#first person to EVER put a back on a drum stool

[javelinbk]

'John and Paul, 1964' by Ringo Starr

'John and Paul would write the songs at the beginning, then George started, and then I joined in. I remember ending up in the studio for hours and hours in the end. It was good, but I was the first person ever to put a back on a drum stool, so that I could just lean back a little. There was a lot of hanging-out time and I always wanted to be by the kit, ready if anyone got inspired.' -- Ringo Starr

[xdacted]

the tides

Paring: Reader x Oscar Piastri

Warnings: Fluff, pure fluff, meet-cute, light angst

Word Count: 1,201

Status: Complete

___________________________

There was little Oscar ever got to keep to himself. 

It seemed that as he moved throughout the world of motorsport that list only grew smaller and smaller. Now, with cameras watching his every move, and commentators dissecting his every action - it felt like Oscar couldn’t even breathe. He knew that he didn’t have it as bad as Charles or Max, but it felt like there was always another person around the corner, just waiting for him. Was he so wrong to be tired of it?

Was he so wrong to want -?

“And here is the car for the year!” A chipper voice rang out through the bustling movement of the garage, “We’ve made several changes this year and are extremely confident in the car’s performance this year!”

He looked over his shoulder and there she was. 

Walking around with an Alpine guide - Amanda - with a V.I.P pass swinging around her neck. She trailed light fingers over the Alpine car, tracing the stickers and logos that sat atop the blue paint. Her eyes were fixed on the car, looking over the groves of the chassis and wings. There were a few people behind her, huddled around the opening of the garage, trying to make themselves as small as possible. 

Oscar had to hold in a laugh.

He could practically hear the muttering of the mechanics as they slipped past. There was nothing they hated more than random people in their space as they were trying to work, but V.I.P. tours were an essential part of marketing, or so Oscar had been told. It wasn’t like he paid much attention at those meetings anyway. 

He was only a reserve driver. 

There is not much for him to do besides sit there, maybe test a few laps, and sit some more. But being signed to a team was better than floating around in the nothingness, just waiting for a slot to open up. At least here, he had access to cars, to simulators, to the numbers - he could prepare himself for next year.

Amanda rounded the expanse of the car, gesturing to Oscar with a bright smile, “This is Oscar, our reserved drive for this year!”

Her eyes found him in a second. Oscar had never known how terribly wonderful it is to have someone’s full attention. With her gaze on him, he fought the urge to turn away, bright eyes staring straight through him. 

Her walk to him is slow, and Oscar can hardly hold his breath. 

She’s beautiful. 

“The Formula 2 Champion?”

Oscar nearly chokes on his spit, twisting around so that he can face her. He is so very sure he has stopped breathing. He has never been the best with new people, always keeping his friends close and outsiders as far as possible. Logan said it was the first time that the Motorsport world had ever been given an introverted Aussie. It was just who he was. 

“Yes!” Amanda’s smile grew even wider, “We’re very lucky to have such talent on our side this year.”

Oscar was still perched atop his stool, hunched over the monitors. She finally got close enough and he rushed to stand, nearly tripping over himself. She let out a bark of laughter. 

Her voice rang throughout the garage, dancing through the air. Her laugh was beautiful. 

“Sorry…” He muttered, straightening his jacket. The bright blue fabric suddenly felt too big on him, his pants too loose. He wasn’t dressed well enough to meet her. Thoughts began to swirl around his mind, never had he been one to care about appearances. Never had Oscar been the kind of guy who cared what others thought, but her opinion was suddenly the only one he wanted to hear. 

It was ridiculous. 

“Oscar,” He offered his hand and, for a moment, she just watched him. Her eyes traced over his body and up to his face. He felt like he was on fire, the drum of his heartbeat loud in his ears. Then, like the ocean crashing in at high tide, she put her hand in his. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Oscar.”

She added her name to the end, pulling her hand back with a small smile. There was a bright red blush that spread over her face, blossoming across her cheeks and ears. He hadn’t realized that he said her name aloud. 

It was finally his turn to laugh, “I - I’m sorry, did I say it wrong?”

“No,” She held up a defensive hand, trying to cover her widening smile, “It was perfect.”

She was perfect. 

Oscar opened his mouth once more, but Amanda popped her head between them. 

“I am so sorry to interrupt, but we have to move on,” She shot Oscar an apologetic look, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Of course!” She moved away from him, turning on her heel. The sun hit her skin, dancing across her clothes with the wind tangled in her hair. Oscar couldn’t stop staring. 

He was an idiot. 

He had just met her and already, he was an idiot. 

“It was nice to meet you, Oscar,” She muttered, her voice nearly swallowed by the roaring fans behind her, but Oscar heard. 

“Nice to meet you too…”

And she was gone. 

Whisked away out the garage doors, her small group following behind her. The tide had come and gone, Oscar had never realized how much he could miss the sea. 

Oscar was never one to know or care much about love - he’d liked people, but never had he felt like this. His heart was thundering within his ribs, it was a bit terrifying. Was it that simple? Loving someone? Surly not, there had to be more, didn’t there? He turned back around, trying to ignore the knowing looks of the engineers and mechanics around him. 

Already she was out in the open. He let out a sigh, what was he thinking?

He couldn’t love someone like that. People like her deserved someone -

“Oscar!” 

Oscar spun around, and it was her. 

The beautiful, beautiful girl from earlier. Her pass dangled from her hand, and the lanyard twisted around her fingers. Oscar hadn’t realized he was standing and walking towards her until he was in front of her, muttering out a simple, “Yes?”

“I know you must be busy,” She started, wringing her fingers, “But, well - I was wondering if you ever did get a moment alone, you could spend it with me…?”

Oscar had no words, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

The doubt was quick to work across her face, “But I know that this must be an insane time of year for you guys, so don’t feel -”

“I’d love to.”

He doesn’t have time to be embarrassed. He doesn’t have time to lament over the fact that one day, this will be exposed for everyone to see. He doesn’t because she stands before him with the smallest smile and she rolls into his life like the tides. 

He knows she’ll have to be with the sea, but for this moment he wants to keep her with him. Just the two of them. Just for now. 

“I would absolutely love to.”

Just for now. 

__________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

This is for bbg Oscar bcs I love him sm and I'm so proud of him

[twisted-dork]

I like your demon slayer au!!

Is it just the kamaboko squad + giyuu there? Or are the other Hashiras there, I was going to recommend Kalim as a love interest for Kanao!Yuu (Kalim being Kanao!Yuu’s Tanjiro 💀) but then thought if there was an Obanai!Yuu because then Kalim would match them

ok so the Demon Slayer Yuu’s include the Kamaboko squad+ Swap Daki, Swap Gyutaro, Senjuro (Rengoku’s little brother), Aoi, and Giyuu

I do other requests like yours I’m starting on Kalim x Kanao!Yuu right now so don’t worry 😊.

This is in an au for Kalim x Kanao

Warning: Past abuse/slavery mention

At first he admired the person who quité literally saved his behind. When he was about to asked for their name the Headmage was escorting everyone out.

He talked Jamil ear off about them how fast they were and how they looked pretty (used as a gn term)

The next time he saw them was when they were asking about Jamil accident he finally got their name. Kanao!Yuu

After getting to know them for a while and the whole Scarabia incident he slowly slowly SLOWLY realize his feelings towards them he decided to confess to them

(Tanjiro!Yuu punched Jamil for Kalim btw)

At first when he wanted asked them out he was about to throw a party before Inosuke!Yuu stopped him.

“I know I’m not the smartest person.

“But I know that chestnut does not like parties.”

On to plan B he took them on a carpet ride where he confessed his feelings towards them.

“THEY SAID YES JAMIL”

Golden retriever x Black cat energy

Kalim is the obviously the most affectionate person in the relationship.

He will always pat Kanao!Yuu’s head (wether standing, bending down, or standing on a stool).

He will always talk to them no matter what and they will listen to him talk.

It’s canon that Kanao!Yuu likes giving small gifts to the people they care about. So I can imagine them giving Kalim a small gift (like a keychain or new drum sticks) and him putting them in the treasure vault.

Whenever someone is trying to hurt/manipulate/use Kalim they just have to glare at said person and they back off.

Whenever they cuddle either inside, outside, or on carpet they hug each other tightly (Mainly Kanao!Yuu). With Kalim being big spoon and Kanao!Yuu being the little spoon.

Whenever Kanao!Yuu has to leave Kalim will most likely follow them without realizing it himself.

Whenever Kanao!Yuu let their hair down Kalim will complement them until he realizes how flustered they are.

Whenever Kalim sees a pretty flower he will pick it and give it to them.

I headcanon that Kanao!Yuu has scars not only from their job but also from their past. I feel like Kalim would kiss their scars (with their permission) but won’t asked how they got them until their ready.

When Kanao!Yuu told him about their past he was shock

Not only did their parents basically almost killed them. But they also sold them.

He said that if he ever met them he would have punched them in their face (like what he said about Jamil)

He likes their sisters (even if he never got to meet them). Just hearing you talk about them he could tell they’re good people.

He likes hearing about their world it’s interesting.

He is their number 1 cheerleader.

[mothybean]

Airhead Part 4

My schedule the following week was insanely jam packed. It was as if all of my professors congregated to drop an assignment nuke on us. I had about 10 different assignments to complete, 3 of them were Heimerdinger’s. He drove me nuts. I had a feeling that he only became a college professor to stroke his own ego;surround himself with others who were “less intelligent” than him to make himself feel superior. I’m pretty sure it was compensation for his height. He was as tall as a stepping stool. I don’t think there was one person in our class that liked him. The moment his name was mentioned, faces would scrunch as if they just caught a whiff of rancid garbage mixed with sulfur on a hot summer's eve.

I was drowning. I was back where I started, semi clueless. Humpledink must’ve had a sixth sense knowing I was receiving help and decided to bump up the difficulty of the material. Either that, or it was my own fault for daydreaming in class. Those baby blue clouds were still vivid in my mind. I’ve been thinking about her ever since. I didn’t have the courage to reach out to her, even though I wanted to. A part of me was super nervous to even see her again. I kept running through possible scenarios of us studying together, a lot of them were painfully cringey. My biggest worry of them all was that it was going to be mega awkward.

I sat at my desk, staring at my science assignment, my hands tangled in my hair with frustration. I reread the first question at least ten times and I still didn’t understand what he was asking. Why was this so fucking difficult?! I groaned and gently knocked my forehead against my desk. I kept my head pressed against the wood, drumming my fingers against my skull. I inhaled deeply, running the idea through my head a few times before exhaling. That's it. I had to bite the possibly awkward bullet and let Jinx know I needed help.

Once again, I stood in front of Vi and Jinx’s home, only this time I ditched the weighted backpack and just brought my laptop. I figured I’d travel light in case I needed to make a run for it again-which I promised myself I wouldn’t. I was crushing hard on her. How did I expect to get close if I put distance between us? I gave the front door a solid few knocks and glanced down at the familiar cursive words beneath my feet. They needed to toss this damn thing, it didn’t match the vibe on the inside. I wasn’t a fan of cheesy suburban white mom decor. No offense.

I heard the door unlock, my eyes still glaring at the jute mat. I adjusted my laptop in my arms, silently taking a deep breath to soothe my nerves. With what little courage I managed to summon, I lifted my foot off the porch step, but immediately froze once I took notice of who answered. Jinx stood in the doorway wearing an oversized white t-shirt, a mischievous grin plastered on her lips. Her hair, no longer in braids, fell to her ankles like silky curtains. I swallowed hard. Could this girl be anymore attractive?

“H-hi.” I stammered, trying my best to keep my composure as my eyes ping ponged from her’s to her legs to my feet. Not even a couple of seconds in and I already feel like I’m making a fool of myself. Nice one Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She greeted me in a husky tone, pushing the door open wider to let me in. “Let’s get to it.” She smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she started down the hallway, leaving me stunned at the door. I stood on the front porch watching her hips slightly sway with each step. Damn. I cleared my throat and furrowed my brows, reeling my eyes back into my sockets. I needed to chill. I was here for a study session, not a simp session.

I stepped inside, softly closing the door behind me. Eager to be close to my blue hair crush, I kicked my shoes off near the rack and walked down the hall with haste. I felt like I was gonna puke. I entered the living room, gripping the life out of my laptop. There she was, sitting comfortably on the far end of the couch, one foot propped up on the cushion, the other planted on the floor. Suddenly, studying became a distant memory as my eyes hungrily scanned the blue haired angel, tracing her tattoos yet again. I desperately wanted to touch them. I bet she was as soft as she looked.

“You ready?” Jinx asked, twirling her hair around her finger, a devious smirk still plastered. Something told me she knew I had the hots for her. Anyone with eyeballs could tell. I made it painfully obvious. I was never great at hiding my true feelings, especially when I was embarrassed. My facial flushing always gave it away. It wasn’t a cute pink tint either. My cheeks would go redder than the devil’s ass cheeks. I’d be shit out of luck if I wanted to pursue professional poker.

“Mhm.” I murmured, sitting on the opposite end of the couch as her, my hands slightly trembling as I opened my laptop to turn it on.

From my peripheral vision, I noticed Jinx staring at me, still twirling her long bluenette locks around her index finger. Avoiding her obvious gaze, I kept my eyes forward, intensely staring at my laptop’s update screen as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Of course it would be updating right this second. I tapped my fingertips lightly against the touchpad, hoping my taps would encourage my hunk of junk to update faster.

“Technical difficulties?” Jinx questioned with a small chuckle, scooching a tad closer to me to inspect my screen. My mouth felt like the desert.

“Yeah…I’ve had this thing for a while. I’ve been denying the updates for so long I guess it finally had enough.” I laughed nervously, bouncing my leg slightly as I watched the update percentage rise slowly. I cupped my hands around the back of my neck and let my elbows fall. Safe to say it was time for a new computer.

I felt Jinx shift on the couch, causing my specific cushion to sink a bit on the side. Before I could even glance over at her, her legs stretched out across my lap, on top of the laptop.

“Oh!” I gasped, my eyes darting back and forth between her silky smooth legs and my piece of shit laptop. At that moment, I didn’t give a damn if the thing fell to the ground and shattered into a million pieces if it meant staying in our current position.

“Whaddya think?” Jinx asked, her hands dragging the hem of her oversized white shirt upwards, revealing her upper thighs. “I’m thinking about getting more tattoos, but I’m not sure what to get yet.”

I stared at her legs, my mouth slightly agape as I studied the blue clouds that traveled up her right leg. I gulped, unsure of what to do or say, this was so abrupt. The only thought that bounced around was to let my hands fall onto her beautiful legs. Using what little courage I had in me, my eyes traveled up her legs towards her thighs, stopping briefly at her pastel lavender underwear that was slightly visible before finally meeting her eyes.

“They’re…” I started, my eyes taking a quick peek at her underwear again before looking back at her. “They’re great.”

Jinx chuckled dryly and laid down on her back, not once removing her eyes from mine.

“Ya think so?” She definitely knew. I already knew I was crimson red, that was a no brainer. It was a dead give away at this point. I nodded, still staring into her blue orbs. Jinx found the hem of her shirt again, rubbing the fabric in between her fingers for a moment before slowly lifting her shirt up even more, her underwear fully visible at this point.

My body tensed as I felt the full weight of her legs on mine. I glanced at my laptop, slightly hoping the update was complete as an excuse to collect myself. Ironically, the percentage was at 69%. I felt myself blush even harder as an intrusive thought conjured after seeing the sexually coded number. What the hell was even happening? Looking back over, Jinx’s shirt was now lifted up high enough for me to see everything up to her collar bones.

“I think it suits me. What do you think, Y/N?” She questioned as she slightly moved her left leg against my stomach. Holy hell I was going to explode if she kept touching me.

“Yeah, I agree…” I trailed off. I felt like a horny teenage boy as I drooled over her figure, mentally marking the parts of her I wanted to kiss the most.

Jinx quickly sat up, her legs still weighted on mine and leaned against the back of the couch, her face mere inches from mine.

“What’s wrong?” Her tone was playful. I glanced at the laptop, checking the percentage. It was stalling at 99%. Come on you stupid piece of shi-

Jinx removed her legs off of me and stood up from the couch, almost knocking the computer off my lap in the process. She stood in front of me with her arms crossed as her eyes traveled from my face down to my laptop. Her face was hard to read, the smirk she was wearing was replaced with a more neutral expression. I had no idea what was going on inside of her mind and that scared me.

I looked back at the screen and a wave of relief washed over me. The update finally finished, the screen now displaying the home screen. I opened my mouth to say something, but Jinx took the computer off my lap and placed it next to me. I raised an eyebrow in question, watching as she slowly took a step forward, placing her hands on either side of my head, her palms against the back of the couch.

“Do you think we should study later?” Jinx asked in a sultry voice, her face leaning closer to mine. My heart was pounding. Was she about to kiss me? Our lips, centimeters from touching, a sudden annoying beeping sound echoed throughout the living room. I pulled back from her face and looked around for the source.

“Get up.” Jinx said sternly. I furrowed my brows, unsure of what she meant. “Get up.” She repeated as she pushed off the couch.

My eyes shot open, my eyes darting around my surroundings. I was in my bedroom. Holy shit, that was a dream?

[yoditopascal]

Nocturne (Part One)

summary: Cursed to walk the light of the full moon as a monster, young Sol, the last of the druids, finds solace in Trevor Belmont. As the two travel the land piecing together fragments of lore in their search for a cure for her lycanthropy, they stumble upon a prophecy of a soldier who sleeps deep in catacombs of Gresit, awaiting a hunter, a scholar and oddly enough a druid. Teaming up with a Speaker magician and a Dhampir can they come together to not only save Sol but also put a stop to Dracula?

content warnings: original characters, eventual romance, eventual smut, fluff and angst, found family, platonic relationships, gender identity, sexuality exploration, canon typical violence, character death, dnd 5E references

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Symphony of the Night

The air of the tavern was heavy with the scent of spilled ale and piss, warmed by the dimly lit candles that decorated the grimey bar and tables. It was the first time that Sol had ever laid eyes on such a place, pulling their cloak even tighter around themselves as they walked further into the establishment, eyes searching until they came to land on a dark figure arched over a stool at the bar. Trevor Belmont, the last of his kind, was nestled away in a corner, draped in darkness and an aura of mystery as the light of the candles did not reach him.

A teenage Trevor sat, his back to the tavern door, hunched over his ale as he sipped at it slowly. His dark hair wild eyes a stormy blue that held a certain sorrow to them. The flickering flames of the candles cast shadows across his face, illuminating the freshly acquired scar that adorned his face. Weary from their far travels and with hesitation Sol steps forward towards him, the night air running shivers up their spine. Summoning all the courage they had left, Sol reaches a gentle hand out, touching his shoulder. “Are you Trevor Belmont?” They said quietly, their voice trembling slightly. “I need your help.”

Shrugging their hand from his person Trevor looks up from his mug, his instinctual wariness of strangers flaring momentarily before he takes in their appearance.

The person behind the trembling voice was smaller, no bigger than a child who was on the cusp of adolescence. They were barefoot and clothed in tattered garments, wild hair and sad eyes, brimmed with unshed tears, peeking from beneath the clutched derelict cloak that didn’t even reach all the way down their torso.

“Who’s asking?” he asked, examining the child standing before him, with a raised brow.

Sol swallowed hard, their heart pounding like a war drum in their chest. “I-I am Sol.” They sniffed, wringing the remains of their cloak in their tiny hands

“My grandfather always told me if I ever needed help I should find myself in the company of a Belmont.” They confessed, voice soft and delicate. “I’ve heard of what came of your family. I’m sorry but I-I desperately need your help.” They clarified steeling themselves a they straightened their spine and continued. “I’ve been cursed to turn into a lycan with every full moon. I’ve already lost my family to this curse. I can’t hurt anyone else. Please.”

Doubt started to arise in Trevor, as his mind urged him to turn them away. He had slain such beasts before in his line of work but too often he had found himself not concerned for the individual behind the curse. Taking another sip of his ale he prepared himself to tell the child to get lost, to avoid the burden of having to save someone curse, it wasn’t it problem after all, but when he looked back at them looking deeper into those wild viridian eyes he saw the fear and the resilience behind their words, and most of all he saw the small flicker of hope stirring something deep in him he hadn’t felt for long time, the need to aid, to protect just as his family once did.

Reluctantly, Trevor nods and gestured for Sol to sit. They scramble onto the stool next to him, relief washing over their dirty face and the two begin to converse. As the two spoke, Trevor learns that the child is from Sitka, a small village some 50 miles away, had they really walked that far to find him? He also learned that they came from a family consisting of their older brother and grandfather before the curse of the lycan took them away from them, and that they were the last of a long line of Druids. Trevor nearly choked on his ale at that, druids and Belmonts had a long standing history of providing aid to each other so it was no wonder their grandfather told them to seek him out with his dying breath, but it was to his understanding that the last of the druids had died out decades ago, so how were you standing here before him?

Trevor continued to listen to the child intently, recalling tales of lycans from his childhood as they began to tell him how they came to be cursed. You were fetching water in the middle of the night for your ill brother when the ambush came, they didn’t remember much from the attack but when they came too they were naked and covered in blood, their brother’s mutilated corpse hunched over their grandfather’s as he spoke his last words to them.

Trevor grimaced as they finished their tale, knowing it must have been traumatic for a child to bear such a weight. Throwing back the last of his drink Trevor wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You won’t lose yourself to darkness Sol, I promise you, but this journey we’re about to partake won’t be an easy one. Are you sure you’re prepared for it?” He asks as he stands to his feet, hovering a steady hand to them.

Sol looks down at his palm and without hesitation takes it standing to their feet as well. “I’m ready, let's go.”

So began their journey, a quest that took them to new and uncharted lands, in search of any information they could find on a cure. Trevor knew of one way that would for certain break the curse but for the sake of his child companion they needed to find one that wouldn’t kill them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the years, as the child grew at his side Trevor noticed subtle things that he hadn’t before, but he always brushed it off as his imagination. It all came to head one sh while they were preparing for a bath, one of the rare occasions they had time for one.

The moonlight spilled into the clearing, casting a pale light over the water, Trevor found a moment of peace as he relaxed further into the cool water of the lake. He, now a young adult and his young Druid companion, now reaching the end of their teenage years, had traveled for miles, sharing laughter and experiences together that would last a lifetime, forging a strong familial bond between the two.

After weeks of being on the road they finally found time to wash away the grime of their adventure in a secluded lake, Trevor sank even deeper into the refreshing waters, until it covered him till the bridge of his nose, the lake relaxing his sore muscles as he began to blow bubbles.

A splash caused him to tear his eyes open just before he was drenched in the onslaught of water. Sitting up he wipes the water from his eyes and glares at the Druid as they laugh at his soaked appearance.

“Sorry Trevor.” They say from behind a hand as they try and fail to stifle their chuckles.

With a roll of his eyes Trevor splashes at his partner causing them to break out in a giggle as they shake the water from their hair, pulling it up into a bun high on their head. Over the years their wild curls had continued to grow long and unruly, something Trevor had often told them needed to be cut.

Trevor goes to open his mouth to retort, but it’s caught in his throat when he looks down to the curve of his friend’s chest that had become exposed when they raised their hands to put up their hair. Trevor was struck by silence as a disorienting realization overcame him, his companion, whom he had assumed to be a boy this entire time, was actually a woman. The shock sent a shiver down his spine, as he scrambled out of the water, heart racing.

“What were you thinking?!” he exclaimed, scolding her with an awkward mix of embarrassment and confusion. He couldn’t believe he’d missed this before, were their signs? Of course there were, there had to be! “I may be me but I’m still a man!” He shouts as he crawls to the banks of the lake, snatching up his discarded clothing to cover himself with.

Sol looks over to him perplexed by his actions, and simply shrugs. “I used to bathe with my brother all the time back in my village,” she replied, brushing off his reaction. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“That’s not the point!” He screeched his voice cracking slightly, betraying him.

“Then what is the point?” She asks cocking her head to the side as she started to come to get out of the water, wanting to come to his side but Trevor holds up a hand in front of his face blocking her form from view as he huffs in frustration.

“I’m a man, you’re an unmarried woman, it’s-it’s inappropriate Sol!”

With a frown Sol sinks back down into the cooling waters hiding herself from him as he was clearly disgusted by her nakedness.

“I’m sorry to make you so uncomfortable Trevor, where I’m from we don’t care for such things.”

It takes him a moment to remember you hadn’t grown up the same way as everyone else. Druids lived as outlanders, they grew up in huts in the wilds far from civilization in small tribe like communes and lived by the rules of the natural world, witnessing the migration of herds and life cycles of the beasts of the forests. Nature was in their blood, and that meant they didn’t think the same as those who lived in civilization did.

He was left grappling with his feelings of awkwardness as he struggled to try and get them—her to understand. Confusion flickered across her gaze as she wrapped her arms around herself and he began to realize that perhaps she’d never fully understand why he was in such a panic. With a sigh he stands to his feet, his clothes still clutched firmly to his groin, shielding himself from her view.

“Just hurry up and finish so I get a turn ok?” He calls over his shoulder as he turns his back to her so he could pull his pants back on. With a frown Sol nods to him as he retreats from the clearing not seeing the red that dusted his tanned ears and cheeks.

From then on Trevor insisted that Sol cut her hair and dress like a man for the remainder of their travels. "It’s for your own good," he would argue, as he took a knife to her hair, cutting the dark locks down to the back of her head, she now didn’t have an option in the matter. Before he would joke and tell her that it could get grabbed or caught in something while they fought creatures of the night together, but now, now it was a matter of safety.

While he himself no longer struggled with her newfound identity, there was no telling what would happen to her if some trodden man with ill intent were to get their hands on her. Trevor had no doubt in her abilities to protect herself, having seen first hand how far she’s progressed strength wise and with her very limited knowledge of Druidic magic she had learned as a child, he trusted her wholeheartedly, it was man he did not trust.

He meant well, Trevor would often tell himself as he found himself speaking for her, when in social situations. Her voice was just too soft, too melodic, he really had no idea how he never noticed before, even when she tried to deepen it to let her speak up or go off on her own, so Trevor tightened the proverbial lease he had already had her on because of her curse. No longer could she venture out into the marketplace on her own, no longer could she bathe in an inn, when he forced her to take a bath, without someone guarding the door, no matter where she was Trevor was always one step behind her.

Sol complied with it all with her head held high taking in all the new changes in stride. She donned a cloak lined in fur, one of Trevor’s old ones, that was clearly a little too large and adjusted to having to wear bigger, more baggier clothing. The one thing she couldn’t wrap her head around though was how different the revelation had caused Trevor to act towards her. Ever since discovering her true identity Trevor had become much more distant, even though he was never far from her side he still felt miles away, and she greatly missed how they were before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the months rolled on, the wedge in their bond lessened slightly but didn’t completely dissipate, as she continued to do what Trevor asked of her. Trevor, albeit clumsily, tried his best to navigate the dynamics of their genders, not really knowing how to be around a woman who wasn’t a prostitute, but there was still an air of awkwardness to him when around Sol. He found himself wanting to protect her even more but not wanting to overstep his boundaries with her. In moments of solitude, Sol would sink deeper into her thoughts and let out her frustrations with Trevor, while she appreciated that he respected her identity enough to go to such lengths for her she wished he’d let her decide what’s best for her or at least let her speak for herself once in a while.

Having filled their packs with food the pair leave a village, the last one they’d be able to stop at for miles and head off into the forest. The night sky blanketed with grey storm clouds that had covered them in a downcast of icy rain and soaked them clean through to their boots. As they ventured further the rain stopped as the sky began to open up revealing the edge of the full moon that sat high in the night both Trevor and Sol too lost in their own thoughts to notice let alone remember that this was the night of a full moon, the moon they had been dreading of for the last month.

The air around them was thick with fog and the smell of the wet earth when suddenly Sol's demeanor started to change. Her breathing became ragged as she slowed her pace falling behind Trevor who stopped to look at her. Clutching at her chest the first wave of familiar pain washed over her as an unsettling energy crackled in the air. In an instant, she started to transform, her bones breaking as they grew and rearranged them, her flesh tearing from her body to reveal salt and pepper fur underneath as she ripped her clothes away with sharp clawed hands.

Trevor's heart raced with fear at the knowledge of what he would have to do, to protect not only himself but her as well from the creature she was becoming. He watched in absolute horror as Sol continued to change, her screams of pain at the metamorphosis causing Trevor to falter momentarily. He had seen this before, from both her and countless others over his years, but usually he was prepared, how could he be so stupid to forget that tonight was a full moon.

Worry and doubt clawed at his chest as he pulled his whip from his side as Sol howled high into the air as a full fledged lycan, her glowing blue eyes narrowing as her gaze locked onto him. His grip on the whip tightened as she lowered herself on all fours and let out a fierce growl that rumbled in his chest. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t have a choice. Fixing his stance Trevor leapt out of the way with swift precision just as she lunged at him, missing him by mere inches.

Trevor maneuvered around her, using every skill he'd ever learned over the years to counter her attacks, with a swipe of her claws she tore into his side causing his shirt to rip and his blood to flow. Angling the whip he swings it until it wraps around her neck, tightening as he uses the momentum to throw himself on to her back. Sol thrashes about wildly trying her best to buck him off, but Trevor holds steadfast as he secures a fist in her fur. As a lycan Sol was much bigger than him, almost twice his size, but still small for a lycan of her age, for which he was grateful as he used all his strength to restrain her.

“Sol get a hold of yourself!” He screams as she continues to flail and fight, she trips clumsily over the mud and her own feet she kneels and he uses the opportunity to pull a heavy silver chain from his pack, wrapping it around a wrist that had reached back to slash at him. Sliding from of her back Trevor throws the other end of the chain around her other wrist and pulls both ends back behind her, She howls in pain as the chain burns her, the weight of it not quite heavy enough to restrain her fully but enough to hold her down long enough so Trevor could tie her wrists behind her back. Flipping over her shoulder she pulls his whip forcing her to fall flat onto her stomach.

Bound with a combination of leather and silver, Sol growls baring her fangs at Trevor as he grabs more chains from her pack and uses it to bind her neck, staking the chains to the wet earth below.

Sol starts to struggle against her bindings, the silver burning wounds into her flesh. Trevor watches her as he holds his bleeding side while attempting to catch his breath. Clouds danced across the sky, momentarily covering the full moon from view, Sol’s fierce snarls echoed through the stillness of the woods ringing though his ears as he felt the warmth of his own blood seeping through his fingers.

Her muzzle scrunched up as her wolf features started to recede, trying to revert back to her original self, an overwhelming sense of helplessness washing over him as her face strain in clear anguish. Reaching out Trevor tries to caress her face to soothe her pain but she snaps at him, nearly taking a chunk out of his hand. Instead he settles for sitting across from her, his back resting against a large boulder as he watches her transform again.

Her body quivered and softened as her fur fell away and her bones readjusted, settling within her with a dull ache. “You are not your curse, Sol.” Trevor says, pulling his cloak from his body to cover her form, shielding her nakedness from the night air. “You are more than the darkness that has cursed your life,” he murmured, voice full of emotion.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she lay there on the cold hard ground, the only warmth she had being from his damp cloak. He wanted to unbind her and hold her tightly, reminding her that she was more than the darkness that existed within her as she sobbed. With a shaky breath Trevor peels himself from the tree with a groan, his injury making him slow to rise, and he kneels in front of her, stroking the top of her head and she wept, knowing this would be the only form of comfort he was able to provide for her until the night of the full moon was over.

Trevor sat by her side until the first rays of the sun painted the sky, leaning into her side as he watched over her, refusing to sleep until she was herself again. She had long since passed out, her body not able to handle the act of transforming more than once that night as the cloud drifted in the sky overcasting the moon.

When she finally awoke, Sol was aching all over, her wrist and neck, while no longer bound by silver chains were scorched and raw, her body, while no longer naked, was clothed in loosely fitting men’s clothes that sported the Belmont crest.

Trevor….

He must’ve dressed her in her sleep. She thought to herself as images from the night before flashed through her mind. Panic began to take hold as she recalled the lashing out at him the night before, tears prickling the corners of her eyes as she remembered the feel of his skin tearing under her claws, the horror of having hurt him gnawed at her as her pulse quickened and her breath caught in her throat.

Trembling, she sits up abruptly, tears falling freely now as she gasps out labored breaths pulling his fur lined cloak tighter around herself. She was so caught up in her emotions she hadn’t heard Trevor returning until he dropped the bucket of water he was carrying as he rushed to her side, pulling her face into his hands as he looked her over, searching her eyes for what was wrong.

She stammered out apology after apology, her fear and anxiety getting the better of her as her gaze shifts down to Trevor’s bandaged side, his gaze softening as he moves closer, wiping at her tear stained cheeks, he drops a hand to her shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly.

“It’s okay,” he reassured, his voice calm and steady over her sniffles as he pulls her into his chest tightly. “We’re ok. We’ll get through this.” In that moment, as Sol sobs against him, they both realize that no matter what happens to them along the way, no awkwardness or darkness could ever overshadow the light of the bond that they shared.

[jjngkook7]

Choices (3)

Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]

Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she's a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

She winced and shut her eyes as Jin pulled out the last piece of glass in her leg.

“And you’re done!” Jin chimed, “Now all we have left is to clean you up and put some ointment on you and you should be good as new.”

“Thanks.” was all she could muster. It was still hard to find her voice after everything her and Jennie had been through. Being in a room with six real life werewolves didn’t help either.

Taehyung had taken Jennie back to his house behind the cabin wanting nothing else to do but stay by her side. Jin and Mina came home right after the chaos, the brand new groceries they bought forgotten outside in the cold. Jin had reassured her that Mina would take the best care of Jennie as she vehemently opposed having Jennie out of her sight. She finally let Jennie go when Taehyung promised that he'd keep her safe.

The pain from Jin tending to her wounds made her want to pass out numerous times but her body fought the need to, afraid to be unconscious during such an unpredictable moment. Fortunately, the pack was very kind and comforting, except for one member who hadn’t said a word to her yet.

“You’re quite the fighter. I heard your kicks from up the hill.” Hoseok, the one with the bright smile complimented.

She could only smile back and shrug. She had met the pack once at Jennie’s birthday but never got to know them on a personal level. Everyone was too busy partying and attempting to tame Taehyung when he went sicko mode to have a conversation. In all the fairytales she read, none of the stories ever talked about how beautiful werewolves were and surprisingly hospitable too.

“Yeah, what you saw are called rogue werewolves. They’re incredibly disgusting and dangerous. They take pleasure in playing with their hunt often ripping their prey-“

“Jimin,” Namjoon turned to him with a forced smile, “I don’t think now is the right time. In fact, let’s give her some space guys.”

Jimin scratched the back of his head and offered her a quiet apology accompanied by a meek smile. One by one, the members followed Namjoon, offering a sympathetic look as they left. Jungkook was the last in the line, his footsteps heavy and his mind cloudy.

“Actually Jungkook, could you stay for just a few minutes. I have to go prepare some cream for these two.” Jin said, face still facing towards her.

“I-uh, sure.” Jungkook stammered.

“I’ll be right back,” Jin placed a hand on her head, “you’re in good hands.”

She felt the emptiness of his presence immediately. Jin was so warm and gentle, making sure to soothe her with words whenever she whimpered or flinched. Jungkook on the other hand had dark eyes complimented with a piercing gaze. He seemed uncomfortable and almost annoyed. She tried not to look at him because every time she did, that foreign feeling that she had when she first met him would fill her entire body.

She heard Jungkook take a seat on Jin’s stool, the legs squeaking against the floorboard.

“H-how are you feeling?” he asked.

Her eyes fluttered closed at the sound of his voice. If looking at him proved to be difficult, the sound of his voice was almost unbearable.

“You um..you did a good job,” he continued, “those things are sometimes hard for us to fight.”

She pushed back the sigh wanting to escape from her chest. His voice was soft and coated in honey. Realizing that she might look even more crazy than she already did trying to drown in his voice while covered in blood and cuts, she opened her eyes to face him making sure to look at his nose.

Jungkook saw her lips move but he couldn’t hear a thing. He was too hyper fixated on the details of her face to hear a thing. The drumming of his heart and the pulses of electricity shooting up and down his spine was quite the distraction as well. When Taehyung and him were racing down the hill, he could hear every sound she made but not Jennie, he only heard her. He soon realized that the adrenaline coursing through his body was because she was in danger. Jungkook had known for a long time how strong the bond between two mates was but now he was experiencing it first hand and he hated it. Having a human mate that was chosen for him was already irritating but now he had the ability to feel what she felt. Jungkook was losing control of his own life bit by bit and it’s all because of her. He turned his attention to her hands that were clasped tightly against her lap and felt his muscles relax slightly. She didn’t know what was going on and he wasn’t sure if she felt what he felt whenever they looked at each other. No one knew Jungkook’s secret and he was going to keep it that way.

“Um Jungkook.” He hated how much he liked the way his name sounded coming from her.

He looked at her with a raised brow, ignoring the pulsating energy going through him when he did.

“You’re bleeding.” she whispered pointing at his hands.

Jungkook furrowed his brows in confusion and looked down at his hands. It was then he realized that he had been digging his nails into his palm so hard that each one had drawn blood. She flinched when he got up with a jolt, the stool almost toppling over in the process.

“I’m going to check on Jin.” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his head down.

“Wait before you leave!” she suddenly called, both of them surprised by how quickly she found her voice.

Jungkook kept his hand on the doorknob, body still turned away from her.

“Why were you at my house a few days ago?”

Neither of them dared to move or breathe. Jungkook felt the doorknob growing warm by how hard he was gripping it. His mind was loud trying to run through believable lies.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jungkook lied, “try to get some rest.”

With that, he left not glancing back at all.

________________________

Tired eyes stared at Namjoon waiting for the leader to dismiss the pack. It was nearing three in the morning and many questions were still left unanswered. Where did the rogue wolf come from? Is there more coming? Why did it appear in public so comfortably? Namjoon was particularly stressed because he felt like he was letting his pack down. He was the one that was supposed to have all the answers but this situation perplexed him as much as the other member.

“I think we should just be happy that the girls are okay,” Yoongi spoke out, exhausted and wanting nothing but to sleep, “we should all get some rest and figure it out tomorrow.”

Namjoon nodded at Yoongi as a thank you to which Yoongi replied with a slight tug of his lips. The members all got up grumbling in response to show their dissatisfaction with how the meeting left them with more concerns. Jungkook remained seated watching as Namjoon carefully approached Taehyung whose eyes had yet to shift back to their normal brown hue. He heard Namjoon tell Taehyung not to worry too much before patting him on the back and retreating to his room. There was so much noise around Jungkook of footsteps, doors being closed, goodnights being exchanged yet for some reason, he could hear her breaths she was taking as she was sleeping loud and clear. Soon it was just Jungkook and Taehyung left in the living room, both tired but unable to sleep. Taehyung let out a deep breath as he let his body drop onto their sofa, hands tucked behind his head and eyes staring at the ceiling. Jungkook leaned against the armchair he was situated in and dropped his head over the headrest, eyes closed trying to block out her breathing.

“How’s Jennie holding up?” Jungkook asked.

“She’ll be okay.” Taehyung replied.

“That’s good to hear.” Jungkook said, reciprocating Taehyung's flat tone.

No matter how hard Jungkook tried, his mind kept wandering over to her. He wondered what she was dreaming about or if she was dreaming at all. He wondered if she felt the way he did whenever they were near each other. At the end of the day it didn’t matter what he wondered because he knew that most of the things he felt about her was not his own doing. As long as he didn’t act on his primal instincts, wondering should be okay.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Taehyung suddenly said.

Jungkook chuckled. The older one had a habit of talking to himself out loud and conjuring sentences that didn’t make sense.

“You and I were the only ones who knew that something was wrong.” Taehyung continued.

Jungkook didn’t reply, instead, let the older boy ramble. They were all used to Taehyung spewing nonsense. On some rare occasions however, they had gotten themselves out of some pretty sticky situations after translating some of Taehyung’s babbles.

“I know why I knew something was up but I wonder how you knew.” Taehyung pushed on.

Jungkook’s breath hitched in his throat. Taehyung was now upright, resting on his elbows looking at the youngest member with a sly smile.

“Jungkookie,” Taehyung sang and felt his smile grow bigger at the younger one’s irritation, “you found your mate.”

Taehyung didn’t flinch at all when Jungkook threw the closest thing near him across the room, not caring who it woke up. There was now a hole at the wall and the pack would give him an earful for destroying the tv remote tomorrow.

“Why are you hiding it? And why are you acting like such a piss baby?” Taehyung hammered on.

“I’m not hiding anything. I heard them from miles away.” Jungkook answered between gritted teeth.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and laughed, “You’re such a bad fucking liar.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Taehyung?” Jungkook growled, ready to rip out Taehyung’s throat.

The sound of something hitting the wall was heard from Yoongi’s room followed by him screaming, “Shut the fuck up!” Taehyung sighed and got up, shaking his head in the process. He approached the younger member not caring about Jungkook’s clenched fists or threatening demeanor.

“Don’t forget what happened to Namjoon before he knew it was too late.” Taehyung whispered, afraid that the leader could hear.

Jungkook lowered his gaze to the oak floors and watched Taehyung’s feet disappear from the living room going back to Jennie.

________________________________

It had been a few days since the attack. She was slowly gaining her strength back and all her wounds were healing in a miraculous pace thanks to all of Jin’s herbal creams. Jin had told her that the forest nearby was full of magical plant life that could cure any ailment. She was still debating whether or not she believed him because she heard him tell Jimin earlier to go eat a mouthful of mushrooms from the forest and die after he had teased Jin about something very miniscule.

She watched the pack and Jennie laugh through her bedroom window. They were all outside enjoying the fresh air. Jungkook and Hoseok were playing their own version of football while the rest were sitting on lawn chairs watching. Jennie was bundled up in multiple layers of clothing to keep warm while the boys were comfortable lounging in tshirts and shorts. She felt a small ache of jealousy in her heart. Jennie looked so at home and the pack seemed to regard her as one of their own. She wondered what it felt like to belong to a group and fully loved by so many people. She also felt silly for feeling jealous about Jennie’s Twilight life but damn what an exciting life Jennie had secretly been living. Once she was all healed up, she would return back to her mundane life and pretend like nothing from this week had ever happened. There was so much about this world she wanted to learn about now that she knew it was real. She found her eyes drifting over to Jungkook who was standing with his hands on his waist bullying Hoseok. His long black hair slightly sticking to his forehead from sweat and his eyes turning into crescent moons as he laughed made her stomach flip upside down. Jungkook was very easy to stare at and that was as close as she could get to him. She could never talk to him because he was never around and being too close to him made her body feel like it was on fire. Jungkook had some sort of effect on her that she had never felt before in her life. She had had boyfriends in the past but they had never made her skin flush and her stomach turn the way Jungkook did. She didn’t realize that the corners of her lips had turned up while admiring his features and her body leaned in closer to the window as if to take in as much as she possibly could meters away.

“How are you doing?” a voice behind her asks.

She tore her eyes away from Jungkook and turned around to see Mina standing by her door. Mina was so beautiful in every way. Her physical traits, her personality, her aura, everything. Like Jin, she was so comforting and soothing to be around.

“I’m doing a lot better thanks to you guys.” she answered, leaving the window and making her way around her bed.

Mina gave her a smile and entered her room. She watched Mina’s eyes go towards the window.

“Why aren’t you out there with them?” Mina asked, sitting next to her.

“Why aren’t you?” she asked back laughing when Mina sucked her teeth and nudged her ribcage.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a minute as she pondered how to answer Mina’s question.

“Honestly I just feel like an intruder,” she finally replies with a forced chuckle, “once I’m all healed up I will be out of all your guys’ hair!”

Mina shook her head and sighed.

“For the millionth time, you are not an intruder,” Mina calming voice filled her chest with a warm reassurance, “besides, I think there is someone who is very glad you’re here although it may not seem like it.”

She looked over at Mina who was staring at the wall in front of them. Although Mina didn’t say his name, she felt the butterflies in her stomach swarm. She felt like she was back in high school crushing on some boy she had never spoken to but had only seen glimpses of as he walked past her in the hallway.

“Who?” she asked curiously.

Mina got up, smoothing her skirt in the process before tousling the human’s hair.

“Whoever flashed in your brain just now is the one I’m talking about and the one you’ve been watching silently by your window over there.” Mina winked.

_________________________________

As the week passed, her relationship with the pack grew stronger but her relationship with Jungkook grew stranger. She was now able to opnely joke with everyone else and felt at ease eating at the dinner table with the whole pack. With Jungkook however, their relationship was at the stage of seeing each other at the end of a hallway and then going the other way. Whenever she did have to come into contact with Jungkook, she noticed that Namjoon and Mina would watch them with a knowing look. Tonight, she volunteered to clean up after dinner and Nmajoon volunteered Jungkook who protested but was immediately shut down by the leader. The kitchen that was bustling with noise and laughter a few minutes ago was now quiet; the sound of dishes clanking together filling the awkward silence between them.

“You don’t have to help if you really don’t want to.” she said, keeping her eyes on the dishes she was washing.

“I really don’t want to but Namjoon would kill me.” Jungkook mumbled.

Jungkook was in charge of cleaning up the table which didn’t take too much time. He watched her wash the dishes and felt guilty when he saw how much she was struggling just lifting up plates with her arms that had only begun to heal. Jungkook may resent her but he wasn’t cruel. Watching her hands slightly shake as she picked up a pan further proved his point that humans get nothing in return with this whole mate thing. He would get stronger, his senses sharper and his instincts better while she would just remain…human.

“Why don’t you just dry the dishes and I wash them.” Jungkook sighed, finally making his way next to her.

She didn’t respond, only scooting over to make room for him. There was a strict boundary between the few centimetres separating the two of them. It would only take one of them turning around to cross the border that the both of them had silently set up. Jungkook filled his side of the sink up with warm water and poured as much dish detergent in there to mask her scent as much as possible. It took every inch of strength within his muscles to not brush his fingers against her hand. He felt like one of those weird high school boys who had just hit puberty and wanted nothing more but a hug from any female that would look his way. Jungkook’s body ached for any kind of physical contact with her but he wouldn’t allow it. As the days went by, Jungkook felt more and more drained. It was mentally and physically taxing fighting against his instincts when she was living under the same roof as him. It didn’t help that his heat was nearing either. There were times when he would give in and allow himself some sort of gratification through a quick glimpse of her or lingering in a spot that she had left to allow her scent to embed into his skin. With his heat just a week away, Jungkook’s fill of stares and smells turned into a sick hunger. He would go to bed and imagine the things he would do to her during his heat. He’d wonder what she tasted like and if she’d get sweeter and sweeter the longer he went down on her. He’d try to think of what she would sound like taking his full length and how pretty she’d look dripping his load down her thighs after he was done with her. Jungkook would wake up with a raging boner that wouldn’t go away for hours and then he would get angry. Angry at how his body was reacting to some bullshit fate and angry at her. As his body grew more weak and his mind more chaotic, he almost started to hate her.

She cleared her throat in attempts to get Jungkook’s attention and to break the silence.

“So um, Namjoon told me that you’re the youngest in the pack. What’s that like?” she asked.

Jungkook frowned, almost rolling his eyes at how stupid her question was. This was another reason having a human as a mate was so frustrating. Jungkook and her come from two very different worlds. Her world was simple: wake up, go to work, socialize, sleep and repeat. Whereas Jungkook’s world was full of things that humans had been trying to answer for centuries and never getting close to solving. Majority of them didn’t even know Jungkook’s world existed.

“I don’t understand your question.” Jungkook said, plopping a washed dish on her side of the sink to dry.

Her throat began to dry up and she began to feel embarrassed for even trying to start a conversation with Jungkook. He was such a tough one to crack but she knew by how he treated his pack that he was kind, warm and lively. He even seemed to treat Jennie like a sister. But when Jungkook interacted with her, it was like a whole new person; he was distant and untouchable. Jungkook seemed to avoid her like a plague and she didn’t know why. Living with his pack for a week has peeled back many layers of reality for her. For one, magical creatures from fairy tales exist and yesterday she saw Namjoon chant something at the moon before a glowing circle surrounded their house. Apparently it was a safety barrier Namjoon set up every night but she was too freaked out to ask anymore questions. Knowing the little bit of information she knew now, she knew that the way her body reacted around Jungkook was too intense for it to be one-sided. Biting the insides of her cheeks, she decided to try to converse with Jungkook one more time.

“I guess since wolves have a pack dynamic and every member has a role to play, I wonder what it’s like to be the youngest member of a pack is all.” she tried to smile.

“Are you equating us to wild animals?” Jungkook scoffed.

She dropped everything in her hands to face Jungkook with widened eyes, “What? No! I just thought it was similar. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Jungkook mirrored her actions and turned to her. His body completely towering over hers and his amber eyes burning a hole through her head.

“You’ve only been here for a week. Keep your ignorance to yourself until you leave please.” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

Her widened eyes from earlier now cold as she leaned closer to his face, the both of them ignoring the surge of electricity traveling through their body from her actions.

“You’re an asshole,” she said, almost hissing, “I’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant the way you’ve been treating me this whole week.”

She stepped away from him, not being able to handle the way his breath felt on her cheek. Her fists were clenched tightly against her body as she felt her anger begin to rise at the werewolf.

“And don’t worry, I’m leaving tonight. Thanks for your hospitality.” she instantly regretted saying what she did. She had no way of going home unless someone offered to drive her or call her an uber. She wouldn’t even know what to input as her location. Magical forest or Werewolf forest perhaps?

“You can’t leave tonight.” Namjoon’s voice spoke.

Both her and Jungkook jumped at the sudden sound of his presence. Namjoon was leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. His jaw was clenched and his foot was tapping against the floor in an impatient beat. She felt her body relax at the sight of Namjoon. Throughout her time here, Namjoon had made her feel the most seen and safe. He willingly answered any questions she had and always made sure to include her in conversations during lunch or dinner time.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home but I think I have worn out my stay here. I’m leaving tonight.” she was able to muster one last time before pushing past Namjoon to her bedroom. There was so much she wanted to say to Namjoon and the pack before she left and maybe never see them again. She’d deal with how to contact them in the future to thank them properly for taking care of her but right now, she needed to go.

“We leave you alone with her for 5 minutes and now she’s leaving.” Namjoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jungkook shook his head as he stared at the empty spot she was just standing at. A part of him felt guilty for pushing her so far away but a bigger part of him almost felt relieved that she was leaving. He could finally sleep and breathe. What he did was wrong and maybe when he finally found a new mate, he would find her and apologize for his behavior in the future.

“Her choice. You always tell us to respect other people’s decisions.” Jungkook smiled smugly despite knowing the tightline he was walking with Namjoon.

“Unless it is a decision that is harmful to themselves or others.” Namjoon snapped back. The leader grinded his teeth when Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“She’ll be fine. One of us will drive her home or whatever.” Jungkook sighed, wanting Namjoon’s holier than thou attitude to leave him alone.

Jungkook knew he had fucked up when he saw Namjoon take a deep breath and smile fondly at him. The leader approached him and placed both his hands on Jungkook’s shoulder, shaking his body slightly in almost a playful way.

“You’re right Jungkook! She’ll be okay because of the safety barrier I’ve put up these past nights. What are the barriers for again?” Namjoon asked, keeping a sickly sweet smile on his face.

Jungkook felt his chest tighten up. He had forgotten.

“Rogue wolves…” Jungkook answered in a hush when he remembered.

“Yes, rogue wolves. Their numbers the highest during this quarter of the moon. But she’ll be safe-oh wait! The barrier only stretches so far and she lives in the fucking city.” Namjoon’s face now dark and his grip on Jungkook’s shoulder tightening.

“And what do rogue wolves like the most, Jungkook?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook refused to answer because he would have to tell the truth about her. Instead, he turned his head to face away from the leader.

“Her body is still weak and if she leaves tonight, she’ll die. Unless you’re willing to stay at her house day and night for a week to protect her from the rogues because what do they like the most Jungkook?” Namjoon asked, his voice harsh.

Jungkook’s eyes lowered to the ground, his shoulders falling alongside his gaze.

“Unclaimed mates.” Jungkook finally answered in a whisper.

“Get up there, apologize and stop her from leaving.” Namjoon pushed Jungkook’s body slightly before releasing his hold.

“She’s leaving? Why?”

Jungkook turned to a new voice entering the kitchen before groaning. By the kitchen’s entryway stood a scared looking Jennie and a jackass looking Taehyung.

“Why is she leaving?” Jennie asked again, worried eyes darting back and forth between Jungkook and Namjoon.

“No she’s…not. I have to um, I have to go talk to her.” Jungkook cleared his throat pushing past all three bodies and resisting the urge to punch the grin off Taehyung’s face.

She ignored the faint knocking on her door and continued to layer up as much as she could. She knew her plan was stupid but it was the only option that would allow her to leave without stirring up any conflict. She would leave while everyone was sleeping, walk through the forest until she reached a highway or a familiar location and call an uber. When she arrived home, she’d text Jennie and apologize for leaving abruptly before turning off her phone and sleeping until the next year.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the knocking finally stopped. “I’m just going to open the door.” Jungkook’s voice said from behind the door.

She froze as she watched the doorknob slowly turned. As the door opened, she braced herself for anymore shit he would spew at her only to reveal a defeated version of the spiteful man from earlier. Her eyes narrowed trying to figure out what he wanted as he closed the door behind him. Feeling embarrassed and ashamed, Jungkook kept his gaze focused on her neck. When he found that doing that made the lewd images in his mind that he usually formed at night to emerge, he decided suck it up and just make eye contact. The moment they locked eyes, he felt an ache in his chest so extreme he almost clutched his heart. Her eyes were flooded with tears and her face flushed indicating that she had been crying. Whether they were tears of anguish or anger, it made him feel physical pain.

"This mate thing is going to fucking kill me soon." Jungkook thought.

He didn't have time to process this new feeling or get angry how much control he was losing over his own body. He needed to convince her to stay for just a little longer. After a minute of silence, Jungkook finally spoke.

"Do you know what a mate is?" he asked, too stubborn to apologize.

She sighed and sat down on the corner of her bed, far away from him. She leaned back against her hands and stared at the ceiling, too exhausted to think.

"Kind of." she simply answered, not wanting to elaborate.

Jungkook looked out her window. The sun was just starting to set and they had a few more hours until Namjoon's safety barrier was needed.

"Let's go for a little walk. We have some things to talk about." Jungkook said.

[Hello! Sorry for the late upload! I hope your new year is starting off great!]

[starlitangels]

Last Night of Tour

Literally everyone and their mom has done a rockstar/band AU for Redacted characters... but it's my turn now 4.0k words

—

Lovely

The house lights dimmed. From our spots right up against the stage, Tank passed me a pair of earplugs. I twisted them up and put them in my ears. Tank did the same.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted honorable persons, please welcome to our stage here tonight:

“The House of Solaire!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the excessive amount of loudspeakers and the crowd went absolutely wild.

With the earplugs in, everything was tolerably loud, but not earsplittingly so.

The band ran out onto the stage. Vincent at the front, as always. And the screaming and cheering rose to an absolute breaking point. I was more grateful than ever for my earplugs. I cheered and whooped along with everyone else.

Vincent took his place at the front center of the stage. Lead vocalist. Keyboard. Front man.

Tank shouted beside me as Sam followed, going to the back center and carefully sitting on his stool behind his drum set with the band logo on the large bass drum. He picked up his drumsticks and twirled one in the fingers of each hand.

Alexis jogged out next to only slightly-less uproarious applause. She went the farthest across the stage and scooped up her electric guitar, slinging its leather strap with an embroidered red rose over her head and under one arm. She hit a test power chord and everyone in the crowd went nuts.

Frederick slipped out after her, walking instead of running or jogging. The crowd was still going wild even though he wasn’t looking them in the eye. His partner stood on Tank’s other side, earplugs in and staring at him intently, but not screaming or anything. He carefully slid his bass guitar strap on and took up his position.

Vincent yanked his microphone off its stand. Solid rose-gold. “Gooooood evening Dahliaaaaa!” He beamed broadly while the screaming got even higher pitched. “We are The House of Solaire and we thank you for such a big—warm—welcooome!”

More screaming.

Tank nudged me with their elbow. “Your man knows how to put on a show!” Their shout was nearly drowned out but I could see most of it on their lips. We were used to this by now.

I smiled wide and nodded.

Vincent snapped his fingers to a rhythm while looking over his shoulder at Sam. Sam clacked his drumsticks together, matching it.

He hit his drums, getting started. Alexis struck her first chord.

The crowd lost it with recognition. You Mentioned a Blackout was the single that really put them on the map, as it were, and was still one of their most popular songs ever.

Vincent had written it not long before we officially got together, but he wrote it because of me. He’d written it while I was unconscious and asked sheepishly if he could play it for me when I woke up. The sheet music was covered in the frenzied work of inspiration desperately trying not to be lost—and a few water stains of tears. No matter how many times I told him it wasn’t his fault, he never listened.

He held eye contact with me the entire time he swapped between working the crowd and playing the keyboard. Smiling and giving me a dramatic wink.

"I told you once and I meant it— "If you touch what's mine again— "You won't have time to regret it—"

The crowd sang along to the chorus, bouncing to the beat Sam was hammering out. Tank, Frederick's partner, and myself included.

Vincent strode out from the main stage and onto the jetty that jutted into the crowd, high-fiving reaching fans as he passed them, bent low and still singing.

On his strut back to the main stage, he paused during Alexis' solo long enough to fall to his knees, reach down for me, pull me up enough to plant a kiss on my face—to a swell of screaming cheers—and get back to the main stage.

When the song came to a nearly-explosive close, the crowd cheered.

Vincent whipped his glossy blue-black curls off his forehead, beaming. "Man, it is good to be home!" he said into his mic. Everyone whooped. "How's everybody doin' tonight?" More raucous cheering. Vincent raked a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. His white V-neck T-shirt was almost obscenely thin and would get replaced by a tank top at intermission. It was loose around his torso but clung tight across his shoulders.

Damn it looked good on him.

"I'd introduce that last song, but I think you folks already know it," he remarked. "Y'know. That song gets a good reaction everywhere else, but nowhere near as excited as it gets here in Dahlia." He chuckled as several excited whoops went over the crowd. "We've got a pretty special show for you all tonight. It's the last night of our Surge album tour and—" He paused while the crowd screamed. "—and we've got some very special guests tonight. But before we get into that, how about Fangs After Dark?"

The crowd lost their minds.

Sam clacked his drumsticks together again, looking at Frederick, before hitting the bass drum with his pedal. Vincent pounded his long, slender fingers into the keys of his keyboard.

Several songs came and went. The three of us knew them all by heart. We heard them all the time. So did the crowd, apparently. A local band making it big on the rock-and-roll scene was certainly something to celebrate in a college town like Dahlia.

Toward the intermission, Vincent picked up a little hand-towel from his keyboard stand and wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck. "Alright, alright, alright!" he said into his microphone. "Before we do our last song before the break, how 'bout a little intro for the band that needs—no—introduction?"

Screaming again.

Vincent chuckled. "House of Solaire. A little diddy, if you will."

Sam started gently tapping out a beat on his bass and snare drum, adding little cymbal flourishes. Alexis and Frederick kept rhythm on their instruments, Alexis improvising a melody.

"Over here on bass guitar, we have Frederick Collins! Give it up for Freddie!" Vincent announced.

Cheering went up across the stadium.

"And back in the back doin' his thing, we've got the best damn drummer in the world—Sam Collins!"

The audience went absolutely nuts. Sam actually smiled. Tank put their fingers in their mouth and let off several earsplitting whistles. Sam glanced at them and rolled his eyes affectionately, but we were close enough for me to catch his wink, so Tank definitely did too.

"And on my left we have my big sister. The most talented electric guitarist in Dahlia—no, in all of California itself—Alexis Solaire!"

The reaction wasn't quite as loud as Sam's reception, but Sam had always been one of the fanbase's favorite band members. Tank knew it too, and tended to be a little defensive of him.

Vincent let the screaming die down. "And last but not least, we have myself on lead vocals and the keys. My name is Vincent Solaire and I am proud to present The House of Solaire and our new album Surge to y'all tonight!" Even with all the loudspeakers, the end of his sentence was barely audible over the absolute bedlam of noise that erupted from the audience.

Vincent smiled. "Before we go to intermission, I give you a song I wrote for the love of my life." He glanced down at me and grinned. "Everybody give it up for Electric Soul!"

Another popular one that they'd released about a year ago.

The crowd went wild.

—

When the band came back on stage after the intermission, T-shirts and flannels had been exchanged for tank tops. They'd cleaned up and dried some of the sweat off a bit. The audience cheered.

Vincent didn't say anything to whip the crowd into a frenzy. Just looked back at Sam and smiled.

Sam clacked his rhythm signal and Alexis hit a power chord right in beat. A song Sam had written for Tank. Vincent still sang and led it but the lyrics had been a bit of a love letter. A very rock-and-roll love letter. Which I thought suited the two of them perfectly.

"Hold me tight and kiss me— "Before we damn near bleed out— "Darlin', don't you dare miss me— "I love you too much to see you pout—"

I watched Sam keep his gaze steadily on Tank the whole song. He always did when they performed this song and Tank was in the audience.

When the song ended, Vincent clapped along with everyone. "That, uh, that one was Before We Bleed," he said. He let the cheering swell and die down. He had a good instinct for it and always seemed smooth, not awkward while waiting for the crowd to calm. "So. Who here are fans of Milo and the Wolves?"

A fair portion of cheers rose over the crowd. Not as loud as the rest of the night had been, but still loud, even through the earplugs.

Vincent nodded, pacing back and forth across the main stage. "Oh good. I'd hoped so. Very good friends of ours. Yup. Very good friends." He smirked. The jumbotron behind us caught it, and so did the screens on either side of the stage. "We have one of their former members here tonight. And they're gonna do a song with us," he continued.

More cheers.

Tank was unbuttoning the flannel they'd stolen from Sam.

"You didn't tell me!" I shouted.

They gave me a cheeky wink.

"Everybody give it up for Tankerrrrr!" Vincent called into his mic.

Tank shoved the flannel into my hands and leapt up onto the stage with a single bound in just their tank top, skinny jeans, and combat boots. They gave Vincent a side-arm hug as they passed him, ran off stage, and came back a single second later carrying their guitar, extended above their head in victory while the crowd cheered.

They slung the guitar strap on, took up a mark right next to Vincent, and flicked a guitar pick into their fingers from seemingly nowhere—but I knew it came from a special little pocket in the thick leather cuff bracelet they wore on their left wrist. They twiddled a knob on their guitar. One I knew meant they were turning up the gain for the real hard rock sound, compared to the more alternative style of The House of Solaire.

Not even waiting for Sam to count them off or Vincent to introduce what song they were doing, Tank slammed into an intro.

Frederick's partner and I screamed in support for our friend while the crowd joined in with us.

The song Tank played was a Milo and the Wolves song that Tank had written years ago called Tougher Than You, and their original band had been more than happy to give The House of Solaire permission to play a cover for a concert.

Vincent's voice was fundamentally much different from Milo's—the lead vocalist, obviously—but Vincent delivered a sincere cover that showed he'd put work into nailing the spirit of the song.

"If you hit me down, I'll hit you too— "Try to put me down— "But I don't lose— "Baby, don't you know— "I'm tougher than you!"

Tank sang the harmony with Vincent into the black mic on a stand that had been placed there over intermission, lifting their strumming hand off their guitar for just a moment to grab at the mic and hold it close to their mouth, letting their rich, sultry voice fill the loudspeakers.

I craned my neck to see Sam past his drum set.

Gazing, as I expected, with absolute, utter desire at Tank. Probably only keeping the rhythm on muscle memory alone. The tattoos covering both his arms shone with sweat.

I snickered, the sound completely drowned out by the stadium. Sam was entirely taken with Tank and he deserved it. I always thought they were cute together.

Tank struck back against their strings hard, backing a step away from the mic so when they bent in half in a headbang as they resumed their solo, they wouldn't smack their head on it. The crowd was jumping along hard, too.

When they ended, they gave Vincent a side-arm hug, ran their guitar off-stage, and gave Sam a long, dramatic kiss before rushing back toward me and leaping off the stage. Sam's ears were bright red as I handed Tank back the flannel and they put it back on. I threw my arms around them. "That was amazing!" I shouted.

They smiled. "Thanks," they said loudly. "Been a long time since I played in front of a crowd this big! Felt good! Felt... normal."

"Everybody give it up for Tanker!" Vincent called again.

The crowd cheered.

—

Darlin'

The stadium was finally cleared. The house lights had come on a long time ago and the stadium staff was cleaning up. Mopping up sticky, spilled soda and alcohol from the concrete floor, sweeping popcorn and discarded wrappers.

Vincent had taken his keyboard into his dressing room. I heard him singing Faithfully by Journey to his partner as I walked past. "O-oh you stand... byyy me—I'm forever yooouuurs—faithfully..."

Sap.

Just off-stage, my electric guitar was sitting up on a stand, its gig bag case haphazardly discarded not far away. I scooped up the gig bag and sat cross-legged in front of the guitar. "Hey beautiful," I said softly to it, digging into the gig bag's front pocket for an old cloth with some polisher stains on it. I pulled the guitar off the stand and into my lap, wiping at its amber-gold body and polished wooden head, including the tuning pegs. Giving it a little bit of a shine and clean-up.

"You take better care-a that thing than you do yourself, darlin'," a voice remarked. With a familiar Southern drawl.

I smiled and looked up.

Sam stood there, leaning slightly on a pair of enormous stacked amps, a set of drumsticks poking out of his back pocket, arms folded over his chest. In the light from the house and the regular lights of the stage, the tattoos all down both of his arms glistened just slightly where his tank top left them exposed. His hair was still a little disheveled from the performance.

It was a very hot look on him.

"People always tell us to take better care of our babies than we do ourselves, right?" I asked, finishing the last bit of wiping up and gently tucking my guitar into the gig bag, zipping it up.

A member of the tech crew that had been moving equipment backstage approached, holding her hands out for the guitar bag. I hesitated for just a moment before passing it over. I trusted The House of Solaire's usual crew. I was just protective of my guitar.

The tech shuffled off with it.

I spun to face Sam again. "So. Last night of tour. How's it feel to be done and free for the next couple months?"

Sam shrugged. "Ready to take some time to relax—but you know me. I'll get restless fast."

I approached him and hooked my fingers around the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him close to me. "I can help with that," I whispered, leaning close to his ear.

He chuckled low in his throat. "Well, I look forward to that," he said, voice low and soft, turning his head to kiss behind my ear. Goosebumps rose all the way down my spine. I shuddered a little bit. His hands wrapped around me and he held me close. I held onto him too.

Vincent still singing Journey to his partner was barely audible over the sounds of the stage and house crews packing and cleaning.

Sam rested his chin on my shoulder and looked around. "How'd you ever give this life up, darlin'?" he asked. "I don't think I can."

I smiled and sighed out my nose. "I needed a break, at least. After the break-up and Nomadic's PR people doing their damnedest to throw me under the bus and try to ruin my image... stepping off the stage was the easiest choice I'd made in a long time. David, Milo, and Ash all understood, and Ash had been wanting to try to take up lead guitar for a while anyway. So after they found Christian to take up bass guitar, Iii... left."

"Ever think you'll rejoin?"

I snorted. "I'd love to, on one hand. On the other... it'd mean even less time with you. Being back on tour at different times... or even the same time... I wouldn't be able to take a weekend and fly to wherever you're playing to see you."

Sam massaged his fingers into my hips. "Guess you have a point," he said.

I hummed, letting go of his hips to run my hands up his arms, tracing the lines of his tattoos as I passed them. "You know, I swore off dating rockstars after things with Quinn fell apart," I remarked.

Sam kissed my neck. "What changed?"

I sucked in a shuddering breath. "I met you," I replied.

He smiled against my skin. "That a good thing?"

I snickered. "A very good thing, smart mouth."

"Mm... then why don't you do somethin' about this smart mouth of mine, darlin'?"

I kissed his neck, feeling the way he relaxed under the contact. "Oh I plan to," I replied.

—

Lovely

"Y'know, it's kinda funny to me," I began, watching Vincent lean over the counter of the vanity station in the dressing room.

"What is?"

"You take off all those piercings and put on a nerdy T-shirt and normal jeans and no one recognizes you out in public," I said.

Vincent removed the earring from the helix of his left ear. The only one he ever left in between shows was the industrial on his right. He spun around to face me, leaning back against the counter. "That's part of cultivating a public persona. People expect the tight, plain T-shirt with the V-neck and the black skinny jeans and big boots. The dozen piercings. The rockstar eyeliner. No one recognizes... just some guy in a T-shirt with I Am Groot plastered across the chest. Put me in a grocery store and I'm just a taller-than-average nerd. No rockstar to be seen."

I scoffed. "No. You're not just some guy. You'd still be waaay hotter than everyone else in that grocery store."

Vincent laughed and held his arms out for me. I hugged him. "I think you're a little biased, lovely," he whispered.

"Oh definitely," I said.

His hands slipped under my shirt. And hesitated, as always, over the scar across my back.

He wrote You Mentioned a Blackout after a former lighting tech of the band's had been making jokes about The House of Solaire's lighting rig being enough to cause power outages in the smaller cities they played in. That lighting tech—Adam—had been making more of those jokes while Vincent was showing me around a venue before we were officially together. Just flirting. Adam had, apparently, been watching me intently while working. Tried to flirt with me after. When I turned him down, he had "accidentally" dropped a small light fixture he'd been setting up over the stage. It glanced off my shoulder on its way down and knocked me forward. It had already been attached to live wiring and the electrocution and strike knocked me out.

Needless to say Adam got fired after the incident. But the scar of the electricity and the light fixture remained—and Vincent was always hesitant to touch them. He'd been wracked with guilt when I woke up in the hospital. Made it his personal mission to take care of me while I recovered. Put a tour on hold before it even really started—their tours always started and ended in Dahlia—to make sure I got better.

And along the way, our feelings deepened and we fell properly in love. We'd been together ever since.

I knew Vincent still felt guilty about the "accident" but I tried not to let him dwell on it much. Including pushing him past his hesitance to touch the scar it left behind, almost three years later.

I kissed him. "Excited for the after party tomorrow?"

"I will be if I get enough sleep," he replied. "I love touring but, God, it leaves me exhausted."

"I know, baby. But you get a couple months off now. To rest and relax and recharge. Then you can get started on your new album."

He snorted. "Lovely, you know I wrote nine songs while on this last tour, right?"

"Wait, really?"

"Hours upon hours on a bus between cities? Yeah. Plenty of time."

"What'd you write?"

"Mostly yearning for you. A few love letters to the places we visited. None of them are at a stage that they actually fit our usual style but I just... I don't know. I can't not write new songs. Taking a couple months off just means I'll keep writing more songs. Alexis and Sam probably will too. Just not as many as me. But it'll be a passion project at that point. Then maybe later get to be an album."

"You're adorable," I said.

Vincent smiled. "I'll play them all for your while we're home."

"You'd better." I pressed another kiss to his mouth.

He deepened it immediately. "Oh God, I missed you baby," he whispered. "Doesn't matter how many weekend shows you flew out to see. I miss just being with you all the time."

"Me too."

—

Darlin'

I really had to hand it to Sam on his foresight. The stool of his drum set was sturdy and steady. Able to bear the weight of two people.

The crew usually saved the stage itself for last to clear, so we had plenty of time to sit on his drum stool—me straddling his lap—and make out. His hands, warm and callused, were just barely under the hem of my shirt on my bare skin. We were passionate, sure, but not exhibitionists. And the house staff was still cleaning the stadium seating area. We were mostly blocked from sight by the drum set, but better not to go too hard while there were still eyes on us.

Still, he was warm beneath me and his hands on me were heaven. I ran my hands down his back and slowly extracted his drumsticks from his back pocket. The muscles in his back relaxed more immediately.

"How's this for doing something about your smart mouth?" I whispered.

He chuckled. "Ohhh... I think it's just right, darlin'." He kissed me harder. "So. Next tour, gonna play with us at more concerts?"

"Mmm... maybe. Vincent and William haven't officially offered yet." I ran my hands over his hair. "But if you're just asking me to go on your tour with you... I can probably arrange that."

Sam dug his fingers into the skin on either side of my spine. "We've got a while before that happens. But I'd love it if you could join us. Hell, maybe Vincent and Fred can bring their partners too. Maybe it would make the band less sick-a each other by the time we're done."

I snickered. "Maybe," I agreed. I kissed him deeply again. "We'll see, cowboy." I pressed more kisses to his cheeks and forehead. "Now kiss me like you mean it and let's celebrate the end of this tour, yeah?"

"Hell yeah, darlin'." He rocked against me and met me in a kiss that I returned enthusiastically. I threaded my fingers into his hair and tugged on it, making him moan into my mouth while I stuck my tongue in his. His body was so much more relaxed when we were like this. Loose, wild, carefree.

I loved every second of it.

And, judging by how he was moving, he did too.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @shellssstuff @thegoldenlittlerose @darlin-collins

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 50

First - Previous - Masterlist - Next

Kuroki had thought, originally, the reason why he hadn’t been scheduled much since Savanaclaw’s whole… thing was because people weren’t visiting the Mostro Lounge as much, and therefore there wasn’t as much need for a second ‘nonthreatening’ server. Kuroki had covered all of Smee’s shifts while his coworker was injured, he thought it was only fair that Smee would get prioritized now that he was able to work again.

But then Smee had come over during their class on Yajugen. Kuroki had paused, his pencil half off the page. Because, yeah, Smee was a TA, but Kuroki didn’t really need help right now? Did he look stressed or something? Or… more stressed than usual? He thought he was doing fine. Relatively speaking, at least.

“Hey, man, you good? I haven’t seen you at work in a while…?”

Kuroki blinked at him.

A realization hit him over the head. He took a pencil to paper, making a note to check out a book from the library later.

He smiled at Smee. “I think you’ll see me around more, don’t worry. Can’t leave my favorite senpai hanging!”

Smee had to have known it was meaningless flattery, but he still smiled and blushed bright red.

Until Professor Hook called out to him and he had to go running back over. Ah, the inconveniences the working class has to put up with…

Kuroki looked down at the new note on his study guide, drumming his pencil on his desk.

(He skipped his next class. It wasn’t like he had ever really cared for choir, anyways, and his voice was always so quiet that he doubted Professor Kaa would even notice that he was gone.)

~

Kuroki stepped into the Mostro Lounge, the familiar sound of jazz washing over him. He hummed along, absently, making his way through the kitchen, mumbling “Behind” whenever he got too close to someone working, because he was not in the business of getting stabbed or doused in hot oil.

He was in the business of getting what he was fucking owed.

He saw the exact moment Jade caught sight of him, and sent his senior a slightly nervous smile. He had, somewhat, gotten used to the primal terror that loved to take him over whenever he got too close to the Leech twins.

Unfortunately for him, he just generally had anxiety about being around people who could and would beat him up, so he was still utterly terrified because of that.

“I didn’t know you were scheduled for today,” Jade said, more for the sake of being polite than anything else.

“I’m here to meet Ashengrotto-senpai, actually!” Kuroki said, bowing slightly, trying to resist the urge to cover the back of his neck with his hands.

Jade brought a hand to his mouth, chuckling. “I see. Then, I suppose I should tell you that customers need to buy something while they wait to meet him. We do not appreciate loiterers.”

Kuroki nodded his understanding and took a seat at the bar. He was half tempted to ask for a shot of ‘liquid courage’, but alcohol tastes terrible, so he would pass on that. Instead, he got himself a plate of nachos that was way too expensive and picked at that while he waited.

He spun around in his bar stool, watching the patrons of the Lounge. Business was booming, if only because there were so many people waiting to see Azul. No one was meeting each other's eyes.

Kuroki thought back to the contract Floyd had once tried to rope him into. Something about how If you’re from another world, Koebi-chan, you’re toooootally gonna fail your tests, right? Kuroki was a little insulted by their lack of faith in him, though he supposed it wasn’t personal — Floyd was trying to pick at a perceived insecurity, which was just part of being a salesman.

Kuroki had always known better than to trust a damn salesman, though.

He wondered, absently, what these people were getting themselves into. What the catch was.

The door at the back of the Lounge swung open. Azul was smiling widely as he led a Savanaclaw student out of his meeting room.

Kuroki sighed. It was one of the people on the Savanaclaw Magift team. Antlers Man. Whatever his name was. Kuroki didn’t particularly like the guy (literally didn’t even know his name), but he felt a little bad for him. The guy was clearly lacking brain cells, Azul was kind of messed up for taking advantage of him.

Azul’s eyes locked onto Kuroki, and for a second the boy’s expression dropped in horror.

0/10 performance, senpai, take notes from, like, any of us Ramshackle people, we could do better, Kuroki chided, mentally. Though he was smart enough not to let this thought show on his face, which only proves his expertise in this particular subject.

Azul hesitated, briefly, before striding over, his weird cane thing gesturing at Kuroki. “It is rude to show up uninvited, but in the spirit of benevolence, I will hear you out!”

Kuroki smiled, leaving his half-finished nachos on the counter, hopping off of the stool and lacing his hands behind his back. “How gracious of you, senpai. Did the Headmaster give you lessons?”

Azul’s eye ticked.

Jade looked like he was having the time of his life. He handed Azul something, and then continued on with his work, mumbling something about how it was a shame Floyd was skipping today…

Which, first of all, hell yeah! No Floyd!

Second of all, Azul was now eating a shrimp cocktail. Okay. This was fine, probably.

“Many people know I’m here,” Kuroki lied, just to ensure that Azul didn’t actually try to eat him. “Just… for the record.”

Azul gave a thin-lipped smile and continued to usher Kuroki into his meeting room.

Oh, they actually had a decent chair on both sides of the desk this time! Probably for the sake of lulling people into a false sense of security before they sold their — souls, or whatever. Still, Kuroki appreciated this much more than the plastic chair he’d been given the last time he was there.

Azul took a seat opposite him, folding his hands on his desk.

“What brings you here?” Azul asked. “Are you interested in one of the Lounge’s services?”

Kuroki gave a small hum. “Actually, I noticed a small discrepancy in my pay. You see, I got the bonus for all of the hours I did during the Magift game, but… funnily enough, I never got Worker’s Comp.”

Azul grimaced, caught.

If he had just scheduled Kuroki as normal, Kuroki wouldn’t have even thought about it. Why would he? He wouldn’t naturally assume Worker’s Compensation was a thing in this world — it just wasn’t something he thought about often.

“Yes… I was attempting to determine just how much the Lounge owed you. You were treated quickly, and there was little reason to assume you would get hit with a stray Magift Disk during the game… it made the situation a little gray.”

Kuroki nodded, slowly. “Well, luckily for you, I seek an alternative means of compensation.”

Azul’s eyes narrowed. “Such as?”

“I would like to cancel any deals my friends — Enma Yuuken, Ito, and Grim — have ever made with you, and ask you to never make a deal with them in the future.”

Azul blanched in surprise. “That’s… why aren’t you including yourself in that?”

He was pretty sure that Azul was just trying to buy himself time to think, but Kuroki didn’t mind answering regardless:

“Because I’m pretty sure you’d use it as an excuse to terminate my contract with you, and I really don’t want to have to find another job.”

“… I’m not sure this is an entirely equal arrangement.”

“I could always go to the Union and ask them why you took so long to even mention possible Worker’s Comp. to me,” Kuroki said, innocently. “And I’m sure the school would be interested to know why our schedules on the day of the Magift Tournament had a sudden alteration that prevented all of our workers from being in the way of that sudden stampede, almost as if you had known that it would happen ahead of time. Or, maybe, I should mention Leona-senpai’s use of a very difficult to obtain Mana Potion?”

The last one was a shot in the dark. Kuroki really didn’t know for sure whether Azul was involved with that, it was just something that he would do. But the way that Azul was getting progressively paler with every word was confirmation of a sort.

Hell yeah. Bluffing for the win!

And then, just to watch his senpai suffer a little, Kuroki added:

“How many other people here know about Worker’s Comp.? Are you giving the bare minimum benefits? Should the Union know about anything else?”

Golden light flickered in Azul’s hands, and before Kuroki knew it a contract was being shoved into his face.

He smiled as he looked it over. Everything was in order, even if the wording was vague in places (because Azul couldn’t admit on paper that he wasn’t complying with the Union’s demands).

He signed his name on the dotted line.

And then leaned back in the plush chair.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

~

Not even three days later, Grim took a sudden interest in Kuroki’s work schedule. Asking him which days he would have off… and Kuroki would usually assume that the monster was just missing him now that Kuroki was going to work again…

However, the way Grim came home sulking the next day, mumbling about stupid fish, was a small hint towards the monster’s true intentions.

Kuroki breathed a sigh of relief. They were already poor, no need to get indebted to Azul somehow.

As for Ito and Enma… he hadn’t really expected them to go to Azul, the guy was visibly shady. Kuroki simply… hadn’t wanted to risk it. They had shown they were willing to cheat in dire circumstances, back during the Culinary Crucible, and Kuroki would have stressed about every little increase in their grades, natural or not, until exams were over.

In the end, Kuroki never noticed any strange behavior from either of them, so he thought it was safe to assume that they hadn’t gone to Azul.

(Not that they couldn’t fake that, of course, they were both decent actors when they wanted to be. But if Kuroki spent too long thinking about that, he could and would spiral over that thing he wasn’t thinking about right now, so he was ignoring the possibility.)

~

Ah, thought Kuroki. Consequences.

He had thought that Azul wouldn’t have any easy ways to get back at him. He needed Kuroki to be on the waitstaff, so he couldn’t really force Kuroki to get the short end of the stick shift-wise, not without hurting his bottom line. He couldn’t fire him without getting in trouble with the Union. He couldn’t even pull a classic Japanese Evil Boss move and exclude Kuroki to try and make him quit on his own, because Kuroki would love to have an excuse to not interact with others.

He had been invulnerable to anything and everything Azul could throw at him.

Now, his customer service smile was more of a grimace, because he had forgotten about the fucking Leeches.

“Koebi-chaaaaan,” Floyd sulked, practically laying across the bar. “Why don’t you ever go Pistol Shrimp on us?”

“Because my pistol got confiscated.”

Floyd blinked. “What.”

Kuroki blinked right back at him. “What were you saying?”

“I — you had a pistol?! And it got confiscated?!” Floyd said, suddenly perking up, as if he had never been upset at all. Kuroki… wasn’t sure this was a win.

Kuroki sighed. “Yes, I did, now can you please keep your voice down?” He set down the shot glass he had been polishing. It was, typically, best to go along with whatever Floyd wanted, lest you put him in a bad mood, so — after a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying attention to them — he, briefly, pulled a fake gun from his suit jacket. “I would prefer people don’t know that this one is…”

He trailed off, mostly because Floyd had jumped to his feet, smiling widely.

Ah, it seemed he was going to be having a bad time regardless of Floyd’s mood. Damn.

“Fight me!”

“U-uh?” Kuroki said. “No thanks? I’m trying not to die.”

Floyd was, apparently, not taking no for an answer, because he grabbed Kuroki by the arms and hauled him up, right off of the floor, dragging him bodily over the counter and starting to carry him away. If Kuroki wasn’t very invested in the whole ‘not getting his ass beat’ thing, he would have probably made a joke about it.

And then he realized that it wouldn’t help him either way, because Floyd was apparently very interested in fighting him.

“Don’t you know anything about consent, senpai? No means no.”

“Not funny, Yuuya-san. That is a very sensitive topic that you are joking about,” a new voice chimed in, and Kuroki was torn between screaming and crying. A strange, slightly garbled sound tore its way out of his throat in its stead. He wasn’t even all that embarrassed, because why did Jade have to be here, too?!

Kuroki just wanted to do his job!

“Should’ve fucking let Azul fire me during that deal. Could’ve played dumb ‘n everything. Would have been less of a hassle…”

(He could’ve been a really cute librarian, like Grim suggested way back at the beginning of the year! Or! He could work in the infirmary! Crowley hates work, Kuroki can take over for him! He would rock a stethoscope! Or whatever the magical equivalent of one was!)

He’d spoken in a mumble but, it turns out, the Leech twins’ hard of hearing-ness was only applicable when Kuroki wasn’t being actively carried by them.

Jade smiled. “Oh? And what, exactly, did your deal with Azul entail?”

He blinked, stunned into silence.

“Don’t worry, Jade. You’ve already used your UM, but I can get the information out of him the old fashioned way!”

Kuroki spluttered, and only half because Floyd had just tossed him to the ground and it did not feel good. “That’s what this is about?! You could have asked, you know!”

Floyd frowned. “But that’s no fun.”

“Hurting me isn’t ’fun’, either!” Kuroki snapped back.

“Wrong,” Floyd said.

How was he supposed to respond to that?!

“Now, now, Yuuya-san, you said you would give us answers, don’t attempt to change the subject,” Jade said, sharp teeth on display.

Kuroki held his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t trying to distract you guys!” He would have been more subtle about it if he had been. “I just —…”

Wait.

Azul hadn’t told them what happened? Is that why they’d been paying more attention to Kuroki as of late? Why didn’t Azul say anything? Weren’t they all supposed to be pretty close?

Unless.

Ha.

Hahahahahaha.

No way! Was Azul actually embarrassed?

Kuroki snickered into his hand. “Oh, I’d be happy to tell you about it. Hell, I’d do it through song, if you want.”

“Oh, sweet! Do you need a beat?” Floyd asked.

Kuroki hesitated. “That… was a joke.”

Jade gave what must have been his best approximation of a pout. “Aren’t you in choir? I’m curious as to your singing prowess.”

“How do you know about —?” Kuroki remembered the background check they’d done on him at the beginning of the year. He sighed. “Nevermind. So, what happened was…”

So, he regaled the two Leech twins with a colorful account of his meeting with Azul. He hadn’t told Enma and Ito (he didn’t want them to know — he didn’t know how they’d react — and, if he was lucky, they would never find out), so he might have been a little… pent up? It was strange. He’d never been a particularly social person back in his own world. His throat had ached a little, towards the end of that first day, after he’d shouted at everyone to get them to stop arguing… if he hadn’t gotten that healing potion from Crowley, he might’ve actually lost his voice at some point. He had never had people to talk to like this, he hadn’t known he could be so… reliant on others. To the point where the words were spilling out of him so freely.

Or maybe it was because he was scared the Leech twins might kill him if he didn’t tell them everything.

Or, worse: they might keep bothering him.

At least they would leave him alone once they got their answers.

~

They did not, in fact, leave him alone after they got their answers. In fact, it felt like they were actively trying to be even more annoying now.

”Wooooah,” said Floyd, his head on Kuroki’s shoulder. Kuroki had been placed in the kitchen today, the Sevens only know why. Maybe Azul was getting back at him for telling the twins what happened, maybe Jade had meddled with the schedules. “It’s real shrimp fried rice!”

”This is beef fried rice, actually, senpai,” he said, in the tone you speak to a small child who had said something extremely stupid and were now explaining a basic concept to. “That’s what the customer ordered.”

”You sure do like playing dumb, huh?” Floyd said.

Kuroki’s hand stilled on the cutting board. He had never really… thought of Floyd as observant. If anything, he’d thought the opposite. The guy clearly held no regards for social graces. Even the simple ones, like give the people you don’t know fucking personal space. He had, kind of, just assumed that the guy didn’t know, and it wasn’t as if Kuroki was going to stick his neck out and try to teach him.

But, no, Floyd might actually have a brain rattling around in there. This was, in his opinion, far worse. Kuroki’s hand twitched with the sudden urge to use the paring knife he was using to cut vegetables for something far less kitchen-safe. It would even hurt extra bad, because he was cutting chilies right now.

This mental image calmed him, somewhat. Which was, probably, not a good sign for his current mental state. But whatever. He smiled, and it wasn’t even all that forced.

”No, I think I’m just actually stupid.”

”I hear your grades are pretty good, though. Especially considering your situation.”

”Poor people can get good grades, too, senpai,” Kuroki said. “Lack of money does not necessarily indicate a lack of talent. Usually it’s actually quite the opposite!”

Floyd laughed. He tugged on the tiny puff of hair in Kuroki’s ponytail, as if trying to punish him for playing dumb again. “I was talking about you being from another dimension, actually!”

Kuroki was going to kill this guy. Without lifting his head, he glanced from side to side. If anyone had heard, they were minding their own business. So… no one had heard.

Probably.

He pressed his palms into his eyes, groaning in a strange mix of relief and frustration.

And then he screamed. He’d been working with chilies. Right. Right.

Fucking ow.

At least his screams alerted Azul to the fact that something was off, because he poked his head into the kitchen. “Why are you here? You were scheduled to man the bar today.”

”I was — schedule changed,” Kuroki said, scrubbing his eye furiously with water. It was not helping.

Azul scowled. “I see. Well, get behind the bar.”

”Y-yeah, okay,” Kuroki mumbled. He considered staying for a little longer to soothe his eyes, but whatever. He could not handle any more time with Floyd today. He could deal with blurry vision for a while, if that was the alternative.

Who knows. Maybe he’d get more tips if it looked like he’d just been bawling his eyes out, out of pity.

He pulled his hair out of his ponytail and wrapped the… hair… band… thing around his wrist. It was borrowed from another Mostro Lounge worker, but Ito had a tendency to complain about how hard ‘ligas’ were to keep up with, so… theirs now. Thank you, random coworker, for your generous charity donation.

He made his way over to the bar, still blinking back tears.

”Here.” A towel touched his hand. It was wet, and smelled distinctly of milk. “Press this to your eye. It should help soothe the pain.”

”Thank —,” Kuroki started to say, only to pause. Because he knew that voice. If he gave a strangled scream, it was just because his eyes really hurt. “Thank you, Jade.”

”Of course! I wouldn’t want my coworker to be in pain. I’m not often put on bar duty, and I’ll need your help ensuring I don’t make any mistakes. Let’s do our best, today, yes?”

Is there no justice in this world?!

~

The doorbell rang.

The Ramshackle kids were stunned. They hadn’t known they had a doorbell. Ace and Deuce usually vented their frustrations on their front door — if Ace didn’t just waltz in like he owned the place.

Grim floated over to open the door. “Nice to see you guys have finally discovered electricity — oh! It’s Jack!”

“At least say Jack-kun,” Enma scolded him lightly.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Call me whatever.”

“Alright, Jack-chan,” Kuroki said.

Jack sighed and, surprisingly, didn’t rise to the bait. “That’s on me.”

“Nah, it’s on Kuroki,” Enma said, cuffing him over the head. He sent Jack a grin. “Hey, you’re early.”

“I’m… on time?” Jack said, checking his phone for the time. “Honestly, I think I’m a little late. You guys said 18:00, right?”

“Yeah, but Ace and Deuce are usually thirty minutes late.”

“I just — respect your time!”

“Eh, we don’t mind. They’re off, like, making out, probably, and I’d prefer they get that out of their system before they come here.”

“What’s ’making out’?” Grim asked.

“Kuroki, why are you all pouty?” Enma said, a little louder than was strictly necessary.

Kuroki pouted harder now that he had been acknowledged. “Why did Grim get off with a warning but I gotta deal with a bruise?”

“First of all, if you get a bruise from that you’ve got bigger problems. Second of all, Grim is way too small for me to feel comfortable hitting him. And don’t act like you wouldn’t be pissy if I hit him.”

Kuroki pouted even harder.

Enma rolled his eyes.

Ito poked their head out of the kitchen. “Hey! Jack, do you want something to eat?”

Kuroki’s eyes lit up. “Ito, Enma hit me!”

“Did you deserve it?”

Kuroki spluttered, his fake pout immediately dropping in sheer shock and horror. “What the fuck?!”

“You guys really are… spirited…” Jack said, glancing behind himself, as if he was considering turning tail and running.

Unfortunately for him, Ace and Deuce were actually somewhat on time today, somehow, and they all-but pushed Jack through the door.

“Ito, what’re you making?” Ace called.

They shrugged. “I was thinking about whipping up a few sandwiches. I don’t know what Jack can stomach.”

Deuce shook his head. “Nonono, it’s his first time here, you have to go big or go home!”

“We can’t go home, we’re already in our home,” Enma pointed out.

“Exactly! So you gotta go big!”

Ito crossed their arms over their chest. “Fine, fine. I’m guessing you guys want tacos?”

“Yes!” Ace said, pointing. “Make the red thing!”

“… the red — pico? Okay, sure, fine. I’ll make some.”

Kuroki opened his mouth.

“Jalapeños on the side, yes yes.”

He smiled.

“Jack, do you have any preferred type of meat? Or is ground beef fine? Because if not I’m going to have to send you on a quick grocery run, we’re out of everything else.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Um. It’s fine. But I thought we were all going to be… studying?”

“Can’t study on an empty stomach!” Grim said.

As if he could study on a full stomach.

~

The plan had been simple:

Step 1 was Food. It was a good step 1, Kuroki thought, probably the most important one. Not starving is fun. So is eating tacos. Hell yeah.

Step 2 was to study one core subject each.

Step 3 was to make everyone give a presentation on their chosen subject.

They would still have to study for their elective courses on their own, but… Kuroki was trying not to think about that, frankly.

The first years study session went as so:

Ito, the only person that could actually pay attention to Trein’s class and therefore knew what the man prioritized, gave an abridged history lesson. No conspiracy board this time, thank fuck, just a couple of study guides they’d written up when work was slow.

Ace was the best at math, so he had been put in charge of Personal Magical Ability. This wasn’t a core class, but it was close enough. Over half of the people present took it and, from what little Kuroki had overheard about it, the class was difficult. Kuroki didn’t want to know about how gravity and wind speed affected how your magic interacts with the world. Nor did he need to know, he was magicless. Convenient!

Enma had chosen his Magical Analysis class with Professor Yaxha. No one else was in it — a class on Magical Theory isn’t exactly the kind of thing the average teenager finds fun. But it actually did help the mages get a better understanding of their magic… probably. Jack, Ace, Deuce, and Grim all looked enlightened by the end of Enma’s lecture on visualization and observing those around you, at least. Kuroki, frankly, hadn’t understood a word of it. Nor did he need to! Once again, he couldn’t use magic, so who cares!

(Kuroki and Ito didn’t particularly mind being left out for Ace and Enma’s lectures, since it gave them time to whip up a quick marshmallow recipe, which was a nice break from studying.)

Deuce chose theater, because everyone present was in it, save for Kuroki and Enma. Because everyone else was lucky enough to not be from another world, and therefore didn’t have to spread out all of their classes for the sake of efficiently getting a grasp upon the new reality they had been thrust into without warning. They were free to take the only art elective that didn’t fully require you to put yourself out there.

And Ito had won nosegoes.

Kuroki wasn’t sure which side he hated more.

At least Ace was also suffering. Every time Deuce made a point, everyone would make him recite it, word for word. This was what he deserved for not doing a single page of the homework on his own this semester.

(Enma and Kuroki spent most of that time arguing over whether they should roast the marshmallows or not. Kuroki still held that the only reason Enma wanted to roast them was that he knew he would make their food spontaneously combust regardless of whether he was intending it.)

Jack had chosen Phys Ed. This was a little unfair, seeing as there wasn’t really much to teach in Gym class, but Jack was a sudden addition to their study group, and they’d had to scramble for something to make him do.

And, admittedly, for how little he had to work with, he did a pretty good job presenting. Next semester he would be a valuable addition to their friend group.

Kuroki, of course, ended up with Alchemy, because none of the others should be trusted to teach it, considering they didn’t understand it themselves. Kuroki himself was decent enough at it. It was mostly just following directions. Unfortunately, his friends were basically incapable of following instructions, so his job was essentially to drill all of the rote memorization into their heads.

If they got a good enough grade on the written portion of the exams, the practical portion might not be an issue!

Hopefully.

Thanks to the hours upon hours of his life Kuroki spent poring over their Alchemy textbook, though, he finally figured out why Ito’s cauldron kept exploding:

“Mana! It is a Thing!” he said.

“Ohhhhhhhh…” said Ace. “I’m stupid.”

“Nah, Ito is,” Deuce said.

“You’re not getting dessert,” Ito mumbled.

Ace and Deuce never learn, do they?

Deuce hit the floor. “Aghhhh my blood pressure… it’s so low… I need… sugar…”

Ito raised an eyebrow. “Or salt.”

“… noooooooo...”

Kuroki waved his hands for their attention. “Guys? Hello? I’m trying to fix our explosion problem?”

They, reluctantly, paid attention. Kuroki huffed. He was trying to make sure they didn’t have any more accidents! He had spent an entire day trapped in the same body as Ito last week! He didn’t want a repeat of that event! Please!

“Right, so, Mana, yeah?” Kuroki said. “It’s in everything. When you stir clockwise, it increases the potency of the potion — and, therefore the mana.”

Enma hummed. “I mean, yeah, they didn’t know what clockwise and counterclockwise meant until very recently, but they’re left-handed, wouldn’t they accidentally stir counterclockwise more?”

“… Ito is left-handed?” Kuroki asked, devastated. His theory!

Ito nodded. “Technically, I’m ambidextrous. Most lefties are. But, yeah, I prefer my left hand.”

“Freak,” said Ace, his nose scrunching.

“Dessert,” Ito reminded him.

“Nevermind.”

Ito nodded, once, approvingly. Then they turned back to Kuroki. “I stir with my right hand, though.”

“Oh, wow, left-handed people are just like the rest of us!” Jack joked.

Jack can make jokes? Wild.

Ito rolled their eyes. “It’s so I can prepare ingredients with my left hand at the same time.”

“Anyways, Ito, I am going to drill the difference between clockwise and counterclockwise into your head. Also, stir counterclockwise to dilute potions, don’t add water. It is not cooking. Water has a lot of mana, you’re doing the opposite of what you’re intending.”

Ito huffed. “Alchemy sucks. Is it too late to drop out of school?”

“No! You have to stay!” Grim said.

Ito looked somewhere between touched and wary, as if they were waiting for the catch.

Indeed, Grim soon realized that that sounded too nice, and promptly course corrected:

“Because you’re the best cook here! I can only eat so many omelets.”

“Hey! Why am I catching strays? Make fun of Enma for burning shrimp instead!” Kuroki pointed at him.

He wasn’t sure whether Enma was more offended by the pointing or the reminder of his lack of cooking prowess.

“Excuse me?!”

Kuroki screeched as he was pulled in a headlock, a hand messing up his hair. He called for help, but to no avail.

Even Jack stood by and did nothing. Apparently this visibly uneven fight wasn’t the kind of thing that he would get between.

Damn it.

He hates this school.

~

Grim did not have to do a presentation. Because it was Grim. He gets special privileges.

(And no one wanted to fail, which would certainly happen if they put the fate of their grades in the monster’s hands. He didn’t even have hands! He had paws! How could he properly cradle their fates, how could he keep them from harm, when he had no opposable thumbs?)

When Grim questioned why he hadn’t been forced to do a presentation, Kuroki recalled, loudly, that they had yet to eat dessert. Grim didn’t burn the dorm down, and they got sugary goodness out of it, so Kuroki was calling this a win overall.

~

“Alright, so… practical magic exams…” Enma looked over the four mages in the room. “How about you all try and use each other’s go-tos? Magic is all about visualization, right? You all know each other's magic pretty well…”

Because they’re constantly fighting each other.

Enma cleared his throat. “Alright. Grim, try Ace’s wind magic. Ace, try summoning something. Deuce…” He glanced at Jack, before shaking his head. “Try Grim’s fire magic. Jack… uh… I guess take your pick?”

Kuroki’s eyebrows knit. Why wasn’t anyone trying Jack’s magic? Does Enma not know how closed circuits work?

His thought process was cut off when a cauldron went crashing through the floor. Ace grinned widely.

“I’m so good at magic.”

“… we should have done this outside,” sighed Ito.

“You’re covering repair costs,” Kuroki told Ace, flatly.

Ace swore, loudly.

Enma sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How about all of you mages get some practical magic practice in and summon enough gold to fill this hole?”

“That’s more of an Alchemy thing,” Jack admitted. “And it's super high-level, too…”

Kuroki perked up.

“Nicolas Flamel? King Midas? Watch out, I’m about to steal your shtick.”

“Going to steel their shtick?” Enma asked.

It was hard to tell who groaned the loudest. Jack looked like he was back to wanting to leave and never come back.

“And right after I do that, I’m going to murder Enma.”

“Deserved,” said Grim.

Enma rolled his eyes. “I’m not eating your bell peppers for you anymore.”

“Wait,” said Kuroki.

“Hold on,” said Grim.

“C’mon, man, I was kidding! Don’t do this to me! Do you want me to die? You’re going to kill me —!”

[btsydtrash]

Euphoria [8]

bad boy jungkook x librarian yn

Jungkook was used to getting what he wanted. He was handsome, disgustingly so, and he knew how to flirt his way in (and out of) danger. He lived for and with his brothers. He didn’t know anything but his found family. Still, happening upon you was one of the best decisions he ever made.

Now… How to make you realize that your life was missing him as much as his had been missing you.

(angst / yandere / smut / gore / fluff)

Masterlist  /  i don’t have a tag list  /  find me on twitter  /  word count: 4.0k

author’s note: yn’s not going down without a fight tho, is she?

Chapter 8 ‘Mission’

When you wake up, you are stunned to realize that you had actually been able to fall asleep under the circumstances. Usually, you would have been too uncomfortable to truly relax, but here you were, slobbering all over their expensive-looking couch.

It wasn’t dark outside by any means but it was significantly later than you had expected it to be.

The sun was high in the sky hidden behind the film of heavy clouds, so you presume it to be around early afternoon. The world below you was alive and bustling, despite the gray and drab weather and, humorlessly, you realize that it seems to match your mood perfectly.

Your skin feels heavy from where it had been pressed heavily into the soft sofa and as you lift your head fully, you can sense that you aren’t alone. Pressing into the grooves of your skin, you slowly turn your head toward the source of the soft sound of turning pages.

It wasn’t Jungkook, thankfully.

Jimin glances over the head of his comic book and says, “Don’t mind me.”

Unconsciously, tension leaves your body.

Jimin, objectively, wasn’t any better than Jungkook to have around - both of them being your captors - but something about waking up to see Jungkook’s metaphorical wagging tail and puppy dog eyes would have set you off something fierce.

Your nerves are shot, trembling lightly where they fist the material pooling at your stomach, and you glare at the other man, annoyed by the nerve of his sunshine-like expression.

“I wasn’t going to,” you grumble, voice croaky and thick with sleep. You clear your throat and sit up, feeling the urge to relieve yourself. Begrudgingly, you ask, “Where’s the bathroom?”

Jimin looks up and asks, voice filled with sarcasm, “You aren’t going to try and climb out the window, right?”

You glare at him but he simply shrugs. Jimin explains, “I got put on YN-watch tonight, so I have to make sure you aren’t left alone. At all. Jungkook would kill me.”

You say, barely able to hide your pout, “This is insane, you know that right?”

Jimin nods in agreement. He explains, easily, “Sure. It’s also incredibly illegal. But that’s never stopped us before.”

You scoff, lip curling in annoyance, “Right. I shouldn’t expect decency from people like you.”

He laughs, loud and sudden, like the sound was shocked out of him. “Decency? Says the person who held a gun on me and threatened to cut my eyes out.”

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” you retort, dismissively. Jimin pins you with a look and you huff, “Okay. But, I didn’t do it. That’s the important part. Plus, you had assaulted me first. I was just protecting myself.”

Jimin gives you a dry look, not even the slight bit amused by your excuses. The pink-haired man gracefully moves to his feet, tossing the comic back onto the table with a couple others from the same series, and he says, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Come on. I made lunch. You can shower, get changed then eat.”

He leads you out of the library and through the ornately-decorated apartment, too quickly for you to be able to take note of much besides the fancy decor and messy living room. Jimin walks to a room and pushes open the door. The first thing you notice is an expensive-looking drum-set in the corner of the room, a pair of overhead earphones sat on the stool and a worn pair of drumsticks are on the computer desk.

Three of the four walls are dark, charcoal black wallpaper with a slightly raised design that you wanted to trail your fingers across. One main wall is ivory white, with a huge bed pushed into the corner, low with many soft white pillows piled at the head of the bed. The room is smaller than you expected but it seems designed that way, as if comfort and coziness was the aim instead of grand expressions of luxury.

You say, eyes sweeping around the area, “This is Jungkook’s room, isn’t it?”

You miss the bemused expressions that passes over Jimin’s face. He hums. “Yeah, it is.”

The floor is coated in dark gray carpet, soft but it feels reinforced under your feet. You suspect there’s a couple of layers of carpet to insulate the room. Two paintings are reclined against the white wall, and they don’t seem to be designer, but they could be hung in an art gallery somewhere. They fit the soft dark aesthetic of the room and you want to take a closer look but Jimin pushes open a door you hadn’t seen when you first entered.

“Jungkook won’t mind if you use anything of his,” he comments. He opens up a drawer and hands you a towel. It’s soft and it smells good, even when you hold it at a distance. One thing you have noticed about being in Jungkook’s space was that the freak was tidy - anally so. Contrary to the rest of the apartment that had dots of mess, clothes draped over furniture and dishes in the sink, showing it to be lived in, his personal space was pristine. You almost didn’t want to touch anything, in case you knocked it out of its perfect harmony with the rest of the room. “Wear something of his, a sweater or something.”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble. “Give me something of yours.”

He snorts. “You see this?” He points to his black eye. “I got this for just mentioning you. I refuse to lose a tooth because he sees you in something of mine instead of his.” Jimin lets out a small chuckle at the gentle shock on your face. “It’s that or you walk around naked.”

“I’m tempted to take you up on that but I’d rather die than give you the satisfaction of seeing my perfect tits in real time,” you snark. You roll your eyes but bring the towel closer to your chest. “Go.”

Jimin smirks but disappears out the way you both came.

With the sound of the door closing behind him, you feel the strong wall you had built up inside of you collapse for a moment before your frown deepens. You slump against the doorframe leading to the bathroom and close your eyes, holding the towel tight to your chest.

You have to figure out how to get out of here, and fast. You have to figure something out before Jungkook gets back.

Jimin is on edge around you. He won’t turn his back to you. He was probably told to keep you in his line of sight every second. It’s a fortune he left you alone to wash your ass, but perhaps the risk of actually seeing a pair of breasts had the pink-haired maniac running for the hills. He didn’t seem averse to women, but then again, you weren’t one to judge, having found yourself twisted in the sheets with every flavor of the human-rainbow - some of them, more than once.

You walk into the bathroom and struggle with the knob of the shower. It comes out powerfully, and takes mere seconds to warm up. It was enticing, the urge to wash the last couple of days off. You have to be careful of your hand, the burn tingles a little but it doesn’t hurt - not enough to take any medication, at least. You stare at yourself in the mirror, watching your reflection slowly becomes absorbed by the steam filling the room. You wipe a hand across the surface of the glass, so you can see your own face, before you hang your head in surrender.

You had come to a wretched conclusion during these few moments of blessed freedom.

For now, you would have to play their game.

And that meant doing as they wanted, no matter how frustrated it made you feel.

You shower, taking care of your wrapped wrist, and dress in a pair of boxers fresh out the packet and a huge sweater. You practically drowned in the material, having to roll the sleeves up three times before you could see your own hands. Jungkook had a huge collection of socks and you grabbed the funniest looking pair you could find - yellow and green spots with a cartoon frog stitched on either side. You looked stupid, but it was better than nothing. And his clothes smelled divine.

Once you are done, you toss the towel in the dirty basket in the corner of the room and open the door, walking out into the hallway. Only to trip over Jimin’s body sat distractedly in front of the door and fall straight to the floor in a crumpled heap in his lap. The two of you look at each other for a beat, strangely close, before he shoves you off, sending you rolling.

“Holy shit,” Jimin gasps. “You’re fucking heavy.”

He swats at the invisible dirt on his shoulders and straighten out his pants as he moves to his feet. “You sure took your time.”

You roll your eyes and get up by yourself. What a dick. “Whatever. You said you made lunch. I’m hungry.”

He stares at you for a long moment before he glances away. “Follow me.”

Jimin leads you into the living room and nods to the comfy looking couch. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog,” you snap but do as you were told.

He snorts and yells from where he had disappeared into the kitchen, “Dogs follow commands much better than you do.”

You bite down on the urge to bark back at him. Instead, you pull your legs up to your chest and glare at the huge TV across from you. The screen was showing a preview for a new romance drama that you had heard about but you had no intention of watching.

Love stories rarely moved you in a positive way. Instead, they filled you with a strange cloying sensation, like being stuck in a hot, sweaty room with barely a sliver of wind. You search for the sweet relief that the wind should give you, but the feeling of overbearing heat persists. In fact, it only gets worse the more you move around. So, you try succumbing to the temperature, but that only makes you feel pathetic.

Looking or not looking at love in motion - either way, you felt suffocated.

Jimin returns and drops down beside you. He nudges your legs so you make space on your lap for the plate in his hands. He says, “I hope you don’t have any allergies.”

You roll your eyes. “It would be a little late if I did.”

He pauses for a moment before he laughs, a little meanly. “You’re right. Eat up.”

He had made dakgangjeong with a side of yellow rice. It smells fragrant and your stomach gurgles in hunger.

Jimin had already started chowing down but when he notices you hadn’t begun eating, he tosses you a scathing look. “What? It’s not fancy enough for you or something, Princess?”

You roll your eyes. “You gave me a plastic spoon.”

He scoffs. “Should I have given you a pair of chopsticks so you can jab the end into my eye and make a run for it? Not likely. Figure it out.”

You struggle a little with the food, getting the sweet-and-spicy chunks of boneless chicken and rice into your mouth, much to Jimin’s amusement. He lets out odd snorts when bits of meat misses your mouth and falls back into the bowl or into your lap, much to your annoyance. You jab him in his side with your elbow, only one time, sharp and purposeful, and he lets out a gasp of air.

“Fuck, YN,” he whines, rubbing at the sore spot. “What are you, made of metal?”

“Only 69%,” you retort, rolling your eyes. You ask, “Can we change the channel? All this love shit is giving me the creeps.”

Jimin looks your way before he nods. “I don’t like romance stuff either.”

“Why? You had no problem being all lovey-dovey with misery-guts earlier,” you retort. “I thought you’d eat this love crap up.”

“You mean Tae?” Jimin laughs, but the sound is strained. “Nah, that’s just… I don’t know, it’s just that we aren’t together-together.”

You rear your head back for a moment, running each incident of stomach-turning PDA you had witnessed in the very few interactions you had with both men, and you can’t stop yourself from asking, shock evident on your face, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jimin shrugs, running his tongue across his teeth a few times, contemplative, before he explains, “What Tae and I are can’t really be explained with words. He’s my person, you know? My soulmate. I look at him and I see everything.”

“You love him… But you aren’t ‘together-together’?”

Jimin nods, as if it explained everything.

“Why?”

“Our lifestyle isn’t really conventional,” he explains, a touch shyly. It didn’t suit the other man, who you had only ever viewed as sarcastic and cocky. He seems… soft. “Kookie, Tae and I are… fated. Right now, Tae and I have to stay as we are.”

You take a moment. “Isn’t that painful?”

Jimin looks at you, eyes a fraction wider in surprise. “A bit.”

“You’re being frighteningly honest,” you mutter. “Just date him. What the fuck could go wrong?”

Jimin bites his bottom lip. “There’s a lot we have to do before Tae and I can take that step. We… We just can’t.”

He’s being intentionally vague but you don’t feel like it’s your place to pry. You have your secrets, secrets that you would prefer to take to your grave if given the chance, so you shut your mouth and turn your eyes to the screen, leaving the pink-haired man alone to his rapidly-darkening thoughts.

Some time later

Jimin actually doesn’t leave your side for the whole afternoon. He walks you to the bathroom, to the living room, to the kitchen when you want a glass of water. It feels like you had grown a tumor overnight. If tumors made stupid comments, read comics at a snail’s pace or listened to female rap music a touch too loudly in its headphones.

You don’t even try to escape. The few times you were able to walk past the front door, with Jimin’s grip tight on the inside of your elbow, you noticed the lock there. It was a touchpad lock that required a passcode to leave as well as one to enter. You presumed both were different, but even if they had been the same, you hadn’t gotten a look at the password when you first got brought here because of Jungkook’s looming presence and Taehyung’s unnecessarily broad back.

Moments of absolute frustration flash through you during the few hours you spend lonely but not alone.

You feel bouts of sickening anxiety standing in the long hallway, seeing echoes of memories in the portraits and photographs lining the walls. Happiness is etched onto the faces of your three captors, making the trio seem friendly, approachable - kind, even. But, Jimin poking his head over your shoulder and giving you the backstory of each picture is enough to remind you of your involuntary incarceration and you are brought right back to the realization that these men are capable of more than you can even comprehend.

Barbs of nausea spike through your chest whenever you see a bird pass in front of the high windows, free in a way that you had taken for granted. It brings to mind your history, the one that you have tried so valiantly to forget, to escape, to out-run. The clawed hands of the ghosts of your past reaching out from behind a ragged and beaten door, one that is barely holding onto its hinges. One day, those same hinges were doing to blow apart and crumble into dust before your very eyes. But for now, you can keep those memories at bay and that’s enough.

It has to be enough.

You try to escape to the bathroom whenever this would happen to throw up, closing the door behind you while Jimin waited in the bedroom, pretending to be ignorant of the sickly pallor of your skin and the shallowness of your breathing. The bile in your throat tasted too familiar, waves of sickness crashing over you until you are left shivering. Jimin gives you a cup of green tea after, wordlessly. You don’t want to think of the pity that passes through his eyes that you caught sight of the one time you looked him in the eye.

Jimin texted a lot too. You didn’t have to ask who he was talking to.

Jungkook.

He comes back just before it gets dark.

The sky is cloudy, it had started to rain, and you had made a home in the armchair in front of the window, acceptance finally having settled like a blanket around your shoulders. You hadn’t moved for about an hour, staring listlessly out of the window, watching the people go about their lives.

The sound of the passcode being tapped in followed simultaneously by the scratching of paws catches your attention and Jimin perks up from where he is laying on his back, watching the flame flicker enticingly from the mouth of the intricately-designed lighter in his hand. He seemed to be enthralled by the flame, almost as if he were consumed by it.

“Bam!”

He hops up and opens his arms, only to be attacked by a huge, black dog.

The dog excitedly hops around Jimin, sniffing him all over, tail wagging in happiness. Jimin scrunches the dog’s face, giving him kisses all over the crown of his head, and he giggles.

He looks up from where he is patting Bam’s huge head and he says, “You got him back?”

Taehyung kicks off his shoes and walks into the room, grabbing Bam’s collar and tugging him gently to the kitchen.

“He wanted to come home,” he replies, simply. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence in the house, and while it didn’t piss you off because you wanted to talk to him, you still felt uncomfortable with the ease in which he dismisses you. It isn’t like you wanted to be here either!

Jungkook walks in behind Taehyung, quietly. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his mask still covering the bottom half of his face. He approaches you slowly, and your pulse increases with each step he takes. His eyes are a little wide, as if he were wrestling with a caged animal.

He drops to one of his knees in front of you and says, resting his mask on his chin, “YN… Did you have a good day?”

Jungkook gives you a small smile, gentle, and he reaches for your hand but at the last moment, thinks better of it, dropping his hand and letting it awkwardly rest in his lap.

You stare down at him. “What kind of a day do you think I had, genius?”

His hopeful expression shutters into something guarded. “S-Sorry. I just- I thought staying out would make you feel a bit more… relaxed. It might let you get used to... used to being here without... I don’t know, without feeling suffocated.”

“You thought wrong.”

He flinches. “YN…”

“If you thought you being away would’ve made me feel even an iota better, you would have never come back,” you snarl before shooting to your feet. “Jimin, I’m going to the bathroom.”

Jungkook grabs your wrist, loosely, and says, eyes watery, “YN, I’m trying-”

“Trying to what?” You snap. “Trying to piss me off?”

He sniffles, staring at the floor. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

You slap his hand away and stomp off toward the bedroom, feeling rather than seeing Jimin awkwardly trail behind you. Taehyung and Jimin share a long look, the younger of the two tossing a hard look in your direction that promised retribution of you kept up these brattish antics.

Taehyung got it - he really did.

But Jungkook was like a big kid, and you were breaking his soft heart.

Taehyung watches as Jungkook pulls a small bouquet from his backpack and feels his chest tighten up. He had hidden them there just in case Bam had gotten too excited in the car and crushed them with his tendency to jump on Jungkook’s chest.

The youngest wordlessly hands the pale pink flowers to Taehyung and walks into the kitchen. He swipes at his nose with his sleeve, pulling out a bottle of something clear from the refrigerator, and pops the cap.

“Kookie…”

“Stop, hyung,” he says, after taking a long gulp. His voice sounds like it has been cut with a thousands shards of glass. “It doesn’t matter. Give it to Jimin. You know he likes the color pink.”

Jungkook spends some time sitting on the balcony, right under the jutted out roof, trying like hell to ignore what he knew was going on inside. He contemplates every decision that lead him to the situation he has found himself in - maybe he shouldn’t have ever walked into the library in the first place. Maybe then he wouldn’t know how painful it was to watch your beautiful eyes fill with such a degree of disdain.

Once it started getting too cold, the rain soaking his hoodie and making him shiver, he comes inside. He pulls the hoodie off, tossing it into the corner, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he walks back to his room. YN is curled in the corner of the room, sleeping. You ignored the bed, choosing instead to wrap yourself up in his bedsheets and hide yourself away in the corner. Your hair is poking out from a small hole in the bundle of sheets and the steady rise and fall tells him that you are sleeping.

He showers quickly, leaving the door cracked slightly open because his anxiety wouldn’t let him leave you with an option to leave without him knowing.

Jungkook couldn’t even tell you how pretty you looked, you didn’t give him a chance.

He had run through the conversation a thousand times in the car with Taehyung. What to say to charm you, to compliment you on your smile and your eyes, how not to look at you for too long in case it made you uncomfortable, but somehow within seconds he had ruined it with his stupid mouth and lingering gaze.

A fresh wave of tears silently fall from his eyes, already puffy and sore from all the rubbing. He tries to stop himself from making noise by biting down on his bottom lip and shoving his knuckles into his mouth like he used to when he was a kid to keep the frustrated cries from escaping, but it doesn’t work.

He keeps crying.

And it comes from the core of him. The knowledge that he might never see the corners of your eyes crinkling in that same warm way he remembers from the library. He doesn’t care if it was a composition of all your best parts that you left on display, hiding the shadows of your personality behind a brick wall. He feels robbed of the experience of you.

He’s angry and frustrated and in pain, and it just doesn’t end.

Jungkook tries to ground himself in the moment. He traces his favorite tattoos, he counts to a hundred five times over just to keep himself from screaming and disturbing your slumber. He counts his breaths and snaps bands on his wrist so he doesn’t think about worse things like the molly he stashed in his drawer or the way it makes him feel.

Maybe if you woke up to find him near dead, it might make you feel something other than hatred for him.

The both of you lay on the floor that night, with Jungkook laying on his side in front of the bedroom door and you curled in a protective ball in the corner.

It wouldn’t be possible for you to leave without stepping over his body and he was a light sleeper, even without the anxiety coursing through his veins. Still, he doesn’t get a wink of rest that entire night, every time he thinks he can relax enough to actually drift off, his body jerks and he’s back to being hyper-alert again.

Jungkook counts his fingers, he taps out rhythms on his upper-thighs, he paces quietly, peeking at you every once in a while to make sure you were still breathing - some hideous part of him worrying that you might try to escape him in death.

He would follow you, you know. He knows he would.

He even brings Bam into the room so the dog can sleep on his legs, knowing that he has always found solace in Jungkook since he was a puppy.

He pats his dog’s head and hums out the bare bones of a song that is forming in his head, the melancholy and anguish that has built up in his spine finally easing as his fingers tap out a perfect rhythm on his toned thighs, wishing, instead, that he could be laying beside you, holding you tightly instead of simply watching you, obsessively, from across the room.

- end -

[drabbles-mc]

Exceptions (1/2)

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Part 2

Warnings: language, mentions of smoking/alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Been mulling over this little two-part fic for a while. Love me some Juice content haha. This part is all fluff, part 2 is a nice balance of angst and fluff. Hope you enjoy! xo

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You’d worked at the bar for a few months, and everyone was kind to you. But you hadn’t really become overly close with anyone. You knew how easily friendship could be construed into something else and you really were here because it was a good paying gig. You were a friend of a friend to the club so when they needed a bartender and you met the qualifications, they didn’t give it much of a second thought to throw you back there. You didn’t start trouble, didn’t ask too many questions, and made good strong drinks. They couldn’t have asked for anything more.

At the heart of it, it was nothing more than a customer service gig. Sure, most everyone you served was part of the MC or a friend of the club, but you didn’t treat them any differently because of it. The same as you had done at your previous gigs, you were nice but you didn’t tolerate any disrespect. There were a lot of egos put in check the first few weeks that you were working there and you were surprised that you hadn’t been pulled aside and spoken to about it.

Once you all sort of fell into a flow, the guys quickly realized that you were content to chit-chat but you were keeping them at arm’s length for your sake and theirs. There was something to be said about being ignorant to the goings on of SAMCRO. It wasn’t lying under oath if you really didn’t have a solid clue as to what any of them were doing. They respected that, even if they didn’t always like the way you would wave them off if they were talking about something within earshot of you.

Most of the guys had given up on trying to get cozy with you once you shot them down with a considerable amount of force. Opie checked in on you on a somewhat consistent basis—he felt a little obligated to keep an eye on you since Lyla was the one who had sent you in the direction of the club in the first place. He was always kind to you but he knew and respected that you had pretty firm boundaries with all of them, including himself. As long as you let him know that you were content, safe, and that no one was bothering you at the time, he would leave you be and you really loved that about him.

The only other person who would try to get and keep your attention was Juice. And that was how you found yourself trying and failing to bite back the laughter that you could feel building up inside your chest. You were leaning onto the bar, directly across from Juice who was plopped on a stool in front of you. He was talking about the antics that went down on the shop earlier in the day, and the way that he spoke and gestured, along with the light in his eyes, made it impossible not to laugh and get roped into every word that he said.

There was a boyish charm and innocence to him that you had to admire. He had tried to flirt with you at first and you shot him down instantly, not looking to start playing any games with anyone. He backed off for a little while, giving you your space. But after a couple weeks he wound up right back at the bar, coaxing conversations out of you whenever there was a lull in drink orders. He kept it platonic, carefully choosing his words so you couldn’t shoo him away for being flirtatious or inappropriate. For that reason alone, you rewarded him with some of your time. Plus, there were worse people to look at on the other side of the bar throughout the night.

The later it started to get, the more you tried to encourage everyone to either go home or back to their dorms. Or really just anywhere besides the bar. You hated trying to clean up around people passed out drunk everywhere. It only ever got out of control on the nights of big parties, but you didn’t see any harm in making sure that it stayed that way.

The main expanse of the bar was almost completely empty. There were a few girls getting ready to leave, and Juice was still sitting across the bar as you wiped it down and started stacking glasses in the dishwasher.

You chuckled and shook your head, “Don’t you have somewhere you gotta be, Juice?”

He shook his head, “No, not really.”

You looked down at your watch, “It’s late. Better get to bed if you’re going to wake up and actually make it to work tomorrow.”

“That sick of me, Y/N?”

You had to let out a quiet laugh when you saw his puppy-dog eyes, “You know that’s not true. I would definitely tell you if I was sick of you. Pretty sure I have before,” you laughed.

It got a chuckle out of him, “That’s true. Alright. I’m going to bed then. See you tomorrow?”

You nodded, “See you tomorrow.”

He wandered back towards his dorm and you let out a long sigh once he was out of sight. You looked around at the now-empty clubhouse and a wave of relief washed over you. You set about straightening up and throwing things away. This was easily the longest part of your shift—serving drinks was easy.

Once everything was cleared away, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer from behind the bar and hoisted yourself up so that you were sitting on top of it, legs swinging idly between the barstools. Never in a million years did you think that you would’ve ended up in this position. Then again, not much of your life was predictable or even felt like it was in your control.

You nursed your beer and soaked up the silence of the clubhouse for a while, finally deciding that it was time for you to leave and go home too. You locked the door behind you as you left, not that it really mattered all that much. You walked out to your car and drove home in silence, just glad to be free of the noise and chaos.

By the time the next afternoon rolled around, you were ready to do it all over again. You shimmied into your jeans and tank top, opting for a pair of comfortable boots. You saw how some of the girls could manage the whole night in heels and you admired their dedication, but that just wasn’t something you were capable of or that committed to. You needed to be able to move a lot, and move quickly. And also kick the shit out of someone if it came down to it.

You were setting up the bar when you heard the door open. You looked over, a smile passing over your lips for a moment when you saw it was Juice.

“This is early even for you, Juan Carlos,” you laughed.

He laughed as he set a coffee down on the surface of the bar, “Just wanted to stop and give you this.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Oh really?”

He held his hands up in surrender, his own coffee cup dangling lightly from his hand, “Just a friendly gesture. I know you were here late last night.”

You nodded slowly as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. You smiled over at him, “I’ll allow it only because this is perfect.”

He chuckled, “Good,” he waved and headed towards the door, “See you later, Y/N.”

You watched as he walked out of the clubhouse. You lightly drummed your fingers on the countertop as your mind raced. You spun the cup and laughed when you saw that he had written his phone number on it.

“In case you’re ever in need of a friendly conversation. Or bail.”

You chuckled and against your better judgment, added his number to your contacts. You didn’t know when you were actually going to reach out to him, but he was a good person to be able to reach, especially if you really did land yourself in some kind of trouble. A warm feeling spread through your chest and you tried to ignore it as you went back to what you were originally doing when he walked in.

You were lucky enough to not have to work the entire length of your usual shift. You weren’t supposed to be the only bartender even though it usually ended up feeling that way. They had the prospect filling in for the second half of the night and you liked him, but not enough to tell him that he didn’t have to work the bar. Giving him a loving pat on the back, you grabbed yourself a beer and headed out of the clubhouse.

It never ceased to amaze you how chilly it got at night despite the fact that the afternoons would be sweltering sometimes. Every night you told yourself to bring a sweatshirt and you remembered about fifty percent of the time. It wasn’t one of those nights, though. You felt goosebumps break out over your arms as you plopped onto the picnic table outside the clubhouse. You looked up at the sky as you sipped on your beer, letting your mind empty out a bit before you headed home.

You heard heavy footsteps behind you and you glanced over your shoulder. You smiled when you saw that it was Juice. He walked over and stood next to the table, looking at you with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Mind if I sit and grab a smoke?”

You eyed the joint that he was holding and you smiled, “Only if you share.”

“Fine by me,” he chuckled as he plopped down next to you, feet resting on the bench beside yours.

He flicked his lighter and lit the joint in his hand, taking a long drag off of it before handing it over to you. You smiled as you gently took it between your fingers. It had been ages since you last smoked, but you knew that Juice had good connections. Besides, if there was anyone in the club that you would trust with something like that it was Juice—he was too sweet to do something shady, especially to you.

You took a drag and fought the urge to cough as you handed it back to him. You slowly exhaled and laughed, “Sorry about the lipstick.”

He chuckled, “I’ve been told that this is a good shade for me, anyway,” he smiled as he put it back to his lips again.

The two of you sat there in semi-silence, passing the joint back and forth. He was usually so full of energy and had so much to say, you were surprised at how calm and quiet he was.  The outsides of your legs rested against each other and you glanced over at him, but he was so busy staring up at the stars that he didn’t even notice. You let it go.

Opie and Lyla walked out of the clubhouse, his arm draped around her shoulders. He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “All good?”

You nodded, “All good. Thanks, Ope,” you smiled at Lyla, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded and said goodbye as the two of them crossed the lot to Opie’s bike and left. With a deep sigh you felt your body shiver. Juice felt you tremble against him and he looked over at you.

“I can run and grab you a hoodie if you want. I got a bunch in my dorm.”

You shook your head as you stood up, “No, that’s alright. I should get going, anyway.”

“Already?”

You laughed, “Hey, I’m off the clock. I don’t gotta stay here until everyone leaves this time,” you finished off your drink and set the bottle of the table next to him.

“Want a lift home?” there was a smile on his face.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “Not tonight. Thank you, though.”

“Tomorrow night?” he raised his eyebrows.

You smiled and placed a quick, soft kiss on his temple, “Goodnight, Juice.”

You could feel him watching you as you crossed the lot to your car, and you shook your head to yourself as you tried to contain your laughter. There was something about him that made you let it go—if it had been any of the other guys you would’ve shot a snarky comment their way for their lingering eyes. But with Juice it was just different.

Once you got home, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding. You dropped your purse to the floor next to your discarded shoes and made your way towards the bathroom to shower and rinse off the night. You closed your eyes as the soap suds slid down your body and made their way towards the shower drain. There wasn’t a single thought that crossed your mind that really stuck—each one of them disappeared as quickly as they showed up, and that was more than fine by you.

After your shower, you pulled on your most comfortable set of pajamas and huddled down in bed with the latest book that you had been making your way through. With a deep sigh you let yourself really settle against your pillows and under your blanket. You opened the book and dove in. However, every few pages or so, you found your eyes straying over to your phone.

Finally, after arguing with yourself about it for longer than you should have, you grabbed your phone and sent a text to Juice, “Don’t need bail. Just wanted to say thank you for tonight.”

You assumed that he knew it was you, because the response was immediate, “Don’t have to thank me for anything,” a few moments later a second text came through, “I should be the one thanking you for not kicking me off the table”

You laughed and shook your head as you typed out your response, “Well in that case…you’re welcome”

Shortly after sending the message, you passed out. Your hand was loosely cupping your phone as you drifted off to sleep, as if you were waiting for something more to happen.

[sillyguyhotline]

ok joe and sara fic bc i’m predictable

The array of glittering emerald bottles, lined uniformly up on the shelf, seemed almost magical from the right angle. Each one caught the soft, almost-soothing golden glow of the bar lights, twinkling gently like a night sky rich with stars. It was a sumptuous facade of beauty marred only by the oppressive silence of the bar and the alcohol filling each glittering bottle.

Sara shifted on the bar stool, leaning over to try to see if she could glimpse her reflection in one of the bottles. She squinted, shifted again, but ultimately she could only spot a few distorted facial features and nothing more.

She’d appreciated the quiet of the bar at first, the deep mahogany counter and golden lights that made it seem more like a home than an actual bar. But slowly, as the minutes ticked onwards, the silence had begun to swell, to ring in her ears like an ever-present force.

She’d started sneaking glances over her shoulder, praying someone would walk in and disturb the peace. She didn’t want to leave the feeble little haven she’d created, not when any step forward was one closer to certain death.

Sara sighed and returned her gaze to the counter, idly tracing her finger along the grooves in the wood. Her fingernails were still clean and clipped short, a small blessing. How long would it take for them to grow out? She supposed that if they were still short, she hadn’t been passed out for too long- perhaps it was still the same day, and Ryoko was still fast asleep and safe in bed.

Then again, anyone who was capable of burning someone’s head off was more than capable of clipping a few overgrown fingernails.

She redirected her attention to the bottles, only to see a vague, warping motion reflected in one of them. Her shoulders grew tense, her brain flickered back and forth between turning and remaining still, sweat beaded on her forehead…

And then a solid hand came to rest gently on her shoulder and everything was alright.

“...Joe.”

He laughed softly, lifting his hand just as quickly and swinging himself into the stool next to her. “Man, I was trying to be subtle. Guess I need to work on my technique?”

“Yeah, how’d you figure that out?” Sara chuckled. “Next time, don’t bother with the subtlety, just come up, cover my eyes, and go ‘guess who?’ I definitely won’t punch you.”

“Promise?” Joe grinned.

“Promise.”

Sara giggled, then glanced back down at the counter. “I’ve missed you.”

Joe didn’t respond immediately; after a few seconds, Sara looked up to gauge his expression and found him contemplating the rows of bottles sitting before them. “...Only been gone for a few minutes.”

Sara, too, remained silent.

“But… yeah, it’s scary here. Not really sure I trust anyone here besides you. Even Gin seems like such a sweet kid, but I dunno who’s being genuine and who’s just putting on an act, y’know?”

“Yeah. Honestly, imagine how dangerous we must seem to the other participants. Well, of course, there’s-” Sara paused. “There was Mishima and Nao. And Kanna and her sister. But now we’re the only two people in the game who actually know each other. I’d be terrified if I was anyone else.”

“The only two people that we know of,” Joe corrected her softly.

Sara chuckled, albeit uneasily. “You’ve sure been quick with your suspicions.”

Joe drummed his fingers on the table, and Sara caught the faintest pink of an embarrassed flush painted across his cheeks. “Am I bein’ too harsh on everyone? I want to believe that they’re good people, Sara, I really do. I mean… I know you’re a good person, you’re my best friend. And I really would like to think it’s all been just normal people ending up in this shitty situation. But what if it isn’t?”

Sara mulled over his words, ignoring his conspicuous attempts to make eye contact with her. She was sure there’d be nothing but the plaintive kindness she’d grown to expect from her friend’s eyes, but she couldn’t help but fear the off chance that it wasn’t.

“I’m just…” Joe leaned back in his stool with a sigh, nearly risking toppling over. “Any one of them could be lying, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s true, but…” Sara struggled for words. “It’s just as likely they’re telling the truth, too. I doubt we’re the only two normal people who got dropped in here, whatever the fuck they put us in here for.”

“I know, I know.” Joe sounded so weary. “But we’ve already seen what the floormasters are capable of. I… man, I’ve never seen anything as horrifying as what happened in the pink room. How could you do that to someone who clearly had so many people who loved him and cared about him and looked up to him? How could you trick everyone and then put the blame on us for all of it?”

Joe’s voice cracked; he ducked his head and covered his mouth with his hand. “...How could you do that to the people he left behind?”

A tremor crept through Sara’s limbs as warped memories of Nao’s agonized face flashed across her mind. She wouldn’t wish that sort of grief even on her worst enemy.

“Sara… I want to think the best of these people. I want it so badly, I’d give anything to go back and meet them all in better circumstances. I think we could’ve all been best friends in some other world.”

“Well, not best friends,” Sara murmured.

“My bad,” Joe replied with a heavy laugh. “But, like… Sara, do you think you’re gonna want to put their lives over your own?”

Sara’s gaze migrated from the counter to the floor. It was hardwood of a slightly lighter shade, shining with varnish. She could make out the vaguest markings where her stool had scraped against the floor earlier, but nothing more. “That’s a loaded question, Joe.”

“Man, I know that.”

“I really don’t want to think about things that way. Our clumsiness has already gotten one person dead, but it doesn’t- it doesn’t have to be like that again. If we’re super careful, and if we look out for traps and hidden rules and everything, then we won’t have to worry about anyone else-”

“Would you put one of their lives over mine?”

Any words Sara had been struggling to find died in her throat.

“You saw what happened to Nao and Kanna.” There was no malice in Joe’s voice, just the hint of a regretful apology. “This game isn’t meant to get both of us out alive. And we’re sure as hell not getting out with eight other people.”

Sara didn’t respond.

“Sara, you’re one of my favorite people in the entire world. Man, the amount of times you’ve saved me from a bad grade or let me cry to you? I’ve thought so many times about what I’d do if we ever stopped being friends, and I’ve always got nothin.’”

Sara shook her head, tears beginning to converge in the corner of her eyes. “Don’t do this, Joe, I know where this is going.”

“I don’t wanna live without you,” Joe said, quietly and simply. “I can’t. I’d- I’d die right now on the floor if it meant I could get you out alive.”

“Even if that means I escape alone. Right?”

“...Right.”

Sara pressed her lips together, the tears pooling. “So you don’t regret it, then?”

She expected Joe to gasp, to furrow his brows, to do something, anything. Instead, he shook his head, his golden earrings jingling like bells. “Nope.”

“So you’ve known this whole time, haven’t you?” She said quietly.

“‘Course.”

“And…” she swallowed. “You’re not him.”

For the first time throughout their conversation, she braved eye contact. Joe’s eyes were just as deep brown and kind as she remembered, the eyes she’d looked to for support more times than she could count.

They were exactly as she remembered them.

He held her gaze unwaveringly - he’d always been so much stronger than he gave himself credit for - and, slowly, a sad smile made its way onto his face.

“No, I’m not. Just a bunch of memories of what he was.”

“So I’m dreaming, then?” The tears finally overflowed, trickling down her cheeks and dripping coldly onto the skirt of her uniform.

“...Yeah.”

“God, what a cruel dream for my mind to give me.” She laughed through the tears, although her laughter sounded more like choking. Joe looked so clean and healthy, cheeks rosy and hair glossy. There was still the mole on his chin she remembered, the slight crookedness to his nose bridge from when he’d broken it in 8th grade, the gap between his front teeth.

He was Joe- there weren’t any wrigglers piercing his skin, his uniform wasn’t stained with more blood than she’d known the human body could hold. Despite all his great and noble words, he was no martyr, no grand and tragic sacrifice drained dry by unthinkable circumstances.

He was just Joe.

She let out a sob and threw her arms around his shoulders. As his arms closed around her, she realized feebly that it might be the last chance she ever got to hug her best friend. She hoped it wasn’t.

“How’d you figure me out that quickly?” His bangles were pressing into her back, but she didn’t want to ask him to move.

“The real Joe didn’t have enough time to get all that out,” she giggled softly. “Plus… I think a lot of it was just stuff I wanted to hear more than anything else. I know there’s nothing I can do now, but he’s- he’s dead because of me. And… he died in a cold, miserable facility, watching me cry. I never even managed to tell him he was my best friend too, and that I loved him back. He gave… he gave me so much, and all I’ve done is fail him.”

His arms tightened securely around her. She could feel him beginning to tremble.

“I think I’m losing track of who he is. I don’t know how I want to remember him. He gave his life for me, he died so young, I want to treat him with the respect he deserves. But every time I keep going back to him, I just- I just think of him in math class, or at the kebab place, you know? I don’t think he’d want me to think of him as a hero.”

Sara buried her face in his shoulder. His uniform was bunched up, as it had always been from a combination of forgetting to iron it and rolling up the jacket sleeves as high as he could. “I think I’m letting my grief get in the way of who he is to me. I want his death to have meaning, you know, because what if it didn’t? What if he died for nothing and it’s all my fault, and-” She sniffled. The tears had already begun to stain his uniform, but she didn’t have to ask to know that he wouldn’t mind. “I want my best friend back.”

Joe gently leaned away from her. There was so much kindness in his eyes still, after everything he’d been through. Sara had a sinking feeling in her stomach that he only looked so kind because she wanted him to. She wondered if the Joe who’d died for her would look at her with such unquestioning steadiness.

“We have all the time in the world here. Until you wake up, at least.” He gave her one of those stupid, dorky grins of his, cheeks dimpling. God, she’d missed him. “I’m here as long as you are.”

Sara swallowed through the lump in her throat. “What if I wake up and then I never see you again?”

“You’ll see me again someday,” Joe replied firmly. “But I hope it’s a very, very long time from now. Make sure my death is worth it, okay?”

That was the guilt talking.

Sara hesitated. The silence of the bar had grown feeble, the lights had grown warmer, and Joe was sitting in front of her as happy and healthy as she’d ever been. She couldn’t lie to herself- she never wanted to wake up. But she couldn’t disappoint him, either.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure of it.”

[hangovercurse]

Our Song

At the last show of his tour, Kells invites you on stage for a duet, but it turns into a bit more than that.

Request: “Can you do one where the reader and Colson both are music artist. I know you're doing this with "The Thing We Can't Tell Pete about. But with this one they have been dating for a while and while they are in the middle of the song Colson decides to announce they're dating and gives her a kiss in front of the crowd, and the reader is just in shock. However it ends it up to you. Love ya!!!!!!!!”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: implied smut/ mentions of sex, cursing

A/N: So, I used my own lyrics in here because why not (sue me I guess)

Word Count: 2326

The last two months had been absolute hell on Earth. Yes, you loved your job. Recording your third studio album was exciting but being busy all the time was exhausting. On top of that, your boyfriend being off on tour meant you hadn’t seen him in person in two months, which was driving you even more insane.

It also meant you hadn’t had sex in almost two months.

You’d called each other every night, even if you were both drunk off your asses or faded beyond belief. It had become your routine; get home from the studio, grab something to eat, then hop into the bath and facetime your blond boyfriend.

Tonight, was no exception, but the energy on the call was different. Colson was coming home tomorrow. Granted, he would be going straight to the venue for his concert, but he’d be here.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right princess?” He asked, a joint hanging from his lips.

You smiled, nodding, “I haven’t seen you in two months. If I’m not there, you should assume I’m dead.”

He chuckled, “good.” He hesitated before continuing, “I was thinking you could perform with me. We haven’t performed White Sea in like a year.”

You bit your lip at the thought of performing with him again. He was right, after you’d finished live performance promo for the song, neither of you had performed it together. “Yeah, I’m down.”

The song was the first one you’d written together; it was actually the whole reason you’d met. “You don’t think people will get suspicious though? I mean, people are already catching on. I feel like performing it out of the blue would add fire to the flames.”

He thought about it, the wheels turning in his head. “I think it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret.”

You nodded, “I know, we’ve just never really talked about telling people.” The last two words came out softer than you had intended.

Colson and you had been together for a year and still hadn’t officially told anyone outside of your closest circles. You liked the privacy, and getting the media involved always caused problems. So, you kept it to yourself. People saw you out together, but nothing had been confirmed.

Colson left the conversation there, not having a good answer. You had both agreed a long time ago that if people figured it out or someone slipped up and told you would be okay with it, and you would. You just didn’t think it was a big deal if people knew or not.

He started talking about his day on tour, the crowd he’d played to tonight. You told him about the song you were working on. Eventually he got called away by the boys.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” He smiled at you through your phone.

You smiled, “You better. I-“ You almost slipped up. Almost said those three words so casually. But you’d caught yourself. “I can’t wait.” You covered.

He gave you a small wave before your screen went back, the sound of the line disconnecting ringing through your bathroom. You put your phone on the floor next to the tub, leaning your head back and sighing.

You don’t know why it worried you so much. You knew you loved him, and you were pretty sure he loved you too. There was just something about saying out loud that scared the hell out of you.

 The next day was amazing. As soon as he texted you that he’d gotten to the venue, you were rushing to meet him there. When you stepped into the green room where he was, he ran up to you and grabbed you by your waist. Your arms went around his neck, legs around his as he lifted you up, burying his face into your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled into your skin. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, holding him closely.

“I missed you too.” You whispered. He lifted his head up and pressed a deep kiss to your lips as your feet came down to touch the floor again. His lips were so familiar, it felt like the world had shifted back into place when you felt them on yours.

He pulled away, forehead and nose still pressed against yours. Your hands travelled from his neck to his shoulders, rubbing the fabric of his t-shirt. “I didn’t think I was gonna survive another night without you.” You said with a slight giggle, making him laugh.

“Well now you don’t have to worry about that.” He said, pressing a peck to your lips.

Before you could pull him back to your lips, your moment was interrupted. “We get it, you guys are cute. Whatever. Can we get hugs from our favorite girl?” Irv joked, pulling your attention to the group of guys near the couches in the room.

One of the things you loved most about being with Colson was how accepting his friends were of you. Slim and you had bonded over your love of music production and mixing, Baze had taught you some more complicated bass riffs, and Rook was your designated adventure buddy (after Colson, of course). You felt lucky that your boyfriend’s family had taken you in as one of their own.

You ran over to them, giving each of the guys a hug. When you hugged Ashleigh, she whispered in your ear, “don’t ever leave me alone with these lunatics again.” You both giggled at that, leaving the boys confused.

After messing around backstage for a while and catching up with your friends (mostly from the comfort of Colson’s lap), it was time for the guys to perform. You set up your spot side-stage with Ash, Irv, and Andre, excited to see the set.

Before he went on, Colson came over to you and pulled you in for a very giddy kiss. Pre-show Colson was your favorite Colson, except for maybe post-show Colson, only because he was so excitable. Every time you sat show side, he demanded you give him a good luck kiss. No matter who was watching.

Watching him was magical, in fact watching all the boys was magical. The way their passion showed through the music and the performance was something that not many other artists could perfect. You felt like you’d never match their level of performing.

When Colson brought out his acoustic guitar and two bar stools, you were a bit taken aback. Normally his shows were so high energy that he never wanted to sit down, even during the slower songs. It wasn’t really his style.

“I wanted to bring out a very special guest today to help slow this down a bit.” He said to the crowd as they screamed. “I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, but I figured today would be the perfect time to do it.”

He looked over at you, a smile on his face. It finally registered in his mind that he was talking about your song. Luckily, you’d had ears put in at the beginning of the show, so that wasn’t an issue. One of the venue’s techs handed you a microphone and signaled you to go on stage.

Once you came in view of the audience they erupted into another round of cheers, making you smile. Colson met you halfway and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. He led you over to the chairs, letting you sit down while he adjusted his mic stand. “For those of you who don’t know, not that there should be anyone who doesn’t know who this is, but just in case, this is Y/S/N. We wrote this song a little over a year ago today.”

You smiled as he started to strum the familiar intro, the lights dimming just a little bit.

Drownin’ in empty space.

You started singing.

Don’t even know my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

It’s okay

Rook brought the drum beat in as Colson smiled at you, his verse starting

Yeah

I was drownin’ in this darkness

Feeling like I was so heartless

All these drugs makin things harder

They tried to turn me to a martyr

You loved watching him party on stage, but you loved watching this side of him, too. Completely stripped down and raw. Hearing him rap the words you wrote together made your heart flutter, even if you’d written them so long ago.

I can’t handle shit I’m just a man

I tried to tell ‘em, they don’t understand

Riptide’s pulling me away from land

I couldn’t stand till you reached out your hand

And now I can.

The rest of the music came in, the sounds mixing as you began the chorus.

Drownin’ in empty space

Don’t even my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

The key raised.

Out on the open sea

Feel your eyes watching me

Wanted to fall asleep

Now I believe.

The music kept playing, but Colson’s rap didn’t enter like it was supposed to. Instead, he just looked at you, a fond smile on his face. You tilted your head, questioning him, but he just placed his guitar on the ground and kept looking at you.

“I just want to let everyone here know, that today is my one-year anniversary with this amazing woman right here.” He said into the mic, causing the audience to burst into screams. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening.

He caught your expression and laughed but kept going. “It wasn’t a secret that we’ve been together, but we’ve been quiet about it. But I mean, like, fuck that shit. When you’re in love you should tell everyone, right?”

You smiled at him, your heart picking up speed. “And Y/N I am so fucking in love with you.”

You looked down, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks and the idiotic grin you were sporting. You had never expected this from him. “Like, seriously, this past year has been the best year of my life. Even when we aren’t together you are the one thing that I look forward to the most, every day. You are one of the best things in my life, and I want everyone to know that.”

During his little monologue he had walked over to your chair and pulled you up into his arms. You nuzzled your face into his bare chest, making him laugh. He pulled the microphone away from you both so it wouldn’t pick up your conversation.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you complied. “I love you.”

You had tears in your eyes as you studied his perfect features, “I love you, too.” You whispered. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while I just…”

“I know, princess.” He smiled, leaning down and pressing your lips together in a sweet, passionate kiss. The audience erupted in applause, cheers, and awes. “Are you gonna say anything?” He asked once you’d pulled away, motioning to the audience with a smile on his face. You shook your head, burying it back in his chest and laughing. He spoke into the microphone, “she got all shy now.”

The crowd laughed with him, shouting supportive comments at you both. “But she said she loves me too so that’s all that matters.” He continued, earning even more cheers.

 After the show, Colson came backstage and immediately attached his lips to yours, hands holding you close. You pulled him into one of the unused dressing rooms, mouths never leaving each other. He hoisted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, and leaned your back against the mirror.

Finally, he released your lips from his, making you whine. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about all this, but after last night I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. And you just looked so pretty out there that I-“ You cut him off with a kiss, lips moving together slowly.

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Colson, I loved it. I was hella embarrassed because the first time you told me you loved me was in front of thousands of people, but I loved it. And I love you.”

He smiled, pressing a peck to your lips. “How much do you love me?” He asked, slyly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing something was up. “Depends on your next statement.”

A laugh fell from his mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Because I really hope it’s a lot.”

“What are you doing?” You asked him, giggling.

He lifted the lid off of the box to reveal a key with your first initial painted on one side and a C on the other. “You don’t have to, but if you wanted to maybe think about moving in with me, now you have a key.” He smiled as you took the metal in your hands.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, lips open in shock. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you?” You confirmed.

“Only if you want to. But yes.”

You smiled, looking back down to the key and then up to his face before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your waist. “Of course, I want to, dummy.” You giggled and reconnected your lips.

“We’re supposed to go out and celebrate the last night of tour tonight, you’re gonna come, right?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“You act like I don’t wanna be around you.” You pushed his chest playfully. “But we might be a couple minutes late.” You smirk.

Colson raised an eyebrow, “oh yeah? And why is that?”

Instead of responding you just giggled and pulled him back into a kiss.

[0littlestwolf0]

Poisoned Appletini

Yandere! Eddie Longo

Ship: Yan!Eddie Longo x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, adultered drink, stalking, yandere-ish behavior

Requested by: @tomriddlessecretvampiredemigod

Don’t be out alone at night.

Be vigilant at all times.

And never accept any free drink that wasn’t sealed.

Those were three rules (out of many) to survive life as a woman. Three rules your parents, authorities, and society in general had told you over and over again until it was engraved in your brain.

And yet you forgot to put the words into action.

To be fair, you had had a very stressful couple of weeks beforehand, having to wake up extra early every morning to get ready for an awful day surrounded by people you didn’t like telling you how to do your job.

So, in the midst of all that havoc you found a little routine that made life just a tiny bit more bearable.

Every Monday and every Friday at precisely 9:00pm you’d stop by that club everyone you knew kept talking about, you’d order an Old Fashioned and look closely as it was being made while talking about nothing with that cute bartender whose shift you apparently always seemed to catch.

Those talks usually consisted on nothing of real importance, making fun of people who seemed to be way too drunk, creating interesting stories about strangers the other picked, and what you had considered harmless flirting.

It was anything but harmless.

This Friday had been way too chaotic to put much mind on anything else, you had gone with your usual routine until it seemingly out of nowhere became too much. You couldn’t even glance at your coworkers without feeling the urge to yell at every single one of them.

Your boss was no exception, and when that jerk started yelling at you instead for arriving a minute late after lunch you just couldn’t take it anymore, wouldn’t take it anymore. Honestly, if you tried recalling that moment you’d most likely see something similar to an out of body experience.

The way you almost weren’t in control when your arm threw your water at your boss, and then how your lips moved almost out of your control telling him where he could stick his stupid minute. And then a silent ride to the club in which you were now drinking your usual.

Eddie listened to your every word as you recounted your day, his eyebrows going up and down as your story progressed, every time more and more engrossed in the sound of your voice, his whole body leaning ever so slightly in your direction from the other side of the counter.

As you finished he had drummed his fingers against the polished wood and smiled “You know what this means, right?” He had the widest smile.

His excitement made you laugh

“What?” You asked fully leaning in the counter

He turned around and kept moving around under your curious glance, blocking your view of whatever he was doing, dodging your every question with soft laughter and a couple “you just wait”

And then he placed a green drink in front of you.

It looked and smelt pretty good, you realized. It even had a slice of fruit decorating it, you rose a brow at him.

“It’s a special Appletini, on the house” he explained “A congratulations on starting your new life” he added with a strange smile, one you mistakenly thought nothing of as you began downing the liquid.

It almost tasted like apple, there was something else in there though, something that made everything bitter-y but since you’d never had one before you just figured that was how it was supposed to be.

A couple seconds later you began feeling dizzy, it must’ve been a strong drink, stronger than anything you were used to, you tried to look at Eddie and ask for water, but your head was just too heavy, and so was the rest of your body, it made you stumble out of the stool you had been sitting on.

“You okay?” His question only dimly registered in your brain, but you managed to shake your head regardless.

He wasted on time on getting to your side, his hands taking a hold of both your arms as he directed you outside “I’m taking you home” was all he’d say, and you tried to reply, you really did try to tell him that you’d never told him where you lived, he must’ve been confusing you with someone else.

You can’t remember much more afterwards, only waking up with a pounding head and Eddie offering you water. You tried to scream but your body was too weak to do anything but drink water and stay in bed for the next couple of days, he didn’t even bother tying you up knowing how it would take you a while to take full autonomy of your body.

The second you heard his car taking off you’d try to move some and some more, at first your body had been too heavy, then too weak or clumsy, but sooner than he had expected you were able to move, still putting on a facade of a slow healing in front of him.

And then, one night after he’d left you got up as fast as you could and bolted to the door, which of course was locked, then you looked at a couple of windows until you found one whose lock was so old and worn out even you in your weakened state could break.

You jumped before taking a good measured look outside and began trying to run, but he had been heading back, unfortunately for you he had forgotten his wallet, and he caught you exactly like a deer on the headlights.

Your legs were much too weak to run faster than him, and in no time he had you back in the house that looked even weaker than you.

He wasn’t yelling though, not even raising his voice, but he had you wrapped so tightly in his arms it was hurting you as you tried to squirm away. Something you had noticed about him is that he rarely got mad at you, not being able to talk the last couple of days he had gone on and on about the beautiful life the two of you would share.

Making comments about whether or not he wanted children and deciding it would be up to you, but you only wanted to yell at his face and maybe spit in his direction and then run the other way.

But now he was silent, he’d never been this silent before, he let you loose momentarily as he turned around to lock the door and you tried to hit him square in the chest, I say try because it ended up being more of a slap than anything, but it took his attention back to you regardless, his eyes clouded and his breath going in and out in puffs.

The sight made you shiver and your instincts forced you to run the other way, but he grabbed your arm and twisted it in a very painful angle behind you as he forced you to walk to the bedroom he had had you imprisoned in.

“You are not leaving me” he said only once, twisting it even further with every poisoned word.

You were crying out of an ungodly combination of fear and pain “You’re hurting me!” You cried

He spun you around and forced your back against the wall getting close inside your personal space “You hurt me first” he declared with his whole face going red “pulling out of nowhere that running away shit! What the hell were you thinking! Fuck!” Every word he said made him angrier “After everything I’ve done for you?”

“You kidnapped me!” He slapped you as soon as the words left your mouth, and then he forced you to face him with a steel grip on your chin.

“I saved you!” Was his only reply “And you are never leaving me”

[carolmaximoffs]

in a crowd of strangers and lovers

summary: of course your ex is working the night you get stood up.

pairing: bartender! ex! bucky x reader

warnings: drinking, cursing, smut, a teeny bit of degradation, bartender! bucky, this is entirely self indulgent, use of a condom for the first time in my writing in i think ever oops

a/n: this has been 3/4 of the way done for so long...finally sat down and cranked out the rest of it. short and sweet and maybe not my best but heres nothin.

You swung your legs idly as you glanced once more at your phone. Only the time glared back at you - no missed calls, no explanation texts, not even a Snapchat or a DM. It was 20 minutes past the time you were supposed to meet the man you’d been talking to for the last couple of months, and you sighed. Obviously, he wasn’t coming. You waved a hand to grab a bartender’s attention before closing your eyes and rubbing at your temples in annoyance. An all too familiar voice disrupted your self-pitying thoughts.

“You look like a tequila girl.” The first words Bucky Barnes had ever said to you. Your eyes snapped open, mouth gaping. Of course...how could you have forgotten? This was the very bar, possibly the very stool you’d met Bucky at. Before you could stammer out a reply, he was making himself comfortable against the bar-top and leaning in conspiratorially. “Hot date?”

“Very,” You sniffed, meeting his gaze in spite of your churning gut. In the glow of a neon sign overhead, his blue eyes burned almost violet. Your heart ached when he beamed, those beautiful stupid eyes crinkling at the corners like they always had.

“Well, sweetheart, you’ve been here for a while now. Show up early?” Bucky propped his chin up with his metal hand; his flesh fingers drummed idly as he waited for your reply. He’d always been able to see right through you; you weren’t backing down so easily this time. You’d actually been late, but Bucky didn’t need to know that. It was bad enough he’d clearly spotted you as soon as you walked in...you weren’t really sure what to do with that information. You lifted your chin, shrugging and looking around as if your evasive date might suddenly show himself.

“I’ll take that tequila now, please,” You replied simply. Bucky’s eyes twinkled with mirth before he turned his back to you.

“Margarita or a straight up shot?” He threw over his shoulder. Your answer was a moment too late - you wouldn’t admit it, but you’d gotten a little absorbed in the way his white tee shirt stretched over the broad expanse of his back. “Y/N.”

“Huh? Oh...surprise me.” You fought the urge to bury your face in your hands again as he smiled and turned back around. You chanced looking at your phone as inconspicuously as possible. Still nothing. Moments later, thick fingers slid a tall glass towards you, rim salted, accompanied with two neat slices of lime.

“M’lady,” Bucky drawled, dipping his head dramatically. He looked up at you beneath his lashes, cheeks straining to contain his grin. Your own face burned and your heart pounded as you mumbled your thanks. You took more of a long gulp than a sip. Just your luck, it caught in the back of your throat, and you spluttered a bit. Bucky looked like he’d won the lottery.

“Careful, sugar,” He crooned, passing you a napkin. Idly, you wondered if, next, you'd fall off the stool. “You know I love to see you choke, but only-” 

“Barnes!” 

Natasha was standing near the door to the back, arms crossed and brow arched dangerously. Your old friend offered you a tight smile before returning to glaring at her employee. Bucky winked before he sidled off, Nat’s eyes narrowing. You wished the floor would swallow you up right then.

It didn’t, and you were swirling the dregs of your margarita by the time Bucky got back. For whatever reason, you couldn’t compel yourself to leave. Not just yet. You were rewarded, however, when he realized you’d hung around; Barnes’ eyes lit up. He bit back another smile, resuming his nonchalant stance against the bar. 

“What was that all about?” You blurted, before Bucky could say anything about the near-empty glass in front of you. His smirk didn’t waver.

“Just Nat lookin’ out for you, s’all. She got off a few minutes ago, wanted to make sure I didn’t give you too much trouble.” His simper stretched into a blinding flash of teeth. “I’m not givin’ you trouble, am I, babydoll?”

You shake your head dutifully, and you think Bucky’s face might split if he grins any wider. His smile drops into something a little more seductive as he tilts impossibly closer. “Looks like your boy toy’s a no show...Sam can cover if you need a little cheering up.” 

Body and brain exploded into disagreement; lust bubbled like lava in the pit of your stomach at his request, but you knew better. You had to know better by now - you were the one who’d gotten too involved in the first place. You floundered, managing to blubber a painful combination of "we shouldn’t” or “I don't think that's the best idea”. Bucky’s face fell, only just, but he was quick to hide it as he untied a thick, worn flannel from his waist. 

“Wilson - headed for a smoke!” He shouted across the bar to where Sam was seemingly tangled up trying to serve a very amorous bachelorette party. His eyes were steely as he looked at you as if trying to pick you apart. “Think on it, yeah? No big deal, sugar. Back in five.” 

You nodded, tracing your finger through the circle of condensation from your drink. You snuck a glance at his retreating form, however, and already wanted to kick yourself. His ass in those jeans...he’d bulked up, clearly, even in the short time since you’d stop seeing each other. And there was no way in hell he thought you wouldn’t notice. The angel on your shoulder was practically throwing a tantrum as you quickly shot a text to your closest confidante.

call me in the am. about to do a bad thing

Wanda texted back almost instantly, but Bucky reentered the bar simultaneously. You clicked off your incessantly active cell phone and put on an expression you hoped wasn’t as much of a grimace as you thought. Bucky raised a single, knowing brow.

“What’s that face for?” He murmured innocuously. You lift a single shoulder in response, working extra to keep your face neutral.

“Changed your mind?” You shrugged again, and when he was sure nobody was looking, he jerked his head towards the back of the bar. “C’mon then, pretty baby.” 

“This is stupid,” You mumbled under your breath. You don’t realize how close he is behind you, jumping a little as the door swings shut behind you. 

“What’s stupid is waiting an hour for some douche when you’ve got me standing right in front of you,” Bucky whispered hotly, already spinning the two of you so your back hit the wall by the doorframe. A case of the imported vodka Nat loved dug into your calves. 

“We split up, Bucky,” You moaned as he licked at the shell of your ear. Honestly, you were half expecting something like “i didn’t know we were together”. Instead, he pulled back for a second to give you sad eyes and a slight twist of the corner of his mouth. Regret? 

Before you could truly ponder it, he was ducking back towards you, lips pressing into yours with a fire fueled by all things left unsaid. He kissed his way down your neck, and you heard his voice from months ago: ‘it’s just sex, sweetheart. just enjoy it’. You were drawn back to the present as he tugged at your lip with sharp teeth, and you recalled his gruff morning voice - ‘I better get going’. Memory pierced your hazy brain even as he slid a hand down to cup your sex. You arched into him, and he looked positively feral even in his delight. You pushed the past away as hard as you could and let yourself melt into his touch. 

As your head lilted backward to likely smack the wall, Bucky tangled a hand into your hair. He tipped your face back up to kiss it incessantly - several to your cheeks, a peck on your nose, a handful of smooches dotted to your forehead. When he finally reached your mouth again you were laughing, breathy and floaty, and he laughed too. He chuckled softly with you even as he slips his hands into your jeans, past the waistband of your cute-but-not-presumptuous panties. He was still chuckling a little, but it was more smug than amused when his fingers parted your folds and you inhaled sharply.

“Yeah,” He murmured, so low you almost missed it. “There you go, that’s my girl.”

You pretended the burst of heat through your gut is from his palm bumping against your clit. You were halfway through a moan when he withdrew his hand, instead placing both dark metal and pale skin on steadfastly on your hips. Swiftly, he placed you on top of those nagging crates you’d been pressed against - despite the marks on your thighs you’d nearly forgotten about them.

“Bucky, what-” You tried, but he cut you off with a swift press of lips to yours, tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. If you sighed into the kiss, well, you’d call it heat of the moment. The familiar crinkling of foil set your anticipation and adrenaline spiking impossibly higher. Bucky pulled away to line himself up as you caught your breath, which suddenly seemed impossible. He rubbed a comforting thumb over your hip, leaning in again to nip playfully at your jaw.

“You ready, angel?” He murmured; all it took was your assenting nod before he slid home, your body greedily accepting him as if the two of you had never stopped. “Fuuuck...missed you. Missed this.”

Normally, such a suggestion would’ve irritated you - but you couldn’t deny the feelings you had had for him once upon a time, despite the casual nature of your relationship. You knew it was mutual; you knew exactly what he missed. It wasn’t just about the sex - even in the dingy storeroom of the bar, Bucky thrusting as deep as possible with one hand stabilizing the crates and the other on the small of your back, panting into each other’s mouths, it was about the connection. Being this close with another person, especially someone you dared to say you’d been good friends with, had much in common with - the interconnection of body and soul was something else. Or maybe that was your orgasm talking.

It snuck up on you. Your toes curled in your shoes, lip drew between your teeth. “Please.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Bucky rasped, face buried in your shoulder. The hand on your back snaked between the two of you to rub furiously at your clit - you threw your arms around his neck for balance as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. “Go ahead, let go. Come for me, let me make you feel good, angel.”

That did it. Your hands found purchase in his hair as your back arched; in your desperation to be quiet, you bit your lip so hard the taste of iron crept into your mouth. Bucky never slowed, chasing his own high as well as basking with you in yours. He kissed you, a little sudden, groaning deeply into your mouth as he came.

For a moment, the pair of you were silent, the only sound your heavy breaths and the rustling of clothing. Composing yourself, you made for the door - a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“This was a fluke, I know-” You started. The desperate look in Bucky’s eyes cut you off.

“I don’t...let me try again.” He mumbled, words jumbling together with nerves. He cleared his throat - you’d never seen Bucky Barnes nervous, of all things, and humility wasn’t a bad look for him. “You deserved - deserve better, sweetheart. I want to try again. I want to...I want to do it right.”

“Buck...” Your face softened, but he tensed, fearing rejection. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek softly. “I’d love to try again.”

That nagging voice in the back of your mind was on a roll - you’ll just get hurt again, it warned. He’s not good for you.

But when Bucky’s entire face lit up and he kissed you enthusiastically, making you laugh in equal parts shock and joy, that little voice was silent.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

A Touch | Reggie Peters

Request: Hi!! I saw you were looking for Reggie requests so I was wondering if I could request one where the reader is related to Luke and has a major crush on Reggie and Reggie likes her too but doesn’t show it and that night she does with them and when they get to 2020 and Reggie flirts with those girls she gets jealous and goes off and meets another ghost and starts hanging out with him and Reggie gets really jealous and admits his feelings for her

A/N: Tweaked it a little bit cuz otherwise this would’ve been even longer! Hope you like it! :) 

Pairing: Reggie Peters x Patterson!Reader 

Warnings: minor swear words, angst 

Songs used: Touch - Little Mix | Bright - Julie and The Phantoms

Words: 5,672

1995

“Sunset Curve, are we ready to rock?!” you run into the garage, holding up rock signs whilst yelling. This is the place you’ve spent every summer with the four boys you call your best friends. Every first of July, your parents would drop you off at your Auntie Emily and Uncle Mitch’s house while they were off doing work-stuff, or so they said. But you didn’t mind, really because those boys made your summers so amazing. Especially Reggie. 

You’d met the boys years ago when they first started the band and your parents had dropped you off at the Pattersons over the summer. Alex quickly became your go-to for any problem, and you were the first person he ever told about his sexuality. Bobby turned out to be the person to prank the other boys with. And Reggie… Reggie is just Reggie. Amazingly goofy, really smart -- though people would say otherwise -- and the sweetest, kindest gentleman to ever grace this planet. He’s the sole reason you really came back this year. Your parents had given you the option to stay home alone this year since you’d become seventeen, but you insisted on going back to Los Feliz anyway. You didn’t want to spend an entire summer in your house with no friends to hang out with since they all went on holiday at the same time. No, you wanted to stay with the Pattersons and have a Reggie-filled summer. He didn’t know you had a crush on him, and neither did Luke. It’s better if they don’t know. The group dynamic would’ve been disturbed and that’s about the last thing you wanted. Only Alex knew, and that was enough. At least now you could blab about how cute Reggie was that day or about that funny thing he said to you. Alex had told you to tell him, but you refused to. That would be the worst thing you could do. 

Besides, Reggie doesn’t even like you like that. And he has other things on his mind right now, like playing the Orpheum tonight. It’s been a long, winding road with lots of ups and downs, and trials and errors, but they finally did it. Sunset Curve is having a showcase tonight at the Orpheum. THE ORPHEUM. To say you’re proud would be an understatement. 

“Someone’s excited,” says Alex with a smile as he comes out from behind the drum kit. They’d just finished rehearsing their set one final time before their soundcheck. 

“Yes! My favorite band is playing at the Orpheum, you guys!” you’re jumping up and down all the way to the blonde boy to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. “I’m so excited for you guys!” you sigh before letting go and turning to the other guys. Two out of three boys in front of you smile at you endeared, whilst the third one scowls at you. “What’s gotten your panties in a twist, Patterson?” you ask your cousin. “Aren’t you excited you’re playing the Orpheum? This has been a dream of you since I can’t even remember when!” he chuckles sarcastically while zipping up his guitar case. 

“I would be more excited if my little cousin would be a little more covered up,” he grumbles. The boys look at your outfit, as do you. You’re wearing light blue jeans with a salmon pink off-the-shoulder cropped top. You thought it looked cool, but now that your cousin seemingly doesn’t love it, you begin to have your doubts. 

“Really, Luke?” Alex chimes in, shaking his head, “I think she looks cute.” 

“Yeah, but you’re gay, you’re not gonna be lustin’ after her,” Luke mutters. You chuckle at his lame excuse. Of course he would say that. You cross your arms at him, and purse your lips. 

“No boy is ever gonna be lustin’ after me, Patterson, because you scare them all away,” you snarl at him with a raised eyebrow. This shuts him up right away. Or at least for a moment. 

“Good. You’re too young for a boyfriend anyway,” he says instead. 

“I’m one month younger than you, Patterson!” you scoff. For a second you think he’s being serious, but then that teasing smirk tugs at his lips, reminding you that he’s only playing. 

“Just looking out for ya, cous,” he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you out the garage with his guitar case in his other hand. “I need all them boys to know that if they ever hurt you, I’ll kill them.” Little do you know that Reggie’s behind the two of you, carrying his bass out the garage, and hears your entire conversation. He’s once reminded of why he can never act on his feelings. Luke would kill him if he even tried. 

At the Orpheum, you help the boys set up their instruments and then sneak backstage for a while as the boys are talking to the showrunner at the venue. You walk through the labyrinth of corridors that give out on the dressing rooms left and right. But for some reason, the room at the end of the hallway screams at you. You don’t know why you’re pulled towards this particular room, but you find yourself opening the door cautiously. A creek echoes through the empty corridor, making you cringe a little. You hastily slip through the door and turn the lights on. The artificial blaze blinds you for just a moment. When your eyes have finally adjusted to it, you let them wander around. Over the seating area with the sofas and the couch, and then finally landing on the piano against the far left wall. As a smile tugs at your lips, you walk over and let your fingertips grace over the keys before pressing one and letting a note ring out through the room. The single note reminds you of the summer you’d spend teaching Reggie how to play. He’d constantly mess up and giggle, and then he’d watch you for a while as you showed it again, only for him to mess up again because he was looking at your face instead of your hands. And every now and again, your hands would brush over the keys, and you’d feel all giddy and warm inside. Especially when he gave you that look. That one look only Reggie can give you. You’ve tried to explain it to Alex, but in vain. There was no way to explain the way Reggie looked at you that summer. That was two years ago. That unexplainable look of his faded away, as did the brushing of the hands. He never asked to play piano with you ever again, which made you wonder what you had done to chase him away like that. You cried to Alex about it or stayed awake for hours wondering what happened. 

Though there were no touches and no glances left this summer, you still remember the feeling it gave you. You remember it enough for you to get dizzy just thinking about it. With that dizzy feeling welling up inside of you, you sit down on the stool and make up a melody on the piano. Satisfied with how it sounds, you play it again and start making up words as you go. Something you and Luke did all the time whenever the other boys were busy in the summer. 

“Just one touch, just one touch Just a touch of your love is enough To knock me off of my feet all week Just a touch of your love, oh Just a touch of your love, oh Just a touch of your love is enough To take control of my whole body Just a touch of your love, oh Just a touch of your love, oh”

“Ah, here you are!” The voice coming from behind you makes you jump, and you let out a squeal as you turn around hastily. Reggie’s standing in the doorway, an amused smile on his face. You clutch your heart as though it’s going to pop out any moment. 

“Fucking hell, Reg. You gave me a heart attack!” He chuckles before walking up to you and joining you on the stool at the piano. Your heart skips a few beats while you’re trying to calm it down from getting startled so badly, which does not make it any easier. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles and nudges your shoulder with his. “What were you singing? Sounded good.” A blush creeps up your cheeks, heating you up from the inside out. 

“Just something that came up,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. 

“It sounded great,” he compliments once more. You look up at him for a moment, finding him looking down at the piano. There is something so calming and peaceful about him, but you could never say what it was. Maybe it's the vibe he gives off or the beautiful green orbs that could stare right into your soul. “Let’s see what I remember from your piano lessons,” he then mumbles before touching a couple of keys, letting a shrill sound come out. 

You scrunch up your nose as he looks over at you with a nervous smile on his face. “Guess you should start teaching me again.” The sound of his laughter reminds you why you loved hanging out with him. Not because he’s the most beautiful guy you’d ever seen, but because he makes you laugh. There’s never been a day he didn’t make you laugh your ass off. 

“Maybe you should just give up on the piano,” you say teasingly, which makes Reggie’s mouth drop open in fake shock. “Stick to the bass, Rockstar,” you pat his shoulder before getting up and making your way to the door. You turn your head to see if he’s following you, only to find him charging towards you at full speed. Your reflexes aren’t quite on point. Before you can run away from him, he already has a tight grip on you and throws you over his shoulder. You shriek at the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through you before you burst into laughter, flailing your limbs about to try and get him to put you down again. 

“Patterson, your cousin is being mean to me. Permission to throw her out?” You stop moving at his words. Of course, you’ll always be Luke’s cousin to Reggie and nothing else. Instead, you place your head in your hand, your elbow resting against Reggie’s back while the other hangs down. A big sigh leaves your body, and when Reggie feels this, he puts you back on your feet. He gives you a worried look first but after you offer him a convincing enough smile, the worry makes room for his happy-go-lucky personality again. “Don’t test me next time, Patterson,” he whispers before turning and heading to the stage where the other boys are. Alex gives you a knowing look, to which you just roll your eyes and go to the back of the venue where a girl is wiping down tables. 

“We’re ready for soundcheck, Gil,” Bobby tells the sound guy. He gives the band a thumbs up and gets to working. You sit back on the bench, watching as the boys play a couple of songs from their set for tonight’s showcase. They sound wicked. But they always sound wicked to you. These boys are crazy talented and tonight’s going to change everything. For all five of you. They’re going to land an amazing manager that’ll help them climb the charts and get the best tours around the entire world, and you’ll still be Luke’s cousin, left at either your parents house or your Uncle and Auntie’s. Thinking of Emily and Mitch reminds you that you need to tell Luke to come back home soon. His mother is pretty much going crazy and it’s driving you crazy not being able to tell her where her missing son is. You keep telling her he’s okay, that he just needs some time. He’ll come back. You’ve been promising her for months now and he still hasn’t returned. You’ll force him tonight, after the show. 

“That was the tightest we've ever played! Too bad we wasted all that energy on soundcheck,” you hear Bobby say as you approach the stage once they’ve finished. 

“Alex, you were smokin’!” Reggie compliments the drummer as he steps down from his stage.

“Eh, I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire!” The blondie deflects humbly. 

“Can you just own your awesomeness for once, Al?” you shout at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. All four boys look at you for a second before Reggie, Bobby and Luke turn back to Alex.  “All right! I was killing it!” His answer makes you very happy.  “To fuel up before the show I was thinking…” Luke starts, and you know exactly what he’s going to suggest.  “Street dogs,” the two of you say in unison. “We’re thinking the exact same thing, cous,” you say with a smirk as Bobby hops off the stage, landing beside you. You turn your head, following him with your eyes as he moves to the table you were sitting at earlier. The one that girl was wiping down.   “Hey, Bobby, where you goin’?” Luke asks, jumping down too, followed by the two other boys. You make your way to the table with them.   “I’m good,” Bobby says over his shoulder in response, then turns to the pretty girl. “Vegetarian, could never hurt an animal.” You roll your eyes at the obviousness of his flirting. The dude isn’t even that strict a vegetarian. You’re pretty sure he had a hamburger for lunch earlier today.  “You guys are really good,” the girl compliments, her accent thickly enlaced in her words. “Thank you,” Luke retorts with that flirty smile on his face. Another earned eye roll.  “I see a lot of bands, been in a couple myself. I was really feelin’ it.” Luke pats Bobby’s back.   “Ah, that’s what we do this for,” he says, then pushes Bobby back with his shoulder. “I’m Luke, by the way.”   “Hi, I’m Reggie,” the bassist says, pointing at himself.  “Alex,” he raises his hand while a smile tugs at his lips. Bobby then nudges Luke back, forcing his way in front of him. Even though they’re the best of friends, you have noticed Bobby getting jealous of Luke on more occasions than one. Mainly when it’s about the ladies.  “Bobby,” he says in a deep voice. The girl then looks over at you as you’re standing between Reggie and Alex, leaning on each of their shoulders, but haven’t introduced yourself yet, thinking it was a band introduction.  “Oh! I thought we were only doing the band,” you say, making the boys and the girl chuckle. “I’m Y/N. Luke’s cousin and band therapist.” The boys give you a questioning look. “Self-proclaimed,” you quickly add.  “Nice meeting you guys. I’m Rose,” the girl introduces herself then.  “Oh!” Reggie then starts and hands over the CD he’s holding. “Here’s our demo.” He hands her a shirt next. “And a T-shirt, size beautiful.” You remove your arm from his shoulder whilst biting the inside of your cheek, trying to withhold yourself from reacting badly to his obvious attempts at flirting. Alex scoffs and shakes his head in disappointment. The girl holds the shirt in front of her for a moment before flinging it over her shoulder with a smile.   “Thanks! I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one,” she jokes, which makes you chuckle slightly. Mostly at the fact why these boys -- except Alex -- are so enthralled by this girl. Not only is she really gorgeous, she’s funny too.  “Oh! Good call!” Alex starts, “Whenever they get wet, they kinda fall apart in your hands.”  “Don’t you guys have to go get hotdogs?” Bobby asks, clearly wanting to get rid of all of you, so he can flirt with Rose without being disturbed or embarrassed by his friends.  “Yeah,” Luke pushes Bobby away as he leans forward to Rose.  “He totally had a hamburger for lunch,” you say in unison with your cousin, once again. Rose laughs lightly, but you’re not sure whether it’s at the two of you exposing your friend or at the fact you said it at the same time. Might be both too.  The four of you make your way out of the Orpheum and onto Sunset Boulevard, chatting about that night whilst making your way to the hot dog vendor you’ve been to a couple of times. You try your hardest to ignore Reggie flirting with some fans at the door and focus on the  night ahead. The  night that’s going to change everything.  And it does, but not in the way any of you had expected. That night, the four of you die from eating tainted hot dogs. At first, it just tasted a little off, then you began to feel a little queasy until the lights went out completely. The next thing you know is a dark room and hearing Alex’s soft sobs echo through the darkness. So… That was it for the four of you… 

 2020

Or that’s what you thought. After a while of being in that dark room and you holding Alex as he cried, you suddenly feel something pulling at you. It’s this weird force that keeps pulling at your skin, which makes all four of you scream until you finally land on a hard floor with a loud thud. Groaning and coughing from the impact of the fall, you get up, looking around at the very familiar surrounding you find yourself in. “Woah! How did we get back here?” Luke asks, realizing the exact same thing. You’re back in the garage, in the exact same spot you were this morning. All of a sudden, a loud, ear-piercing scream startles all four of you, sending you into a huddle of screams too. You just about catch a flash of yellow running out, the screaming fading away as the color did too. Long story short, apparently this girl Julie played the boys’ demo and pulled them back into the ‘real world’ but as ghosts. You’re a little weirded out about the whole ghost thing, and you don’t really know what to think of it. At least you still have the boys. “Hey! Let’s go check on Julie!” Luke suggests one day. He had suggested Julie to just perform a song for her teacher to earn her spot back in the music program with a song the four of you had written together back in the day. You’re stood at the sidelines with the three boys next to you, looking at the girl on the stage as she plays the keyboard, playing the notes you’d come up with way back when. “Sometimes I think I'm falling down I wanna cry, I'm calling out For one more try to feel alive And when I feel lost and alone I know that I can make it home Fight through the dark and find the spark” You and Luke both mouth the words along, shooting Julie encouraging glances as she continues. “Life is a risk, but I will take it Close my eyes and jump Together, I think that we can make it C'mon let's run” Suddenly, the boys poof away from you and onto the stage, instruments at the ready, to support Julie. You’re a little confused at first, but then a smile tugs at your lips as they, once again, start rocking out.  “And rise through the night, you and I We will fight to shine together, bright forever And rise through the night, you and I We will fight to shine together, bright forever” The kids from Julie’s school have now all gathered at the front of the stage, confused and excited noises erupting from the mass of people. The boys seem equally as confused as you are. Those kids can see them. You decide to go around the crowd to get to the front of the stage. You catch Luke and Julie conversing, both of them looking out on the crowd with both confusion and exhilaration.  “What’s happening, Reg?!” you shout at him, but he just gives you a confused shrug whilst Luke sings the next verse.  “In times that I doubted myself I felt like I needed somе help Stuck in my head with nothing left I feel somеthing around me now So unclear, lifting me out I found the ground I'm marching on” You glance at the group of students, the couple of jocks closest to you are headbanging to the music, clearly enjoying themselves. All but one. He’s looking at you with a flirty smile on his face. Your eyes widen at this. He can see you too? Goldilocks -- his hair looks nearly gold -- nods at you curtly in a “what’s up?” kind of way, which sends a blush right to your cheeks.  Reggie skips to the other side of the stage, not noticing anything of the interaction between you and the very alive and very attractive boy.  “Life is a risk, but we will take it Close my eyes and jump Together, I think that we can make it C'mon let's run” “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here?” the boy asks as he walks up to you.  “I uhm… I’m with the band,” you reply pointing up at the boys on stage. Reggie skips all the way back to his microphone, your eyes locking as he shoots you a smile.  “They’re really good! Where are you guys from?” You stutter and stumble, unsure of what to tell this boy. Your eyes dart from this boy to Reggie and back.  “I’m not allowed to tell you,” you finally manage to come up with. “Management rules.”  “Okay, can I at least get your name then?”  “Y/N. Y/N Patterson,” you reply. There’s no use in lying about that part. Though Julie told you about Google and this boy might be able to look you up on ‘the Google’ and find out you died… But why would he do that?  “That’s a pretty name,” he says flirtily and licks his lips. For a split second, you look up at Reggie to find him already looking at the scene unfolding before his eyes. “I’m Chad. Chad Avery.”  “Nice to meet you, Chad,” you reply very politely, a smile tugging at your lips.  “In times that I doubted myself I felt like I needed some help Stuck in my head with nothing left And when I feel lost and alone I know that I can make it home Fight through the dark and find the spark” Your eyes widen when you catch Julie walking through your cousin. How in the holy hell is she going to explain that to the school? You quickly look up at Chad, who’s too busy with his buddies to be able to ask you what that’s all about, so you take that opportunity to poof away from him, and get your ass to the very back of the gym.  At the end of the song, the boys vanish from the stage, which earns a loud uproar of confusion from the students and faculty of Los Feliz High witnessing this. You find them at the side of the stage again, and decide to poof next to Alex.  “That’s crazy! They could see us when we were performing but not when the music stopped!” Luke exclaims excitedly while Reggie shoots you an annoyed glance, but it disappears quickly as a thought pops into his head.  “Oh! Maybe we should check!” he runs up the small flight of stairs and starts gyrating his hips. No reaction from the crowd whatsoever. “Yeah, I don’t…” he runs down again, “I don’t think they can see us.” You chuckle at his antics. That’s the Reggie you’ve fallen in love with.  “I wish I couldn’t see you,” mumbles Alex under his breath, which makes you laugh even louder. Reggie glares at you, raising his eyebrows before turning around and walking over to the girl in the purple wig. Even though she can’t see him, he still attempts to flirt with her. The entire interaction makes you feel queasy and not at all at ease.  “Ugh, please, kill me,” you mumble, earning a raised eyebrow from Alex. “Oh, you know what I mean,” you snap, annoyed at Alex for even trying to minimize how terrible you feel about the scene unfolding in front of you. But even more annoyed at Reggie for flirting with other girls even though you’re not a couple, nor will you ever be. He’s allowed to flirt, it just hurts.  “Y/N,” Alex is going to try and reason with you, but you simply shake your head at him before poofing out of the school and back to the garage.  The silence wraps around you like a comforting blanket, and that’s when the tears start streaming down your cheeks. You know you shouldn’t feel like this. Reggie can do whatever he pleases. You don’t own him. But it still hurts. It’s been more than twenty-five years of having a massive crush on him. That didn’t wash away with death. That burning, aching feeling you get whenever you see him is still there. And you doubt it’s ever going to go away. It’s there for eternity.  “Thought I’d find you here,” Reggie’s voice startles you once again. It’s almost like a déjà-vû. You’re sat at the grand piano, delicately caressing the keys, but not finding the strength to write a song. No words could ever describe how you feel right now.  “Fuck, Reggie…” you mumble, clutching your heart. In your mind, you’re scoffing at how familiar all of this feels, and you think Reggie realizes it too. He walks up to you and takes a seat next to you. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you’re trying your hardest not to show how nervous you feel.  “Why’d you leave so suddenly?” he asks, twisting the hem of his flannel around his finger.  “Just--needed some air…” you lie. You know you should tell him the truth. You’re literally going to spend an eternity with him as ghosts, might as well just come clean about everything.  “Alex told me something different…” You scoff at his words. Of course Alex had to blab. “He didn’t tell me what it was, but he did say you were annoyed at me?” He pronounces his words carefully as if trying not to overstep. “What did I do wrong, Y/N? Tell me, so I can start apologizing because I’ve tried to wrack my brain to try and find a reason for you to be mad at me, but I just can’t…” he chuckles and shakes his head, “I can think of a few, but you’d never be annoyed about those.” You can’t help but laugh at that too. As the weight of the looming truth lands on your shoulders, you exhale slowly. There’s no way around this anymore.  “I just--I couldn’t handle you flirting with that girl… I’ve watched you flirt with girls for years, biting my tongue not to say anything, but today was just… Too much…” you admit with your voice barely above a whisper. Reggie huffs beside you.  “You’re kidding, right?” You look up at his furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes. “You can flirt with whoever you want but I can’t?!” 

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. He gets up from the stool and walks around the piano, halting on the other end. “I saw you flirt with that jock guy at Julie’s school and plenty other times when we were alive, Y/N! You think that didn’t hurt me?!” Frustration wells up inside you as you shoot up from your seat, leaning your hands on the keys, a distorted note echoing through the studio.  

“I barely flirted with anyone when we were alive because you guys chased every fucking boy away, Reggie! You can’t blame me for flirting with one boy after being dead for twenty-five years!” He scoffs, now leaning forward on the piano too. 

“Ever thought there might be a reason for us chasing those boys away, Y/N? Luke had his own and didn't know about mine but Bobby and Alex did! I told them to make sure no boy could ever touch you until I plucked up the courage to ask you out!” You’re stunned at his words for a split second, but then go back to the screaming match you were holding. There’s no time to properly realize he’s confessing his mutual feelings for you.  “Maybe you should’ve just, I don’t know, Reggie, just a thought, asked me!” you yell at him, seething through your teeth. You’d much rather crawl across this piano right  now and kiss him, but you’re frozen to the floor.  “You try and ask Luke Patterson’s cousin out, Y/N! That man is impossible to get through! He’d never agree to me dating his little cousin!” Your tongue glides across your teeth as you mull over the next words in your mind. Back in 1995, you would’ve never dared to speak these words out loud, but so far in 2020, you’ve learned it’s okay for a woman to come up for herself.  “Ever think about the fact that I am my own person, Reggie? That I make my own decisions about my life, my body, my heart? I decide who I love and who I date, not Luke. ME!” Your voice raises and your confidence gets a sudden boost after finally saying those words that have been written down in diaries multiple times, but never been said out loud.  “Luke would’ve killed me if I ever told him I was in love with you, Y/N!” His voice matches yours now, which is equally as terrifying as it is extremely hot. You’ve never seen Reggie like this, he’d always been the guy that shrunk whenever someone would yell at him. He’s the one that would mutter an apology rather than come up for himself.  “Well, you’re dead now, Reginald, what are you still waiting for?!” The words have only left your mouth about a second ago, but Reggie’s already charging up to you. He grabs your face and presses his lips forcefully to yours. You kiss back immediately, returning the passion and hunger he’s exhorting. This is what you’ve been waiting for, for years. You’ve dreamt about kissing him for so long, and now that it’s finally happening, you realize it’s even better than what you ever dreamt it would be like.  “I can’t believe I waited this long,” he pants when you take a break from the intensity.  “Yeah, me neither,” a very familiar voice chimes through the garage. The two of you look up to find Alex and Luke at the door, smirks on both their faces. “I had a bet going with Bobby how long it would take for the two of you to finally confess your love for each other. Guess neither of us won…” he explains nonchalantly while walking over to his guitar to grab it.  “Wa-- Wait, you knew?” Reggie asks, his eyes darting over to you and then Alex.  “Yeah, man. It was pretty obvious,” Luke replies, chuckling, whilst strapping his guitar around. “I mean, I heard you crying in your room about how much you loved him and how much it killed you not to be able to tell him,” he points to you, and a scarlet red colors your face immediately.  “You were listening in on our phone calls?!” Alex asks, knowing the exact conversation they had that night. They talked about boys constantly, especially that one summer when Alex found himself falling for the lead singer of his band and best friend. They dated briefly, but figured out they were better off as friends, for the sake of the band.  “Our walls were pretty thin, man,” Luke shoots him a teasing grin, “And you, Reggie,” he points at the boy next to you. “I caught you staring at my cousin all the time, and I just knew you didn’t shield her from flirting boys to protect my little cousin, you shielded them because you were jealous. It was so obvious, you guys! You’re not going to tell me this is the first time you realize the other’s in love with you too, right?!” Your cousin could get excited and passionate about a lot of things, but your love life was never one of them.  “I was scared you’d kill me before I could even utter a word about my feelings for her,” Reggie mumbles, looking down at his shoes. “So, if anything, this is your fault, Patterson!”  “Yeah, cous! All of this is your fault!” you agree, chuckling slightly at the widening of his eyes. “But you’re cool with this, right?” you ask, “I mean, he is your best friend, Luke…” His smile widens, the flicker in his eyes reappearing.  “Of course I am, Y/N. I just want you both to be happy,” he replies with a shrug. “Now, let’s get rehearsing!” He plugs his guitar into the amp while Alex goes behind his drums. Reggie turns to you again, glancing down at you with that look of his he always used on you two summers ago.  “Will you stay until after rehearsals? I wanna take you somewhere after.” You simply nod your head before leaning up and pecking his lips sweetly. He turns around to join the boys, grabbing his bass from its stand. Your teeth dig down into your bottom lip as a smile etches its way to your lips. Even though it’s taken you this many years, it finally happened, and you couldn’t be happier about it. You could finally kiss him and hold his hand and touch him. That electric touch you longed for, for so many years. His touch. 

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​ @wiselight​

[all1e23]

Bad Habit [Pt.1]

Pairings: Biker!Steve x Reader

Series warnings:  Drug use. Violence. Smut so 18+ please and thank  – No smut this chapter. Sorry to disappoint

A/N:   Part 1! 800 years later. I’m doing my best to get my wips finished by the end of the year so fingers crossed I actually do so. Un-beta’d. So, uh, yeah. Be prepared for that. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

Two weeks it’s been since his mystery girl came into his life, and Steve hadn’t seen or heard from her since she bolted out of the clubhouse’s front door before the sun had cleared the trees. At the time, Steve was disappointed. He had plans. There was a burning need for waffles and bacon and syrup covered kisses, the exchange of numbers, or the very least names and a plan for next time. All those wants quickly evaporated along with the dust those tires kicked up during the hasty getaway. In hindsight, it was probably for the best that morning played out as it did. If Bucky had been there to witness a girl running from his room at first light, he would never hear the end of it. Before the day was out, Bucky would have the whole clubhouse believing he ran another girl off. Thankfully, the only person to catch the escape was Sam, and he was doing everything he could to convince Steve to forget about it. Sam told him nothing good came from chasing a girl that didn’t want to be chased, but Steve has this feeling in his gut, this time wasn’t like before. 

Whoever you were, you were different. 

Maybe you had him under some sorta spell, and that was why he couldn't forget you. It would explain a lot. You captivated him from the moment you stepped into the bar, and he still saw stars long after you ran out the front door and out of his life. He never really stood a chance if he was honest with himself; Steve knew he was in trouble from the first glance. Two things were apparent right off the bat, you were going to be a handful, and it would be hard, if not impossible, to earn your love. Still, Steve chased after you like a novice sailor following a siren’s melody. He had no problem admitting he was willing to follow you out to the middle of the ocean only to find himself unable to swim in the dark waters you lived in.

In the past, Steve had a bad habit of falling too fast, loving quick and fierce. You would be his last. He just had a feeling things would go his way this time--if he could find you. 

As much as he wanted to see you again, he didn’t have any idea how to make that happen. He didn’t even know your name and had no idea where to start looking for you. Hell, he didn’t even know if you lived in Brooklyn. For all, he knew this could have been a stop on your way home where you already had someone waiting on you. All he had was the necklace you gave him, and that was a dead-end. It was just a one-night stand. He should toss the chain in a drawer and put that night behind him. Most men like him would. They would move on to the next girl and forget you existed. Steve, though, he’s stubborn (so says Bucky), and it’s a good thing he is because it’s always worked in his favor. 

Steve ran his thumb over the gold pendant resting against his chest and grinned as he watched you move around behind the bar. 

The one place he would have never thought to look. 

"Well, I'll be damned,” Steve whispered to himself, still watching as you talked and laughed with customers. 

Natasha mentioned she hired a new girl he hadn’t met yet a few nights ago, but without knowing his siren’s name, there was no way he could have connected the two. He had no idea that this Y/n was his Y/n. Now that he found you, he only had to get past the high walls you built up around your heart.

Steve parted the worn red leather stools to make room for him to lean against the polished wood, drumming his fingers impatiently along the bar top waiting for you to finish up with the man you were serving at the far end and finally notice him. You gave the stranger in dark brown leather a high squeaky laugh in return for the lousy pick-up line he threw at you. It wasn’t the same laugh, Steve knew. The laughter he memorized was light and airy, your whole body shook when it took hold of you, and it made your eyes sparkle in a way that could steal his breath like nothing else. Steve found that out early in the night when his beard tickled your inner thigh. The memory made him grin. He wanted to hate how fake you sounded right then, but it also meant you let him see a part of you you kept hidden from the rest of the world, and that was enough for hope. 

You turned around and stopped short when you spotted Steve standing there, grinning at you, looking just as pretty as he did the last time you saw him. He trimmed his beard, but it was still thick only cleaned up a bit, and those pretty blond locks tucked behind his ears made him look like a young boy. The tattoos on his forearm peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves and the black leather kutte resting over the snug burgundy Henley reminded you he was no boy. He was trouble, and he was looking to drag you into his mischief. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter how pretty he looked. It took a second for your brain to remind your feet they needed to move. Steve slid around the bar as you made your way towards him. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly, refusing to look up from the IPA bottle you were cracking open. 

"Came to see a friend of mine. His wife owns the place. I have to admit I thought it would be a lot harder to find you." 

Shit. You stopped mid pour and set the glass down, half full of foam. That would need a re-pour. 

No. This wasn't happening. Surely, he didn’t mean… No, no. No. 

"Wait..." You needed to know before you said things you couldn’t take back. "Are you talking about Bucky?" 

Steve tilted his head to the side. Now, that had his curiosity piqued. You could see him processing your question, and you knew exactly what he was thinking: Why did you know that Bucky was Bucky? It was rare that Bucky interfered in Natasha’s business at all. Everyone knew who her husband was and what he was, but it never went beyond James Barnes, Vice President of The Howlers. This sounded like you were… friends? 

You should have kept your mouth shut and walked away the second you saw him. 

"You know, Buck?" 

Buck... Oh, god. 

It suddenly all made so much sense, and you were such an idiot. 

“Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? I’m a decent person, aren't I?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling as if someone from the heavens would answer you. “This is so bad. Why do you have to be you?” 

You groaned and dropped your head to the bar top. Your one night stand was Bucky's best friend. Club president. Your Steve was Steve Rogers. The Howler’s MC President. The man who went on the road for three years and no one knew why, the one who went nomad and only returned home a few weeks ago. This was why you never let tequila make your decisions. You always end up doing something foolish, like charming bikers that will break your heart.

“I think this necklace of yours might be my good luck charm. Led me right to you, firecracker.” 

“Good luck or a curse?” You grumbled against the slick wood top. Steve hummed, clearly amused by the light chuckle that followed. You slowly lifted your head to glare at him, and he simply grinned back.

“Definitely good luck, sweetheart,” Steve assured you with a wink.

You refused to smile, and you certainly weren’t going to be the one that looked away first. You won’t give in to whatever he’s playing at. Steve settled against the wood and stared right back; his bright blue eyes glittered with amusement and something else that made your skin tingle and your inside burn with want. You recognized a young blond man from a night or two spent at Bucky and Natasha’s place strolled by the bar, only slowing down long enough to pat Steve on the back, but Steve didn’t even blink at the distraction. 

Nothing could pull him away from you. 

“Hey, Nomad. You comin’?” 

Nomad? 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute Clint. I’ve got some business out here first.” 

You could hear Clint cackling as he walked down the long hallway that led to Natasha’s office. You wondered what the club wanted here and how often the club— and Steve— would be hanging around. Natasha said there wasn’t any overlap between the two. There was a moment of uncertainty and fear when she first offered you the job. You didn’t know if you could work for her if her business was mixed up in club business. That was until she assured you the club didn’t interfere in her affairs. That put some of your worries at ease, not all but enough to give you the courage to accept the job. Your last run-in with an MC was why you ended up south Brooklyn begging Natasha for a place to stay and a position. That was how you ended up working at Red Star and sharing a pathetically tiny apartment with your new friend Wanda. 

There was no one else, no other friends to run to if things go south again. This was the only second chance you were getting, and you couldn’t blow it on someone like Steve Rogers. 

“Thought your name was Steve?” 

Steve grinned.

“That’s my given name. These idiots call me Nomad when they aren’t calling me Prez or Cap. Stevie on occasion. Everyone’s got a nickname ‘round here.”

You’ve heard plenty about their nicknames and all the things they’ve done to get them. 

“I think I prefer Charming,” you mumbled, walking down a few stools to finally hand over a fresh, less foamy IPA to the grump at the far end of the bar.

Every time you moved, Steve followed you, dodging the bodies sitting and standing, and there were several times you had to tell your heart to shut up and keep the flutters to herself. It was becoming increasingly evident that Steve wasn’t going to give up easily. Seeing as how he would probably be around often, you needed to put an end to whatever storybook ending he was building up in his head. 

"You can call me whatever you want." 

You rolled your eyes and slipped the neck of two bottles between your fingers on each hand. 

“Can I have your name now?” 

“No.” 

Steve laughed. He just laughed as if there was something funny about what you had said. He didn’t seem annoyed or upset by your callus tone. If anything, he enjoyed it. Once your hands were free, he reached for you and circled his long fingers around your wrist, loose enough you could easily slip free if you wanted to, but you made no move to lose his touch. You didn’t want to draw any more attention towards the two of you than you had already. That was absolutely the only reason you were letting him touch you. It had nothing to do with how much you liked the feel of his warm, calloused hands on your skin.

“I could keep calling you my firecracker.” 

“I’m not your anything,” you were quick to correct him. 

“No, you're not,” Steve said with a grin. “We haven't even gone on a date yet.”

Yet! As if there is a chance it would be happening. He was sadly mistaken if he thought there was going to be another page to your story. You raised a brow, and Steve hung his head in defeat, but the smile on his face hadn’t changed when he finally looked back up. Something about this man made you want to hide in the safety of his arms and stop running long enough to see if fairy-tales were real.

That was why things between you would never work. 

“Why won’t you give me a chance, hm?” 

Because you're just like all the rest, pretty and dangerous, the harsh voice in your head screamed. It was probably better he didn’t know you thought he was pretty. He seemed like the type to focus on the compliment and ignore the rest.

“Mmm, I’ve played with bikers before. The ride is dangerous, dirty, and short-lived. The risk is never worth the reward.” 

That made Steve frown for the first time since he walked into the bar and your heart-clenched at the look of concern on his face. For a second, you thought about taking it back. Telling him he could be different and maybe he was a good guy with a half-decent heart—even if you didn’t believe it. 

“Sounds Like you're playing with the wrong bikers. My rewards are always well worth the ride, babydoll." 

On second thought, with lines like that, maybe you were right from the start. You weren’t about to fall for the same overplayed words he’s used on every other girl to catch his eye. It would take a lot more than a cheap shot to get you back in his bed. You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his and slowly pulled back, grinning when he chased after you. You were starting to like this game, and that was begging for more trouble than your heart could handle. 

“All you bikers are the same,” you whispered, leaning across the bar practically nose to nose. “Sweet talk to get into a girl's panties, and then you’re over it. You all claim it’s love at first sight, but it never is. It’s about the chase, the high. It’s never about the girl.” 

Steve sighed. It didn’t sound annoyed, genuinely unsettled by your words, but he wasn’t irritated. More importantly, he wasn’t aggravated with you, but you were sure he felt sorry for you, which bothered you more.  When you dropped your gaze, he gently nudged your chin up with his knuckle until you willingly looked up to meet his eyes.“One problem with your theory, firecracker. I’ve already been in those pretty panties of yours, and I’m still chasing you. Did you ever think that maybe I’m not playing with you? That I actually like you?”  

The knot wedged in your throat made it impossible to answer. So you shrugged instead and let your silence speak for itself; no, you didn’t think that, and you didn’t trust him. None of what he said proved anything. It didn’t mean he was different. It just meant his rules were. The high would end once he won your heart, and you would be tossed to the side while he moved onto a newer, prettier skirt. 

Steve would get bored once he finally earned your heart and your trust, and that made him worse than the others. You would know. You pulled your chin away from his hand but stayed close enough to feel the heat from his hand.

"Go to dinner with me." 

"Steve--" 

"Y/n," Steve sighed playfully, grinning at the shock on your face. He knew your name, but he still asked for it? He shrugged, reading the question that was burning in your eyes. Natasha. She must have mentioned the new girl she hired, and Steve was smart enough to put two and two together. You weren’t sure you liked him knowing your name. He was that much closer to knowing all your secrets, and you couldn’t let that happen. 

"Go. To. Dinner. With me. Please." 

You hated how adorable he looked begging and pleading for only a few hours of your time. He was so cute, and you nearly gave in. Your head overruled your heart and reminded you exactly why you weren’t dating men like him. It only led to heartbreak, and you would very much like to avoid spending your nights crying over another beautiful biker who rode off with your heart. 

"I told you, I don't want anything serious. I’m not looking for more than what we had." 

"It doesn't have to be more than dinner, and I swear if you really don’t want to go on a date with this will be the last time I ask you. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, but I am dying to get you back on my bike. Next Saturday night, if you’re up for it. You can even pick the place if you want to. I promise it will be dinner only. No strings." 

"No strings?" you questioned, eyeing him for any signs of deceit as you did. There was none. Just an excitable puppy staring back at you, ready to give you whatever you wanted if you’d let him.

"Yeah, why not? We can be friends with benefits or whatever the kids call it nowadays." 

"Are we friends?" 

"We are if you say yes, darling." 

You could feel yourself giving in, and you already hated yourself for it because Steve was grinning victoriously, eyes bright, and pleading with you to say yes. You held up one finger ready with your conditions, and Steve quickly grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to the back, lost in the excitement of what he already knew was about to leave your lips. 

“One dinner, and I’m not promising any benefits.”

Steve lowered your hand and tilted his chin an inch, so his lips were brushing yours when he whispered, “Good. I prefer to earn every one of those sweet whimpers.” 

Someone behind you cleared their throat, and you quickly yanked your arm back, bumping into the wall of bottles behind you, causing the glass to rattle against each other. Bucky’s eyes flicked back and forth between you, and it didn’t take long for him to put it together. A slow grin stretched on Bucky’s face, quickly turning smug. He knew about your one-night stand, not in any detail but that you liked your mystery man far more than you should, and you assumed Steve shared his thoughts on that evening.  You narrowed your eyes at the brunet when he opened his mouth, and it quickly snapped shut—grabbing the empty crates at your feet needing something, anything to use as an excuse to get as far away from both of them as you could. The fridge in the basement was the furthest you could get at the moment, and that was precisely where you were headed. 

“Don’t even say it,” you hissed as you pushed past Bucky. 

Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes followed you until you were out of sight, disappearing down the stairs behind the bar. He looked drunk, maybe a little high, and definitely a little lovesick. 

“Gettin’ into trouble again, Stevie?”

“You could say that, Buck,” Steve sighed helplessly. “I’m getting into something. Not sure what just yet.” 

Prologue // next