#hopefully it actually looks nice on me or I’m shaving my head

[warlockduck]

I’m getting my hair dyed for the first time next week and after months of trying to decide what color I should get, I decided on black with red streaks

It is only now that I realize I’m gonna be looking like these fuckers

[sentientcave]

And They Were Roommates

Got brainworms from Ceilidho talkin' about Fem!Soap and wrote out a few scenarios, and landed on this one as my favourite. Maybe personal trainer Soap and hot woman complimenting you in a dive bar bathroom Soap will get written about later on.

Part 1

Part 2 Here

(Fem!SoapxFemReader) ~2.2k words

Alcohol mention, but no other major flags at this point. (A few jokes about axe murderers) But also MDNI because this is an 18+ blog and there will probably be NSFW content in future parts

You had put an ad up online.

Your best friend had moved in with her boyfriend, leaving you with more apartment than you could afford. You had enough savings to get you through till the next month, but things were going to be dicey if you didn’t find someone to take over Fern’s half of the rent soon.

You’d had plenty of responses, mostly from men that gave you creepy vibes, even through digital means. You’d actually met with only one person, and she was allergic to cats, which made her a no go.

She’d been nice enough, though. If it really came down to it, maybe Fern would take Red Herring. She did love that fat orange bastard. And so do you. The thought of giving him up, even to Fern, doesn’t sit right.

Red meows loudly through the door as your key scrapes in the lock. You nudge him away with your foot while you enter the apartment, wary of any escape attempts. You feed him so he stops yelling at you, and boil water so you can feed yourself some instant ramen for dinner, and boot up your laptop to check the ad again.

A few more creepy responses, one of which is just a slightly blurry dick pic. You delete them. One that looks promising.

>Hey! I’m interested in the room if it’s still available! Can we meet soon? I’m a military gal and I’m being deployed again next week and I already gave notice at the last rat-hole I was renting. Seemed like 60 days was plenty of time for apartment hunting 60 days ago, but I haven’t found anything lol. Hopefully we get along! You can give me a call any time in the next few days, and we can set up a meet’n’greet. Thanks a bunch! Jamie MacTavish

Her number is in brackets below that, next to the soap emoji, for whatever reason.

No sense waiting around. You call the number right away.

“Hello?” The voice is a woman’s, a dusky alto, which is a good first sign.

“Hi, Jamie? I’m calling about the apartment. Or, um, from the apartment.” You give her your name as an after thought, feeling silly that you hadn’t led with that.

“Yaldy! I was hopin’ ye’d call. I’ve got a friend I can move in with if it comes down to it, but I really don’t want to. He lives in a worse rat hole than I do. Are ye busy now? I’ll buy ye dinner if you like, just for the short notice and the trouble.”

Anything would be better than ramen for dinner a second night in a row. “Yeah, alright. There’s a decent pub down the street, Keeler’s? It’s close so I can give you an apartment tour if you pass the ‘not a murderer’ vibe check.”

There's a beat of silence. “Does killin’ people in the line of duty count?” she asked. “Because, er, I have. But I’m not like, prone to doin’ that kind of thing in my spare time.”

You think about it a moment. State sanctioned violence does feel different than personal time violence, although you're pretty sure that speaks to some sort of unaddressed bias. Something to think about. “I appreciate the honesty, at least.”

She laughed. “I can meet ye at yer pub in half an hour. That work for ye?”

“Yeah. That works.”

“Great. I’ll text you a picture of me so ye know who tae look for. See you soon.”

You get the text a minute after you hang up. A picture of a gorgeous woman with big smile and bright blue eyes, the sides of her head shaved, the rest of it left long and braided back from her face. She looks normal enough.

You get ready and head out, texting Fern to let her know where you’d gone, just in case Jamie actually was a murderer in her spare time.

Jamie’s already there when you get to the pub, sitting at the bar with a pint, watching the door intently, her leg bouncing. You give her a little wave, and she beams at you. She’s even hotter in real life, wearing tight, ripped up jeans that cling to her muscular thighs, and a tight black tank-top under a cropped leather jacket. She has almost no jewelry, other than the dog tags around her neck and the silver hoops in her ears. She looks, well, normal. Friendly.

You go up and introduce yourself, earning a firm handshake. She’s strong.

“Hi!” she says excitedly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jamie, but my friends call me Soap. I’d tell ye why, but it’s classified.”

“Is it really?”

“No. But it’s fun to say.” She flags down the bartender. “A pint for my friend here, if you don’t mind. You want to grab a booth? Or stay up at the bar?”

You look around, and there’s a few empty booths, but it’s early yet, and they tend to fill up quickly. “Let’s move. If we stay up here the single dads are going to start hitting on us.”

"We are a couple of dolls, aren't we?" She flashed another big smile at the bartender as he set a second pint out. "We're movin' to a table, if ye don't mind."

"No problem, love," he says, obviously besotted already. "I'll send Jenny around to take your order."

"Thanks, pal. Appreciate it."

You pick up the pint and follow her over to a booth, sliding in on the opposite side.

"So, you said you're military?"

"Ah am. SAS no less. Best of the bloody best. Not many jobs where ye get tae blow things up awl the time." She sheds her jacket, revealing impressively muscled arms. "I could just live on base, if things don't work out here, just so ye ken. No pressure on ye. But I hate stayin' on base when I don't have to. It's the communal showers. Most of the lads are, well, lads. Gotta shower in the middle of the night, and I keep bumpin' into my LT when I do. And he said I could move in with him too. I’m in a rush but I willnae be homeless, so ye don’t need to worry about me if you dinnae think we’ll get along."

You wince in sympathy. "That sounds terrible. I don't think I'd ever be comfortable showering in front of other people."

"Is naw so bad, if it's someone ye like seein' naked. But most of em are munters anyway. Wouldnae mind so much if more of 'em looked like you." She winked over the edge of her pint glass and took a swig.

You laugh at her little joke. She's fun, and you already feel at ease with her. She tells you about her old rat hole apartment, and a little about living on base, although she's a bit vague on the details of her actual job, beyond blowing things up.

She asks you about your work, and you tell her about the used bookshop you work at down the road. You're basically the only employee, and it's usually not too busy, although it can be annoying when you get a rush in the middle of pricing 'new' books. But it pays the rent, more or less. You talk a bit about Fern, and about Red Herring too.

"I love cats," she said excitedly. "Never been able to keep one, bein' away so much. LT had a dog, and he was awlright, but I'm definitely more of a cat girl. Got bit by a few too many pups in my day."

"Well, Red's a real love bug. Once we're done here you can meet him. I think we're going to get along fine."

"Och, really? Just like that, aye? Thought I'd have to work harder."

"Honestly, I thought I was going to have to accept some weirdo or give poor old Red away. You're a much better fit than I expected to find. I think we could be friends."

Her blue eyes track something behind you and narrow slightly. "Well, I'm holdin' ye to that. We're about to be accosted by my lads. Don't let them scare ye." She shoves her plate across the table into the spot next to you and clambers out of the booth. "Oi, what're you munters doin' here? I'm gettin' interviewed for an apartment. Dinnae need you scarin' my girl."

You look behind you, spotting a giant wearing a skull-print balaclava, and a more regular-sized (though no less muscular) black man with a brilliant smile. "We wanted to make sure she wasn't an axe murderer," he says pleasantly.

"Or a chainsaw murderer," the giant adds.

Soap cuts him off before he can take the seat beside you. "Over there," she orders, pointing at the opposite bench, where she'd been sitting. "I'm not lettin' you box her in." She grimaces at you apologetically as she drops into the spot beside you. Her thigh presses against yours for a moment, before you shift further down the bench. "They're sweet, in their own way. Think I need lookin' after. The big guy's Ghost, or LT. This handsome pain in the arse is Gaz. Don't let him sweet talk ye intae callin' him Kyle unless you want him tae put yer ankles up by yer ears. Made that mistake before."

"You don't have to bring that up every time you introduce me to a woman," Gaz says, clearly exasperated.

"I do. How else are they gonna know to call you for a good time?" She smacks his hand away from her plate when he reaches for it. "Oi! Order your own chips ye bastard."

"I only want a couple," Gaz protests.

"Ye always say tha' and ye always lie. Ah umnae fallin' for it again."

"You can have a couple of mine," you offer. "I wasn't going to finish them anyway."

"When do we get to see the place?" Ghost asked.

"Ye don't, unless yer carryin' boxes for me. I willna ask her to let three strangers in her home when she's only just met me."

"Well I guess we're helpin' ye move," Ghost said. "Was gonna leave it all to Price."

"Lazy cunts. Ne’er around when there’s work tae be done.”

“I was gonna help,” Gaz protests. “I already told you that.”

“And I did tell you that you could move into my place if you didn’t find somethin’ in time,” Ghost points out. “We’re not all bad.”

“Well, they’re not bad lads tae have watchin’ yer back in a fire-fight,” Soap admits. “But they dinnae know how to be normal about anythin’.”

“Are you supposed to be the normal one?” Ghost asks.

“Aye. And I willnae have you say otherwise in front of my new friend.”

She finishes eating long before you do, with the speed and gusto of a woman who often has to defend her plate against hungry scavengers. Gaz, true to Soap’s complaint, eats the majority of your chips, although he does thank you and give you a big, wide smile, the sort that could sell someone a bridge. He’s definitely a charmer.

Soap asks for the bill while you’re finishing up. You reach for your purse, but she puts a hand on yours and gives you an intense blue stare. “No, kitty. I told ye I was buyin’ ye dinner, I’ll no’ let ye make me a liar, especially when Gaz ate half your plate.”

God she’s strong. You’re not sure that you could shake her off to insist even if you tried. “Alright. I just—”

“Oh I ken. But I wouldna offer if I didna mean it. I’m a woman of her word.” She pays with cash, and offers you a hand up and out of the booth. She points a warning finger at her friends. “And dinnae follow us, ye creepy bastards.”

They laugh, like they hadn’t followed her to the pub in the first place.

“They really do mean well,” Soap says, linking her arm with yours as you step out onto the street. “But they’ve go’ a bad habit of thinkin’ they dinnae need to respect my space just ‘cause we’ve all spent nights crammed into one room sharin’ cots. I think if the captain had his way we’d all live in his house and sleep in a big fuck-off pile like dogs.”

“Sound a bit claustrophobic.”

“Aye. Ye understand why I’m so eager to make this work with ye, kitty-cat. If I move in with LT it’s just a matter of time before Price comes over tae help us fix somethin’ and says ‘Oh, I dinny know why ye both stay in this shitehole. Whyna stay with me a while, till we find ye somethin’ better?’ And then before we know it we’re all sleepin’ in the same bed and usin’ the same toothbrush.”

You giggle, hoping that's just a joke. “That’s gross.”

“I ken! Horrible men, they are. I need some girl time before I go mad.” She squeezes your arm and knocks her head against yours gently. “We’re goin’ tae be best friends in no time, kitty. I wish I wasna goin’ away so soon.”

“You haven’t even seen the apartment yet!”

“Och, tha’s a formality. I was more wurried about us gettin’ along, kitty. The apartment doesna matter all that much, so long as it’s got a workin’ shower and a place for my bed. If I pass Mr. Herring’s sniff test, I’ll give ye cash on the spot, aye? For next month an’ half of this one, since you’d be lettin' me move in before the first.”

And, well, it’s hard to think of a good reason to say no.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Sparkles - Harry Styles

happy new year folks! this is my NYE gift for all of you, hope 2021 will treat you well and see you soon with hopefully a lot of content! thank you for being here with me this year, 2020 was an emotional ride for me, but tumblr remained my happy place. thank you for all the support you showed me and my art this year, cheers to a new one! enjoy this little soon-to-be-dad!harry piece as celebration

word count: 2.5k

masterlist

Harry finishes up the last touch on the virgin mojitos, adorning his work he did with the sugar-coated edge of the glass, feeling quite proud how he nailed it. He softly hums along the music that’s flowing from the record-player as he cleans up after himself, leaving the kitchen spotless, just when he hears his name called out.

“Harry? Can you help me?” Y/N’s voice comes from their shared bedroom and he is quick to drop everything to come to her rescue.

“Coming!”

He shuffles into the room, finding his very pregnant wife sitting on the edge of their bed, her favorite pair of heels at her feet that go well with the loose dress she is wearing. She has ditched wearing anything tight a while ago, feeling way more comfortable in baggy clothes since her bump started showing. He never tried to convince her to wear her usual clothes, he has read enough to know how much she goes through with her body image during pregnancy, so he just always wanted to make sure she feels comfortable over fashionable. Also, she looks breathtakingly beautiful to him regardless of what she is wearing. Or what she is not wearing…

Her eyes lift up to him as he appears in the room, she is leant back on one arm behind her while her other hand is cupping her bump.

“Can you please help me put them on?” she pouts and Harry is on his knees in front of her without a second thought. It’s not the first time she struggles to put her shoes on, but Harry doesn’t mind helping her do such mundane things, if anything, it just makes him feel involved, like he is able to take just a tiny part of the hard side of pregnancy away even if it’s just as small as putting on her shoes or shaving her legs in the parts where she can’t reach anymore.

“You sure you’ll be fine in heels all night, baby?” he asks, carefully sliding her slightly swollen feet into the heels, but they luckily still fit.

“Already packed a change, don’t worry,” she grins, her hand running up and down her stomach as Harry finishes up the task. Smirking up at her he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to her bump, cupping the sides in his palms. Though he can’t wait to finally meet their little baby girl in just three short weeks, he gotta admit he’ll miss the bump.

Over the course of this pregnancy, he has grown to love this state of the woman he is in love with. See her go through the changes, experience new things and grow a new life in her own body, it’s been a privilege to be by her side through the journey and Harry can’t wait to see her do it again whenever the time is going to be right.

Standing up he helps her to her feet, she smoothes out the soft fabric of the dress that reaches just above her knees.

“You look amazing, baby,” he smiles, kissing her lips softly.

“Thank you. What time is it, should we leave?”

“Let’s drink our cocktails and then we can leave,” Harry nods. They move out to the kitchen and she squeals in happiness seeing the mojitos she requested from him earlier.

“These look so nice!” she gasps doing a little happy dance as she takes the one Harry hands her. “Is yours alcohol free too?”

“Of course.”

“You know you can drink, right? I don’t mind it.”

“I know. But I don’t want to,” he smiles down at her, clinking his glass against hers. “Cheers, baby.”

She smiles up at him stealing a quick kiss before they both taste the drink.

“Mm, this is amazing, H,” she nods to herself, gulping from the cocktail again and again.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Yes. Can’t wait to have one with actual alcohol in it,” she smirks making him chuckle. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head before chugging down his own drink.

Not so much later they get in the car and head over to one of their friends’ New Year’s Eve party they’ve been invited to. Harry was hesitant to accept the invitation at first, knowing well she would be close to full term at this point, but she seemed too excited to go out, something she hasn’t done too much lately. Pregnancy has made her way too tired most of the time to even leave the house, her natural habitat became their king sized bed, wearing mostly Harry’s jumpers with just her knickers.

Upon arriving to the party that’s held in a penthouse, Harry keeps a hand on her lower back at all times, making sure she is okay, whether it’s about needing something to drink, to eat or if she decides to change her shoes. That happens quite fast, barely over an hour into the evening Y/N makes her way to one of the plush couches and Harry gladly helps her get rid of the torturous heels and put on her ballerina shoes.

It’s past eleven when he first lets her out of his sight, only so she could go to the bathroom, though he asks if she needs help with that as well.

“I think I’ll manage,” she smiles at him, hand sliding to the back of his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss.

His eyes cautiously follow her disappear down one of the hallways, nursing the same soda he opened an hour ago. He returns his attention to the conversation they were in before her leaving and barely notices that she is taking way too long in the bathroom. When he realizes that she hasn’t returned, he excuses himself from the little group to go and find his wife. Dodging anyone who tries to pull him into another conversation, he makes his way down the hallway he last saw Y/N waddle away. It’s not his first time here, so he knows exactly where to find the bathroom, however, his eyes fall on something that diverts from his destination.

Walking past one of the many bedrooms, he notices an all too familiar pair of slightly swollen feet propped up on the edge of a bed through the door that’s ajar and a smile falls on his lips right away as he pushes it further open. Lying comfortably on top of the king sized bed, there is Y/N resting on her side, the only position she can sleep these days, hugging one of the giant pillows to herself, snoozing adorably.

Harry knew she would get tired way too early, though she was convinced it wouldn’t be a problem, staying up past midnight, yet here she is, sleeping the night away while the party is still buzzing outside. Her shoes are abandoned at the leg of the bed, purse tossed to the nightstand and Harry swears she probably came in to just lie down for a bit because her back was starting to hurt, but eventually fell asleep.

Walking inside he closes the door behind him, the bedside lamp illuminating the room enough for him to navigate to the other side of the bed as he kicks his shoes off. He couldn’t care less about all the people outside, it doesn’t matter that they probably should be out there mingling, right now he just wants to hold his pregnant wife and have a nap with her, regardless of the fact that they might miss midnight.

As soon as he lies down behind her, his arm circles around her, hand coming to rest just above her popped out belly button and though he tried to be as careful as possible, she still wakes up, blinking at him over her shoulder a little groggily.

“Harry? I fell asleep,” she whispers, partially to herself, rather than to him.

“I know baby. It’s alright.”

“M’sorry, I just came in here to have a breather, but I just felt so tired,” she adds, yawning into her words at the end.

“Don’t worry. Wanna stay a little longer or do you wanna go out?”

“How much time do we have until midnight?” she asks, furrowing her eyebrows before her eyes go wide. “Wait, did I sleep through midnight?”

“No, you didn’t,” he chuckles softly, kissing her shoulder. “Want me to set an alarm for us?”

“Please,” she nods, dropping her head back to the pillow. He fishes his phone out of his back pocket, setting an alarm ten minutes before midnight so they have a little over twenty minutes to rest before they have to emerge from their temporary bedroom.

Dropping the phone behind him to the mattress, he places back his palm to her bump, gently caressing it as she leans back against his body, enjoying the warm embrace of him. They both doze off soon, the party outside is long forgotten as they enjoy some alone time, but those twenty minutes go by faster than they wanted it to and they are shaken up from their shallow sleep by the sound of his phone’s alert.

“Ah fuck,” he slurs, blindly tapping around the mattress behind him until his hand finally finds the phone and he turns it off.

“Why am I so tired?” she breathes out rolling to her back, staring up at the ceiling with sleepy eyes. Harry’s eyes wander down on her body and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips seeing her bump towering high. He is still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that there’s a tiny baby girl in there, his baby girl.

“Because you are growing our baby. That needs a lot of energy,” he mumbles kissing her tummy softly, running his hand up and down on it.

“Do you think she’ll look more like you or me?” she asks excitedly, tangling her graceful fingers through his hair as he presses his cheek gently against the side of her bump.

“I hope she’ll take more after you,” he smiles at her.

“Really?”

“Of course. But like, with a hint of me,” he adds, making her chuckle.

“I want her to have your eyes. I love them,” she muses and reaching out she runs a finger delicately through his left eyebrow, bringing it down the side of his face until it reaches his lips. He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the pad of her finger, tugging her smile wider with the softness of his actions.

They hear the buzzing increase outside, so they figure the countdown is close. Though the both know they should be heading out to be with the rest of the guests, neither of them moves.

“I’m a little afraid though,” she whispers as the smile falls from her lips.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’ll be weird that it won’t be just the two of us anymore.”

“Do you… regret…?” he implies hesitantly, a little afraid of her answer even though he knows it.

“Of course not,” she breathes out with a soft smile. “I wanted this. We both wanted, right?” Harry nods at her question. “I just… I’m a little afraid we will lose… us. You know what I mean?”

“I think I do,” he nods again, pushing himself up before he scoots closer, caging her between his arms on the bed as he holds himself up above her. “And I promise you I will never stop working on us. I’ll try my best to keep these sparkles alive for as long as we live.”

“So you still feel the sparkles?” she asks with a shy smile, hands sliding to the back of his neck as she starts playing with his curls.

“Of course I do,” he smirks.

“Even after spending five years with me, you still haven’t gotten bored of me?”

“I could never,” he chuckles shaking his head dramatically, making his curls brush against her forehead.

“Yeah?” she giggles. “Not even when I’m making you watch Big Hero 6 for the millionth time?”

“Not even then,” he assures her. He could never say no to her pouty look whenever she is trying to make him watch it again, because it’s her favorite Disney movie of all times. If anything, he cherishes the moments when she is all cuddled up to his side and quotes the lines perfectly, eyes shining so brightly. He would do anything to make her happy.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins outside, yet they still don’t move. Staring at each other, they preserve this precious moment, one of the last ones where they are on their own. Her hands go to cup his cheeks, her thumb running along the soft skin under his eyes.

“I love you. So much,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a short moment to enjoy her soft touch.

“Seven! Six! Five! Four!”

“I love you too,” she whispers, getting lost in his eyes once they lock on hers again.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, my love. I can’t wait to see what this year brings for us.”

“Happy New Year, baby,” she smiles, pulling him down for a sweet and appreciative kiss, the first one of the year.

They drag the moment a little longer, enjoying the sparkles that are still clearly there, before they pull back, grinning at each other like crazy.

“We should head back, don’t we?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Can we leave soon though? I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

“Of course,” he chuckles pecking her lips one last time before he scoots to the edge of the bed to get off of it.

“Harry?” she calls out and when his eyes return to her frame, she is still lying in the same position.

“Love, we really shouldn’t stay any longer in here,” he huffs, eyes soft on her, but she shakes her head.

“It’s not that. I think… I think I need some help getting up,” she admits chuckling.

“Oh right,” he mumbles shuffling over to her side to grab her hands and gently pull her up until she sits on the edge of the bed. He kneels down without a second thought, putting on her shoes, making her smile. “There,” he breathes out, helping her to her feet. She circles her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible with her bump.

“You are going to be such an amazing dad, Harry,” she breathes out kissing him delicately.

“I hope so,” he chuckles nervously, his hands squeezing her hips gently. “Come on, let’s schmooze a little longer so we can go home and sleep.”

“That’s the best thing you said tonight,” she sighs dramatically, making his eyes go wide.

“Oh really? That was the best?”

“Just kidding!” she chuckles pinching his cheek before adding in a mumble: “Kinda.”

“You’re lucky you are pregnant, I wouldn't let this slide otherwise,” he shakes his head, taking her hand as they head towards the door.

“Oh, but you love me too much to get mad at me, right?”

Smirking he opens the door and holds it open for her.

“I do love you a lot.”

Thank you for reading! Like/reblog if you liked it and leave a feedback!

[alliedbiscuit]

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

[emitheduck]

Haircut (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: Like I said, every Friday I have a Bucky story lol. This one is cute, but the next one is gonna be a little more serious.  --

“Could you maybe stay still? I have scissors like, right near your ears.” (Y/n) huffed as she held the man's shoulders steady. “It’s like you want me to mess up.” 

Bucky chuckled under his breath, knowing better than to laugh at her. “I’m sorry. I think I’m just a little nervous that’s all.” 

She shook her head, continuing to clip away at the long strands of brunette hair. “You’re going to look so handsome when I’m done. Not that you aren’t now, but it’s going to be nice seeing you a little less shaggy.”

“Hey! I thought you liked me shaggy!” He retorted, moving quickly which caused her to wince and pull her hand and the scissors away from the back of his neck. “What’s the matter?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed the comb. “Well because you moved, I cut it shorter than I wanted to, so you’re getting a different hair cut.”

“What do you mean, different haircut?” He questioned as he watched her reach for the electric shears. “Oh god, you’re going to shave me bald.”

“You’re not gonna be bald!” She laughed as she started to shave around the back of his neck. “I’m going for more of a, ‘longer up top with shorter on the bottom’ kind of look.” 

He groaned. “I have a feeling that I’m gonna have a bald spot after this.” 

(Y/n) stopped what she was doing on the back of his head to focus more on the front. The back was at least even, so she didn’t have to worry so much. The top however, could use a little more work. “You have hair gel, right?” 

He looked over at the small table next to him that she had set up, basically throwing all the hair products they collectively owned on it. “I think there might be some gel here somewhere.” He told her as he started to look at the labels on the products. “Yeah, I found some.” 

She took the small bottle from his hand, squeezing out a decent glob so she could heat it with her hands before she started to rake it though his hair, trying her best to get his hair to sort of spike up in the front. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair short.”

Bucky looked up and watched her. She was concentrating so hard on making sure his hair looked perfect, and he could actually feel his heart swell as he watched her. She was amazing for staying with him, and working with him to get to this point where he would accept a haircut.

“You’re staring at me.” She pointed out as she sat on his lap, their chests together while she continued to work her fingers through his hair. “Hopefully for a good reason?” 

“It’s always a good reason.” He chuckled as he leaned up and softly kissed her, his right hand coming up to rest on her cheek. “I just love you, and love that you’re doing this.”

She giggled, breaking away from the kiss as she tried to finish his hair. “Come on, let me work the rest of the gel in, and then we can snuggle on the couch or something. I’m almost done.”

He groaned as she continued, never the type to get fidgety but for some reason now was the time. “So let me ask, are you doing this really for me, or is this something for you?”

“Shit..” She mumbled as she dropped her hands from her head. “Well, I kind of wanted you to look nice for this weekend.”

“So you were hiding something from me?” He smirked, trying to hide the feeling of disappointment that there was something she didn’t want to tell him. “Sneaky isn’t a very good look for you, love.”

(Y/n) sighed as she closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “My mother has decided she wanted to come visit, and I mentioned that I had a boyfriend and she was really excited to meet you. But then she googled you, and it all went south from there.”

Bucky was now chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knew that the first thing that happened when you looked up his name, it only showed his past and never his present. “Let me guess. She doesn’t want you dating a murderer.”

“I can’t even phrase it nicely anymore.” She murmured as she looked at him. “I thought, the first step to getting her to see you, how I see you, would be a haircut.” Her eyes were filled with tears at this point, trying her best to not cry.

“Love, it’s okay. I’ll charm the hell out of her, and she’ll forget about all the shit I did.” He was trying his best to make her smile, his hands lifting her cheeks so he would look at her. “And I swear, I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll make dinner, I’ll clean the guest room; whatever it takes to be amazing.”

“You already are amazing.” She laughed as she dried her eyes with the back of her hands. “She just gets scared sometimes, and I know it’s been hard for her since my dad passed away. She has to be good cop and bad cop at the same time.” 

Bucky smiled slightly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Now, how about you show me my hair and we can start from there. I’m gonna have to know if I need to go get it fixed or not.” He laughed as she swatted at his chest for teasing her.

(Y/n) brought the mirror over and he actually gasped, causing her to frown. “You hate it, don’t you. I guess I’ll go see if the salon has any free time this afternoon.”

“No! I actually love it!” He said as he ran his hand through his now short hair. “You did an amazing job. Why did you never cut my hair before?”

 “You used to yell at me when I always asked!” (Y/n) laughed as she set the mirror down. “Now how about you clean all your hair on the ground, and I can order us some food?” She suggested as she brushed off the last bit of hair from his shoulder. 

Bucky nodded, following her into the kitchen so he could grab the broom and dustpan. “Thank you, by the way. I might have been a jerk the whole time, but I really do like the haircut.”

“You weren’t being a jerk. You were being yourself. Your handsome, stubborn, and moody self.” (Y/n) smiled, kissing him quickly before she grabbed the phone to order them a pizza.

---

Bonus:

“Whoa! Look at you!” Sam smiled as he walked into the apartment, a pizza in hand. “When (Y/n) asked me to pick this up on the way here, I didn’t think I would get the absolute joy of this!” Sam smiled as he motioned to Bucky’s head.

“Aw shut up! I think it looks nice!” Bucky defended as he grabbed the box from the other man.

“You look less likely to murder someone, that’s for sure.” Sam laughed when (Y/n) handed him a beer. “How did you convince him to do this?”

She smirked, looking down at the beer in her hand. “Well, I feel like the answer isn’t the best…”

“Sex. A lot of sex.” Bucky chuckled as Sam groaned and covered his ears. 

Masterlist

[nothorses]

Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I just thought I’d ask because Google isn’t very good-

What are some things that happen on T that you dont expect/think will happen/surprised you?

I know the obvious stuff like voice dropping and hair and muscle growth being easier, but idk what to expect other than those bits and I’m a bit nervous.

Sorry to bother you, have a lovely day! 💚

Ooh, okay. This is exactly why I kept a journal.

lemme start with the most helpful bit of info I received pre-T:

Skin oiliness/acne

Everyone has different experiences with this; personally, my acne actually cleared up completely for a few months when I first started. Now it’s back, and worse, but I’ve noticed it’s mostly around my mouth and chin- where beard growth is beginning. Also, upper back and shoulders. Those areas seem to be the typical ones, from what I gather.

I am definitely oilier, and I definitely need to shower every day. I recommend getting lotion for your back, and some kind of scrubber, and washing your face morning and night to deal with oiliness. I use basic face wash, toner, and moisturizer, plus I exfoliate and use a hydrating face mask 2 or 3 times a week. And benzoyl peroxide cream for the zits. That’s what was recommended to me & it’s working pretty well, but ymmv!

Cessation of menstrual period

This also varies for everyone, especially between gel and injections. I’m on injections, and mine stopped about three months in. It was also kind of a petering out; they might get longer or less intense for a bit before they stop entirely.

Body fat redistribution

This one takes a while and isn’t super immediately noticeable, but working out helps speed this process along. You may also gain weight when you’re first starting T, and most folks’ appetites increase as well. Mine certainly did- but then I started Adderall not long after, which has lessened it again.

Vaginal atrophy

This just means you begin to produce less fluid & tighten up. Lube is your friend, prep is your friend, just be kind to your stuff. You shouldn’t experience any pain or significant discomfort, but I was sort of dry/itchy for a month or so near the beginning, and lube helped with that. Talk to a doctor if it keeps going on and doesn’t get better in time.

Increased muscle mass/strength

This one can take a while to start, but I’ve heard that it can be tough to know your own strength when it does. Again, working out helps!

Changes in libido

My libido increased fast and hard. You will not be uncontrollable by any means, you will not become a sex-crazed beast, you will not lose your faculties or any of that shit people sometimes try to scaremonger with. It’s literally just that your regular hornyness happens more often, and might feel stronger as well. It’s also normal for orgasms to feel different after some time on HRT; less full-body, more specific to the genital region.

Some folks also talk about shifts in orientation. In my experience, the orientation thing has been true, but only because I feel more comfortable in my own body now! I’m more comfortable with the idea of physical relationships because I’m more comfortable with existing and being perceived physically. I have a better read on who I’m actually attracted to because I’m not on eight planes of dissociation from my own emotions and sense of attraction. It feels better, and more true to who I actually am.

Facial/body hair growth

This varies for everyone too! Body hair starts to thicken and spring up in new areas; I noticed it on my lower abdomen first. My leg hair seems to be darkening and thickening a bit, too. Facial hair can feel itchy and even hurt a bit when it first starts, but essentially it’s your peach fuzz starting to thicken up and grow longer over time. It can also be sort of patchy and inconsistent, and it can take multiple years for it to fill out into satisfying beard hair.

Give it time! Shaving won’t speed things up, but getting shaving materials a few months in isn’t a terrible idea. The patchy/inconsistent/whispy growth isn’t everyone’s favorite look to rock, and shaving can be a validating experience. Personally I like to let things grow, since I live alone and nobody sees me without a mask on, but it’s nice to have the option.

Bottom growth

I think this is weirdly one that folks don’t really talk about, but it is one of the more significant changes! Things may feel pretty sensitive pretty quickly (mine started within the first month) and it’s helpful to wear bottoms with some space in those first few months after you feel bottom growth starting. It can definitely be painful at times- that’ll chill out after a while, though.

I don’t want to get super explicit with this post, but it will essentially look a lot like a very small penis after some time. You need to take care to clean it- rinse, and use very basic, unscented soap very sparingly- and keep in mind that you may be prone to UTIs. Cranberry juice won’t do much, but cranberry pills will!

Deepened voice

This also started very early for me. My throat was sore almost immediately, and while there was no noticeable change in my voice, the soreness kept up almost constantly for months. My first “drop” was during my second month, though usually that happens the third month.

My voice was kinda scratchy and weak for a while, and it was hard to figure out where to speak; it sort of felt like I was just more inclined to use a lower register most of the time. Gradually, the higher part of my range started to become... “locked”? If I tried to speak too highly, my voice would squeak and crack. Now, it’s naturally much deeper, and I can’t speak above a certain register at all. There’s just no sound!

It can help to learn to speak from your belly, not your head, if you want your voice to be deeper. You may also notice that certain ways of speaking and certain inflections read differently as your voice changes; a lot of voice training for trans men is about using a flatter inflection. How you want to sound is entirely up to you, and there’s no wrong way to speak.

Also, low-T can make the voice change process easier and help preserve your singing voice, and may be worth looking into if that’s important to you. Changes will happen more slowly overall on low-T.

Hair loss/male pattern baldness

This was the one I was honestly afraid of, but the nurse I spoke to is also on T, and what he told me was that “hair loss” just means your hairline shifts to a more masculine shape. Nothing scary! Male pattern baldness is also determined by genetics; look to male family members for predictions on when that might set in for you, if it does.

Hopefully there’s some helpful info in there! It’s also 2am now, so I might just be unintelligible. Good luck, friend, and if you’re starting soon, congrats!!

[violetlilysunshine]

Always the Prettiest, Part 2

Chris Evans x Reader

Read Part 1 Here! 

Requested

Anon: Thank you for writing my request!! I loved it!! Would you write a part 2 of when she actually cuts her hair? Maybe Chris helps her do it?

WC: 2,154

Warnings: a little angsty-ish, swearing, mostly fluff, tiny mention of smut at the end.

A/N: Sorry this took so long! The first part wrote itself but this one I struggled to get down and had no idea how to end it, hope you still like it!

MASTERLIST

It was a few weeks later and you were set to fly out in two days to start filming. You were so excited to start your new role and take on this new character, but still couldn’t get over the fact that you had to shave your head. Yes, Chris had talked you down to normal, but now that it was time to do it, your insecurities were flooding in again. 

You sat on a barstool in front of the bathroom mirror, the counter lined with all of the tools you would need. You had decided that you wanted to do this yourself, hopefully surprising him when he got back, but that idea seems to have flown out the window. 

You had tied your hair into four ponytails, deciding to donate it because you might as well, and were ready to make the first cut when the front door opened and Dodger started barking. You knew it was Chris and having him around made your nerves jump even more. 

You put down the scissors and looked in the mirror at yourself again. “It’s too late to drop out,” you thought, taking a deep breath, “it’ll grow back eventually.”

“Baby, where are you?” Chris called from the door, still being attacked by Dodger.

“Up here,” you answered back, your voice small.

Chris hurried up the stairs, eager to scoop you up in his arms. He plowed through the bedroom door, Dodger hot on his heels, only to find it empty. He looked around for a second as Dodger nudged the bathroom door open with his nose. The light drew Chris’ attention as he followed his best friend. Your image quickly came into view and his demeanor softened. 

“Getting started, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Uh, yeah,” you breathed, “was thinking I’d maybe surprise you with it but I stalled too long and now you’re here,” you laughed lightly, trying to calm your nerves. 

“Want some help?” he asked, gently, understanding if this was something you wanted to do on your own, but he so desperately wanted to comfort you. 

You hesitated again, not knowing whether he would help or hurt in this situation. In the end, you decided that anything he was involved in was always better, “please,” you answered while you looked down at your hands fiddling with each other. 

“You sure, darlin’? I don’t mind if you wanna do it yourself,” he soothed. 

“I’m sure. I need you, bubba.”

“Okay, com’ere, “ he whispered, extending his arms and pulling you in. 

You tucked your head into his chest and he placed a few kisses on top of it as his hands ran up and down your back. You felt a few tears spring to the surface as he rocked you just barely. He squeezed you tighter, waiting for you to pull away first; he had all the time in the world to comfort you. 

You pulled back gently, keeping your hands on his sides, as you looked into his eyes. He looked back at you, having a silent conversion that only the two of you would understand.

“Ready?” he asked eventually.

“Ready,” you said, your breath a little shaky. 

“I think you should make the first cut, ya know? Be in control and all…” he suggested, gently. 

“Okay,” you breathed, picking up the scissors.

You brought the pair up to the first ponytail slowly; your hands shook as you grasped the hair in one of them, the other opened the scissors, capturing the bundle in between the blades. You let out a deep breath between your teeth. You closed your eyes and slammed the scissors shut in one quick motion. You felt the hair break away, allowing you to bring the bundle down into your hands. 

“Like a band-aid,” you whispered to Chris, eyes still shut.

He laughed back at you lightly, “yeah, a band-aid.” 

You slowly opened your eyes, first taking in the sight of the bundle in your hands, then glancing up into the mirror. Your eyes widened, seeing what hair was left sticking out in all directions because it was so short. You let out another heavy breath, looking over at Chris to see his reaction.

He was smiling at you genuinely, a twinkle in his eye. You laughed a little bit at him, not fully being able to discern what he was feeling, but he wasn’t looking at you with disgust, so that had to be a good sign. He glanced down at the bundle still clutched tightly in your hand before looking up into your eyes, his smile widening.

“Holy fuck,” you laughed, dropping the bundle onto the counter. 

Your hands reached up to feel the hair left behind; your heart was beating out of your chest. You felt kind of liberated, your feminism taking over as you laughed at yourself in the mirror. 

“Fuck beauty standards!” you yelled at yourself in the mirror, laughing loudly. 

Chris laughed with you, watching you embrace yourself. He’d never felt so in love with you.

For a second you felt so free, then reality smacked you back in the face. You still hadn’t finished and this wasn’t just a one day thing. Your hair would take forever to grow back and you wouldn’t look like yourself and what if you weren’t pretty anymore and Chris left you? The last thought cut you to your core as your shoulders sank. Chris saw the wheels spinning in your head and took the scissors from your hand.

“Let me help, yeah?” he asked, knocking you from your thoughts, “there’s no going back now, hot stuff,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

He repeated your earlier movements to the remaining three ponytails on your head, lightly chopping them off and dropping them next to the first. 

“Someone’s going to get a very beautiful wig,” he whispered as he placed the last one down. 

You kind of wished he hadn’t said that, again thinking that he thought you were beautiful because of your hair.

“But I get to keep the best part,” he added, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you stared in the mirror.

He kissed your face and head over and over, just holding you there for a while, letting you rest before moving forward. 

Once you started to wiggle in his arms, he reached out and grabbed the clippers. He placed the shortest guard on it, before plugging it in. You watched him do all of this, your stomach turning in knots and hands shaking. He reached out and took one of your hands, turning it over in his own before placing the clippers in it.

“You wanna take the first swipe again?” he asked quietly, but you knew it wasn’t really a question.

“Okay,” you breathed, wrapping your fingers around the base. 

You turned on the clippers, flinching a little at the buzz in the almost silent room. You slowly brought the instrument up to your head, aiming right in the center. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before making contact. 

“There’s no going back baby, just do it,” he whispered.

You didn’t know why you were struggling so much; you’d already lobbed off all of your hair. You can’t put it back on, so what was the alternative?

Chris gently brought his hand up over yours, “together?” he questioned. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, lowering the clippers down and making contact before taking a long swipe straight out of the top of your head. His hand wasn’t really doing anything; he didn’t add any pressure or control your direction, instead he just steadied you.

You let out a deep breath as you pulled the clippers away and turned them off. The hair that you’d just shaved fell to the floor around you. You took a deep breath, staring at yourself in the mirror. Now you really had to do it, there was no way a hairdresser could fix this into some sort of Pixie cut. 

Your hands were resting in your lap gently holding the clippers. You raised the device up, holding it out to Chris gently, “can you finish it?” you asked, your voice so small it hurt him to hear. 

“Of course, honey, whatever you want me to do.”

You felt emotionally drained, still fretting about what would happen between you and Chris, but he insisted that this wouldn’t change anything. 

He worked his way around your head slowly, buzzing away the hair and brushing it off gently with his hands before taking another swipe. He soon finished, set down the clippers, and stepped away from you.

You took a deep breath, still watching your reflection in the mirror. “This is new,” you thought. You swiped your hands over your head, feeling the fuzz. It reminded you of when Chris buzzed his and it was so soft you couldn’t keep your hands off of it. At least you can do that all the time now. 

“I think I want to shower, ya know? Wash the hair off of me,” you said quietly.

“Okay, darlin’, I’ll be downstairs when you’re done,“ Chris answered, leaving you by yourself.

You felt like crying but didn’t, you weren’t really sad, just drained. You instead, swept up all the hair, discarding it in the bathroom trash, put away all of the tools you’d used, got out your best soaps and scrubs, and took a nice long, hot shower. 

You breathed deeply, letting the water wash everything away. It was nice to not spend 10 minutes on your hair, and not worry about brushing it once you’d gotten out, and then how you were going to style it. You ran your hands over it again in the mirror when you’d finished. You felt kind of liberated. Free. You weren’t weighed down by your locks anymore. You couldn’t hide behind it. You were coming around to the new cut. You applied some moisturizer before leaving the bathroom. You threw on one of Chris’ oversized sweatshirts, some leggings, and some fuzzy socks, before walking downstairs. 

You entered the living room, thinking Chris would be on the couch with Dodger, but you found him in the kitchen, his back to you as he stirred some pasta boiling on the stove.

“Hi,” you spoke quietly, letting him know you were there.

He answered, not turning around at first, “hi, baby, thought I’d make your favorite for dinner, alfredo, per your dad’s recipe of course, maybe it’ll cheer you up a - holy shit…” he cut himself off, finally turning around.

You ran your hand over your neck nervously as his eyes trailed up and down your body. You didn’t bother dolling yourself up, instead opting to be comfortable and cozy.

“What?” you asked, quiet as ever.

His eyes trailed over you some more, memorizing every detail of your body. He focused on your face for a few seconds before answering.

“You’re so…” he trailed off, “so gorgeous.”

“Really?” you asked, still a little insecure about the big change and its effect on your relationship.

“Absolutely, hot stuff,” he breathed, chuckling a little as he walked towards you. 

He reached your side and wrapped you in his arms instantly, planting a nice hard kiss to your mouth. 

“God I love you so much,” he breathed, pulling back a little, “I’ve never loved you more, actually.”

“Really?” you giggled, “even with no hair?”

“Even with no hair,” he chuckled back, “can I touch?” he asked.

Your eyes lit up and your smile widened when you heard him.

“Course,” you answered, again remembering how obsessed with his buzz you’d been.

He rubbed one hand gently against your head, a smile breaking out across his face.

“What’re you smiling about?” you giggled at him.

“Nothing, doll.”

“No, tell meeeeee,” you begged.

“Okay, okay, I love it, I do, I love seeing you try something new, but…” he trailed off.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, you didn’t want to hear a “but.” Your eyes widened as you shriveled inside yourself. 

“But, what?” you asked, voice small again.

“But I'm really gonna miss pulling it,” he laughed loudly.

You laughed back at him lightly, your heart lightening once again, “that’s exactly how I felt when you did yours, stud muffin.”

He laughed some more before squeezing you even tighter and kissing you again. This time taking things a step further and pushing his tongue in your mouth, “were you hungry now?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Not especially,” you answered, rubbing your hands up his sides, sliding under his shirt. 

“Well let’s put a pause on dinner,” he kissed you again quickly, turning around and shutting off the stove, “I’d like to find something else to grab onto, hot stuff.”

You laughed loudly this time as he dropped his hands to the backs of your thighs, lifted you up, carried you to the living room, and dropped you on the sofa, beginning to kiss up your body.

[floraltypes]

Owe Me a Coffee

who - gibbs x reader 

tw - mentions of sex, fires, blood, beatings, death

an - I took french for two years, but I’m not fluent and had to use a translating app so I hope it isn’t too bad ! Request something as well, I finally got them working :)

uneditied :/

“Damn you DiNozzo,” You cursed, staring at the man and moving your hand to smack him up besides the head.

You couldn’t help but think back to this morning, getting stuck with the annoying, cocky, flirty, obnoxious, co-worker. Doing a undercover mission with him definitely wasn’t your first choice, you’d rather do paperwork at this point.

“Huh?” You looked at Gibbs like he had just said a alien had landed down at the NCIS building asking for you. “You want me with Tony?”

“Yeah, did I say it in some other language? You and DiNozzo are going undercover, found a marine’s wife dead, along with her killers. Abby was able to access their computers and found out they were doing hit man work, and the director wants us to locate their boss. But since the two are dead now, we need some people to go undercover, you two,” He reminded you, reading the case the five of you were all taking on now.

“Oh, ho, ho!” Tony laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. “Looks like little Y/n finally gets a chance with the Tony master.”

“Tony master? Is that another cocky Tony name to make him feel better about himself?” Ziva wondered.

“It’s what my last babe called me, the master, so why not add Tony in front of it?” He smiled, getting smacked in the back of the head by Gibbs.

“You’ll be undercover, not as yourselves. So, refrain from the names DiNozzo.”

“Got it boss!” He exclaimed, shooting you a wink before you turned back to your computer.

“L/n, Elevator, now.” Gibbs commanded, and you quickly stood up to follow after him.

“Do you ever wonder who Gibbs is getting it with?” David asked, standing beside DiNozzo and McGee as they watched you and Gibbs enter the elevator.

“It’s ‘getting it on with’ and yes, I think we all do.” Tony corrected her. “But I doubt he is, because if he was, he might be happier.”

“Well, just because you go to school, it doesn’t make you smart. A perfect example is you, Tony,” David turned towards the man with a smile and pinched his cheek, Tony slapping the hand away.

“I actually get some, doubt Probie has ever had any.”

“Well, I actually-“

“If you have to say ‘actually’ while talking about sex it’s probably a lie. So, probie, just dream out your fantasies without getting them mixed up with real life,” DiNozzo smirked, smacking his back while moving to his own computer.

You were on the elevator, looking at your boss who clicked the ‘Emergency Stop’ button, causing the transportation to pause its route.

“Yeah, Gibbs?” You leaned onto the back of the elevator, a small smile playing out on your lips as you smiled at the man.

“I’m putting you on because I need someone convincing. So, put on your acting skills and make it work,” He mentioned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, yeah. I took drama for two years in high school just for this moment,” You joked. “You’re going to owe me a nice, creamed, coffee because of this.”

“And if I don’t? Right now, I’m your boss, I can’t be your boyfriend.”

“Good to know, boss.” You moved in front of him and unlocked the button. “I’ll keep that in mind for my acting, I just hope you don’t mind, boss,” The doors soon opened and you exited, walking into Abby’s area.

“Ah Gibbs! L/n! What do I owe this pleasure?” Abby greeted, taking a large sip of her drink.

“Are you running the prints on the gun found by the female hit man?” Gibbs asked as you took a seat on one of Abby’s chairs.

“Of course!” Abby hopped up and moved over to her machine, pointing to it, showcasing that it was running. “Working on it right now. But, I don’t think you’ll find much luck with it considering it was the same gun used to kill the commanders wife.”

“Well, we don’t know that for sure, so work on that. L/n,”

“But I want to chat with my dear friend before moving on,” You whined, while he shot you a stern look in return. “I’m going,” You quickly stood up, following the man out.

“I want you to go upstairs and get ready with DiNozzo,” He demanded and you just nodded.

“Right. On my way!” You yelled, running to the elevator. “I’m thrilled for this, but even more thrilled to finish this mission and go on a date,”

“Have fun with that.”

“I will! Hopefully Palmer will as well,” The elevator doors shut and Gibbs continued to make his way down to the Autopsy room to speak with Ducky. Now, not to thrilled at the mans assistant.

You arrived back upstairs, looking at the agent who had his feet on his desk and talking on the phone.

“Who is he chatting with? Gibbs wants us ready,” You commented, moving by Ziva and McGee who were watching him.

“Some girl, someone named Louis,” McGee answered.

“That sounds like a older woman’s name,” Ziva added.

“Yeah. Hey, McGee,” The man looked up from where he was watching DiNozzo and turned to face you. “Remember when you gave me food poisoning, and felt so bad you promised you give me a favor. Well, I want to turn that in now,” You smiled at him, writing down a note on a piece of paper and handing it to him.

“What are you up to?” Ziva asked as McGee left the two of you, heading to his own computer.

“Having some fun with a certain co worker who is going to ruin my night,” You got up from Ziva and moved over to DiNozzo. “Who are you chatting with?”

“A babe,” He mouthed, smiling as you could hear the little rambles on the phone.

“Gibbs wants you ready to go in twenty. And I know it takes you thirty to just do your hair, so, maybe you should cut the phone call.”

He put his hand to cover the speaker on the phone, taking his legs off the desk, and leaving in closer to you. “And you need forty to suck in that gut,”

You laughed, reaching over to grab the phone and putting it to you ear. “Tony! I got you your superhero costume, sweetie! We can now go and dress up together, but not in those tighty whities,” You voiced into the phone, slamming it down and looking at his stunned face. “Never comment on a woman’s weight, now, get ready for tonight because I’m not easy to please.”

The man mocked you for a moment and then left his desk, you turning to look back at Ziva.

“Impressive,” She complimented, walking by you and patting your shoulder.

“Thanks, I’m just starting,” You smiled at the girl, grabbing your gun and sticking your knife into the pocket inside your custom made boots.

You soon got yourself ready in a nice short, red dress that fit your body well enough that you were comfortable, and able to hide a knife around your thigh area.

“Ready yet Y/n?” DiNozzo knocked on the door, fixing his tie and suit.

“Wow Tony, you do know how to clean up,” Ziva commented, coming up behind him, in front of the restroom door, with McGee.

“Thank you, Ziva,”

“Well, besides the tag sticking out in the back. Are you really that cheap? I thought you took, uh, pride in your choice of clothing,”

“I don’t see the point on wearing something very expensive to a undercover date,” He told her back.

“You also missed a spot when shaving,” McGee pointed out, pointing to the far right side of Tony’s face.

“Shut it Probie. At least I didn’t need mommy to help me shave in highschool,”

“Abby told you about that?”

“Well, now she did,”

You opened the door and flattened your dress, then fixing a ring on your pointer finger and smiled at the three other special agents.

“Tony, didn’t you need your mom to help you do your laundry in highschool? Not one to speak,”

“You look well. Didn’t know you were even able to-” You whipped out your knife from underneath your dress and pointed it at the man. “You look stunning, great, nice.”

“Looks like you’re on a thin glacier, Tony,” Ziva laughed.

“I think it’s thin ice,” McGee corrected.

“Same thing!” Ziva threw her hands in the air. “Y/n, I didn’t know you had those moves,”

“Yeah, not a lot of people do. I like to hold some secrets with the team, and my past career is one of them,” You smiled.

“Let’s go,” Tony gripped your hand and intertwined it with his. “My love,” He gritted through his teeth.

“Not too convincing DiNozzo,” Gibbs walked over, smacking the back of his head. “You don’t treat a lady like that. Grip the hand like this,” He smoothly let his hand move its way to yours and he gently connected it with yours. “Even McGee knows this,” He smiled at you and let your hand go.

“I-I know how to do it, boss. Just- nevermind,” He grumbled, loosening his grip.

“I’m starving, care to escort me to the car, Armon?” You got yourself ready to take on your character, smiling at the man besides you with one as if you were really happy with the situation you were in.

“Anything for you, Belle,” The two of you made your way out of the building. Your fellow co-workers watched as the two of you walked away, yet, you were both still messing with each other and hitting while walking out.

“My last wife tend to do that,” Gibbs commented, soon making his way after you two to get into his own undercover van.

“Is that a normal thing for American couples?” Ziva asked McGee.

“Well, I’m not sure. But I have seen plenty of married couples do that, so they’ll fit right in,” He answered, the two then leaving as well.

Once arriving to the hotel, you waited for DiNozzo to open your door and grab your hand to lead you out of the car and into the new building. While clutching your purse and waiting behind a few other guests who were trying to get in, you turned to fix Tony’s glasses and clicked the ‘on’ button.

“Looking swell, honey,” You smiled at him as he placed a arm over your shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m thrilled we were able to get these reservations, dinner should be delicious tonight. You’ll be getting the salad, like normal, correct?” He looked down at you and you stepped on his foot as the line moved forward.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I always have the most trouble in heels like these, oh the line, hurry up now!” You voiced, walking into the hotel and following everyone else into the dining area.

“We should look for our names now,” He told you, sneaking up from behind as the two of you searched the tables for little cards with your last names on it. “Bingo! Right next to the Lezarres,”

“Oh and the Garndels are here as well. I’ve heard some things about them,” You added, letting Tony pull out a chair as you took a seat.

The both of you introduced yourself to the other couples and went through the night engaging in some small talk about politics and the food. You and DiNozzo had done a swell job at it and you retreated to the rest room at the end of dinner to hear any new news.

“So, what’s the update?” You asked into the little microphone hidden in your bracelet.

“There’s a hotel room in your name, bought out by your boss and, uh, boss wants you two to stay in there,” McGee told you into the ear piece which was located in your right ear.

“Great, more time with that stupid bastard. He couldn’t shut up about himself at dinner, like always, I’m really contemplating divorce,” You muttered, fixing your lipstick as another woman walked out, moving to wash her hands.

“I know just how you feel, best of luck,” She mentioned before walking out.

“Thanks,” You spoke back to her before turning your attention back to the mirror. “Do we think this boss of mine is going to go after the commander of that wife?”

“Yeah, Gibbs want you to stop him before he does. We have no clue who the boss is but he will be visiting the both of you tonight,”

“Got it,”

“Y/n!” Gibbs spoke now into the earpiece on the other end.

“Yeah?”

“If he got the hotel room, expect it to be bugged. So, you better act,”

“No worries. I’ve had to act in the bedroom before, and past boyfriends sure believed it,” You walked out of the bathroom and stood next to Tony. “Hun, my feet are killing me. I think it’s time we head to the hotel room and rest,” Tony nodded and stood up from his seat. The both of you said a goodbye to the couple and got your key from the front desk, soon getting into the elevator.

“So, a hotel room? Really want to sleep with me tonight, huh?” Tony laughed to himself as you positioned yourself in front of him and kissed his cheek, soon moving your lips closer to his ear.

“Room could be bugged, even the elevator, time to act,” You whispered, pulling back and placing a small kiss on his lips.

“Oh dear, if you really want me no need to ask,” He moved a arm around your waist, pulling you into his side a bit.

“The bags should already be in the room,” You smirked at him, and were soon at your level, the both of you getting off the elevator.

Once getting into your room you took off your heels and placed your bracelet on the table.

“I’m going to take a shower, care to join?” You commented, moving to the bathroom and starting the shower.

“It would be my pleasure,” He walked into the bathroom and started to unzip his pants.

“Babe, be patient,” You slapped his shoulder. “Turn around now, you know how self conscious I am,”

“That’s why I warned you not to eat that cake at dinner, my piece too,” He grumbled, turning around and lifting up his shirt as you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower.

“It was just so good! Being the loving, husband you are, I knew you wouldn’t mind,”

“Yeah, anything for you,” He stepped into the shower while your arms were trying to cover your breasts and vaginal area.

“Don’t look, just act,” You quietly scolded. “And try to cover your, uh,” You subtly moved a finger to point in the downwards direction and he quickly moved his hands there.

“Need another hand to help cover yours?” He joked, moving a little closer.

“I’ll kill you,” You mumbled. “Oh! Armon!” You moaned, Tony sending a sly smile and grunting. “You look like you’re enjoying this,”

“Might want to cover up that breast a little better,” He removed one hand to point at your left one.

“Damn it,” You did just that and reached for a towel which was on the toilet lid. “Ah, soap in the eye,” You voiced louder, just in case the man was listening and skeptical about it. You turned around from Tony and wrapped it around your chest area, then moving both hands to block your other.

“You really think they’re listening to us in here?”

“A good boss would. Especially if he is in this type of business.”

“I hate to know about some of your previous bosses,”

“Oh! Right there! Right there!” You yelled. “Yeah, you would. Most of them are dead though, so you won’t have to worry about that,”

“Old age, huh? What’s with old men being bosses anyways?”

“One was, but that’s not how he died. Man was a perve, had it coming,” You shrugged.

“You killed him?!”

“No, no. Not for that reason,” Tony’s mouth dropped. “Ah!” You yelled loudly, then making your breaths sound loud. “Gosh you are one messy man, good thing we did this in the water,” You smirked at DiNozzo who just mocked you.

“And you still are the easiest to ge-”

“I’m getting out now, you should too,” You removed the towel and let it drop to the floor of the shower, covering your breasts and looking for a robe, soon wrapping it around you.

While leaving the bathroom to grab your shirt and pants you heard the phone in the room start to ring and quickly rushed to it.

“Hello, Belle,” The man on the other line spoke into the phone. You could just imagine what he looked like, some rich guy with a cigar in his hand wanting some job done.

“Bonjour Monsieur,” You spoke, grateful that your mother had taught you french when you were young. “C’est qui je pense?”

(Hello, sir. Is this who I think it is?)

“Oui. Retrouvez-moi dans le salon. À neuf heures,”

(Yes. Meet me down in the lounge area. At nine o’clock.)

“D’accord. Au revoir,”

(Okay. Goodbye)

You placed the phone down, and grabbed your clothes, quickly changing into them as Tony emerged from the bathroom with his wet hair clinging to his forehead and a new, comfortable outfit on.

“Who was that, dear?” He asked, sneaking over by you.

“Un ami,” You smiled at him, tapping his nose.

“Uh, yeah,” He nodded, clearly not understanding and you just tried to stifle a laugh. “You know, grandpa, uh, Gibbs, he wants us to figure out when we should have dinner with him,”

“Ah. How about we go over for a breakfast at nine. He just got his living room refinished not too long ago, correct?”

“Sounds good. And never call me a grandpa again, DiNozzo,” Gibbs spoke into both of your earpieces.

“It’s almost nine already. I should go and ask for a extra pillow, sweetie. Get the bed ready for us, can you?” You grabbed your hotel key and put on your special boots. “No need to dress so fancy for getting something so simple,”

“DiNozzo, go with her,” Gibbs commanded. “David and McGee are heading to the lounge area now,”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” DiNozzo asked you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little pillow, nothing too much,” You kissed his cheek and quickly left the room. While walking down the hallway to the elevator, you took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t being followed.

Once waiting for the elevator, you fixed your boots a bit and entered when the doors opened. There was no one inside, so you pressed the ‘1st level’ button. When getting near the ‘2nd level’ the elevator stopped, indicating someone was going to get on.

It was a staff member in their normal uniform. He smiled at you with blankets in his hand and entered.

“Puis-je vous aider avec quoi que ce soit, mademoiselle?” He questioned, pulling out a gun from his side and opened the elevator door once again for two new men to appear.

(Can I help you with anything, miss?)

“Oui. En me alissa the vivre,” You told him, one of the man entering the elevator and pulling you out, the man in the staff uniform having his gun pointed at you.

(Yes. By letting me live.)

“Tsk. Ne peut faire. Vous souvenez-vous de moi?”

(No can do. Do you remember me?)

“Vous n’avez pas l’air familier,” You spoke, getting dragged down the hallway as someone reached into your ear and broke the earpiece.

(You don’t look familiar.)

“Enough of this french,” The man who was dragging you sneered. “I want to hear this bitch speak,”

“Fine,” The one in the staff uniform sighed. “I don’t think you’re the person we’re looking for. It’s a shame you think we were that stupid to not know what our employees look like,”

“You’re just so intelligent,” You commented, getting kicked in the back of the leg.

“I was speaking. You really played it off, the whole sex thing. But it’s a shame you won’t have anymore time with him, he won’t get his little pillow. At least I won’t have to worry about the real couple anymore, they knew too much and I couldn’t let that get out. All I have to do is deal with you,”

“That will be harder than you think,” You told him, the grip on your arm tightening.

“I’m always a fan of having some fun,”

“They’re going to find the bullet your men used to kill the couple. You knew we were here since the beginning,”

“Correct,” One of the men opened the door and you were led in. “With you posing as the couple, you were able to gain a connection with the couples you were seated with. That way, we could then swoop in and learn more about them, giving us the opportunity to hack into their phone and get the passwords needed,”

“You’re stupid to tell me this. I could’ve figured it out on my own, my team probably already has,” One man then put you in a chair and started to tie you up, the one in the staff uniform kicking you in the gut so you fell backwards.

“Lift her up again. I want to have my fun before she must go, I hope you don’t mind the heat,” The second man lifted your chair up and a few more punches were landed on your body.

“Tu es une racaille,” You mumbled, trying to move your arm in the tight ropes.

(You’re scum.)

“Let’s go,” The head man told the other two. One of them grabbed a gas can nearby and started to pour it on the bedsheets. The head man grabbed a match from his pocket and lit it, throwing it on the bed for the flames to begin. “Au revoir,”

They left the room and you struggled to try and move one arm.

Meanwhile DiNozzo was in the elevator with his gun in pocket, going down to the lounge area.

“Y/n can’t hear us anymore,” DiNozzo voiced into his microphone. “Did she make it to the lounge?”

“No. Damn it DiNozzo, I told you to stay with her,” Gibbs spoke, looking at DiNozzo once the elevator door opened. “David, Mcgee, take the back entrance me and DiNozzo will take the front and head up,” He demanded.

Everyone split up. Ziva and McGee ran to the back to catch two men rushing out. They quickly aimed their guns at them and announced their presence, only to receive some shots at them.

Ziva was able to shoot down on of the men and the other surrendered, McGee cuffing the one and letting a police who arrived take care of them.

“We didn’t call for backup,” McGee muttered to Ziva.

“Yeah, uh, someone called into 911 about a fire,” The police pointed to a window on the hotel building. “People should be evacuating the building now, firefighters are on their way,”

McGee’s mouth dropped as he stared at Ziva.

“How odd it happened tonight,” Ziva mumbled.

“It’s obviously intentional!” McGee exclaimed.

“I know that. I hope those guys don’t die,”

DiNozzo and Gibbs started to rush up the stairs, they could feel a bit of the heat from the room and were able to catch the man in the staff uniform in the stairway.

“Sir, are you alright?” DiNozzo stopped, grabbing onto his shoulders softly. “NCIS,”

“I’m fine, just startled, I need to get out of here,” He waved his hands and tried to slip away from DiNozzo’s grip.

“DiNozzo, that’s him,” Gibbs quickly told the agent who soon put the mans hands behind his back. “Where’s our agent?”

“She won’t make it, a fire like that, no one would,” He smiled and DiNozzo led him down the stairs.

Gibbs continued to rush up them, into the hallway that was catching more and more on fire.

“L/n! L/n!” He yelled, looking around to try and find your figure.

He saw you emerge into the hallway, bloodied and bruised, some of your shirt on fire, and a knife in your hand. He rushed to your side, letting you lean on him.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” He asked and you shook your head a little, letting him fully help you down the stairs and out of the building.

He guided you to the ambulance who tended to most of your wounds, but you refused to be transferred to a hospital.

“You need to go,” McGee tried to convince you, standing by your side.

“It would probably be for the best,” David chimed in.

“Hopefully, they can fix your hair too,” Tony laughed, looking you up and down.

“Damn you, DiNozzo,” You stood and smacked the back of his head, while he just laughed.

“Go home you three, I’ll make sure Y/n gets home alright,” Gibbs came over, waving the three agents off who spared a small goodbye or hand wave. “You ready to go, idiot.”

“I almost died, and you’re calling me a idiot,” You chuckled a little. “Help me to your car?” You asked and he let you lean on him once again.

Once the both of you were in the car it was a very quiet ride. You didn’t talk to each other, just letting silence from the long day overtake each other. He truly was nervous for your safety, thought the two of you hadn’t been dating long he felt a lot of compassion regarding you and wanted to continue your relationship smoothly. 

“I really was worried. I told you not to go alone, you should’ve let DiNozzo go with you,” He finally spoke, once you were both in his driveway, sitting in the car, in the dark.

“I’m alive. Just got kicked around a bit, I’m super grateful I always carry that knife in my boot,” You softly told him. “Don’t worry about me too much, I may be younger than you, but I have experience.”

“I know that, just don’t be so stupid last time and take the help.”

“Fine,” Gibbs got out of his seat and moved around to your door, grabbing your hand and helping you out of the car. He smiled at the factor of how easily you trusted him to care for you. “I didn’t doubt you would get me for a minute.”

“Good, you should know that.”

“Only because you still owe me a date, and I did say I would let you pick this one out,” You looked up at him with a goofy grin. It amazed him that even with being beaten up a bit, and almost dying in a fire, you could make jokes with him. 

“I say we have the little date here,” He leaned down a bit to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, smirking into it a little bit, and then moving the way you were leaning on him so he would be able to pick you up. 

“Someone’s excited.”

“Let’s watch a nice movie on the couch. I bought some creamer, so, I can make that creamed coffee you wanted because now I’m your boyfriend but still pissed you made a stupid and life threatening decision in there,”

“Good enough. Palmer will have to wait. Poor kid,” You commented as Gibbs lead you to the couch and helped you rest on it, soon moving to his kitchen to start brewing a pot of coffee. 

“That idiot will be fine.”

“Yeah, luckily for him, though I won’t be able to atend, I do have a friend that will,” You smiled to yourself, imagining how that would be going right now. 

While you lied on the couch with your boyfriend who was, secretly, doting on you, giving you his undivided attention. DiNozzo was at a bar, chatting with someone while looking around for them. 

“She said she would be at this booth,” DiNozzo whispered to himself, wallking to the booth in the corner for where they shall meet. “God, she looked so good in her profile picture, I’m so- Palmer?!”

“Tony?” He looked up from his seat. “You’re Y/n’s friend? I guess I didn’t specify the gender, and she didn’t say a specific name.”

“Y/n? She’s not that good at compute- Damn, probie.” 

[harrywritingsbyme]

Heyy! Can you do one where Harry loves to have his mark on y/n by cumming on her and he has a public hair kink. He loves the dense Matt if her pubic hair so to mark her he always cums on her hair and everything they lazily lounge around he loves to just slip his hand inside her shorts and play with her hair pubic hair.... something like that pleasee

Hair

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I have no idea why, but I just love this concept so much. It’s a strong combo of smut and fluff…but mostly smut. And I’m adding this to ‘A Series of Firsts’! Mainly because being accepted in this way may in fact be a first time for a lot of people, and this does involve ‘Y/n’ after all. Also, I’m sorry for slacking off on this series…my writing “go to’s”, schedule, and motivation have shifted drastically so I’ve been neglecting this baby for a lil bit…but now she’s back and better than ever. Enjoy 🙃

You could honestly say that when it came to being “hair down there” positive, Harry hands down took the top spot. At first you couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that, you were lucky enough to have a partner who could care less about whether or not you had a bit of a bush down there. In the past, you’ve been shamed for not taking care of this “ultra-sacred” ritual that was shaving, and you were made to feel like you were in the wrong for not caring much about it. Along with being made to feel ashamed of your pubic hair, you were also neglected. After a couple times of being turned away because you weren’t clean shaven down there, you just learned to get by on your own. And to be completely honest, pleasuring yourself wasn’t bad at all. But even though this was the case, you still felt a little down at times when you thought about how you were deemed untouchable if you had a bush of the sorts.

Now it’s not like you were completely against shaving and you’ve decided to write it out of your life completely. That’s not the case at all. It’s just that since shaving had been proven to be a bit of a task for you, you tended to put it off until you finally mustered up enough motivation (and energy…you heard it right, a lot of energy was needed for this) to drag yourself into the bathroom and meticulously shave down there. And even when you did eventually carve out the time to take care of some bush maintenance, you would often decide to leave a bit on and just make things a bit neat. Eventually enough though you were able to get into some sort of shaving regimen and it lasted a pretty good while. 

Fast forward to your relationship with Harry and you were still keeping it going. This was mostly due to the fact that you and Harry were having round the clock sex. And it was some really good sex. There wasn’t a time where he wasn’t touching or inside of you. Now while you and Harry were beyond happy together, you still had a bit of your guard still up. Even though he’d proven himself to be one of the sweetest and most amazing human beings on the planet, you were still a bit nervous. You worried yourself over the idea that if you were let yourself go down there for even a second, you were going to be deemed untouchable by Harry. And that’s the last thing you wanted. You were the happiest you’d ever been when in a relationship and you were afraid losing that. So you kept up with your shaving regimen and you made sure to keep it nice and hairless down there. 

Now you kept up with a solid routine for shaving, and it lasted a pretty good while. But a pretty good while does not mean forever. One week when it was time for your routine “maintenance”, you were completely out of it. You were not feeling it at all and your routine fell by the wayside. You would say that you would do it the next time you took a shower and you’d keep on saying it up until a week and a half went by. And in that time, Harry noticed some shifts in how you normally were. For starters, you started wearing pants to bed. You never wore pants to bed. The only bottoms you’d have on your body would be a pair of panties, but out of the blue you were wearing your pajama bottoms as well. Another thing he noticed was the fact that you weren’t letting him touch you down there or even push his hand into your panties just because the way you used to. Normally you’d be fine with him touching you or resting his hand down there. In fact, you’d sometimes pull his hand down there yourself. But now you were putting a halt to that. The third and final thing that was a bit of a flag raiser to Harry was that you weren’t letting him shower with you. Normally you’d keep the door open if you didn’t mind him coming in or you’d even pull him into the bathroom with you. But instead, you were closing the door behind you and when Harry would try to come in, you’d close the door and tell him that you wanted to take this one by yourself. Harry was all for giving you your space and respecting your wishes, but he began to wonder if it was something that he had done. The last thing he ever wanted was to make you uncomfortable and cause you to distance yourself from him. He just wanted to love on you again and be close to his girl. That’s all. And after about a week and a half of you acting out of the ordinary, Harry decided that it was time to break the ice and figure out what was going on. 

He’d finished up taking care of some laundry that had to be done and all he wanted to do was relax with (and hopefully inside) you. Once he comes back into the bedroom, his eyes go straight to you. You were lying on the bed scrolling through your phone with one of his t-shirts on and a pair of sweats. Under normal circumstances you’d simply have his shirt on and a pair of panties. Harry makes his way over to the bed, crawls right across it, and right on top of you. When he does this, your attention is immediately diverted from your phone to him and you toss it beside you to focus on him. Instead of wasting any time, Harry goes straight in and pushes his lips down onto yours. Your arms then go around his neck to pull him down closer to you, and before you know it the two of you are locked into a make-out session that was getting to be a bit heated. As the kisses continue you feel Harry’s hand begin to wander a bit, he starts off by going down and under your shirt. At first you don’t pay it any mind. But after a couple squeezes to your breasts and to your waist, Harry’s hand migrate a it lower. It makes it’s way all the way down to the waistband of your sweats to which you quickly stop. Upon you stopping him in his tracks, Harry stops his movements against you all together and pulls himself up a bit. He then proceeds to sit back on your thighs, still keeping himself on top of you. 

“Harry you’re gonna crush me.” You whine, trying to push him off of you.

“Are you calling me fat?! Is my girlfriend seriously calling me fat?!” Harry shouts dramatically. 

“No…I’m saying that if a much heavy person sits on top of someone, then it is likely that the other person will be crushed.” You reason smartly. 

“Well if you don’t want to be crushed, you’re gonna have t’tell me what’s going on.” Harry bargains, crossing his arms over his chest and sending you a pointed look.

“Nothing’s going on, what are you talking about?” 

“You won’t let me touch you, you’re constantly wearing pants, and you’re not letting me save water with you.” He explains with a small pout. Once he says this, you immediately see what he’s getting at. When he sees you break the eye contact and falter a little bit, Harry decides to take a step back and be a bit more gentle with this one. He picks himself up from your thighs and shifts over onto the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbow to keep his attention on you. “You can talk t’me about anything baby, m’always her to listen.” Harry reminds gently, bringing his free hand over to grab your hand.

“I know, and I love you for that. It’s just that- I haven’t shaved.” You rush out. Even though you weren’t in the most comfortable position, it was nice to finally say it. 

“That’s it?!” Harry asks, completely shocked.

“Mhm.” You quietly mumble, turning your head towards him to see his reaction.

“Babyyy!” Harry coos, swinging his leg onto the other side of you and falling back on top of your body. “That’s why you’ve been hidin’ from me?” Harry asks, looking down towards your slightly downcast face.

“I thought you’d be turned off by it.” You explain. “In the past, I was untouchable if I had hair down there.”

“M’so sorry baby. And you’re far from being untouchable! I could care less whether or not you have hair down there. All I want is you.” Harry affirms. “And if you like my bit of hair, then I love yours. I actually prefer it.” Harry continues, his voice coming to a whisper at the last part.

“For real!?” You ask, completely shocked at his response. 

“Yeah, but if you still want to shave I’m 1000% fine with that. I just want you to know that I love you. And since I love you, I love all of you, hair and all.” Harry reassures once more before leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “So does this mean I can touch you again, because I’ve been deprived of you for a whole week.” He needed you bad, it was a really long week.

“Yes Harry, my pussy is no longer in quarantine.” You huff amusedly at his question. He is such a boy. Well…a very mature boy. 

“Also, where are we at? Is it like a light layer, or full on 70’s pornstar?” Harry wonders. “I’m fine with either one…m’just wondering.” Harry quickly clarifies.  

“Why don’t you just investigate!” You give in dramatically, completely worn out by his interrogation.

“I will.” Harry replies excitedly, quickly moving himself from on top of you to between your legs to conduct his little investigation. And let’s just say that he was in love with his findings. 

From the moment Harry ripped off your sweats, he felt like he was in heaven. Not only because he was between your legs again, but also because he could see a couple curly little hairs poking out from beneath the lower bands of your panties. And once they came off, Harry thought he was going to faint. In that moment Harry was fully coming to terms with his pubic hair kink, and you hadn’t even achieved a full bush yet. You were absolutely stunning down there, hair or not, but Harry was completely loving the hair and he was really hoping that you wouldn’t shave it all off. That’s why from that point on, he made sure to give you everything he had so that you could be confident in his feelings. He wanted you to let yourself go and just enjoy the pleasure he had in store for you and not worry about whether or not your pubic hair is a turn on, because it definitely was. Harry loved everything about it

For starters, you were even wetter than usual. Normally you’d be sopping wet and your folds would be glistening and all sticky with your sweet arousal. Ever since you went back to just letting it grow and tidying it up a little, you managed to be even wetter. When your arousal formed, it would seep out of your hole and your hairs would collect it all. This meant that when Harry got between your legs, the cute little damp spot that would form in your panties was bigger, and it meant that your arousal covered all of you. Before he even touches your hole, he’d lick up all of your arousal. He’d lick and suck all of you until there was no more of your sticky and delicious arousal on those hairs. He would then pull your pussy apart and just lick into you like normal, except while he fucked you with his tongue, he’d tug on those curly hairs that clung to your pussy lips creating a little tension and only intensified the feeling of his tongue moving against you. While he was down there, Harry also loved pushing the hair back a bit to suck on your clit. He just loved how the hair would cover your little button, and he loved how it would peak through a bit if you were really on need of him.

The next thing that completely sucked Harry in was the way the hair felt against his cock. It was amazing to say the least. Before pushing into you, he’d always drag the head of his cock up and down your folds. Everything about it was incredible, even when he kind of humped you a little, pushing his cock up and down against you. And whenever he got all the way down to his balls, he’d make sure to circle around a little bit because he loved the way your hair felt against his sensitive balls. And then once he finally pushes inside, Harry really goes crazy. Not only is he pushing into your delicious cunt, he can also feel your hairs brushing against his shaft as he sinks into you. And as he fucks into you, it’s as heavenly, if not more heavenly than before. You’re still sopping wet and falling apart over his cock and you’re still tighter than he could wrap his head around. While he’s pounding you over and over again, along with his other tricks, Harry likes to just run a hand over your hairs. While pinching the upper flesh of your pussy, Harry likes to just play and pull at the hairs a little. As he does this, he also brings his hand lower and he lightly pulls at the hairs that are on either side of your spread pussy. Those are the super sensitive ones. Once it’s time for him to let go Harry always faces a problem. He can’t decide on where he wants to cum. He can’t get enough of flooding your tummy with his cum, but he also loves pulling out and cumming in your hair. Marking you was always a must for him. So after cumming a bit inside of you, which is a lot since Harry’s cock is like a volcano and just can’t stop spurting out his cum, he pulls out of you and pouts the rest out onto your hair. He liked seeing the hairs stick together with his cum and he loved seeing you stained with him. 

One final thing (of the many things) Harry loved about your pubic hair was that he got to play with it. Normally he’d slip his hand into your panties and just hold your pussy so to speak. He’d just cup you or squeeze your pussy lips or even tickle you a bit. Now that you let your hair grow, he got to play with your pussy and the hair. He got to push the tips of his fingers around and tug at your hair. He couldn’t get enough of just playing with you whenever the two of you were lounging around or something. He even caught you playing with your hair a couple times. And when he did, he would get all pouty and push your hand away so that he could play with it. He especially loved playing with your hair when he just came all over you. He loves to smear his cum all over you. He would even stick a finger inside your cum filled hole and smear the creamy substance on his finger all over you to mark your hair even more.

To put it simply, the both of you were in love with this newly discovered kink and it was really nice. It was very freeing too. 

Masterlist

[jenn-i-guess]

Pictured Confessions//Kiribaku

Imagine Class 1-A bringing in old childhood photo albums and middle school yearbooks, all except for Kiri who was too embarrassed to bring anything like that.

That doesn’t stop Mina from bringing her own middle school yearbook, and guess what?

Besides finding a-kind of the same looking-picture of younger Mina, they find an INTERESTING picture of middle school Kirishima...

Black straightened hair, dark grey eyeshadow, and tons of (seemingly fake) piercings, jutting out of his lip and nose, even one on his eyebrow, with one shaved line at the crease.

But the cherry on top was the very obvious Hot Topic shirt with what seemed to be a cover of some heavy metal band.

Silence fills the room, heat radiating off of the very embarrassed Kirishima, pressing his face into his palms.

If he was a cartoon, steam would definitely be shooting from his ears.

“Dude...” Sero began.

“You were such an emo!” Kaminari finished with a snort, eyes watering.

Groaning into his hands once more, he began to wonder how he could possibly die at this moment.

Maybe if the floor could just swallow him whole, it would be doing him a big favor right about now.

“W-Well!” He started, reaching out and grabbing Mina’s yearbook.

“Two can play at that game! Did you know-“ Kiri paused, for dramatic affect, flipping many of the laminated pages before he found what he was looking for, “That Mina used to be in the drama club?!”

Mina shrieked as their friends began crowding around the book again, looking at a very embarrassing picture.

Hopefully much more embarrassing than his that it would be long forgotten.

It was a large picture, in which Mina was wearing a huge white wig and a judge’s dress while holding her arms up in the air.

The picture captured her face when she was pursing her lips, her eyes widening comically.

“No! Don’t look!” Mina screamed, jutting her arms out before grabbing the book, slamming it shut and holding it against her chest, a wild look on her face.

“Nice wig, Mina.” Kaminari wheezed, his face scrunching up like he just tasted a lemon, trying to hold back more laughter.

“Oh you’re one to talk. Where’s your yearbook?” She smirked, pleased with herself when Kaminari blanched and shut up quite completely.

Everyone began to gather around Kaminari, poking him to show his memorabilia.

Kirishima sighed, choosing this moment to step out.

Looking around the room, he noticed there was one less person than before.

A certain blonde, whom he had really hoped had not seen the embarrassing photo of him but it would’ve been hard not to, what with Mina holding it up for all the class to see.

He scanned the room and saw Bakugou walking back towards the elevator, jamming his finger on the button with so much more anger than necessary.

Curious, Kirishima walked fast over to him, ignoring the quick chattering of his friends.

Just as the elevator was about to close, Kirishima jutted his foot between the two sliding doors, stopping them momentarily.

“Hey! Wait up Bakubro!” He slid in, feeling the blonde’s crimson eyes boring holes into the back of his head.

“The hell are you doing, shitty-hair?” Bakugou sneered, watching as the redhead pressed the button to their floor, smiling when it made a soft chiming noise.

“Eh, I’m bored. I’m just gonna work out in my room and then probably hit the hay.” Kirishima shrugged.

Bakugou nodded, shoving his fists into his grey sweatpants pockets, leaning against the elevator wall.

The redhead stared a little more at his friend, lingering on his face.

He had never seen the blonde so...emotionless.

His pale face smooth and relaxed, no wrinkles or furrowed eyebrows from his usual spouts of anger.

In fact he looked...pretty. Not just his face, but the light blonde tufts of hair styled in spikes surrounding it.

Well...Kiri also thought he looked hot as well.

What?! You can’t really blame him!

Not when Bakugou wore those black tank tops, showing off hints of his pectorals, doing nothing to stop him from looking at the muscles bulging on his arms.

It was especially excruciatingly painful to watch whenever they trained together.

Watching beads of sweat fall down beyond the collar of his top, making Kirishima wonder what was beyond that line of clothing.

Wondering how it would feel if he touched that expanse of skin.

A loud chime spooked him out of his very homoerotic thoughts, a faint dust of red filling the apples of his cheeks as he realized he had still been staring at Bakugou’s meaty biceps.

He grimaced, hoping Bakugou didn’t see him staring, but he didn’t get a chance to, as Bakugou was already walking out of the elevator.

Kirishima inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he followed Bakugou to their neighboring dorms.

The blonde stopped in front of his door, turning to stare at Kirishima.

The redhead gulped, nervously watching as Bakugou looked him up and down, seeming like he was expecting Kiri to say something.

“Well, goodnight Bakugou!” He smiled at him, going to open his door when suddenly a much lighter hand slammed it shut once more.

“Hold on.” Bakugou demanded, his gruff voice bouncing against the empty hallway.

Kirishima paused, his lips shut tight as he waited for Bakugou to say more.

“Um...yes?” He smiled meekly, his lips not exactly curving upwards.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, his cheeks flushing red as he stammered, “Y-You! You still need help with tutoring tonight, right?!” He yelled out the last bit.

Ah! Tonight is Friday! Their tutoring night!

With all of the excitement of yearbooks and family pictures he must’ve forgotten completely!

Ugh, so unmanly to keep Bakugou waiting, to make him ask like this.

“Oh! Yes yes, right! Of course, my bad Bakugou.” Kiri nodded his head, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, beginning to turn red with embarrassment.

Bakugou relaxed his shoulders, the smallest of grins beginning to show on his face.

“Whatever, ‘s not like I expected you to remember anything with that pea-sized brain of yours.” He mocked, turning around to open his door.

“Hey! My brain is normal sized, just like yours!” Kirishima retaliated, stomping after Bakugou.

The door clicked shut behind them, entrapping Kirishima inside of the cool shadowy room that was Bakugou’s.

Besides being cooler temperature wise, the room was also very...boring.

It surprised him every time Kirishima walked into Bakugou’s room, just the overall average ness.

Bland grey walls with nothing decorating them, not even so much as a poster of his favorite hero.

And to go along with the insane asylum decor, black bedsheets and a white pillowcase, neatly put together as if he never touched the bed at all.

Kirishima smiled to himself, feeling comfortable in the others room, a sense of familiarity.

The blonde groaned before flipping down on his bed, back-first.

“So, what is it that you need help with?” He spoke, his usually rough voice toning down a bit.

Kiri started to speak, but paused as he took a breath.

Actually, he didn’t really have anything to work on.

Final exams were over, there were no surprise tests sprung out by Aizawa.

Truly, there was no reason he should even be in this room at all.

So why did he want to stay?

Stuttering out his last breath, he crouched onto the floor, shuffling into a criss-crossed position.

“Well, actually-“ He chuckled nervously, watching as Bakugou leaned upwards, resting on his elbows while staring at him incredulously.

“Ha, I guess I don’t really have anything to do. I don’t really need to study for anything.”

“So then, why’d you come in here?” Bakugou grunted, sitting up all the way and leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Honestly?” Kiri shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so exhausted from today. Just having to deal with everyone yelling and having to show people photos, especially mine!” He groaned.

But some part of him did wonder if Bakugou knew what he was talking about.

But oh bOy was he not at all prepared for the answer to that question!

“Oh, you mean that hot picture of you?”

Kirishima wheezed, his lungs squeezing together as all the air escaped his body.

He coughed-super attractively-while trying to think of anything to say.

It didn’t help that Bakugou just kept staring at him, his eyebrows raised and a subtle smirk keeping his lips quirked up.

“Ahem, what?” Kiri’s heart hammered against his chest, his fingers feeling oddly clammy clasped together.

“I said-“ Bakugou shuffled himself onto the floor, leaning closer into Kirishima’s space.

So close that Kiri could smell the spicy scent of the blonde’s body wash, almost intoxicating to him.

“I thought that picture of you was hot.” He rumbled, one of his eyebrows quirking upwards in such a way that Kiri could actually feel his heart stopping and starting at the same time.

“Ah, um cool.” He sputtered before his brain caught up to his idiotic mouth.

Cool?!

Kill him. Right here right now. He is a waste of a human body.

But a light airy sound broke him out of his embarrassing trance, a laugh.

Bakugou was chuckling at him. And in a really cute way!

Kirishima could rarely ever get Bakugou to laugh, most of the time he was the one being laughed at.

Just like now but...it was different. The way he was laughing, the smile stretching his lips.

There were indents marking at the corner of his eyes as he laughed, small divots of skin.

“Dumbass.” Bakugou chortled, biting his lips to reel in another fit of laughter.

Oh. Wow.

Kiri was definetly sure he was blushing now, half of it being because of embarrassment but the other half...

Adoration.

Damn, Eijirou was really swimming in the deep end wasn’t he?

“Sh-Shut up! You can’t just-just say something like that and expect a good answer out of me!” Kirishima whined, balling up his hands in frustrations.

“What is your answer?” Bakugou asked, nonchalantly.

Kiri paused once more, “My what?”

“You said,” Bakugou smirked, “That I cant expect a good answer. How about just a regular one?”

“A...regular one?”

Oh boy. Was this really happening? Oh god oh fuck-

Bakugou hummed, his face going slack as he waited for an answer.

“Well, I guess it’s okay that you found me hot, then.”

But the real question still lingered on his lips, like a bad aftertaste.

“And it’s fine if you...don’t find me attractive now.” He murmured the last part, a part of him hoping Bakugou didn’t catch what he said.

Kiri glanced back up when he heard a harsh scoff come from Bakugou’s mouth.

“Tch, never said that.” He muttered, his face growing steadily pink.

“You-“

Kiri blanked.

His outer body seemed to get clammy and sweaty but his insides, it felt as if he was being burned.

His heart hammered painfully, and he found it even harder to breathe.

“What...Bakugou what do you mean by that?” Kirishima asked, his voice quivering on the last word, staring straight at Bakugou’s crimson eyes.

The blonde shifted, growing more embarrassed by the second. He wiped his calloused hands against his mouth and bit his lip.

“Bakugou-“

Kirishima reached out and grabbed Bakugou’s hand, feeling the sweat mixing in with his own.

He wanted to feel it.

If this moment really was happening he wanted to feel how it felt.

Eijirou swallowed down his building saliva, using his thumb to rub gentle circles onto the blonde’s soft skin.

“I-I like you too. If this means what I think it means, I like you too.” He couldn’t help but let the nervous smile contort his lips, the tips of his sharp teeth sticking out, like white gleams in the darkness of Bakugou’s room.

The blonde’s head snapped back to stare at Kirishima, his eyes widening in what seemed to be disbelief, then softening.

Bakugou snorted, twisting his hand away, almost causing Kirishima’s heart to break into pieces.

That is until those lovely hands came up to rest lightly on his face, palms squishing his cheeks lightly.

And god the sudden warmness of those palms made his heart stutter.

And it gave him a thrill as well.

Knowing that in a matter of seconds these hands could explode and destroy everything that they touched.

Yet, they touched him so softly, his thumbs barely grazing any skin.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I do this.” Bakugou breathed out, his face inching closer and closer, his breath mingling with Kirishima’s.

Getting ever so close until eventually...

Kirishima closed his eyes in bliss, his own soft lips sliding against Bakugou’s rougher chapped ones.

He sighed through his nose, his own hands coming up to rest on Bakugou’s shoulders.

Wow, it felt so nice.

So right.

Like this was exactly the place his lips belonged.

Right on top of Bakugou’s.

He gasped for air as the blonde’s tongue warily poked between his lips, sliding in when Kirishima allowed.

“Woah okay!” Kirishima pulled away, chuckling as his face burned with excitement.

Bakugou smirked, poking his tongue out to swipe across his bottom lip. “Too much?” He teased.

Kirishima groaned loudly, falling on top of Bakugou’s knees to hide his enflamed face.

“Dude, you suck so much right now.” His voice was muffled against the blonde’s knees.

“Mm, too bad. You’re gonna have to live with it.”

Bakugou’s voice rumbled, the vibrations tickling Kiri’s cheeks.

Kirishima jolted up, a large toothy smile on his face.

“You mean...is this you trying to ask me out?” Kirishima whispered, leaning closer his cheeks starting to hurt from how wide his smile was.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, holding his hands up.

Kirishima yelled as Bakugou used one of his fingers to flick him painfully at the tip of his nose.

“Ow!” He looked to the blonde for answers, rubbing his abused nose.

“The fuck do you mean? Was me kissing you not enough dipshit?!” Bakugou sneered, his furrowed eyebrows making him look like a grumpy cat.

Kirishima chuckled, smiling as he leaned forward.

“No no, it was.” He used his hand to squish Bakugou’s cheeks together, placing a gentle kiss on his puckered lips.

Bakugou relaxed, humming against his lips. “Good.” He murmured.

“Good.” Kirishima leaned back, his eyes widening when he saw the smile on Bakugou’s face.

A smile, though not large, but wide enough to show his gleaming teeth.

He leaned in again to see if that smile tasted just as good as it looked.

It did.

[dinpascal]

No Good Deed — Din Djarin

No Good Deed — Chapter One

➥ There’s an unconscious Mandalorian outside your door, along with some tiny, green thing clutching at his cloak. There has to be some sort of manual that tells you what to do in this situation... Right? 

There were many things to hate about Nevarro. The miles and miles of just-barely crusted over magma, the Rebels that tended to brush through every now and again, acting all high and mighty and as if they were too good to set foot on such a planet. However, without a single doubt, the thing you hated the most was the damn Guild.

You had never been the type of person to judge another for their method of survival. You had done many... unsatisfactory things in your lifetime, just to see another day. A few of those still kept you awake at night, debating whether you were deserving of what you had, no matter how miniscule. The Guild, however, was an entirely different thing.

Perhaps it was the mere fact that at least seventy percent of the people you served were hunters from the Guild. And if not already in the Guild, aiming for opportunity to be. They were a cocksure group, always carrying themselves with an aura of arrogance and as if they were allowing you the privilege of surviving. As if your little, insignificant life was balanced between their fingers, because they were all so skilled in the art of bounty hunting.

A lot of mudscuffers, in your opinion.

You wiped your palms down your apron, which did little about the stickiness that was present from hours of drink-making. The hairs were no-doubt spilling from your braid, hardly remembering to breathe in-between each order and the chaos that surrounded you. Creatures of all kind called out to you in many  different languages, some you understood and others you required your “partner” to translate. The droid was good for nothing apart from that, perhaps apart from being perpetually in your way. It reached the point where you no longer felt guilty for bumping it out of your way. 

Today, evidently, was Greef Karga’s awaited return from some mission, leading to the assembly of many (impatiently) awaiting their next bounty. In other words, the bar was way past its capacity limit. Many patrons were shoulder-to-shoulder, filling the building with endless, buzzing chatter that made the ache that much more present at your brow.

“C’mon, I’ve been trying for months. Why don’t you let me take you out? Just one night?” You eyed your suitor as you collected empty glasses and bottles, eyeing him with a thoroughly practiced smile that gave him the impression you enjoyed his company. It was something you were forced to learn early in this occupation, if you were even remotely interested in tips. Customers, males especially, enjoyed feeling wanted. As if they had any semblance of a chance with the “pretty thing” that served them drinks behind the counter.

“Cardon, you know I don’t date bounty hunters.” You replied, taking a moment to take another order and busying yourself with making it. Luckily, very few (if any) frequenters drank anything complicated, often preferring spotchka and even simple shots of hooch.

The dark-skinned hunter smiled, moving to brush his hair back with a gloved hand. “And why not? Don’t think you could handle one?” If you had to decide, Cardon wasn’t the worst of the bunch you could choose from. He had ebony hair that touched the top his shoulders, the top half often twisted into a bun. He was tall enough, but quite lanky compared to many of the other hunters that frequented the cantina. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. If you had to guess, the majority of the hunters you served only had one head. Instead of commenting further, you motioned towards his glass. “Want another, Cardon?” He waved a hand in silent agreement, seemingly coming to terms that he was, yet again, striking out with you. 

“I think I’m your relief for the night.” You turned, positively beaming at the sight of olive skin and black eyes. “Alejad... My savior.” He grinned wickedly and threw a rag over his shoulder, lightly tsking at the mess you’d made of the bar. 

“So very messy. Have I not taught you a thing?” 

With a roll of your eyes and slight scoff, you began fingering the knot of your apron. “We’ll see how lucky you end up tonight. Karga isn’t even supposed to be showing up until second sundown.” You brushed your hand over his shaved head as you passed behind him, an act of affection you’d picked up in the time you’d worked together. Alejad had been the one to train you, considering no one else apart from the two of you seemed to want to work in this hunk of junk somehow considered a “proper establishment”. 

Stepping out of the back entrance with your day’s tips firmly shoved in your pocket, the silence of the alley was almost dizzying compared to what you’d dealt with for the last seven hours. Despite the distant sounds of the hustle and bustle of the market, it was much more preferable. Almost anything was preferable to being cat-called and yelled at all day. 

With a sigh and a brush of the back of your hand across your forehead, you finally made your way home. It wasn’t a far walk, just a few twists and turns that made it a comfortable enough walk to and from work. Your home was nothing exciting, nothing more than what you absolutely needed — the absolute bare essentials. It had once served as some kind of building for the Imps that were once stationed on Nevarro and eventually separated into two, unconnected homes once the Imps were chased (or killed) out. A little family had moved into the home above yours, made up of a young Twi’lek couple and a little, rose-colored girl you doubted had seen more than five cycles. You often found her crouched outside your home, digging through the dirt to find new additions to her rock collection. On the rarest of days, when you’d either be leaving or just returning from the bar, she’d already be outside as the first sun was rising and would offer you a toothless smile that made your heart warm. 

However, given the first sun was only just beginning to set, there was no young girl parading about the property. Hopefully, she was busy eating a plentiful dinner with her parents and had a nice, warm bed to look forward to tonight. 

The door creaked as you stepped inside, double-checking that you’d locked it behind you before making your way (all three steps of it) to the kitchen. With a quick look in the conservator, it seemed for the fourth night in a row now, you were having broth for dinner. With a sigh, you discarded your dirty apron aside and flipped the oven on to reheat your soup. It seemed you were in dire need for a trip to the market. 

There were a dozen and a half things you needed to do around the house, including a deep clean of your floors, as well as stripping your bed and washing the linens that you’d ignored for much too long. Taking the trash out was sufficient enough for the night, right? Right.

The evening air was cool against your skin, the first emergence of the first sunfall of the night beginning to appear. In a matter of hours, the cool air would soon become too cold to bear without some kind of protection. It was an interesting contradiction. While the ground beneath your feet was warm, almost hot to the touch because of the molten lava beneath it, the air was often cool and bleak the moment the suns began to sleep for the night. 

A soft noise behind you drew you from your thoughts, nothing more than a gentle, sad coo. You immediately turned, worrying a young babe had dodged their parents and was now exploring with no supervision. While Nevarro was now exponentially safer now that the Imps were gone, it still was no place for a child to be roaming at first sunfall. 

The last thing, actually very last thing you had expected was the sight before you. A Mandalorian slumped against your home with a little, green creature clutching at the frayed ends of his cloak. It regarded you for no longer than a moment, big eyes quickly returning to the hunter and cooing softly once more, as if urging him to get up. It tugged at the cloak again, its free hand bumping against his shoulder as if the tiny jostle would wake him.

You stood there a moment, almost afraid to take another step towards the pair. Though you’d never met a Mandalorian yourself, their reputation was enough to make your legs shake a bit under your weight. None too long ago, one had caused the entire town to burst into gunfire and killed dozens of other hunters. Undoubtedly, he (was it a he?) knew more than a dozen ways to kill you. And the creature? While it looked harmless enough now, how could you know if it would begin spewing venom at you the moment you took two steps towards it? If you’d learned anything growing up, it was to not trust a species you didn’t know. And you’d learned that lesson the hard way. 

As if aware of your thoughts, its eyes turned towards you once more and made another sad sound. It pulled at something deep inside you, something dormant and untraveled. Whatever it was, it urged you to move your damn feet and make the poor thing stop giving you those big, sorrowful eyes. 

“Okay...” Hesitantly, as if standing eye-to-eye with a Nexu, you braved a step forward. When it didn’t abruptly move or hiss, you took another. “Hey... little guy,” you murmured, eyes flickering from gleaming silver to the little one’s, “What happened?” 

It whined pitifully, turning towards the Mandalorian with a three-fingered hand as if motioning towards him and saying, ‘help him, will ya?’. 

If it were any other situation, you may have found the little creature amusing. It didn’t seem to be able to speak, but its body language and big, bug eyes were expressive enough. 

Once you were close enough to touch the Mandalorian, you slowly kneeled and made sure it stayed in your peripheral. You doubted it would suddenly sprout wings at this point, but you could never be too sure. Maybe it enjoyed playing with its food. 

“I’m gonna... Take him inside, okay?” Much to your surprise, it nodded and backed away a couple paces to give you space. Okay, so the green thing was intelligent. Good to know. 

With a steadying breath, you maneuvered your way around the Mandalorian so you could (attempt to) lift him. You imagined his armor couldn’t be light by any means, meaning you were going to have to carry a man already twice your weight, along with that much more in armor. “Knew I should have bought those weights...”

Sliding your arms under his armpits and securing your hold through intertwining your hands over his chest, you figured this was the best chance you had. There was no way you were getting him up over your shoulder and you figured dragging him by his feet wasn’t the best method, in case of a possible head injury. 

The breath immediately whooshed out of your lungs as you straightened, using gravity to your advantage and using the force to drag him backwards, instead of back down like it wanted. The little rag-covered bean waddled after you, apparently not willing to allow the Mandalorian out of his sight. 

The helmet lulled forward as you mostly-dragged him into your home, most certainly and unquestionably out cold. 

In the middle of your kitchen, you paused. Where the hell were you going to put him? The kitchen certainly wasn’t spacious enough for him. It was hardly enough room for you to comfortably move about. 

That left your bedroom.

“Just a little farther, alright?” You huffed, suddenly very keenly aware of the heaviness in your shoulders and triceps. The creature stumbling after the Mandalorian’s feet cooed in response, seemingly more content now than before. 

It took you much longer than you would’ve liked, but eventually, you somehow managed to get the damn guy on your bed. His feet hung over the bed and no doubt was coating your sheets in dirt and blood and who knew what else. At least they already needed washed.

After taking a moment (minutes, really) to catch your breath and watching the bean climb its way up your bed and back to the Mandalorian’s side, you once more found yourself at a loss. What the hell do you do now? 

Checking him for injuries was probably the best next course of action. You didn’t want the guy to die right here, on your bed, right?  

With your hands on your hips and a sweat breaking out over your brow, you looked in the what you now mentally referred to as the bean’s direction. “These guys have something against taking off their helmet, right?” Your response was a sound you couldn’t quite differentiate between amusement and agreement. Nevertheless, you nodded. “That’s what I thought.” 

After another few minutes of heavy consideration, you decided starting from the bottom-up was probably your best bet. If you were lucky, he was just incredibly sleep-deprived and absolutely nothing else was wrong with him. 

The little bean at his shoulder watched as you methodically undressed the Mandalorian, beginning with the armor as his shoulders and then moving to his chest plate. You made a small stack of it just beside your bed, being careful to not add any dinks or scratches that weren’t already on them. 

With shaky fingers, you began lifting his shirt to inspect any possible torso wounds. You were met with caramel skin etched in paler, puffier skin in various places where he’d been wounded and scarred over. A trail of dark, nearly black hair drew your gaze below his belly button and disappearing into his trousers.

You swallowed. This was not the time.

“Stomach looks good.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself. You pushed the fabric up further until it was under his chin, fingers delicately brushing across an angry, red line just below his left clavicle. It didn’t look serious and most likely just a result from his armor pressing into his skin, but it gave you an excuse to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. His chest was faintly dotted with hair, nipples pebbling at the sudden exposure to the air. “Chest looks good too.”

That left on more thing to check, the one thing you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do. 

You sank back onto your haunches for a moment, teeth anxiously worrying at the inside of your cheek as you considered your options. You didn’t have to do anything — you’d already given him and his... pet? Child? Friend? Somewhere to rest and checked him for any serious, deadly injuries. On the other hand, however, what if he did have a head injury? Without aid, a head injury could easily and quickly result in death. And you certainly didn’t want a dead Mandalorian on your hands. 

“Second option it is.” You murmured, brushing your palms down your trousers and taking a soothing breath. “But,” you began, pointing a finger in the air as you looked towards the bean. “I am not being that person.” You disappeared out of the room for a moment, quickly returning with a clean rag and making a show so the bean could see it. “See?” 

The bean, seemingly content, made an inquisitive sound. With one hand, you curled your fingers under the helmet’s edge and searched for the locking mechanism. Once you felt the tiny button, you nudged it and released a breath as it unlocked. “Okay, okay... Just gotta do this quick...”

With one, shaky hand, you gently tugged the helmet free from his head, immediately snapping your eyes shut the second you no longer felt the weight of his head. Discarding the heavy thing aside, you took the rag and, as efficiently as possible with your eyes firmly shut, placed it over his face. Though it wouldn’t make breathing especially easier, it at least would preserve some of his modesty. 

Once finished, you took a deep breath and regarded your work. You turned towards the bean with a triumphant smile. “Not bad, yeah?”

The bean regarded the rag with something akin to distaste but you couldn’t be sure. It was difficult to distinguish every emotion with its tiny face. The majority of your basis was just on its eyes.

You maneuvered your way around the pile of metal on your floor, as well as your own things to the head of the bed, eyes settling on the head of brown, presumably thick hair that stuck out from under the rag.

When was the last time someone so much as had seen a strand of his hair? Had anyone ever? Yet there you were, looking at not only it, but nearly everything else aside from his face. 

You eyed the creature currently tracing a three-fingered claw up the Mandalorian’s arm. It seemed... Conflicted. As if the whole world rested on its little shoulders, now that the Mandalorian was no longer protecting it. Its tiny features were pinched in worry, shoulders slumped forward and ears drooping at the corners. 

You wanted to console the little thing, except you still weren’t completely sure it wouldn’t nip at you if you got too close. 

Turning your attention back to the man (because at the current moment, he seemed to pose less danger), you cautiously slid your fingers around the back of his head. There was nothing but thick, course hair, even as you rounded the back of his head. At the very least, there were no external injuries. 

Until you looked down. 

And found that his foot was twisted at an angle that it most definitely wasn’t supposed to. 

“Well, kriff.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself. You regarded the said appendage for awhile, unsure quite what to do now. It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do, but moreso the fact that you weren’t sure you wanted to go snapping a bounty hunter’s leg back into place. It was usually something a person informed another of before doing. 

With a sigh, you turned your attention back to the little bean. Though you had little to no clue if it was capable of understanding you (though it had somewhat shown it could), it made you the teensiest amount less nervous to talk to it. “Maybe it’s better to do it while he’s out. What do you think?” The bean babbled something incoherently. You nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ - ✷ 

Surprisingly, the Mandalorian hardly flinched when you snapped his ankle back into place. Most surprisingly, he hadn’t woken up either. Hours later and he was still completely dead to the world. Numerous times you had to check to make sure he was still breathing. 

After about hour five, the bean decided to venture from his side. It appeared at your feet just as you were elbow-deep in washing, first inquisitively watching you scrub at your clothes, as if you were doing something it had never quite seen.

“Hey, little... Guy,” you finished lamely, pausing to eye the green creature as its head tilted to the side and those big eyes blinked. It made a soft sound, as if expecting you to easily understand. When you didn’t immediately react, it’s features pinched and it threw its arms up as if it were exclaiming something as it spewed into further coos and babbles.

You stared blankly.

What would a small, green creature want? A new, preferably clean rag for clothes? For you to throw something so you could chase it? Something to sink its little teeth into?

You faulted for a moment in your thinking. “Are you hungry?” It nodded immediately, fingers touching its belly and watching you with a look that clearly said ‘that’s what I was saying!’. “Okay, well, what do you eat?” It blinked as you stood from your washing, little feet tapping against the tiled floor as it followed you. “All I really have is broth, so it’s either broth or nothing.” It didn’t make any sound of disagreement or disappointment, so you took it as enough agreement and poured the still-warm broth (which you’d forgotten about until the stove beeped indignantly at you, still preoccupied with snapping a literal bone back into place) into a bowl. When it took the bowl you offered it, it blinked at it for a moment. Then it blinked up at you. 

“What? It’s all I got, little guy so I—,” It cut you off as it set the bowl down, before lifting its arms up that very plainly was uppity arms that babies were known for doing. It left you to stand there for a moment, mouth falling open and eyebrows shooting upwards. “You’re a kid?”

It babbled impatiently, big eyes looking at its meal before back up at you again. “Okay, um...” Slowly, still not completely sure you trusted it, you picked it up and then its bowl of broth. “You need... Help?” It cooed in what you assumed was agreement.

That was how you found yourself sitting at your table, some kind of child creature sitting in your lap as you spoon-fed it broth and occasionally pausing to let it babble something or burp. 

It was quite the character, you were learning. 

And quite the conversationalist. If only you could understand a word it was saying. 

Then you felt the atmosphere change... Shift. Where calm once sat, something you could only describe as charged replaced it. The child seemed to notice as well. Its head turned toward your bedroom, softly squealing and clapping its hands together. The Mandalorian was awake. There was a moment of silence as the dread pooled in your belly and a chill ran down your spine. 

This was the moment you hadn’t really considered. Many people, especially a Mandalorian, wouldn’t like waking up in a strange place with their armor stripped and their damned helmet off. 

Dank farrick, you just had to go and get yourself involved.

The seconds stretched as complete silence filled your home. Not even the child made another sound, though it was evident its feelings were a stark contrast from your own. Of course, it hadn’t dragged a Mandalorian into its home and practically stripped him bare. 

There was a flash of silver at the doorway of your bedroom. 

No good deed goes unpunished indeed. 

[buzzcutperfection]

First Lesson

Pissed. I was pissed. More than pissed. How could they not see it? That bat had it out for me. A single hair brushes my collar and Ms. Adams hands me a prewritten pass for the barbershop. I swear, she looks at Malcolm Harris with hair to his shoulders everyday and she still picks on me. Seriously! Wasn’t my fault I wasn’t a fan of the place.

My dress shoes clicked loudly through the empty halls as I stomped toward the barbershop. I flung the door loudly open and threw myself into the vacant chair. “Let’s get this over with,” I groaned. Mr. McKenna peaked out from behind a magazine with his blank stare. He was a billion years old. His face sagged and wrinkled, but somehow his hair had hung on and was slicked back neatly. His barber’s tunic clinked as he performed the miracle of standing up and walked up to me.

“I’d love to,” he grumbled, “But there’s been a change of plans. I’m supposed to direct you to Mr. Graham.” The social studies teacher? What the hell?

“What? Why?” I demanded impatiently.

“Mr. Graham will explain everything.” Mr. McKenna dismissed as he walked to the door and held it open for me. “Now out.”

I puzzled further over the situation as I journeyed to Mr. Graham’s room. Was he saving me? I hoped so. Wasn’t out of character. Everyone loved Mr. Graham for that. And other reasons. The fact that he was a newer teacher gave him bonus points. Along with his youth (only 23!) and his looks. Lucious brown curls in a business man's cut with a beautiful and immaculately groomed beard. To top it all off: tanned skin and emerald green eyes looked behind black glasses. Every girl would have had a crush on him if there were any at this boarding school. Then again, gender hadn’t stopped some boys, including myself, from taking a liking to him.

I knocked politely at his door as I came into it. The walls were covered with maps and charts. The chalkboard was neatly cleaned with only the necessary to read chapters remaining in the top left corner. The 36 seat-desk fusions lined up in a neat 6x6 array with the filing cabinets and bookshelves neatly organized with his favorite novels. Across from the door, he sat typing away on a computer surrounded with small keepsakes and photos. He looked wonderful as ever in brown pants, a dark green dress shirt, and a tasteful tie.

“Ian,” Mr. Graham greeted me warmly, “Nice to see you.”

“You too. Respectfully, sir, what did you want me for?” Mr. Graham silently motioned with an open hand to a desk near him and I quickly took a seat.

“I heard you violated dress code policy again,” he remarked as he got up and began to pace.

“It’s whatever,” I said with a roll of my eyes, “I get a short back and sides from McKenna and we call it a day.”

“Not really,” he contradicted, “‘McKenna’ is at his wit’s end with you. He was gonna shave you bald.”

“No way!? He can’t do that!”

“Actually he can. Policy states he can put you back into code however he pleases,” Mr. Graham rattled off from memory.

“You’re making him change his mind, right?” I asked hopefully.

“In a way,” Mr. Graham took a seat on his desk and locked eyes with me. “I want to make a deal. I give you a buzz cut and you suck me off.” I was blown away by his forwardness. My throat refused to make noises. My brain tried to wrap my head around his proposition unsuccessfully. “Don’t tell me,” Mr. Graham continued, “You don’t have experience, because I know you do. I’ve heard about the exchanges that happen around exam week. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to blackmail you. I think it’s great how you play rough with the other boys. If you refuse, you;ll end up with a bald head and my lips will remain sealed. On the other hand, you’ll get a modest buzz, I’ll make sure your scalp stays hidden, and an experience I don’t think either of us will forget anytime soon. “

My head began to spin and weigh my options. I was eighteen. This was legal. Mr. Graham would never let this get out. There were no strings attached. And a longer haircut. The only downside was my own embarrassment of sucking my own teacher off. The hottest teacher in the school. It was all that or a bald head. The choice was obvious.

“I accept.”

He smiled warmly and relocated himself to his chair. He undid his belt and shoved his pants into a puddle, exposing himself to me. He took off my blazer as I crouched in front of him, along with my tie and my own white dress shirt. I was so horny, I wasted no time digging in. He was large, but not to an extreme extent. I closed my eyes and worked with my mouth as I listened for his own mouth to tell me what to do. Instantly I recognized how he was different from the other boys. He didn;t whine or whimper like the nerdy boys or push and shove impatiently like the jocks. He let me be. Enjoy myself enjoying him. He spread out his legs and breathed deeply as he softly rested a hand on my head.

His breathing quickened suddenly and I heard a scuffle. Then a loud click followed by a distinct buzz getting closer as his hand clamped tighter. I unlatched from my position and ducked down as I pushed myself across the tile away from him. In his hand a pair of cordless clippers hummed.

“Calm down,” he spoke softly, “I’m just following through on our deal.”

“Both at the same time?” I asked, breathless.

“Of course,” he said, as though stating the obvious.

“Why? That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. Let me ask you a question,” he lectured, “Why do you think Mr. McKenna cuts hair so fast? I’ll bet your answer is because he’s busy. You’re wrong. The real reason is because he’s trying to prevent ‘accidents’ in his chair. He hates cleaning them up. And the shuddering really ruins haircuts. I, on the other hand, want those ‘accidents’ and this is how I get them.”

My cheeks burned at the thought of an “accident” in a barber chair. Mr. Graham stole my thoughts as he motioned back to himself. I stared nervously at the clippers as I crawled back to him.

“I’ll be gentle,” he reassured me. I knew he would be. He sighed quietly as I took him back into my mouth. The clippers buzzed closer like a fly. He paused the machine on my neck, drawing out the moment, then he brought them into my hair. I felt them pull gently as their hum was muffled before they cut the hair and tugged away a chunk. Mr. Graham felt the fresh stubble with one stable hand as the other continued the haircut. I could tell from the feel he had stuck to his word, it was not as short as the short back and sides McKenna gave out. As he rubbed the soft bristles he leaked into my mouth, a sweet taste reminding me of my duty. I sucked diligently as he buzzed on and got more excited. Strangely, I got more excited too. I couldn’t wait to rub the stubble after hearing all the fun he was having with my hair. He carefully moved my head around as he shore sections and moved on. This was the best haircut ever. Each stroke brought my hair shorter, and us closer to being moaning messes. As he rid my head of bulk I could have sworn I was in heaven.

As he finished up I realized my underwear was soaking wet. The silence surprised me as the clippers clicked off and I felt a final cascade of hair brush my shoulders. Mr. Graham started to rub my head and his breathing began to accelerate. His legs straightened out and he held his breath. His cock pulsed stronger than ever before a wave of fluid shot into my mouth. I drank dutifully as he felt my buzzed skull against the grain. The sweet liquid was gone in no time as his dick shrank in my mouth.

He helped me to my shaky knees after I was done. He gazed at me gleefully. He peered just over my eyes at my head. I could feel the lack of hair. How the air no longer caught through my locks. I tried to reach up and touch the results, but Mr. Graham swatted my hand away.

“Not yet. Couple more things.” To my shock he dove his hand into my pants and then quickly withdrew it. I whimpered as his fingers brushed the head. He took a moment to stare at his now wet fingers before licking them off and moaning in satisfaction. Outwardly I was taken aback, but my penis told a different story as it twitched at his boldness.

Mr. Graham reached into a desk drawer and retrieved a blue bag before standing up and grabbing me and my clothes as he moved toward the door. Still shirtless, I dragged my feet, but he reassured me “Our destination isn’t far.” I realized with horror as he flung the door wide, that it had been unlocked the entire time. He quickly marched me through the halls until we came to a staff bathroom. He locked the door behind me as I took in the simple room. A sink with a counter stretching from wall to wall in an alcove and a toilet in front of me. I glanced to the side and saw myself. I looked hot. I had seen my ears poke out awkwardly before after barbershop shearings, but now they looked cute and cohesive as the lack of style on top brought out my sharp jaw and brown eyes. Mr. Graham brought me back to reality as he pantsed me from behind. As he squeezed around me in the small space, I took off my shoes, pants, and underwear then shoved them under the sink. Mr. Graham took a seat on the closed toilet and pulled me closer. I realized now I was becoming soft. He quickly fixed that. I moaned uncontrollably as he cleaned off my penis of precum. The session ended quickly as he gazed up at me mischievously. He stood up quickly then turned me quickly towards the mirror so that my erect cock was positioned over the sink, and pinned me there with his body. He opened the fawcett and plugged the drain. From his bag he took out shaving cream and a razor. He then wet my face and gingerly applied the cream.

“No facial hair until you have a full beard. That was the rule in my house. The same applies to you.”

He turned off the faucet, the basin now full. He held my head still and took the first swipe. A week's worth of growth was peeled away then shook out into the water. His chest vibrated as he hummed and shaved. As he softly caressed me, I reached my breaking point. He was so much. Too much. I let out a moan between strokes. Instantly the razor was dropped and he changed positions. One hand on my head, one stroking my member, and his mouth kissing me. The soft bristles, His rough hands. Skin on skin. Loving kisses. This was it. I cried out in euphoria as I exploded into the sink, the fluid mixing with the foam.

“Good boy,” Mr. Graham mused as he kissed my head despite my deep pants. He took back up the razor and continued to shave me.

When all was said and done I moved to reclothe myself, but he stopped me. “One more gift.” He reached into his back and brought out a jockstrap. “This underwear is way too dirty, so I got you a replacement.”

I thanked him and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. I finished redressing and Mr. Graham sent me with some final words.

“You did great today! This first lesson was over head hair. Our next couple will be over body hair.” He kissed my head again. “Same time next week.”

I wasn’t quite sure what class I had enrolled in, but it seemed enjoyable. For once I wished there was homework.

[meta-fly33]

A/N:Long one here. If you need the first part it’s pinned to my blog👻

Time Is Irrelevant

-October

Warning: Cussing and Mentions Of Sexual Activity

“Piece of shit!” I watched the blonde brute throw down his rag, slamming the car door. I’ve been watching from the window of my store for about thirty minutes or so, clocking out from my job at the store. He started to stomp over to the mechanic. I know that mechanic will charge out the ass and molest that gorgeous Camaro.

I didn’t really think before I stepped out to stop him, “Car trouble?” He kept stomping on past me, “1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z-28, a pretty little one hundred and eighty-five horsepower and a lovely v-eight engine with a four-barrel carburetor.” Hopefully that got his attention. It did.

He stops as if someone had thrown something at him, missed, but still had a death wish. When his head turned to face me, I felt myself go numb. He walked backwards as he’s half turned. When he finally faces me, it’s almost as if he became larger as he is now in my space, “Is the hood original?” His eyes struck me. The blue that swam in his iris like the ocean stared deep into my green and yellow eyes that were ringed with a deep blue. For a second I saw him catch his breath. Like he had forgotten to breathe. So did I.

“No.” When I saw the car, I already knew it wasn’t, “If you take it to the mechanic I think you were going to, it’ll be molested.”

“Do you know any good mechanics then?” He gets more into my face. Fresh shave. Nice cologne. Very light freckles from time in the sun. Cigarettes. A sweet smell. Not a bad mix. I liked it. I liked it a little too much.

I decided to be cocky, “Yes.”

“Who then?”

“Me.” I think I regret that now.

“How much then?” I felt his eyes rake up and down, taking in me in my uniform. I was suddenly wishing I hadn’t just come off of work.

“Six pack and dinner?” I am cocky and I don’t think anymore. At this point he’s smiling, looking off into the street, hand bouncing up and down. The man’s tongue licked his teeth. Bright white teeth. His canines looked…sharp.

“Not a bad deal. What time?”

“I just got off work.”

“It’s three in the afternoon, doll.” He takes out a cigarette, putting it to his lips.

“It’s dinner somewhere.” The confidence that is flowing through me made me bounce my foot as I stare at this bronzed, toned man, “Raven Reiter.” I held out my hand, half-expecting him not to take it. Hoping he would.

His hand is large and warm as it slid into mine, “Hargrove. Billy Hargrove, little bird.” He said with a smile and eyes that ate me whole.

The bell of the store tingled, signaling a customer. I sat up, tearing my eyes from the window. I haven’t driven Billy’s car for about a month. I really haven’t thought of him. Or seen him. In Eddie’s eyes that's a good thing. Going back to my job was a great idea of his. I put on that customer service smile as the middle aged man comes to my counter. I get off work in about ten or so minutes, but out of the corner of my eye, the bounce of brown, untamed hair came past the window, the bell tolling my doom.

“Raven, I found something you might be interested in.” He waved a piece of paper around. He was wearing a hoodie under his battle vest, some flannel fingerless gloves so he wouldn’t have to take off his rings, his hair tucked as best as it could be into a Metallica beanie. It had gotten colder in the weeks going by. Snow warnings came as well as they did every year.

I took my time with my customer, annoying Eddie the way he’s done to me for four and half months. He’s actually eased up, feeling safe to not hang with me almost every single day. When the customer was satisfied with the set up and left, I finally acknowledged the metal head, “Hello to you too, Eddie. I’m doing great.” I poke fun as he throws the flier at me. Not hard to catch.

“Wow. A mind reader.” He hops up onto the counter, “How did that day with Max go?”

“I do not want to talk about it.” I finally look at the flier, sighing, “Really? A car show?”

“Yes, man. Take the Camaro.” Eddie stole a chip from the bag I was eating out of, “I’ll go with you. Unless you want Harrington to go with you. He’s more of a car person than I am.”

“Harrington can bite me.” I shove my face into the flier, “I don’t know, Edds. The last car show I went to was-”

“With him. I know. I’ve seen the polaroids.” I know he’s seen them. He stumbled onto Billy’s book full of photos of me. Even the risque photos. I’d never seen the man turn so red. He put his clothed hand on my shoulder, “This time, I know he’d want you to go. Show off his two pretty things. The car and me.”

I chuckle, pulling my face out of the paper, “Tonight? Just outside of Hawkins. How much do you want to bet Hagan will be there?” I push him off the counter so I can change out the drawers.

“How about dinner when he is not there? I’ll cook again.” Eddie shoots back, fixing his pants. I see him out of the metal wall next to me. The man has stolen my shampoo again. He’s been growing on me like a wart on my thumb. I’ve accepted him being there at this point. Eddie has been staying with me lately. So many storms. I’ll wake up in the closet, both of us covered in a blanket as we slept through the storm when he got me to fall asleep with the counting trick I taught him. The one he taught me.

I yelp again as lightning cracked across the sky. Billy squeezed me to his chest, “Come on, little bird. You need to fall asleep…” He almost growled into my ear.

“I…” I start before his hand covers my mouth.

“If you say ‘I can’t’ I will park your naked ass in the driveway.” Not a threat. A promise, “Look count with me.” He took my hand in his, smothering it as he placed it over my heart, “Count…One.”

“One…”

“Two…” My voice and his mingled together.

“You’re not behind the wheel today, Raven,” I felt myself being shaken, “You’re disappearing again.” Eddie is holding my shoulders, raising his eyebrows to my vacant face.

“I’m behind the wheel.”

“Still a shit liar.” He lets go of me, “I’ll wait in the van.” His back turned to me and something wrong pulled my stomach, like if I didn’t stop him, he would disappear. Not in the way I do though.

“Wait!” I panicked, grabbing his hood. Edward Munson screeched like a little girl as I made him stop walking.

“What the hell, Raven?” The man snapped around, a confused look etched into his face as he rubbed his neck. I don’t answer right away. I take the moment to really look at him. The strands of hair that frame his cheeks, the way his eyes crinkle when his face is scrunched up, his brown eyes that were so dark that they were almost black except when the light hit them, making them look like honey. I gulp. I felt like I was in a desert and Eddie was the only one who had water. I finally got what he was saying. I don’t need to be alone.

“I…I am almost done. Please just wait for me.” I ask him, looking off to the side. Out the window. I could see his back leaning up against the window, the floating of smoke coming from his hand where his cigarette dangled.

“You’re looking at him again.” Eddie touched my face, pulling me away from my mind tricks, “He’s not there. He’s here.” Moving his hand down from my face, he touched my chest right where my heart would be. God why can’t I tell him I don’t want him to ever walk away like that again. Don’t let me ever see your back. I raised my hand and laid it down over his, counting in my head.

“You’re here too.” I say softly, looking at him finally. His face melts a little, the sides of his eyes smoothing out as he watched me. Eddie’s hand flipped over, taking mine in his. I rubbed the boar head ring.

“You think there is enough room in there for me? I won’t fit on that bed you got in there. Seems pretty full with yourself and him.” Eddie jokes, tapping our foreheads together. I chuckle.

“Let’s go to that car show.” I say with some slight confidence.

“I’m going to turn around.” I tightly grip the steering wheel as I park the Camaro into a grassy spot. I kept the lights on as I turned the car off.

“Yeah, you can turn around with the car off.” Eddie huffs, exhaling smoke through the car. He sat up, reaching around the side of the passenger seat. Billy’s camera. His hand held it gingerly between the two of us “I thought we could add to his book. You know…But, if you don’t…”

“Take a picture now, Eddie.” I shuffled so that my body was turned to face the camera. I wore Billy’s jean jacket that covered a soft purple button up that wasn’t buttoned all the way, exposing bare cleavage in which Billy’s ring rested coldly. My hair was half pulled up into a hair clip, strands of sun bleached brown hair framing my wire frames. I actually put work into my appearance tonight.

“Over my dead body.” I could hear him in the backseat. I ignored him for once.

“Just you?” Eddie didn’t wait for an answer as he already snapped just one of me. The light blinded me for a moment, black spots dancing in my vision.

“No, both of us, man.” I lean forward, being close so it would be easy to get both of us in the frame.

“Oh hell yeah.” His sound was muffled as his cigarette dangled from his mouth. Eddie turned the camera around, putting up devil horns with his left as we both smiled, well, I smirked at the camera. Flash. The camera whirred, “Let’s get some of you and the car.” He opened the car door, careful of the people walking around the car next to us. Eddie looked good tonight. He had tamed his hair into a low ponytail at the base of his neck, bangs framing his face. His torso wore a black turtleneck paired with his DIO battle vest. There was a new patch on it. Motorhead. Interesting. His chains jingled as he moved around the car, taking a quick photo of me in the front seat.

I stepped out, earning some quick looks from show goers. I saw the flash of the camera as I came out of the car, knowing that’ll be a good shot to look at later. I could tell they didn’t expect the previous owner’s arm candy stepping out of the driver’s seat of this gorgeous car. I closed the door, leaning up against it as I saw Eddie head over to a group of people handing out drinks. As my eyes adapted to the lighting in the area, I saw a head of hair I recognized staring at a sleek black Impala. I knew Steve would be here. We didn’t leave off on the best of terms.

“I don’t understand why you are so insistent on fixing this car.” Steve kicked a rock as he watched me slide under the belly of the car, tuning him out, “You could be fixing your relationship with Max or you know your best friend.” He passive aggressively points out, “I put aside a lot of bullshit because you were with him, but now this stunt you’re pulling is the last of it.”

“Then go away.” I retort, sliding out from under the car, “If you’re done putting up with me then why are you standing here?”

“Because, the group and I care about you.” He gestures wildly, arms swinging out like an actor's would to put emphasis on something.

“If you care about me…leave me alone.”

“You tell him, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.” I grumble.

“Fine. Don’t come crawling back to me when you finally decide to want friends again.” He kicked my toolbox once before stomping over to his car, aggressively distressing his hair.

A car flooring it while it was on the parking brake broke my trance, the sound echoing across the lot. Which was perfect timing as Eddie came over with a bottle of beer and something in a red cup, “I grabbed myself a beer and you warm apple cider. You told me you didn’t want to drink and drive.” He held out the cup, “Steve-”

“I know, Eddie.” I take the cup from him, savoring the spicy smell and the warmth on my fingers. I know he’ll see the car. I’m the only damn blue vehicle here that the hood didn’t match the model since I kept it how Billy had it. A very well known one.

“You look good, Raven, by the way.” Eddie took a drink of his beer, standing next to me as he gazed over the crowd, “I saw you at that car meet. The last one you went to.” He sheepishly looks over at me. I turn to him, face contorted in confusion, “He lifted you up and put you gently on the hood of this car, making you the centerpiece of attention. You were answering peoples questions about the car as he brought you warm apple cider and gave you the same jacket you’re wearing now.” He shuffled his feet, “I couldn’t tell then, but he seemed to only see you. I only thought he was a jerk. Still kind of do.”

I felt my jaw clench as I remember that night. We stayed til everyone was gone. We fell asleep on the hood of this very car, “I remember. I don’t remember you if you had come up to me.” I took a sip of my own drink, the spice burning my throat slightly, “You clean up nice, Eddie.” I gave him a compliment as well, he deserved that much.

“I’m not really the memorable type.” He chuckled, placing the beer at his lips. He did look good. I think it’s the rings. I’ve learned in my storm fear now that those rings are lifelines. Find one and hold on. The smell of his cheap cologne was growing on me. Not a bad mix.

“Look who it is.” Someone stood at the front of the car, bathed in light. Hagan and his girlfriend, who was shivering in her slutty shorts and top, stood at the front of my car. Eddie owes me dinner, “I thought you were selling her to me, Reiter?”

“He isn’t for sale.” I put extreme emphasis on the gender bit. I don’t look at him as I sip my drink. I felt a little more confident as I know maybe he wasn’t stupid enough to damage my baby in front of a ton of people who would get really disrespectful really fast if he did so, “But, I would suggest getting your girl a coat.”

“I’m completely fine.” The ignorant stab at my actual concern.

“Your nipples falling off is completely fine I guess.” Eddie snorted into his drink.

“Atta girl.” I smile at that comment.

I saw Hagan shift forward and then a shattering of glass. My world slowed down as I watched Hagan take a foot to my headlight making the light go out. I dropped my drink as I moved to run the man down, but the blur of black and blue denim was faster. Eddie football tackled him and put him on the ground, getting one good right hook in. Not his left. His left hand would have hurt him as much as Hagan. Hagan struggled, punching Eddie in the lower jaw. I watch as my friend gets thrown to the ground and my legs finally start to move forward. I wouldn’t just watch. Not this time.

“Let go of him!” I grab his shoulder and arm, trying to pull him off of Eddie. I bit down on his ear, my mind going blank as I heard him yell and copper danced on my tongue. Tommy's response was that I got hit in the nose by an elbow. Molten heat flared across my face, causing me to let go as I back off to hold my face. I could feel liquid warmth over my lips. I open my eyes in time to see Steve Harrington bull rush Hagan, the two of them rolling in the grass. Steve ended up on top for only a moment, his eyes meeting mine as he gave me the look I know well. Run.

I swayed over to Eddie, a mess as he tried to sit up. I reached to him, one hand still on my face. His hand meets mine, his left. I grabbed a ring as I helped him up, looking at him through squinted eyes. Oh my god. I couldn’t fully see but the blood was enough to know he was messed up. I helped my friend over to the passenger seat, opening the door while he fell into the seat, groaning as he held his face. I looked over to see Hagan had left Steve on the ground in a fetal position as he made his way back over to us, murderous intent on he screwed up face. I saw some car people grab hold of him, knowing he had done wrong and yelled to me to drive away now.

I felt my adrenaline kick in as I swung myself up and slid over the hood of my car, scrambling as I stumbled off the hood onto the grass, picking myself up as I grabbed my door handle to get inside my vehicle. I dove into the car, partially landing in Eddie’s lap as I frantically got the keys into the ignition. The car roared like the angry man in the back seat. I couldn’t tell if he was mad about the car or my face. I would assume the car. I slam my door and throw the car into reverse. Looking over my shoulder as I backed out, spinning the wheel onto the road that took us out of here and then the engine rumbled loudly as I punched it into drive and moving down into fourth. I slam my boot against the gas, kicking up dirt as I jerk forward and zoom down the road with one headlight.

“Ow.” Eddie flinches away as I dab at his nose with a rag. I grabbed his hair and held him still as I cleaned the cut on his nose, “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

“Put your hand back in the damn bowl.” I mumbled, staring over the rim of my glasses. Eddie sat in a dining room chair in front of me, legs spread wide so I could fill the empty space between us. He had stripped his top clothes off so I wouldn’t dirty them anymore with my messy first aid skills. He put his right hand back into the bowl of cheap vodka I had laying around. Eddie’s face had the beginnings of two bruises on his left cheek and just under his right eye, not including the one that already had fully blossomed on his jaw. His lip and bridge of his nose was split, but at least his nose wasn’t broken like mine. He still needed to put that back in place once I was done with his face. He blew smoke against my chest, the loose whisps finding my nose.

“I still find that weird. You don’t smoke, but you like the smell?” He grumbles, not liking the grip on his hair. At the moment, I couldn’t smell anything.

“I’m weird?” I shoot back, switching the rag for a band aid. I carefully placed it so it wouldn’t rest uncomfortably on his face. I take the wet rag that wasn’t soaked with cheap liquor and clean up the rest of his face.

“Hey, I’m not the one who almost bit the asshole’s ear off.” He scrunches his face at the cold rag. The guy looked up at me, shifting his face, “I’m not the first you’ve done this for, Raven.” Eddie puts the cigarette out in the ashtray I’ve forced him to use. My hand halts, staring into his face so he could see he was right. This sadly wasn’t my first rodeo. My face must have shown that it was an upsetting memory as his hand slides up to my hair, bringing our foreheads together, “Tell me about it.” He offers, letting me tell my story if I want to. I open my mouth.

“Ow, doll.” He pulls away until I grab his soft, blonde curls to pull him back, “I will break-”

“Billy, shut up.” I knew what he did. Max told me. But, here I stand, his baggy shirt covering my naked body as I clean his face. I just got out of the shower at my place when I’d seen him sitting on my bed, face beaten and an angry red point on his neck. I had gone with Joyce and them to help with Will. Well I showed up last minute. I was told to not come because of my injury, but I brought more heaters in the end from my garage. I wasn’t there for when Billy had beaten the shit out of my best friend, “If you’re not going to tell me what happened then you don’t get to make threats.”

“Promises, my little bird.” His hand found my bare thigh, kneading the skin there, “You should see the other guy.” Sadly, I had seen Steve’s face. I don’t respond to that as I drop the rag and grab his pack of cigarettes, tapping the box before sliding one out. I put one in my lips and did not give him one. I tossed the box behind me which caused him to grip my flesh tightly, anger boiling quick. I snatch the lighter from his coat pocket, flicking open with relative ease and clicking it til a flame sprung forth. I inhaled the cigarette as it floated in the flame, smoke escaping the corners of my mouth before closing the lighter.

I take the cigarette out of my mouth, exhaling the rest of the sweet smoke into his face. I hold it out to him. A silent offer to just be with each other for the rest of the night. Billy took the cigarette and leaned forward to rest his head against my chest, “Sure, doll.”

“Did you ever find out what he did?” Eddie dumped the bowl of bloody liquor into the sink. I shook my head. I hadn’t told him that I knew what he had done. I’m under oath to stay quiet, “Do you want me to go? Since it’s storm free tonight.”

I paused, “You can go home if you want. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.” I stood up and was met with a bare chest.

“I’m okay with that.” He smiled softly. That dimple. Forget the rings. I took his hand, feeling the cold metal there, “But I think you might want to talk to Harrington. He did just save our asses.” His fingers tapped the inside of my wrist. Eddie had been doing that lately as his own little thing for me. Let me know that he was real.

I groaned at how right he was. Steve had come to my aid again. I can’t really count how many times he’s saved me, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Maybe you can fix your friendship with him too.”

“Fat chance.”

“You can.” His other hand went to my chin, making me look at him, “You’re good at fixing things. Fix things with him.” My heart stopped.

“Time would fix it if I just leave it alone.” In a way I was right. Something strange always seemed to fix friendships in the group. Typically the norm was life or death situations.

I stare into his brown eyes. He…looked alluring. I saw his eyes move down to my lips, but they left as quickly as they came.

“He needs to back off.” A faint growl from my mind came from behind me.

“Time is irrelevant.” He retorts back, letting me go as if he heard those words as well, “I’ll stay.” He takes his hair out of his ponytail, “Did you want to talk some more tonight?”

I pondered on that, “How much do you want to know?”

“As much as you are willing to tell me.”

“Could you fix my nose first?” I look over to him.

“So it’s my turn to bully your face?” A wide shit-eating grin was spread over my friend’s face.

“Fix my damn nose and I’ll talk.”

After he had fixed my nose and I had swapped my jeans for sleep shorts along with ditching the jacket, we had gotten comfy on the couch, sharing the single beer I had left in the fridge which was mostly empty. I lost track of the time as I told him the things that I could tell him. It felt good to open up. He never interrupted me. Not once. He just watched me talk like I was the last person on earth. Looked at me without the worry of me committing suicide. Eddie would fiddle with his rings or his chains; sometimes put his hair to his mouth and mess with that. His leg would bump against mine when he saw I would get choked up over a subject. We drifted off on the couch, facing each other still in our dirty clothes with our legs tangled with one another's. Like friends would. Right?

I sat across the table, nursing a cup of coffee the next morning. Steve sat across from me, arms crossed. I called him early this morning, asking to meet up and he just said, “You know where to go.” I had been careful not to wake Eddie as I moved around the house. I left him an aspirin and some money to grab some breakfast if he wanted something. I needed to be in town anyway. Needed a new headlight.

Now here and able to look at him, his face wasn’t as bad as Eddie’s. Scratches mostly. He was looking out the window at the car like it was the only thing in the world, “When did you finish the car?” Starting small. Steve normally was the one to start conversations with me. I just never talked much so he took the role.

“Last month.” I sip on the black coffee. Ugh. I reached to pull the sugar toward me, but Steve’s hand had beat me, sliding it over to me.

“You never drink coffee without sugar. You always take a sip of it first before you put sugar in it. I always give you the sugar. That has never changed.” He tilts his head to the side as he spoke, giving me a small smile, “You looked good last night. While it lasted.”

I poured my normal amount of sugar into my coffee, setting down the decanter, “Well, I can’t always be a grease monkey.”

“You’re always a grease monkey.” Steve chimes back, “Except right now you look like shit.” He gestured to my face, eyes widening to show expression. Eddie had fixed my nose and cleaned my face up, putting a cream to help the swelling on it as well. My nose was purple and yellow, splotchy reds as well. It was still swollen just not as much.

“I feel like it too.” I sigh, taking a long drink. Better. Except the two of us sat in awkward silence. He was the first to open his mouth. Like always.

“Look…I’m sorry-”

“No.” I stop him. He isn’t the one needing to apologize.

“What?” He looked like I slapped in the face. Sadly that I have done too much of.

“I am the one who’s sorry.” I sat up straighter, looking at him finally, “My…Billy died and you were trying to be there for me as much as you hated the man. You hated how I was with him.I understand that he wasn’t the healthiest for me. You also have to understand that I loved him and you will never know who he was behind closed doors because it’s not my place to tell you. I still love him. Even after everything he was forced to do.” I reach across the table and grab Steve’s hand, “But, I know hating everyone and pushing them away isn’t going to help me get better. They say time fixes most things…But, someone…someone once told me time was irrelevant and that I can fix things because that is what I do best.” Steve had this sad look on his face, “So this is me starting to fix things. Starting with…My best friend.” I finished, letting that float in the space between us. I felt the minutes tick by as I could feel him think over what I said.

He stood up suddenly, taking his hand from mine. I said too much, overdid it. Until the man slid into the booth seat next to me. He pulled me into a side hug, resting his head on top of mine, “You were always good at fixing things.” He chuckled, “Except when you’re mad. Then you just bite peoples’ ears.”

I smile at the statement and the man that stood near the door. That leather jacket clad man with that cocky smirk nodding as if I did right. I blink. He’s gone. I’m okay with that.

I gasped, coughing and spluttering as shitty beer spilled out of my nose and mouth. I couldn’t finish the keg even though I had come close and claimed second place as someone I knew claimed first. He didn’t even wipe his chin coming up for air as beer sprayed from his mouth, his chest and stomach covered in a beer trail as it dripped from his angled lips. Tommy patted Billy on the back as he yelled out. He looked oddy radiant as he basked in the glory of being ‘Keg King’.

My shirt was soaked through, my white wife beater, not hiding the fact I was without a bra. Nor was I ashamed of it. I had just come from the shop before this party, finishing a rush order on a Chevy’s whole back brake system so I had just gone as I was. I had spots of dirt and grime on my arms and face, my gloves tucked into my back pocket, and for the challenge, I had slipped my arms out of the straps of my overalls. I was a Grease Monkey for Halloween. I push my hair back out of my face, glancing back his way.

He was staring right at me, eyes eating in my appearance. Through me almost. I stared back and we continued like that until Tommy dragged him deeper into the party which was chanting Billy’s name. I wink at him before we lose sight of each other. We hadn’t seen each other for three days. I had fixed his car. He bought me beer and dinner. We hadn’t exchanged numbers or addresses or anything. Just left to our separate ways after he covered the tab. Was I happy that we had found one another again. Maybe.

I pull my overall straps back over my shoulders to hide my chest. The crowd had gone back to dancing and gyrating against one another, no longer interested in beer chugging. I went to find a drink of water. My nose and throat were still on fire as I made my way into the house, Depeche Mode played People are People. The itch to dance was there. I was almost tempted, but I at least wanted water first. I found a bathroom that wasn’t occupied by a couple and opened it, leaving it open so people could see that it was available after I grabbed a drink.

Turning the faucet on, I leaned down and took a drink from the running water. A long drink. I turned the water back off, wiping my face as I pulled back. My eyes went to the mirror and I froze in place. He was smirking at me through the mirror, “Hey, little bird.”

“Hello, Keg King.” I turn around to face him, my back up against the counter since he was standing so close. He smelled of beer and his cologne. He was glossy with sweat as if he had just ran a mile in those jeans and leather jacket. He looked greek in a way. I didn’t mind.

“You were pretty close to beating me.” Billy reached forward, flicking a drop of water away from my nose. I stare at him. He stares back. He looks away at the hallway, seeing people hang out on the walls or dance, “How come I couldn’t find you again?”

“You were looking for me?” I snort, finding that hard to believe.

“Yes.” He said back, firm. It made my ears ring.

“I go to the same school as you. If you stuck around for more than just gym.” I shrug, my strap slipping off my shoulder while I did so. I decide to hop up on the counter of the sink, becoming more eye level with him even though now I sat just a smidge above his height.

He didn’t respond. Billy just looked at me up and down, sucking on his bottom lip. God damn. We just stared at each other. The air was hot. Tense as we stared each other down. It felt like we had been there forever.

“My car sounds better after you touched it.” He spoke first, shoving his hands into his back pockets, glancing away.

“That’s because I replaced your belt. And took out that crap fan. You were lucky I had a spare one on hand.” I point at him, “That and flushed your transmission.”

“Yeah. For dinner.”

“Would you rather still have the shit fan and a terrible transmission? All while paying about two hundred or more for it?” I cocked back, “I think I was okay with what I laid down on the table.” He snorted at that last bit.

“You fix cars, but you don’t own any. You use your bike like a kid.” Billy looked back to me with hooded eyes, attitude dripping from him. I could taste it on my tongue almost.

“It’s a nice bike.” I chuckle.

“How old are you even?” He jerks his head back, flinging thag stray curl back. Damn.

“Seventeen.” I say honestly.

“Really?”

“No, I’m an immortal being of old. I’m like three hundred and eighty-seven.”

“You act like those shitstain kids.”

“Hey.” I snap, getting his attention, “I’m like the mother of those shitstain kids. Watch who you’re talking about because it’s not me who you should be scared of, but those kids would rock your shit and you wouldn’t have even seen it comin’.” Billy’s eyes searched mine, trying to find something. What I don’t know. I value those kids. I didn’t fight for their lives and almost lost an arm for no damn reason.

“I didn’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting on his feet. I didn’t think I had upset him that much.

“No hard feelings.” I stuck my hand out. He stared at it as if he didn’t know what to do with it. After a beat, Billy ignored it, pushing my knees open to stand closer. That I didn’t expect and I leaned back on the sink counter, hands finding the rims and steadying myself with that.

“No hard feelings…” I watched as he laid a hand on my thigh, the leather warm through the denim fabric, “Should I be scared of you, Raven?” I gulp. My hardcore demeanor gone as I saw him start to lean in. I hadn’t noticed I was leaning in as well.

“Hargrove?!” A voice that was looking for Billy, called his name down this very hall made me pull back, stopping myself. Saved by his friend. I hopped down off the counter, making him flinch as I got really close to his chest in the process. I could smell the sweat now.

“Well time for you to-” I was cut off by the bathroom door suddenly slamming close and the click of the lock sliding into place, “Won’t your pals miss you?” I say, swallowing. My throat felt dry. I felt him there. Billy.

“I don’t care.” His voice was low, almost a grumble. I felt my resolve to keep my eyes to myself crumble.

I turned to look back at him as he placed his left hand against the counter, his knuckles tightening as if holding back, blocking me in. His ocean eyes were hooded, finding my green ones. He had been looking for me. Meaning I hadn’t left his mind. Meaning I was in deep, “How deep am I?”

“Pretty fuckin’ deep, doll.” Billy chuckled, leaning down to close the distance between us. I didn’t stop him as his hand grabbed my hip to pull me to his. I didn’t stop him when he locked us together in a kiss, tasting that same beer all over again as we moved with each other. I didn’t stop him as we stayed in that bathroom the remainder of the party.

“I was thinking of putting the…Hey, Raven. You’re listening right?” Eddie elbowed me as I bit the end of my pen, I was still here. I was getting better at looking like I was still here anyway.

“Yeah and I’m a shit liar so you don’t have to say it.” I raise my brows as I lean back in my chair as he sighed.

“You said you would help me set up the smoke system.” Eddie dropped his own pen, staring at me. It was the day before Halloween and he was setting up for the party at a recreational center so that Corroded Coffin could play whatever they wanted at a party full of drunk and drugged high school kids making poor choices. I was one of them once. It was the greatest poor choice of my life.

“I am.” I look over to him. That black bandana pushed his hair back as best as it could, his face was looking better since the start of this month as the cuts had healed and not left a trace, but the bruise under his right eye was still very yellow.

“Well if you were, you wouldn’t have been still sitting here. You would know that you also need to fix it.” He threw my paper back down in front of me for emphasis. I know I had promised.

I stood up, picking up the tool bag next to me and the paper in my other hand, “Show it to me, Edds.” I said with a guilty glance to him. I’ve become more conscious at hurting others’ feelings now. Ever since I finally reconnected with Steve. He’s still a bit distant. Punishment really.

“I sadly can’t stay mad at you.” He punched my shoulder, smirking. The punch was light but the sting of the rings made it hurt a little more. I deserved it.

“You really should.” I poke back, hitting him in the hip lightly with my toolbag.

“You are coming to the party tomorrow, right?”

I don’t answer as he leads me to the smoke machine. I was planning on showing my face then leaving. Slipping out the backdoor to go to the cemetery to see him. Classic Halloween horror movie bullshit. Except sometimes that same bullshit comes to life. Only in Hawkins at the moment though. I look down at the box that held the smoke machine, “Could have at least taken the thing out of the box…”

“And keep breaking it? Don’t change the subject.”

“Yes I’ll be-” Boom. I swung around, seeing a door with chains through the handle rattle loudly. I felt it. The dread. I swung around too fast, foot catching on the box and sending me down. Like last time. I dropped my toolbag and tried not to panic. I heard Eddie’s muffled shout of my name. Count. Breathe. Ring. Too late.

I tried to keep myself from ripping the chain away from the door, hearing him scream in pain. The kids were right. My Billy was gone. What was in there wasn’t him. It wasn’t him. But, I couldn’t stop myself, “Billy!”

I forget the plan, going to the glass to see him. I felt hands on my shirt as some of the boys tried to pull me back. I saw his face. He or it…Billy saw mine. I saw him. That cocky glint for a split second, “Billy! Fight it! Please! Come back! Come back to me!” I had closed my eyes as they pulled me away just in time for the door to get charged.

I slipped and fell on the floor, landing on my butt and feeling the water soak into my shorts. He banged on the door, “MAX! Let me out! Raven!” He called our names. Mine. I heard the glass break, letting out the hot air.

I saw the kids start backing off. I didn’t. I couldn’t move. The door chain broke. He slammed the door open and charged the first thing he saw. His hand went around my throat, clenching hard as I was pushed to the floor. I choked, grabbing his wrist and digging my fingers in, “B-Billy…count…”

I saw him pause, reading my face. I saw a tear run down his face as his forehead gently tapped mine. His lip quivered as I felt his hand squeeze tighter, “I-I…lo-“

He was thrown off of me, air shooting into my lungs as his hand left my throat. I put my hand to where it had left, looking through my cracked lenses to see El push him up against a wall, pinning him there with a weightlifting bar. He growled, trying to fight her force. His beautiful face pulsed with black veins as he strained to fight the girl off.

I felt Max grab my bicep, pulling me up from the floor. I didn’t run. I look up to Billy, seeing his eyes look to me, “I love you too.” I sob before turning, grabbing El and Max, finally leaving him behind.

“Raven! Doll! I don’t like this!!” Eddie was in front of me, sitting in between my legs as he shook me and gently slapped my cheek. I came back, gasping for air like I had been choked again and wailed, lunging for him like he was a lifeline. It was a scare for him too as he cried out, falling flat on his elbows. I sat in his lap, feeling his belt buckle dig into my stomach as I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his vest, my cheek scraping the rough denim, “Hey! I got you…I got you.” He wrapped a arm around me, holding me tightly. I noticed he called me ‘doll’. Like he did. I liked it. From both Billy…And oddly enough from Eddie.

I let loose a cry, “I disappeared…I…Eddie…I can’t…” I hiccuped and sniffled, barely breathing. I felt very sick. I wanted to be sick. I had pushed that memory down so deep it only came in flashes. I was there. I could feel his hands on my throat, his hot breath against my face. The brush of his lips as he tried to tell me that he loved me.

Eddie grunted as he pushed up off the ground and sat me back on his thighs comfortably before he pulled me into a hug, “Count. One…” I couldn’t breathe, “Count or I tell Steve.” Eddie growled into my ear.

“Don’t…Threaten me…” I hiccuped, gripping his sides.

“A promise. Not a threat. Count. One…” I told him that. Promises. Not threats.

“O-One…”

https://meta-fly33.tumblr.com/post/694991871752241152/faces-to-music

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (3/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5

Notes: So I was really planning on my posting the next chapter tonight and wahhhh right on time @renrampant posted this beautiful piece of art inspired by lovebug. I hope this chapter satisfies <3. I hope the zekehan kiss which will be coming in a chapter or two does justice to the art too.

Levi was a man of his word and he always had been. The night he created his tinder profile, such a penchant had turned out to be more than just an inconvenient truth.

Something so ideally simple as to create a tinder profile, shouldn’t have taken him more than a few hours. Yet, Levi found himself searching, grappling for the right words to say, finding some way to make himself more attractive than he actually was. It turned out with his own meagre attributes, drawing the right person was an altogether daunting task.

Maybe he was overthinking that night. Overthinking had been enough though to leave him exhausted, retiring for the night even before he even noticed he had forgotten to place the phone by his bedside.

When he came into his senses again, sunlight was streaming through the room, turning even the dimmest corners a little less black and a little more gray. The phone was a warm heavy weight vibrating on his chest.

He had to leave for the office soon.

His sleeping schedule only provided him a generous hour and a half to shower and to commute. Frustration at not being able to complete his bio the night before had him sluggish. It had him unwillingly reaching towards the back of his mind as he showered, as he shaved and pulled his light sweater on.

He considered extirpating that nagging thought. All you have to do is put a bio right? Levi thought to himself as he made his way to the subway station. He memorized the way to work like the back of his hand, all the way until the train platform He took the risk of walking straight ahead, eyes completely glued to the screen in front of him.

How it had taken him so much focus to decide on a bio. How it had taken him so much energy and thought. He didn’t know.

Levi though was a man of his word and thus, he had ended up clicking save after typing only a few simple straightforward words.

'Currently software testing. If interested, please swipe right.’

***

“So Levi, you’re a software tester?”

Levi found himself stifling a surprise snort at that question. The sound had come out as something he managed to disguise as a clearing of his throat. Hopefully it worked.

They had just settled on one of the corner seats of a chain coffee shop, a conservative choice for a first date. That is, if he were planning on impressing her. The date felt more like an obligation than an actual passion project. And obligations always had Levi’s mind running on overdrive, even with things as simple as ice breakers.

He didn’t expect that to have been the first line of conversation. He didn’t even know how to pronounce her name yet. The woman was looking expectantly though, bending a little forward. Whether she had been feigning interest or whether she had been genuinely interested, Levi couldn’t really tell.

Technically he tested software for a living and he didn’t need to really expose himself as the head engineer of the software so he settled for a nod.

“Oh, what kind of software do you test?” The woman in front of him pressed.

Levi snuck a glance at his phone under the table. Lynn. But was it pronounced ‘lint?’ Or was it pronounced ‘line?’

He was overthinking again. But when the woman had pronounced his own name correctly, it seemed almost criminal to have to mispronounce her name. Maybe he could table that question for a while.

Or never go on a date with her again. Levi thought to himself as he looked back up at her with the most casual face he could muster. “I test biology related software,” he answered. He purposely kept it vague. He had to note she was also a love alarm user. She had mentioned that part in her bio. Bringing it up in a conversation though was another issue altogether. If he brought it up, she might ask. If the conversation continued, she might ask more.

Did he want to expose then that he was the one who had designed the actual application?

“Biology sounds very interesting,” she commented. She didn’t seem interested in Biology though.

Not as interested as Hange. That quick comparison came like an uninvited visitor and Levi found himself just slapping the phone on top of the table on impulse. The clack of the phone on the table, the metal on hardwood rattled him enough to drive those thoughts away.

Lynn jumped in surprise. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. When he was thinking longingly about someone married, and comparing her to Lynn, his date for the day, blushing seemed like an almost welcome sensation. “I heard you use the love alarm,” Levi started. When he was already making a fool of himself, might as well go straight to the point.

“You would like to check if we’re attracted to each other huh?” She asked. “But I don’t think we’d find out by the first date…”

“I said on my profile, I wanted to test a software so that’s why I’m here now actually.” Those words forced themselves out of Levi and they came out as a disturbed flow, as guttural sounds that burned in his throat. In the end, the honest man inside him prevailed.

“Test?” Lynn had been nice enough at least to mirror him and put her phone on the table. “You wanna test the love alarm now?”

Levi nodded as he fixed his eyes on the screen in front of him. He was familiar enough with the banner in the front of the screen to know with just a quick glance. The love alarm was active.

He didn’t have to open the application or pull down the banner to know the result. He was all too familiar with how the application would work even when placed on silent mode. The banner should at least appear, with the words ‘Someone nearby is in love with you.’

If there were at least two people around them then, if somebody else rang it, Levi would have been compelled to check. Both applications were void of hearts though. Levi closed the application and pocketed his phone. “It looks like we aren’t attracted to each other.” He only realized as those words escaped from his lips, how awkward or maybe how rude of a comment it came out as.

Lynn’s eyes were wide for a second before she furrowed her brows, framing those brown eyes. “Of course, we just met. I think attraction is something that can be built over time right?” Lynn answered.

“You’re not wrong,” Levi said. Really, he didn’t even believe he could be someone who could rattle off facts about love. Hange had said it herself, he was a little inexperienced.

He wanted to be right about it though. He wanted to believe attraction could be built over time. By extension, he wanted to hold on to the possibility that attraction could also dissipate into apathy. After all, all those emotions should have been in the same ballpark.

“So what do you think?” Lynn asked. She had said some words before that but maybe Levi had reflected too deeply to have processed anything more than the face of the woman before him.

If he blinked and squinted a little afterward, he could pretend that same wavy brown hair was Hange’s. Hange’s hair though was a little shorter and a little messier and when bright light shone at it from certain angles, it came off as a little red. Hange’s eyes were a little bigger and her face was a little rounder.

Lynn was just too different from Hange to ever be Hange.

When Levi let his vision blur though, let it focus on her features slowly then all at once, he could play pretend. When looking from his peripherals, settling for blurs instead of clear pictures, he could pretend the brown hair was Hange’s, the waves that fell on her shoulders as just another layer.

He didn’t even notice it, even after they had split the bill and when she turned down his half hearted offer to take her home. That was until her last greeting came out as they parted ways along the main street that led up to the train station.

Her last greeting was a long way off from a conventional goodbye but it had done its job to get Levi’s attention.

“By the way Levi, my name isn’t Hange.” She unmatched him on tinder after that.

***

Levi decided to put a small note under his name.

Software Engineer. Currently testing software. If interested please swipe right.

It turned out though, there were people who never read bios. “So, what do you do for a living?” The woman in front of him asked. His case in point.

Hange likes reading. An invasive thought tore through him then and Levi wondered how that could have ever been related to the situation at hand.

When he questioned himself, he found out why he even reflected on it in the first place. Right, since Hange likes reading, she wouldn’t have overlooked my bio if she found me on tinder.

Of course, she wouldn’t have tinder. Levi took a deep breath then, reminding himself for the nth time that he was going to have to settle for people who weren’t married to billionaire business tycoons.

He was going to have to settle for people who weren’t Hange.

But he didn’t have to settle for her either. She was underwhelmed yet underwhelming at the same time and Levi was starting to miss Lynn already as the more desirable option.

He quickly shook his head. You don’t have to see any of these people again. All you have to do is turn the love alarm on and watch it ring. But he was feeling so underwhelmed, so disappointed with the turn out of the date in front of him just minutes into meeting her. He had entertained just the thought of cancelling their food there, the only thing stopping him being the wasted food and the poor waitress who would have to clean the mess. So he decided he could at least stay long enough to at least try.

“So, have you heard of the love alarm Nanaba?” Levi asked. He may have put just a little more emphasis in her name. After all, he didn’t want the Lynn-Hange incident happening again.

“Of course, who hasn’t learned about the love alarm app? Actually I have it with me right now.” Nanaba pulled out her phone and dropped it in front of him.

Ten years of hard and stressful work made Levi immune to even the slightest compliments. “You wanna do some testing?” He asked. “Don’t you want to see if we’re compatible?”

Compatible. That was a complex word and Levi started to doubt the applicability of that application in determining compatibility. It was a love alarm, not a compatibility alarm.

Nanaba grinned. “Sure but I have to tell you, I don’t think it actually works.”

Levi raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. He hoped it seemed genuine though. “Really?” When he momentarily thought back to the numerous support tickets logged just within the past two weeks thought, his expression may have turned just a little genuine. It was a mess of an application after all.

“I’ve been using it for a few months already... And it hasn’t rung, not even once. .”

Maybe nobody likes you. Levi had some ironclad rules about testing, always start with user errors, not with application errors and that had him instinctively blaming her but he had to note, most people had one to two matches, Nanaba didn’t look particularly unlikeable either. Just with the thought of statistics, it should have at least rung once if she kept it on regularly.

Levi quickly switched from his engineering hat to his much more empathetic yet still very shitty customer service persona. “Maybe you just haven’t found the one who could ring it for you?” The words tasted so sweet they almost instantly clabbered into sour milk in his mouth. He felt like he was in some sappy Korean drama.

“Well, it rang with my friend Mike once but we don’t see each other that way…”

“Oh, really? Then why did you say it’s broken?”

“Because it rang with my best friend and that doesn’t count...” Nanaba wanted to say more. It was all over her face and her tone.

Levi was in no mood though to play love counselor. But he wasn’t an asshole enough to cancel the food and ditch a seemingly sad woman either. The food came at the right time when Levi was entertaining the prospect of just leaving.

Nanaba looked very much in the mood to speak, speak about something a little more emotional, a little more serious than hobbies and Levi found himself hesitant to force the conversation elsewhere.

Levi came out of that date with no second date, no results. Nanaba on the other hand came out of that date with new found confidence to confess her feelings to her long time best friend.

By the time they had exited the shop, Levi was already swiping again, grumbling obscenities about how testing wasn’t supposed to be that hard.

***

“Rico Brzenska,” Levi said. There were only too many ways to mispronounce ‘Rico.’ Still, two failed dates had him careful about names already. “So what do you do for a living?” And careful about other things as well.

“I’m a student.”

Levi almost spit his tea out at that. He should have been more careful. He had read her bio, she had mentioned something about a love alarm app and that had him swiping right already. He was sure if he had seen any indication of a minor, he would have swiped left. “Really? What kind of student?” He asked, having gone subtly for his phone and pushing it further under the table.

“A graduate student taking business and commerce.”

Levi only had to take a quick glance at his settings to be sure, there were no chances of him dating a minor, as long as nobody was lying about their age on tinder. Being an honest man though, Levi had a harder time looking through white lies.

Such awareness had him studying her round face, her large blue eyes for a little longer. She could have been a minor. Or he could just be paranoid.

But when dating a minor could actually mean jail time, Levi didn’t want to take any chances. “Do you have any ID on you?”

“ID?” Rico frowned. “Why would you need an ID?”

“You said in your bio you wanted to test the love alarm right?”

Rico nodded. “Yes, I just wanna make sure before I start dating someone, we already have the initial attraction. I don’t wanna waste my time with people who aren’t attracted to me or I’m not attracted to, if you get what I mean?”

In response, Levi hummed in understanding. He did get what she meant. The last thing he wanted to do though was inadvertently ring the love alarm of someone a good many years younger than him and risk jail time. He probably wouldn’t ring it anyway.

But just in case. Levi put his phone out on the table, leaving one hand outstretched as if to wait for an ID.

No ID. No Love Alarm. He was sure that was the sign he was giving.

"Wait you don't think I'm off age do you? You think I'm lying on my profile?"

"No, I don't think you are," Levi said. Maybe his expression betrayed his words.

Rico eventually let go of an ID, a school ID from a familiar university logo Levi was sure he had seen a few times. And her face then had been one of pure irritation and maybe a hint of fury.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "There? Legal enough for you?"

Still a student, still too young to be engaging in anything with an older man, at least by Levi's standards. Still, he found himself almost obligated to just test the alarm in front of her.

Rico didn't look happy at all to be heavily scrutinized, or doubted. When she activated her application, Levi saw it as a cue to activate his own.

All you have to do is press the button. Levi told himself. He knew it wouldn't ring. He felt no attraction to her but paranoia had his brain going in all sorts of directions at once. Maybe the blood that rushed through his cheeks then was love. Maybe his hands shaking then were nervousness and excitement at meeting one's destined partner.

Also Rico wore glasses. For some reason, that had him thinking back to someone else with glasses, he wondered for a second if her eyes were much larger without those on. And he wondered if it was similar for Hange.

How such a long train of thought could have occupied him in such a short frame of time, interrupted by a quick sleight of hand, Levi didn't know.

But it had ended so abruptly, almost violently with the familiar cacophony of two love alarms ringing at once.

For a second, Levi sat frozen on the table as his mind went ahead, racing over theories and potential testing methods to deduce the root behind the outcome.

Do I have a glasses kink? That had been Levi's first thought. He looked down at his own phone to see the one heart and the bright message on top.

One person nearby is in love with you.

His second thought had been a little more objective. It's a bug. He told himself. I'll just have to do further testing.

Rico’s eyes were wide in shock. For a few seconds or so, she struggled to move and he couldn’t blame her. After all, the ringing of multiple love alarms in such a silent place like a cafe on a weekday morning was a scene that definitely had the potential to catch some people’s attention.

Levi couldn’t be too sure. He didn’t want to survey his surroundings either so he narrowed his view to just his own love alarm and back at Rico. The latter went for her phone.

From his own angle, Levi couldn’t see her interface but he was familiar with the way she had swiped it, to know she had turned it off. The two love alarms continued to ring in the silence. Even with the tension and awkwardness so thick that made it difficult to slog through, his brain was still moving.

He was blessed with at least enough deduction skills to quickly figure it out for himself.

He was in love with someone else in the room. But who? He surveyed his surroundings, keeping his view closed to only one person at a time. That gave him enough time to brush away the rest of the stares that surfaced from having made such a scene with the harsh ring of the love alarm.

Only after scanning for a second longer did his spatial awareness catch up to him. The other ringing was coming from behind. Levi turned behind him, quickly enough to catch the mop of chestnut brown hair. Fortunately, he had been slow and careful enough to pull away at the last second, missing her forehead by a hair’s breadth.

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” That had been Levi’s first instinct. After all, he was still seeing red, just imagining their heads slamming into each other in the middle of a very silent cafe.

The brunette in front of him, put one finger to her masked mouth, pointing at one of the old fashioned signs just above her seat.

In silence, there is eloquence. It read.

Hange was a very eloquent person. Levi had read enough messages from her and stalked enough of her works to know that much. Any other day, maybe any other minute, he would have been happy to listen, learn a thing or two from the master of diplomacy.

But Hange had virtually come out of nowhere. In the middle of a date.

Giving her a onceover though, noting her masked face. The only two things that made her recognizable then was her mop of brown hair tied in a ponytail and her masked mouth. Still, that had been more than enough for Levi to have seen through it.

She had settled on the seat behind him. The way she looked back at him and the way she had seemed a little too relaxed with a half finished cup of coffee just in front of her, Levi was sure she had been there for a while.

How much did she hear? Levi couldn’t ask just yet. The alarms were still ringing and as soon as Levi turned it off on his end, it stopped. Yet people continued to stare. More importantly, Rico was still staring from behind him.

“Do you two know each other?” She asked.

The answer didn’t come as quickly for Levi as he would have wanted it too. They knew each other, they’ve met at least twice. They’ve eaten out together once. But technically, did it count as ‘knew?’ Did Hange feel the same way?”

“We’re colleagues, working on the same project,” Hange answered for him.

Levi almost instantly realized he liked that answer. Colleagues. It was definitely more intimate than ‘knew each other.’ While at the same time, it held more respect in one’s skills and talent than the word ‘friends.’ And it implied in its own little way that Hange cared about the project just as much as he did.

It had been difficult to muster a straight face then. Still, he pushed forward, nodding when he struggled to stifle the motions of his mouth and the blood that rushed to his face then.

“But the… the love alarm… it…” Rico continued to speak. She shifted her eyes quickly between both Levi and Hange. “And you…” Her eyes fixed on Hange then.

Levi followed her eyes instinctively. Did Rico recognize Hange? He couldn’t confirm it for himself. Soon after that, Rico didn’t say anything in response. Instead she blinked back surprise. She started to clean out her things and place them into her bag.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Levi wanted to pull her back. For a split second, he had reached out his hand, grasping his hand before pulling quickly back. He didn’t mind losing the chance at a second date. Just the thought of putting someone in such a tight and uncomfortable position had his stomach turning. He couldn’t for the life of him tell what she was thinking but he at least felt the tension.

Rico didn't have the most eloquent response either. “Sorry about this… I guess on my end it just feels wrong meddling in somebody else’s relationship… I don’t wanna be the one who’d stop people from getting together.”

Levi was quick to understand though. His thoughts flew back to Nanaba just a date ago and the long one sided counseling session which consisted of Nanaba’s long drawn monologues and Levi’s own grunts of understanding. The date which eventually ended with Nanaba finally figuring out for herself the best course of action.

You know, you’re right, Both of our love alarms rang. And that’s the whole point of this app right? If they both ring, it’s a sign, we should act on it.

And that was the whole point of the love alarm. How many times had he reviewed marketing material, love story commercials which ended with that same message?

Levi opened his mouth ready to speak up. By then, Rico was already out the door, any evidence of her presence just a second ago disappearing within seconds of her leaving. The chimes by the store entrance gradually slowed to a weak dance, the people who watched her leave eventually fell back to whatever they were doing beforehand, and Levi’s own protests had deadened into a light whisper.

It’s a bug. Besides, she’s married. The words had settled in his tongue like a familiar friend and he was sure if given the chance, he would have managed to say it loud and clear.

Levi looked back in his phone to see Rico had unmatched him, just a little too quickly.

“I think we should get that bug fixed soon,” Hange whispered. She sounded like she was stifling a laugh.

"For someone who's worried about the bug, you looked like you had a swell time ringing our alarms just a while ago," Levi said bitterly.

"Zeke's on a business trip and I'm bored and lonely."

“Well, don't take it out on me.” Levi took out his wallet and dropped the cash by the side of his drink, counting enough to pay for Rico’s drink too. He didn’t think too much about the receipt or the change.

The murmurs around him were more than enough to have him hurrying out of the cafe. Did they recognize Hange?

He thought it an appropriate time to satisfy his curiosity when they were both a good distance from the shop. “Do you think people recognize you as Zeke Jaeger’s partner?”

Hange put one finger to her mask. “I saw you outside the shop and when I thought of ringing your love alarm, I did what I could to prepare." Her eyes were still smiling though and Levi was sure there was a laugh behind that mask. "Besides, even though most people recognize Zeke, I don't think they'd notice me. I don’t join the interviews or events as much as he does,” Hange said.

Levi noticed though that Hange was the type to just get lost in her surroundings. Ort hat was at least what Levi had picked up on her the first few times they have gone together. She quickly relaxed after that short and quick question and answer, and in the way that she navigated through the crowds a little too clumsily yet a little too playfully, Levi found evidence backing up his mini theory.

Even if anybody did recognize her, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. And that little realization had made it much harder for Levi to stomach what just happened in the cafe. They needed to get the bug fixed fast. “Let’s go back to the office, maybe do some more testing.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here now?” Hange asked, pointing towards the general direction of their building. “I visited your office this morning because I didn't have much to doand I thought I could be helpful. You weren’t there so I asked around and one of the people from the support team told me you were out. She said probably in your favorite tea shop.”

“You met Petra?” Levi asked. “Redhead? Short?” He soon added, noting her confused expression.

Hange snapped her fingers. “Yes, that’s her name.”

“Yeah, she knows my favorite tea shop. Gets me my favorite mix of tea leaves every year for Christmas,” Levi said, more to fill the air with at least some conversation on the way back.

It took Levi a while to notice Hange had peeked at his face even as he averted his gaze, looking elsewhere.

She spoke up. “Say… Have you ever tried testing your love alarm on her?”

***

Petra was one of the newer employees, a little shy but particularly mature for her age. She was notably competent and had a particularly better handle of her emotions than most of the other colleagues. Her most important asset had been her level headedness even under the pressure of scrutiny. Petra was the type of person to know when she was attracted to someone and she was the type of person to admit it for the sake of a smoother testing process.

Thus, she was one of Levi's favorite volunteers when testing the love alarm.

And Levi was sure, to some degree she could have liked him. If he were to consider her words as truth, and the hearts at the bottom of the screen as some indication.

When they were testing every release on fifty employees over a one week period, putting results side by side with checklists and biometrics tests, they were as thorough as it could be. It was always the case that when it was the two of them testing with each other, Levi’s love alarm always rang, Petra’s didn’t. Every single time, Petra would tag that instance as ‘QA passed.’

It could have been a placebo effect or it could have also been just an admittance to get the testing process done just a little faster but Petra never seemed like the type, breezing through the awkward scenes that came with testing a love application like they were part of a job. If it ever bothered her, she never showed it.  

Levi’s alarm never rang in any of the tests he had ever taken anyway. When he double checked though, lining up the results side by side with checklists of what to look out for when one was in love, he found that it never had been a big deal. He had never been attracted to anyone in particular anyway.

“So, I’m the only one your love alarm rang with huh?” Hange asked.

Except maybe Hange.“Yeah, when doing QA work, I’ve had to test with the other employees and it never rang with any of them,” Levi admitted.

“How does QA work?”

“We test with employees, users… All on a volunteer basis if I may clarify.” Levi added that last part for just a touch of professionalism. “We have acceptable ranges for biometrics, checklists and we have a certain number of results which need to fit there to consider a release viable.”

“Why don’t we test using the QA procedure?”

“Because the QA process is a logistical nightmare. We plan a venue. We plan a schedule and we have to get a certain number of people to show up.”

“No, I meant… What if we try it, just the two of us. We answer the checklists, we take each other's biometrics and see if that falls in the exact range for ‘love'?” Hange suggested and her excitable tone only made it seem like she was suggesting something almost revolutionary.

Levi sighed. “I’d rather we use QA testing as a last resort.”

Hange’s face fell. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because…” Levi would have liked to leave it at that. As he looked at Hange who had leaned on the wall, crossing her arms and staring back at him expectantly, he remembered, it was a professional relationship. If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers so he settled for something seemingly acceptable yet very pathetic in the grand scheme of things. “We’re going to have to answer standardized psychology quizzes and take some physical tests.”

“And I’m sure you’d have a few samples lying around. Let’s see what information we can get,” Hange said.

There were other reasons Levi had been hesitant to suggest such an exam in the first place. It had been difficult to grasp for the exact reasons until they arrived in the conference room Levi had reserved.

The room was a vacuum that had the special power of just drowning out voices, footsteps from just outside the hallway. The tables were empty, the white board put away towards the side of the room. It was clean, empty, void of any presence or even trace of it. It made Levi just a little more painfully aware of his heartbeat, his moist palms and his wild uncoordinated breathing.

He might just fail the physical exam. More specifically, he might just fail if he took it then, at the exact moment.

Grasping for some win, or at the least some comfort in that situation, he had half the mind to run through the ‘Am I in love?’ checklist or at least what he remembered from it. If he were a little honest, there might have been some things he would have checked.

But it didn’t mean he would fail it right?

“What do you think?” Hange pressed. She had settled for one of the chairs in the room.

Levi had answers, but he couldn’t share it just yet. Inviting her to take that meant that he was entertaining the prospect that they might just be in love with her---a cursed prospect.

“Or do you have any other ideas?” Hange asked. She cocked her head to one side in thought.

“If you give me a little more time to come up with something…” Levi said.

“Petra told me you have a week or two before they release the next fix. You’ve done most of the coding work. You just need to fix this bug right?” Hange was very talkative. It turned out Petra had been just a little talkative too with the right prodding by Hange. “Why don’t you wanna just test it now?” Hange's face darkened then to something almost threatening.

And maybe Levi was a little intimidated. He quickly turned away, unable to control whatever expression would force itself out of him then.

“Levi?” Her voice was grating. The echoing in the room didn’t do much to help alleviate it. “Come on, please? I want this investment as much as you do.”

If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers.

But it didn’t have to be the correct answers. “Fine,” Levi said. “You know, maybe the way we test this application… the way we test for love might actually be flawed so maybe some feedback from a researcher like you could be useful.”

Hange grinned from ear to ear, the ominous face of a while ago just a memory Levi could probably forget. “So where do we start?”

***

Testing for the biological numbers was quick with the right tools.

Heart rate. Hormone levels. Stress Levels. Pain Sensitivity. They had all the right test kits on hand with a document detailing the acceptable range.

All reasonable levels, albeit a little too far from the midpoint that Levi held on to the possibility that maybe they could log it all in as some coincidence. The checklists were just a little more difficult and maybe Levi was just thinking a little too far off that he had started to have a mini identity crisis.

I think about my partner a few times a day.

Partner: Referring to the person one tests the application with. Levi was aware of that much having tested the application long before. Yet for some reason, he had to loudly remind himself of that, even within the confines of his mind.

He entertained hypotheses. If Hange were his partner, that would be polyamory and that could even start the scandal of the year, or even the decade. He didn’t want to be part of that.

So he ticked ‘never’ because technically Hange wasn’t his partner anyway.

I want to be with my partner everyday.

Hange was Zeke's partner. Just the idea of getting in between a married couple had Levi's stomach turning and it had been easy to tick never right next to it.

My partner trusts me.

It was too early to tell, or so that was what Levi told himself then.

The word ‘partner’ had been a convenient term. Zeke had been a convenient presence in his mind. And that had him ticking all the 'nevers' towards the edge of the page just a little more confidently.

Technically, Hange wasn’t his partner. Technically they just met, so words like trust, amicability, happiness, charisma, compatibility and charm, didn’t have to apply to them just yet. A few minutes later, he had checked enough ‘nevers’ to have armed himself with the confidence to look her in the eye.

Hange though wasn’t reciprocating, looking deep in thought with whatever question she had been answering. She bit her lip.

Hange eventually met his gaze. Instead of being just a little more satisfied, Levi was a little disappointed, more in himself than in anyone else. For that few seconds that Hange bit her lower lip in thought, her cheekbones had seemed fuller, her hazel eyes held an almost imperceptible yet still very enthralling glimmer, and regretfully, he didn’t take the time to relish it when it was right in front of him.

“How’s the test?” Levi asked.

“It’s fine,” Hange said.

Levi slid his own answers towards her. “We just have to calculate the number of ‘always,’ the number of 'sometimes,' the number of ‘nevers’ and just match it on the document over here.” He turned his laptop towards her.

“I can do it,” Hange said, pulling the laptop towards herself. The next few minutes passed in silence. Levi stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his heartbeat in time with the clack of the keyboard. Hange typed fast and chaotically but in a way, there was rhythm and order and that had helped him get into a position where he could just drop his shoulders and fall back on the chair behind him.

“You don’t think I trust you?” Hange asked.

“It’s too early to tell right?” Levi said. That answer had been scripted and it slipped out of his mouth easily.

Hange’s let out a light sound, a cross between with a hum and a chuckle. “Well, to tell you the truth, I put here that I didn’t trust you either.”

“Well that makes both of us, I guess,” Levi said.

Hange continued to type, filling the room with some predictable rhythm, a predictable rhythm his own wild heartbeat failed to provide. Eventually, it stopped, with one loud clack on the ‘enter’ button or at least, Levi guessed it was the enter button.

Soon after, Hange leaned back on the backrest of her own chair. “Biometrics all fall in the acceptable range. Test results all fall in the unacceptable range,” she said, her tone unreadable. Too professional but Levi surmised it could be her usual ‘research’ tone. He hadn’t known her long enough to be certain.

“Maybe we should get to know each other first and try to answer again?” Hange suggested. “We just met so I can’t fully trust you yet but I think, we could get along with the right…”

Environment? Amount of time? Mutual Processing? Levi couldn’t be too sure of the answer. She had said something else after the word ‘right’ or maybe she didn’t. Still, there was a problem that needed to be solved, there was an issue that needed to be addressed that extended beyond the need to resolve the feelings between two strangers.

Or two colleagues. Levi decided he liked the word colleagues better. “So what do you suggest Hange?” Levi asked.

“I wanna do further research with this application. We can tweak whatever processes you’re using now to QA, whatever processes you’re using to determine whether people are in love. Maybe we just have to fix that a bit.”

“This application took years to develop. It’s gonna be difficult to overturn a lot of the processes.”

“Without the right funding…” Hange said. She wagged her finger and gave Levi a knowing look.

Levi narrowed his eyes accusingly at Hange. “So how’s convincing Zeke been going?”

“That’s the caveat,” Hange said. “He’s not a very techy guy. He’s an investor and scientist more than anything and sometimes, even with the right proposition, he’ll stick to some really weird reasons why he wouldn’t invest in something. I don’t blame him though since millions of dollars are usually on the line with each investment.”

" So, I’m guessing you tried to convince him?”

Hange nodded. “I did. And it looks like he won’t budge unless you fix that ‘bug.’”

“The bug which caused his love alarm to not ring around you?” And the bug which is causing our love alarms to ring. Levi added silently to himself. “Can you explain to him that we need the money to continue improving the system?”

“I’ve been with him for years, Levi. I know how he is.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

Hange hummed. “I don’t know how programming works but...Maybe you can program the application to make it work just the way that Zeke likes it... For the time being?”

***

No. Just no.

Those were the words written all over Petra’s expression. Levi only had to look at the other faces around him to be very much sure, everyone agreed with Petra

For posterity’s sake, he repeated those words. “I understand that the regression test is done but unless I am able to get to the bottom of this bug, we won’t be able to release the fixes,” Levi said. He kept his words soft, yet still loud enough to echo through the conference room. He said it slowly and clearly. Just in case it was a bit harder to hear through shock and surprise.

“Sir, a lot of the fixes in this release have been promised for months,” Petra argued. The professionalism in her voice was still admirably apparent.

“Erwin’s orders. I’m just repeating them now,” Levi said.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Gunther asked. “Have you found the reason behind it? I’m guessing if you do… we might have to make some changes to the code and go through regression testing again.”

“If ever that happens, I’ll handle the testing on my end,” Levi said. “It wouldn't be too hard, it’s just a blip in the code.”

“So you’ve found the cause?” Eld asked.

“Yes.” If Levi didn’t open his mouth to speak then, he was sure no one would have for the next few minutes. There was something festering in the silence, some common sentiment that he sensed among them, among those doubtful faces tinged with irritation and confusion.

He had always told them before. Always assume a user error first. And there was an apparent user error which he was sure everyone was entertaining.

What if Hange just didn’t love Zeke? A prospect that was ambrosia to Levi’s lips but at the same time a piece of ambrosia that he was sure was laced with poison. He couldn’t chew it, he couldn’t swallow for fear of just letting go for a few seconds longer, letting a smile curl up his lips during the most inopportune times.

Levi turned to Oluo in particular who he guessed would have been the one most likely to bring it up. The latter remained begrudgingly silent. It looked like no one else wanted to bring it up either. After all, Zeke was a huge opportunity for company growth, a huge opportunity for investment.

Eld spoke up.“If there’s anything we can do, just please ask. It might be too difficult of an investigation to do for one person.”

Levi shook his head. “I think this is an investigation I’d rather do alone.” There were parts of the investigation he hadn’t admitted to the team yet. All they had gotten in the report from Erwin was that Zeke’s alarm didn’t ring with Hange there but the scandal of their alarms ringing together was something he didn’t want circulating around the building.

And more importantly, there was another plan he and Hange have been entertaining, an almost unscrupulous scheme and he didn’t want anyone else involved.

***

It felt like he had run a marathon and he had been doing that slow jog for at least three days already. Or maybe it felt like he was trudging through a dessert and had been trapped there for the past three days.

He couldn’t tell for sure but his throat was constantly dry, his heart was constantly beating fast and any notification from Hange was either a water break or an oasis.

Three days ago, Zeke came back from his business trip. Four days ago, Levi sent the apk file to Hange.

“It’s a test build,” Levi said as soon as she confirmed she received it. “A test build I hard coded just for Zeke’s use.”

“Meaning…”

“Just say it’s a test build. Say I’ve fixed the code.”

“Meaning…”

“I hardcoded his data and the expected result. If he opens the alarm around you, his phone will ring," Levi explained. "It’s just a quick fix for now.”

Just a quick fix. Levi told himself multiple times. He had changed the code drastically enough though that the love alarm wouldn’t work as an expected love alarm, having customized it just to fit Zeke’s desires. For just long enough to get the money and long enough to find the actual cause of the bug.

“And tell him we’re asking for feedback before we release it,” Levi had added then.

The last time he had met her was three days ago when he dropped her the file, explained its use and when she had promised to download the apk file to Zeke’s phone.

She sent intermittent updates over the four day period. He liked it. He was enjoying it. He had confidence in the application.

Levi had to ruefully note though that the conversation never strayed too much from work. As expected from colleagues, as expected from business partners working towards the same goal.

Maybe a few times he had asked some vague questions just to get a hint of her daily life.

How’s Zeke? How are you guys?

Still, the answers always went back to updates on the application. When he was trudging to the desert or while running through some dirt track in his mind, even when the water tasted too artificially like plastic---too professional for his taste---he settled for it.

That was the only water he had after all.

Hange limited herself to ten messages a day, mentioning something about being bad at replying, apologizing for late replies. Levi had to admit though when he was working, he was guilty of a similar thing. Yet he found himself just a little irritable, a little desolate at such an outcome.

A week after he had last seen Hange, he decided to start reading the books about love again.

Love is a choice. Overused.

To love others, one must love themselves. He got that already.

Levi dropped his reader by the side of his bed and stared at the blank ceiling above him. The books on love were biased. They created for themselves an assumption, an assumption that she was his and whatever he had to deal with was some inner turmoil inside him, an inability to love. But what if he was willing to love? What if it was just a matter of circumstances just not letting him indulge in such an emotion.

He had entertained that for just a second before brushing away the nagging thought and the annoyingly sticky guilt that clung to it. Maybe there was merit in just turning off his emotions then, just discarding the overall idea of love. He deleted the books Hange had sent him from his ebook reader.

If the company got the funds, if Hange got the greenlight on her research, he would see her again, he would be forced to read those books and they would be forced to work together.

Then and there, he didn’t need to think about it just yet. He didn’t have to put himself through the pain of analyzing circumstances and emotions that left a heavy weight and an ache in his chest.

He could forget Hange until then. He could ignore her messages and maybe focus on something else like an action movie or a video game. He had streaming service subscriptions, he had game emulators on his laptop. Soon he discovered, with the right combination of focus, willpower just getting through slow starts, it was easy to immerse himself in something as mundane as a city building game.

He was halfway through building one of his farms and was already attached to the regular city goers of the small city he created for himself when his phone rang. That abrupt and grating sound had been enough of a reminder, Levi still wasn’t completely over being sad. He quickly reached for the phone on the side of his bench in an ungraceful and seemingly desperate chain of motions that had him almost ashamed of himself.

His laptop had been one of the victims, toppling over to the side of the bed but by god’s grace it had only skimmed the edges before laying flat on its side.

Levi muttered a soft curse. This message better be worth it. And the only message he decided would be worth it, would be a message from Hange which didn’t involve that stupid application.

Leviiiiiii are you free? :))))))))))

Free when? Levi was quick to reply. Now? Tomorrow? Next week? Really, he was always free, it was just a matter of asking for a leave and opening his schedule. He didn’t want to seem so pathetic as to tell her that though

Long weekend this weekend so Zeke offered to take us south to one of our country clubs.

Us?

Erwin is coming too. Levi didn't’ know whether to feel relieved or disappointed at that exposition. Before he could reply though, the messages kept coming.

Think of it as a thank you for the app ;)

And a start to a great partnership ;)

Hange had too many smileys, too many winky faces but recently, she had started to pepper her messages with just a little too much. They were colleagues, very friendly colleagues. For a second, he wondered how many smileys Hange used when messaging Zeke.

Still, Levi saw some glimmer of hope and optimism in the fact that they were creating a special bond in their own way.

And who would he be to turn down a special invite from a special colleague. I’ll see you there then :) He added his own smiley in the end, trying to forget the fact that he had wasted a good few seconds vacillating between the winking smiley face and the normal one.

Hange’s reply came quickly and maybe a little more enthusiastically. Okay! We’ll pick you up Friday night at the office :D

Levi was grateful at least he had something to look forward to.

[hermannsthumb]

If you're still taking requests!! Fake Dating situation where Newt and Hermann go to a public event together. they're used to being mistaken for a couple at the Shatterdome, so they expect to be mistaken for a couple at the event. But then they meet someone who definitely Does Not mistake them for a couple (because homophobia) and assumes they're just Very Good Friends. cue Newt and Hermann aggressively pretending to be a couple.

always and forever taking requests!!! this is such a fun one, THANK YOU

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“We’ll have to go in eventually,” Newt says.

Next to him, Hermann silently fumes, apparently unable to decide whether to continue tugging at his stiff collar or grinding the bottom of his cane—over and over, in a sort of circle—against the sidewalk, leaving streaks of black rubber behind. “I hate these damn things,” he says under his breath, though it’s unclear whether he means his outfit or the event. Hermann’s dressed up tonight in a suit that’s hilariously oversized (even for him) and fraying in places, with a bowtie that he’s knotted crookedly. Newt wonders if the suit’s a hand-me-down from his brother. “Begging for funding, as if we haven’t anything better to do with our time. As if we’re not working for the better of all of them. It’s bloody degrading.” He works his jaw angrily. “And if that isn’t enough—everyone always makes—assumptions—about us.”

Oh, okay. The event. “Assumptions?” Newt says.

Hermann lets out a hiss of air between his teeth. “Assumptions,” he repeats, delicately. “About—ah—the certain nature of our relationship.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Oh.”

At the last one of these things they went to, someone (actually generous enough to open their checkbook for once) asked Hermann whether they should make it out to the PPDC or Dr. Gottlieb and his husband. At the one before that, a dinner event, the name placards at their table said Dr. Newton Geiszler-Gottlieb and Dr. Hermann Geiszler-Gottlieb. Before that, at a more casual affair at an up-scale bar, some tech hottie sent Newt a martini, before hurrying over and apologizing in person that (gesturing between Newt and Hermann) he didn’t realize Newt was with someone. Newt really wishes Hermann would just get it through his head already that introducing someone as your partner and dropping the important research part of it tends to hold drastically different connotations outside of, like, the group of people who know them on the Shatterdome base, because that would clear up probably sixty percent of the confusion. If not just so he can pick up a few numbers at these things for once. Still, though—for some reason it’s never really bothered him like it clearly bothers Hermann, but Newt supposes he’s not exactly a catch by any standards, so it makes sense. “I just don’t know where they get the impression—” Hermann begins, and Newt interrupts him.

“Yeah, well, you should take it as a compliment,” he says. “You could do a lot worse than me.” He opens the door for Hermann and ushers him in. “Seriously, we’ll be late if we don’t go in now, and that makes it, like, twice as awkward.”

As usual, they have to sit through some incredibly boring speech about how they’re sitting among some of the best scientific minds of the century right now, how they’re honored to play host to their colleagues at the PPDC, how the buffet will opening shortly for dinner, and then a different person gets up and makes another speech, and then another person with another, until finally the first person gets back up and promises that closing remarks will be in three hours, and how they should all enjoy themselves until then. Claps. Under his breath, Newt says to Hermann, “Doubt it.”

“Which side shall I take, then?” Hermann sighs. He’s probably the only one in the room not clapping. He told Newt a while ago that he doesn’t like to put on airs, and especially not in the service of flattering someone’s ego, and he’ll only clap for a speech if he feels it deserves it. He’s such a weirdo.

Newt surveys the room, considering. Luckily, people tend to flock together in similar little groups at these things. Birds of a feather shit. “Left. Everyone on the right is too young and hip-looking, so that’s out of your range.” He gets a cane to his shin, and grins even has he winces. “Kidding. Let’s just do it together, it’ll make it more bearable.”

Their first target is a forty-something marine biologist who’s very excited to meet Newt— “I followed your research on jellyfish for years!” she says. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight!” —and who is more than happy to promise donating a little to help fund the war effort. Their next is someone younger than both of them, whom Newt suspects is heir to his dad’s tech company or something, and who is easily guilted into promising even more than the biologist. “We’re having a lot better luck than usual,” Newt says, as they watch the kid hurry away to mingle with a group of other twenty-somethings. “Do we look more, like, respectable tonight or something?”

“It’s the open bar,” Hermann says.

“Yeah, probably,” Newt agrees.

“And anyway, we’re still terribly behind on our goal, so there’s no use getting too pleased over ourselves,” Hermann says. He sniffs. “If you still want that bloody—whatever it was—kaiju spleen, we need at least—”

“Okay, okay,” Newt says.

He nods at a small group standing by one of the buffet tables, holding half-eaten plates. People tend to be in better moods when they’ve eaten something. Hopefully more generous moods too. “Let’s try them,” he says.

Hermann is the one to initiate the conversation this time, launching at once into a variation of the little script he and Newt penned so long ago the night before their very first gala. “Good evening,” he says. They get a few polite smiles and nods of acknowledgement in return. “I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, and this is my partner—” Newt tries not to groan. “—Dr. Newton Geiszler. We’re here representing the PPDC tonight. I don’t suppose we could have a moment of your time?”

The mood of the group changes immediately, but why Newt can’t figure out; it’s like they suddenly go hostile on them. Hostile, and tense. Newt is suddenly astutely aware of how each of the three dudes have a good few inches on both him and Hermann. “The PPDC?” the guy in front says. He's not smiling anymore. Maybe they all supported the jaeger program defunding or something. “Sure.”

“Er,” Hermann says. He clears his throat. “Newton—that is, my partner and I work for the kaiju research division at the PPDC’s Hong Kong base. As you may well be aware, the latest cuts to the PPDC’s budget have been quite dev—”

“So you and your friend,” the guy says, with a little more emphasis on the friend than Newt would like, “are going around asking for donations? To help buy pencils or something?”

“Well. Essentially,” Hermann says. He doesn’t seem to have picked up on what Newt did, though he grows visibly nervous anyway. Outright hostility isn't anywhere near as common as indifference at these sorts of things. “Though, pencils is—er—a vast understatement.” He casts a furtive, desperate glance at Newt—a help me if Newt ever saw one. “My partner—Dr. Geiszler—simply doesn’t have enough funding for the samples he needs to study—and donations would certainly help with our funding for other necessary supplies—"

“I sure we’d love to help you and your friend,” the same guy says, and there’s no missing the emphasis this time, “but we’re a little busy at the moment. Please come back and talk to us later, though.”

Hermann clamps his mouth shut. Newt narrows his eyes, and in a move bold enough to surprise even himself, snags Hermann’s arm and links his own with it. “Sure thing,” he says loudly. Hermann goes rigid and stiff under him. “Come on, babe, let’s get something to eat. I know how you get when you’re hungry.” Then, before he can stop himself, he brushes a single kiss at Hermann’s cheek, and tries not to laugh at the looks they get.

He waits until they’re out of eyesight (Newt having had to sort of drag Hermann along with him) to drop Hermann’s arm. Hermann hasn’t moved a muscle since Newt touched him, and even now, he just sort of blinks at Newt. “What on Earth—?”

“Dude,” Newt says. “That guy was a total jerk. He thought we were together, and—”

“He did not,” Hermann says. “He kept calling you my ‘friend’. It was a bloody nice break from what usually happens, I might add, and now you’ve gone and—”

“Hermann,” Newt says. He sighs. “You’re, like, totally missing my point. He thought we were together.”

“But he called you—”

“Yeah, exactly,” Newt says.

Hermann blinks a few more times. “Ah,” he says.

“No way in hell do we need his money,” Newt says. “Anyway, sorry about the—” He touches Hermann’s cheek, and then gestures to Hermann’s left arm, which is now just sort of hanging limply at Hermann’s side. “I just wanted to screw with him. I won’t do it again, though—”

“No!” Hermann says quickly. The tips of his ears go red, and he fumbles as he grabs Newt’s arm again. A sudden warmth situates itself like pressure over Newt’s chest, identical to the kind that’s creeping up his wrist where Hermann’s fingers just grazed his bare skin, and he’s struck with the sudden bizarre urge to duck his head and blush himself. Since when has Hermann had this kind of effect on him? “What I meant to say is—” Hermann licks his wide lips. “He might still see us. We ought to—to keep up the ruse.”

“To really screw with him?” Newt says.

“For what other reason?” Hermann says.

Newt forces himself to keep a smooth, neutral expression as Hermann unwinds his arm to lace their fingers together instead, with a lot more awkward fumbling. “Uh-huh,” he says. He remembers how soft and smooth Hermann’s cheek had felt, so unlike his own, which can never seem to hold a clean shave. How nice Hermann's hand feels in his now. He’s definitely going to have to unpack this later. “Yeah, that’s—good idea, Hermann. Let’s do that.”