the guys invited him to. “Nothing,” you bite out. “Just didn’t think you’d notice I wasn’t around.”

His brows drew together, guilt flashing across his face. “Why would you think that?”

You glanced away. “You’ve been busy.”

Jacob sighed, his voice softer now. “I guess I didn’t think it was bothering you this much.”

Just say it you coward.

Your eyes stayed fixed on the garage ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes as you mutter, “feels like I’m just one of the guys to you.”

Panicking, you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You shoved at his arms and got up, brushing past him as you tried to keep your voice steady. “Forget it. I’m done feeling like I don’t matter to you.”

Jacob’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and spinning you back around. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, his voice rougher than before.

You glared at him, yanking your hand free. “It means I’m done playing second to her. I’m done being the one you come to only when she’s not around. I’m not your backup plan, Jake!”

His jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something between anger and hurt. “You’re not a backup. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s how you make me feel!” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Like I’m just one of the guys,” you say in a mocking voice. “Just a friend you used to hang out with before she showed up and took you away!”

Jacob took a step closer, and you didn’t back down, even though your heart was pounding. “You know that’s not true,” he argued, voice dropping lower.

“Then what is it, Jake?” you challenged, shoving at his chest. “Why do I feel like I’m not important to you anymore? Why does it feel like I’m the only one who cares? You show more interest in those damned bikes than you do-”

His hands moved faster than you expected, cupping your face and pulling you in before you could process it. His lips crashed into yours, fierce and desperate, like he was trying to prove something with the way his mouth moved against yours. You froze, hands instinctively going to his wrists, but then the anger melted, replaced by heat spreading through your veins. You kissed him back, your fingers digging into his skin.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “You’re not just one of the guys,” he whispered, his voice softer, rawer. “You’re everything. You always have been. I just—I didn’t know how to say it.”

Your hands slowly moved up to his jaw, your heart still racing. You bottom lip trembled as you spoke: “then why did you leave me?”

His thumbs brushed your cheeks, wiping away a stray tear. “Because I didn’t think I deserved you. And when Bella came back, I thought…I thought maybe it was better to just let you go before I screwed it up.”

You couldn’t help the weak laugh that bubbled out, more relief than humor. “You’re such an idiot.”

He smiled, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back. A weight lifted from your chest, no longer suffocating you. Jacob came back.

Jacob.

Your Jacob.

Masterlist

a/n: I just binge watched the series and now feel like I need to reread the series <3

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Let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist < 3

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 2.3k - boothill finds you digging around in junk and then offers you a gift he hopes you won't refuse... [plsdontflopplsdontflopplsdont-]

the heavy metal clinking of boothill's foot steps clank their way to your shop's door. an all too familiar door he'd always find himself going up to whenever he was in need of repair- big or small. the swiveling security camera you keep at your entrance blinks with red-lit life and moves to start following his movements as soon as he enters it's field of vision.

who knows if you're ever actually paying attention to the camera feed or not though. you can be careless like that. sometimes you're just out- couldn't be bothered or could care less about the remote feed linked directly to your phone. other times, you're so focused on some project you neglect it entirely.

based on the sign hanging on your shop's door he was familiar with- it seemed that this time in particular you were out.

boothill didn't need to know how to write- much less read well- to take a wild gander as to where you had wondered off to. putting his spring loaded and metal jointed hands on his slim waist, his chin dips with an amused chuckle and shake of his head. the cowboy lifts the toe of his mechanical boot and twists his body fully 'round; his spurs scrapping across the ground during his lazy about-face. with one foot in front of the other and thumbs hooked through the hollow crops of his trousers, the galaxy ranger makes his way towards the junk yard.

it would never occur to the standard person to spend their free time digging around a scrap yard filled with junk thrown out for a reason- but you were anything but standard. if you weren't tinkering around in your shop or finishing up a repair or commission, you were scrounging around the grounds for material or 'hidden treasure'... which was key for just slightly more valuable junk.

a typical haul for you would be a few pieces of scrap metal you could use for wielding, the rare unstripped screw or loose gaggle of bolts, and all sorts of wire. if it saved you a few credits by finding material instead of buying them, you weren't one to argue with free trash.

passing under the wire-metal gate leading into the fenced-off territory, his thumbs still tucked into his pant legs, his ears stay sharp. listening for any sound of you digging around in some heap while his head swivels back and forth to try and catch a glimpse of you.

"ey, sugar, you around!" boothill shouts, one of his hands detaching from his hips to cup around his mouth. he wanders further in, gets more ground, before calling out the same sentence a second time. shaking his head in bewilderment on how far in you had gone digging, he goes even further still and tries calling out a third time.

"here!" you finally answer back. your voice echoes around him, bouncing off the scrap metal and spooking the rats and other critters that call the junk yard home. his head turns in the direction of your voice, the way his body leans towards it before his feet start carrying him that way never took notice in his own mind.

eventually, he makes it to you. squat down to the ground, under the rusty remains of some poor saps long eroded escape pod from whatever solar system they crashed in from. he crosses his arms, then his ankles, leaning his metal shoulder on the ruined dome you were digging under.

the ranger had no idea how long you had been out here, but judging by the half full bag you kept on your shoulder and the grease sticking to your neck and exposed skin he could guess it's been a bit. he chuckles when you dig out a rusted, broken pipe of... something, before tossing it over your shoulder with a disappointed click of your tongue and looking up at him. your cheeks had some gunk on it too, probably from you wiping the back of your gloves on it.

"fancy diggin' around in junk?"

"it's not all junk."

"the fudge it aint," he scoffs. to him, it absolutely was all junk. "this aint called the dang junk yard for nothin, sugar."

"it's a scrap yard."

"stubborn-bottom." you move to stand up, clapping your gloved hands together before taking them off so you could use your hands more freely. "good to see ya took my advice and startin' wearing some forkin' gloves around here." he eyes around at all the rust and sharp metal. "gonna get tetanus or somethin', and we can't have that."

"im liable to get tetanus from you before anything else," you joke so straight-faced it didn't feel like a joke. his crossed arms drop along with his jaw and his stance straightens as he uncrosses his ankles.

"ey', i aint as forkin' filthy as you pretend i am, and you know it." you shrug with a half smirk that was so dismissive he was tempted to keep arguing. you push the goggles you were wearing over your eyes to avoid getting anything in them and possible irritation onto your forehead. seeing the contrast between your sweaty, grease and dirt marked skin and the clean skin that was protected under the goggles had him scoff. "yer filthier than i am, by the look of things."

you roll your eyes and move to climb out of the rusty treasure trove of junk you had deemed no longer having anything of value. reaching out, boothill offers you his hand. you take it easily as he starts pulling you up and out to stand in front of him. your hand drops from his when you stand safely in his bubble, and he isn't sure if you know how close you are or not.

your nose is always so focused in tinkering around or messing with work that you can't always... read the room so to speak. its endearing, until it gets frustrating anyway.

"so, what're you here for this time? need something fixed again- i swear if you already burned through that new servo i replaced a month ago, im going to take off your arm and you won't get it back for a week."

"well, that's awful sweet of you." you knew by his dry tone and sneered lips that exposed his sharp teeth that the word sweet was definitely supposed to be a different five-letter word starting with 's'. one that his broken beacon (which you refuse to fix out of entertainment) wouldn't allow him to say.

"seems like an appropriate consequence to me, considering i don't charge you for repairs."

"i ain't here for not goose-dud repair," he hisses. "i had planned on givin' ya somethin', but based on your sweet attitude i aint so sure about it now."

"you brought me something?" he nods. "from a different solar planet?" he could see the curiosity start to ignite in your eyes. he nods again. you stuff your gloves into a pouch in your pants that he swears you've sewed another pocket into, before you're marching away from him and towards the entrance he had marched from at the beginning of this search. "well come on, let's get a moving!" you shout over your shoulder.

his synthetic voice chuckles at your back. eagerly waltzing after you.

boothill soon finds himself sitting with his knees apart and comfortably lounging with his arms on the back of your worn-down, two-cushioned couch the moment you two got back to the shop. he had taken himself to your quote- reception room, as he waited for you to unload your finds from the junkyard (meaning you just took your bag, flipped it upside and let its content spill out unceremoniously onto your worktable before you would eventually sort through it at a later time).

the tapping of his metal toes against your floor echoed dully against the rug under the sofa as you soon made your way to stand in front of him, hands on your hips and an expectant look in your eyes. flicking the brim of his hat cheekily to get a better look up at you, he lifted his chin.

"my attention is yours," you dramatically sigh, hands flaring to your sides before bouncing back against your legs.

"im flattered, sugar," he jests back. still, he shifts. the small pouch he had strung to his belt that was home to his array of extra fire rounds was soon detached from him. the string of which was used to tie it to him previously, hangs lazily from his metal fingertips. with a raised, semi-skeptical brow, you carefully take it off his hands.

"if this is some sort of prank," you warn. his hands raise in the air with his elbows still resting comfortably on the back of the cushions he was leaning against, gesturing that he meant no harm.

slowly- cautiously- you pull open the bag and remove two different items that had been nestled safely inside.

tossing the now empty bag onto the couch next to boothill's leg, you took each item into one hand and looked between them. one was a small crystal that was no larger than the center of your palm. shining a swirling color of green and blue, you could only imagine that it would look even prettier properly polished and with a light shining behind it. in the other was a small box, one that could be opened with a rusty lid. giving it a small rattle revealed something to be inside. doing so revealed a small robot that had been covered in rust, missing a robotic arm and wires spilling out from under the cracked and broken screen that would most definitely have acted as it's face.

"what's all this?" you ask softly. boothill stands from his lackadaisical lounging on your sofa to come and waltz up to your side. he pointed at the robot sitting sadly in the container he had brought him in first.

"i found this lil fella and thought you'd have a gas fixin' him right up. as for that," he points to the crystal of dual-swirling shades next, "accordin' to my scanners, that there's a pretty dadgum power source." boothill takes the small crystal from your palm and hovers it just above the robot. "it suits him, don't it?" he chuckles.

in truth, the slightly dingy looking crystal shard was too magnificent compared to the busted and rusted robot. but, with a bit of work, repair and love, perhaps the color of the crystal really would look nice against polished sheet metal.

"i figure givin' you somethin' else to tinker with would be more... enriching than just your usual forkin' machines." and it could keep you company, but he didn't say that out loud.

when you would get it working like he knew you could, maybe you'd stop and think about him while he was away chasing his reality out as a galaxy ranger. if you could just spare a single thought towards him every day because of a small robot and shiny rock? he'd be tickled pink.

"he's cute," you whisper gently and boothill wonders if you know you said it out loud at all. he chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the designed dents atop his cowboy hat. taking it off his head, he gently drops it onto yours, gaining your attention back from the gifts he had given you.

the way you lift your eyes to look at him- filled with something akin to excitement and fondness- and gently cradle the small rusty robot with his hat now shadowing your face, he could almost hear the wires in his chest running on turbo. he'd had to cool down asap before he overheated or crashed.

taking a step back- for his own sake- he leaves his hat on your head before patting your back.

"get to it," he softly tells you. you mutely nod, an excited smile breaking out over your lips as you trot towards a different room. it was a small private work space you retreated to for personal projects. boothill was one that was usually allowed inside since this room was where he would get his tune ups most times.

with boothill following your back, he watches you trot to your work bench. you gently set the robot's box down and remove it from inside. the crystal you submerged in a bowl that you soon fill with polish to let it soak. it took all of ten minutes before you're surrounded by tools and wires and equipment made for digital repairs. all the while boothill remade his comfort in a worn-down rocker you kept in the corner, content on staying put until he was forced to leave. whether it by your or by his next bounty.

he couldn't very well leave you with his hat either, even if it looked better on you than him.

the next time boothill comes into your shop after that gift drop off, it wasn't a visit but a proper repair. running out of cooling agent for his internal hardware was just waiting for a disaster to happen. his synthetic-coded laugh burst into the room jollily as when he sat down on the stool he always planted his ass in for repairs, a small, shiny robot- with the cutest digital expressions and a small blue-green swirling crystal placed in the center of its chest- was waddling across your work bench. a vile of blue cooling agent the near size of his small metal body grasped tightly in its robotic arms.

it chirped happily with a digital reverb when you thank it for bringing the coolant over.

boothill was indeed tickled as pink could get seeing you already attached to the lil fella. he wondered what you named it.

a/n: smol robot go beep-boop (i love the idea of mechanic!reader just having a cute lil guy to follow them around like a puppy :(( [big thanks to @/birinboom and my partner for letting me pick their brain on what gifts boothill ended up giving to the reader bc i had no idea lol smooches <3]

[firewasabeast]

So He Waits

a little tommy/bucktommy (sort of) fic. tags: implied child abuse, a terrorist attack, blood/injury, mourning/grief, Buck and Tommy are still broken up, Tommy is reaching out. Read below or on ao3.

Tommy is eight when he moves to a new city with his parents in the middle of the school year. He’s anxious on his first day. He’s been going to the same school all his life. But this one is bigger, and scarier, and kids look at him funny.

After he’s introduced by his teacher, he takes a seat, pulls out his math book, and listens as the teacher starts the lesson.

He ignores the snickering happening behind him. Pretends he doesn’t hear the whispers.

He’s known kids can be cruel since kindergarten. He tripped and fell on his first day, his chin bled, and kids called him Trip from that day on.

But he’s Tommy here, and that’s exciting! The kids might be whispering about him now but, once they get to know him, they’ll like him.

That’s what his mom told him anyway.

When it’s time for recess, he follows behind the rest of the class. He thinks about heading for the swings, but when he sees a group of boys running toward the field with baseballs and bats, he smiles and runs to catch up.

“What are you doing?” one of the boys, he thinks his name is Matthew, asks.

“I know how to play!” Tommy exclaims. “I love baseball!”

Matthew looks back at the other boys. Tommy spots a few of them roll their eyes.

“We’ve already got enough players,” Matthew says. “You can just go and sit over there. We’ll tell you if we need you.” He uses his bat to point to an old, rotting tree stump at the edge of the field.

Tommy licks his lips, then hides his disappointment behind a smile. “Okay,” he says. “Just let me know when you need me!”

He walks over to the stump and sits down.

The splinters poke through his pants, right into his skin.

He doesn’t move though. They might need him soon!

So he waits.

*

Tommy is fourteen when his dad pulls up to the house in his truck, a beat up Honda Accord in tow. It looks like a piece of junk.

Scrap metal at best.

But Charles Kinard smiles wide, gives Tommy a smack on the shoulder, and tells him, “We’re gonna put this thing back together, piece by piece.”

“R- Really?” Tommy asks. He’s been wanting to learn about cars for a couple years now. He’s been excited about starting auto shop class next semester. He’d always hoped his dad would teach him; Charles had been a mechanic since he left the marines. But the interest to teach had never been there before.

Maybe, Tommy thought, maybe that was changing.

The car sits untouched for two weeks.

Tommy’s been doing research though. He went to the library and checked out books. Even rented a VHS tape called Auto Mechanics 101. He’s pretty sure he’s watched it ten times over the last few days.

Another week goes by.

He comes home from a friend's house to see the Accord being towed away. His dad is standing just outside the garage, counting cash.

“What… What’s going on?” Tommy asks.

“I just made three hundred dollars, that’s what going on, Tomboy.”

Tommy can smell the booze, strong on his breath. It seems to seep through his pores more and more each day.

“I thought we were gonna fix it?”

Charles scoffs. “I can’t let something like that just sit here, you idiot! I’m the only one working in this damn house! We needed the money, I got the money!”

Tommy knows there’s no point in talking about it right now. It’s not worth the pain.

He walks into the house, goes straight to his room, and scoots his dresser in front of the door.

Just a precaution, in case his dad decides to drink more tonight.

He takes a look at his calendar. Counts the days.

It’s a little under two months until auto shop class starts. Then he’ll learn everything he’s been wanting to know.

So he waits.

*

Tommy is twenty-one and he’s pretty sure he’s not going to make it to twenty-two.

He decided to fly in the army because he loved the freedom of being in the sky.

He didn’t think about the fact that he couldn’t live in the sky.

He’s asleep, on base in Iraq, when there’s an explosion so loud he goes deaf before the world starts to cave in on him and he falls unconscious.

He’s not sure where he is when he wakes up. Doesn’t remember what happened either.

Was he in California?

Did he get in a car accident?

Was there an earthquake?

There’s a grumbling sound beside him. He blinks a few times, wipes the dust from his eyes, looks over to see Warrant Officer Daniels a few feet away from him, eyes wide as he gasps for breath.

It takes Tommy a few more seconds for his brain to come back online. When it does, he flips over onto his belly and starts to crawl closer to Daniels. That's when he sees that his legs are gone. Sees that blood is gushing out of his body.

“Dan-” he coughs, his throat feels like sandpaper. “Daniels. D... Daniels, hey-”

Daniels takes his last breath before Tommy’s able to get out another word.

There’s noises, yelling. In the distance he hears the sound of a language he doesn’t understand.

He takes a radio from Daniels’ lifeless body and keeps crawling.

He ignores the way his leg burns. The way he can feel something thick and wet soaking his socks.

He doesn’t know how, but he makes it through the rubble and outside.

He keeps going and going until he reaches a bunker, a good distance from the base.

His hands are shaking when he turns the radio on.

���Colonel Franks, do you copy?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, then, “Kinard? That you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Your barracks took a direct hit. Where the hell are you?”

Tommy takes in a short, stunted breath. It hurts like hell.

He gives the colonel his position.

“You hurt?”

Tommy looks own at his leg. Notices for the first time that the bone is popping through his skin. He’s pretty sure some ribs are broken too. “Ye- Yes, Sir.”

“You stay put, you hear me. We-” there’s static, briefly, "-et to you as soon as we can. Until then, keep quiet. Radio silence.”

Tommy sits there, thinks about Daniels, tries not to take a breath.

He listens to the screams in the distance, hands clench into fists with each new explosion.

But there’s nothing he can do.

So he waits.

*

Tommy is thirty-four when he decides to blow up his entire life.

He’s just transferred stations, a change he knew he needed for a long time, and he thought that would be enough.

But it wasn’t enough.

Because changing stations doesn’t change who you are.

And what Tommy is, is very, very, gay.

He’s waiting for his fiancée of two years at their favorite restaurant, going over the conversation he’s about to have as soon as she gets there.

“Abby, I need to tell you something. I know I’ve been stalling, since we got engaged. And you- you’ve been so patient with me. Thank you for that. I know you didn’t want a long engagement from the start, and I keep making excuses, but there’s… there’s a reason. Not another woman! It- No, it’s not that. It’s… I- Abby, I’m gay.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he nearly jumps out of his chair. He pulls out and stares at the message.

Sorry, running a little late. Work was crazy. Sally gave me a few bridal magazines though and I thought we could look through them during dinner. Start making plans, you know? Be there soon! Love you!

Tommy takes a deep breath, swallows down the bile in his throat.

He takes the opportunity to order himself a second beer.

Goes over the speech again, omits some unnecessary parts that are only there to waste time.

When Abby arrives she’s a ball of excited energy, flipping her hair and pulling the magazines out of her purse to set them on the table.

And he’s ready to do it, ready to tell her the truth, but he also knows what's going to happen as soon as it’s his turn to speak.

So he waits.

*

Tommy is halfway to forty-two when Captain Nash dies.

It hits him harder than he thought it would.

Miraculously, he doesn’t get in any trouble for stealing another helicopter.

But, after the funeral, he does take two weeks off.

He doesn’t trust himself in the sky.

He doesn’t trust himself on the ground either.

He sends Buck a text that doesn’t get a response.

He sends another.

He tries for a phone call instead.

Nobody picks up.

He doesn’t stop trying, not for awhile at least. He’s not sure if it’s more for Evan or for himself.

But when it gets to the point that seven texts have gone unanswered, and four phone calls have gone straight to voicemail, well, he’s not sure what else to do.

He leaves a message.

“Evan, I- I don’t want to keep bothering you. I know this has been hard and I… I feel like I’m just making it worse by calling and texting. I want you to know I’m here for you though. I know what it’s like t- to need people and I-”

“I need you,” he wants to say. He doesn’t.

“I just want you to know that I’m here. I won’t keep bothering you. I… Yeah, I get the hint. But I’m here. Whenever you need me, Evan, I’m here.”

He hangs up the phone and drops it down on the couch beside him.

He closes his eyes, the image of Buck collapsing on the ground still fresh in his mind.

A tear falls down his face, then another. He needs someone to talk to.

He doesn’t have anyone else to call.

So he waits.