#i can curse all i want now though so yippee!!! i can say fuck and not get jumpscared by noises

[trenchcoatsbi]

ohhh where to START

so my grian kin is basically yandere, evo, life, and hermitcraft meshed into one weirdly coherent timeliene! HOWEVER, hermitcraft seasons were the same yet different for a few reasons, alot is too much to put in one ask so ill break up the infodump

heres the thing with death in that timeline, there was the server and the ‘outside world’. on server you could die however many times you wanted, but on the outside world you got the regular one life we have here. servers were basically pocket dimensions that only certain people could make!

there was also this thing with the reincarnation cycle, where alot of people (mostly players) who died and reincarnated looked and acted the same/similarly, but had no memory of their past life. there were only a handful of people who could remember their past lives perfectly (scar was one of them. somehow. i dont know)

anyways i think xisuma was one of the people who could remember every life bc each season was a new life for the hermits that werent immortal and he kept inviting the same people anyways

-pac anon

oh that is so intriguing... gears are turning in my head... raghgh i love hearing about memories.

uh uhm i will give you a memory in exchange for giving me this to read. for me i uh remember HC a lot of different ways because I have a few kintypes from it but i think the funniest thing I remember is the fact that in one of my helsmit canons the server had a fucking actual built in swear censor? like it'd play a loud bleep/ringing noise (well okay the ringing noises might've been from the fact that I fucked up my hearing playing around with tnt but that's an entirely different story) if you cursed and i fucking hated it so much. that damn thing drove me insane. and whats worse is some other helsmits found a way to get around it and just never told me cause they thought it was funnier leaving me to suffer with it. I hate those fuckers so much (<- I miss them so bad)

[mxstellatayte]

hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

[sunlitlemonade]

YOU WATCH F1 TOO?!?!?!?!???????!?? RAHHHHHHHHH🏎🏎🏎🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 can we plz get thoughts on drivers 👀🥺🙏🫣🫣🫣🫦

anon i know you sent this sometime around suzuka but that last emoji made me laugh every time i tried answering this. as for the drivers......... sigh. I'm swinging a very bedazzled bat at a swarming hornets' nest. pray for me.

under the cut because i yapped a LOT. also. uh. possible slander. so like.

Red Bull Racing

Max Verstappen: starting off strong here with my favourite guy of all time. He's Inevitable™. He's fast. He's amazing. He's sweet and blunt and gorgeous and I want everything good for him. He's phenomenal, he moves me, he makes it's so easy to root for him and yet, it's incredibly taxing to be a fan given the British bias in F1 journalism and the fandom, not to mention FIA occasionally losing it's goddamn mind.

Sergio 'Checo' Perez: I'm actually so fond of him. His recent performances leave more to desired, I know, but fuck if he isn't the funniest mf around. Also it's simply a matter of time when he gets back in form [the bias is STRONG here I'm aware]. Also he's an extremely good second driver because I for one think he knows how to handle a team built around his teammate. I don't think any other driver on the current grid would have gelled with Max and Red Bull's structure [and strategy to win] the way Checo has.

Ferrari

Charles Leclerc: Il Predestinato. Saint Leclerc. Curse bearer and curse breaker. He's made to be a dream. He can make the hopeless hope. I know I said Max is generational talent but we're quite lucky to be in this era where we have not one, but TWO generational talents because Charles..... this guy..... you have to be blind to not see the sheer talent and insanity this man holds. Ferrari get your shit together istg. I need a Verstappen - Leclerc WDC fight. IT WILL BE GLORIOUS.

Carlos Sainz: *cough* ok, so, I wanna start off by saying I do think he's a chill guy off-track, ok? I really do think that. He's funny, quick, hot [ofc]. As a driver though. I just. He's good --not as good as F1 media wanted you to believe after his win in Australia and the circumstances surrounding it [WDC material??? Any GP winner now is considered WDC material??? ok]-- but he whines A LOT and I would actually prefer if his aggressiveness on track is directed less at his own teammate and more on their opposition? That would be cool. Plus sometimes he forgets it's not 'yippee we are all friends haha' all the time and inevitably fires up when someone serves cunt on track and he's bearing the brunt of it. I call it the Mclaren syndrome if anyone is interested.

Mclaren

enough said [ignore the shit quality i grabbed the first template i could find sjskdjfke]

Mercedes

George Russell: HES SUCH A HILARIOUS DIVA!!!! WHO DOESNT LOVE THIS GUY?? He's so entertaining and fun and he is a very good driver! I feel like we still have yet to see all he can achieve and I am very excited to see what happens next.

Lewis Hamilton: Legend. I truly have nothing else to add. Forget his fanbase, forget his tunnel vision when it comes to winning [and this applies to almost every driver, most of all my favourite ones lol], he's seven time world champion for a reason. Since we're asking for my opinions here though, I'll tell you this: anytime he wins I'm happy enough to see it [though I will forever want to see my favs on P1], any time he doesn't I don't care much, if he has a bad race I will give it less notice- basically, he exists in the periphery of my vision. I have been in awe of him for years and admire him but I cannot call myself a fan. One thing I can't help but obsess over is how cunty and unapologetic he is [which is also something that I love about Max].

Alpine

Esteban Ocon: He's a good driver, he's grinded hard to be here in F1 and I love to see it. Also, he's geek! In my books, that's always a plus.

Pierre Gasly: He's actually one of the most unremarkable drivers on the grid currently. Like there's nothing wrong with him and every time he pops up in interviews or whatever he's fun to see but that's about it? Honestly he seems like a cool guy, a driver okay enough but doesn't stand out much to me in anyway skdjhsjd

Sauber

Valtteri Bottas: THE MOST UNDERRATED DRIVER EVER MAYBE????? I love this dude and I'm hoping he can get something better than the tractor he has this season, as unlikely as it is.

Zhou Guanyu: Again, he's a nice enough driver and I really enjoy his vibe but he's crawling on the track in the tractor Sauber cooked up and I don't really know what to think of him beyond what I have stated.

Aston Martin

Fernando Alonso: Anyone who has a problem with Mr. Alonso has a problem with me. This is a strict Alonso Stan account, I do not take criticism and idc what anyone else has to say about him. He's a legend, he's an icon, he's the spirit of F1. I'm quite literally obsessed with him. You know what. Max is the Only One for me BUT if Fernando happened to win a 3rd title........... Did you know that Adrian Newey was recently acquired by Aston Martin [MAKE IT HAPPEN NEWEY].

Lance Stroll: idc. truly idc. some hate this guy, some love him. im at the camp of idgaf. just complete indifference.

Haas

Kevin Magnussen: If you've noticed anything by now, it's that I love love love track terrors. Not the stupid bitches who divebomb everyone all the time and start barking when it happens to them. Nah, the ones who race. I fucking love them. I love Kevin. Hoping against hope that he gets a seat somewhere next year, I will miss him so much. He's incredible to watch. God. I will actually miss him so much. Fuck.

Nico Hulkenberg: Another underrated driver, he's actually quite skillful and entertaining to watch. I just wish he had better luck like 😭

VCARB

Daniel Ricciardo: I miss him. His performances had waned and yeah, it had been time for him to go but I will still miss him and idk man I will admit I wasn't his biggest fan a while back, which had hurt because at some point, years back, he was the main reason why I watched the sport at all. But he had slowly wormed himself back in my heart and fuck. His last race actually made my chest clench ngl. He was absolutely amazing.

Liam Lawson: Consider me sat. I'm SO curious to see how he performs. We know he's got potential but just how far can he stretch?

Yuki Tsunoda: How many times have I used the word 'love' already? I'm sorry but what else can I say? I genuinely love this fella. He's so good and exciting to watch on track and also, plain funny. I wish for everything good to happen to him.

Williams

Alex Albon: infatuated with his billion dollar smile. Now that that's out of the way let me also just say HES SUNLIGHT INCARNATE, also I COULD LISTEN TO HIM YAP FOREVER. Idk I'm actually really happy for him because he seems to be flourishing at Williams and I mean this in the best way possible: he shines at a midfield team. [Also, note me saying he's sunshine doesn't negate just how fucking sly & sassy he can be. I adore that about him.]

Franco Colapinto: MY BELOVED. I perk up like a sunflower under the sun when I see him. He's such an intriguing driver. I detect hints of track terrorism abilities brewing here and cannot wait to see more of it. Also! He's so refreshing to listen to. I know like 80 percent of the grid is no-nonsense and transparent but man idk how to say this. He's a fucking comedian. Not a thought that has any sort of filter at all in that pretty little head of his. Just. No PR training at all here.

Logan Sargent: This boy. He did not deserve even a smidgen of what he had to tolerate. I actually detest the collective treatment from the fandom and his own fucking team that he had to constantly weather. I hope whatever racing division he advances to, he fucking demolishes. I hope he has so much fun winning. I miss him and his reserved smiles.

Special mention:

Oliver Bearman: I mean he raced twice this season, I can't skip over him just like that. Anyways, he's a BABY [< girl who's half a year older than him sjedhbwje] and I WANT HIM TO DO GOOD. He's done relatively well till now in the limited time on track [in F1] we've seen him, we'll have to wait and watch how he does next year. This F2 season for him has been... eh but like I get why.

[silkentragedies]

A boyfriend sounds good, but…

Non idol! Jung Wooyoung x fem! Reader

3.1k words, Highly suggestive at best, making out, FLUFF, E2L vibes, College AU

Warnings: Mentions of STDs, making out. ( This is so self-indulgent it’s horrible lmao- also, not explicit at all.)

This piece of fiction does not reflect the actions of the real-life Jung Wooyoung. Not meant for minors. 

College was supposed to be late night parties and hurried submissions, overdosing on caffeine and woefully unedited essay compilations. College was supposed to be hellish hangovers and greasy weekend brunches in bed, helter-skelter running to part-time jobs and missing classes with snoozed alarms.

You got all of that, of course, but you also got one thing you didn’t ask for, in fact, wished beyond wishes that it wouldn’t happen but of course, your guardian angel was up to some mischief: You got yourself an archenemy.

Jung fucking Wooyoung.

It all started off small, of course; bumping into each other rather violently in the hallways on orientation day ended with your coffee on the floor. Minor detail- his phone had also dropped on the floor.

You apologized profusely- he seemed like an upperclassman with his leather jacket, slim but solid build, a head of double-toned hair and oh were those tattoos peeking out of his collar- no point in causing a ruckus on the first day. You even offered to pay for the damage. 

And then he opened his mouth. 

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

The sheer annoyance in his tone rubbed you the wrong way- obviously you had to respond, you weren’t the only one at fault- 

“Sorry, but you weren’t watching where you were going either. So don’t tout the blame to me-”

“Oh, whatever, just keep your money. I can get it fixed myself.”

The audacity of this bi-

“Good for you then, because my offer is off the table now, pretty boy.” 

A smirk curled up his lip- “You think I’m pretty?”

“About as pretty as a skunk, especially with that hair.”

You had to tamp down the urge to childishly stick your tongue out at his bemused, mildly annoyed expression before walking past him.

 Lamenting the loss of your morning coffee, you hurried your way to the orientation venue. At Least he was an upperclassman. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to deal with him-

“Did you see that hot guy in the leather jacket and that black-blonde hair ?”

Fuck’s sake. 

“His name’s Jung Wooyoung and apparently all the upperclassmen already have an eye on him. He’s in our major so we really lucked out, hot guys-wise.”

Fuck’s sake.

Surely you could just avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist?

But no.

Jung fucking Wooyoung turned out to be the apple of the campus’ eye in a matter of 2 weeks. He was as new to the university as the rest of you and yet, managed to look more put together, cooler than the rest of you still struggling to figure out class numbers and professor names.

He was the upperclassmen darling- people drooled over him, wanted to befriend him, and invite him to all the big parties…

and fuck- even the teachers were already wrapped around his infuriating pinky finger. They allowed him to waltz into class 25 minutes late, smile his infuriating innocent smile and chill in the back row, scot fucking free.

A month in, he’d gotten into the Dance Club too-  cementing his legendary status in the university. It was unheard of, after all, for a freshman to get into the unattainable Dance Club in his first attempt. 

You happened to visit one of the club’s performances one weekend and even you couldn’t ignore the sheer talent he radiated. It only infuriated you more to watch Wooyoung hog the stage’s spotlight with almost no effort- all perfect lines, sharp and clean movements…

It’s fine, you could still ignore his existence

But no.

Another thing about Jung Wooyoung- he found sick pleasure in annoying the living daylights out of you. 

It was so juvenile, so high-school, so immature of him- sticking gum in your hair, snapping your bra strap, kicking the back of your chair, striking up nonsense debates with you in class…

And then he had the nerve to laugh in your face when you glared at him with hellfire in your eyes because you were too polite to lash out in front of a professor.

Of course, you exhibited no such restraint outside the classroom.

“You vs Woo” was a commonplace explanation for the commotions that blazed up in the campus courtyard every other day. You were like wolves, the way you snarled at each other, not hesitating to slash at each other with as many cutting words as you could find. 

This went on for months, an entire semester marred by an enmity that seemed to stem from nothing- until one day, mister Jung Wooyoung really fucked up.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? FACE ME, YOU COWARDLY WORM!” Your angry yelling and thudding on the door had Wooyoung’s roommates Yeosang and… Choi San? running to open the door to their shared dorm room. 

You barged into Wooyoung’s room, unplugging the game he was playing. “What the fuck-”

“You dirty fucking bastard. You shameless shitstain of a fucking human being-” 

Slap. Wooyoung reeled back. In all this time, you’d never actually hit out at him physically. It had always been words. Maybe this time he crossed a line?

“You told Changbin I had a fucking STD. THE GALL OF YOU-” You lashed out at him with every few words, pushing Wooyoung further back against the back wall of his room. 

“How fucking dare you make assumptions about me like that. you lowlife scumbag.” You snarled in his face, now having him trapped between you and the wall.

You were smaller than him by quite a bit- it was almost amusing to see Wooyoung cowering in front of you, lowkey terrified of what you’d throw at him next. 

“Okay okay, fuck, I’m sorry!” He burst out finally, cutting you right across your angry rant. “I didn’t mean it like that!! I swear, I didn’t even know you were the one he was talking about. And I only told him to be safe from STDs, not that anybody had one.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe you, Jung,” You screeched. “You’ve always been a dick in general to me. I wouldn’t put it past you to say something like that and lie to my face about it.”

You back away, almost disgusted at being so close to him, “Seriously, dude. Get fucked.” Flipping him off before leaving, you turn around to look at him still standing where you’d backed him up to, an evil glint in your eye.

“It will be so fucking unfortunate if somebody told the campus gossip blog you had erectile dysfunction and your hookups were all fake.”

\

Safe to say, Wooyoung never made digs at your sexual activity again.

Neither did he have much sexual activity of his own for a while. Not that there was much sexual activity in your case either.

Maybe it was that exact…starvation that led Wooyoung to behave the way he did.

What was juvenile teasing became more… flirtatious?

Oh gods, what the fucking fuck is going on-

Suddenly, it wasn’t gum in your hair, it was soft whispers against your ear, breath warm against your cheek

It wasn’t kicking the back of your chair, it was leaning in front of you to fistbump Lee Felix on the other side of you until you could smell his intoxicating chocolate-honey-sweat scent.

He’d taken to taking his leather jacket off and sitting through classes (he still turned up late for) in a muscle t shirt that showed off his toned arms- 

All of his movements now seemed to be designed to tease the crawling under your skin you hadn’t been able to quench recently-

Not that you were a serial hookup kinda person, but you’d been fairly sexually active until semester exams and Wooyoung’s rumors had brought around quite a dry spell for you.

It was like every action of his sparked something wildfire hot in your head, tension stringing your senses into overdrive- were you imagining it?

Wooyoung was having some troubles with said crawling under-skin himself. 

Since when did you wear skinny jeans like that to class? Did you always have such a pretty neck, just waiting to get marked up? Did you always have that sway to your hips when you walked out of class?

The forced abstinence was doing bad things to him. 

It did rather amuse him, however, when he could see your breath catch a little from his murmurings in your ear, or squirm in your seat when he spoke to Felix before the professor arrived. It was the little things, truly. 

You still fought like a cat and dog though- there was no way the two of you would ever let on that your scope of noticing each other had gone beyond annoyance and rivalry a while ago. 

//

“Fuck no. I’m not doing this fucking project with you. It’s worth half the fucking grade and you’re a numbskull when it comes to this subject.”

“Like I want to deal with you anymore than I have to, sweetheart. You’re pretentious enough in class as it is.” 

Fate really loved playing the cliche card with you- of course you got paired up with Wooyoung for one of your semester projects. 

No, it definitely wasn’t the teacher that saw you two glaring more at each other more than the whiteboard and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Of fucking course the teacher refused to allow switching of partners or individual grading- it had to be a team effort or you’d both fail the subject. As a team. Yippee-ki fucking yay.

So you two ended up in the library at 11 p.m, two nights before your first check point review, having procrastinated the fuck out of working together until the last possible minute.

Amidst cursing at each other and cups of ramen and iced americano, the two of you found yourself stuck with each other and attempting to build the basis of an acceptable report to present. 

Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung wasn’t entirely a lost cause when it came to the subject. He actually made sizable contributions to the report. He even got you some coffee on his break, despite the jibes and taunts you threw at him about going soft- you were the type to hold a grudge.

You were both wandering down the shelves in the library, looking for more references when Wooyoung decided to open his big mouth again.

“You do realize that shitty rumor you put out didn’t really mess with my prospects, right?” Wooyoung was so full of shit. “If anything, I’d be worried about you, sweetheart.”

There it was again. Sweetheart. Another of those taunting things that just riled you up in all the wrong(right) ways. It was like he knew everything you would go weak for and then shamelessly exploited them all.

“Unlike you, Wooyoung, I don’t need people to stroke my ego…or anything else. I can get myself going just fine.”

“If you did know how to stroke anybody’s anything, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have trouble getting some.”

Ohhh, so he wants to play some games!!! Okay then-

You reached out to flick at his ponytail, ever-so slightly enamoured by how well he pulled off the double-toned look.

“Like you know anything about how to please in bed, babe.” 

It was unfair how much that nickname falling from your lips affected Wooyoung. Some…not very appropriate thoughts had already taken root in his brain and you running your mouth was not helping at all. 

“Good enough for them to beg, sweetheart.” 

A soft crow of laughter escaped you as you turned to fully face him, the both of you standing between the Greek Architecture and Geography sections.

“You sure you weren’t the one doing the begging?” 

“Oh, really now?”

You really should’ve thought through what was leaving your mouth 

Because now you were wedged between the shelves and Wooyoung’s (unfairly) toned body, his arms caging you in with that signature shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned closer to you- 

The tension was almost atrocious now, suffocating you when it had only previously nudged at you. You could feel it settle under your skin, in your veins, fingers itching to reach out and pull him closer 

But you kept your hands braced against the shelves- you would not give him the satisfaction of making the first move yourself…right? 

Fuck, you really wanted to though- 

It had be the late hour leaving you with lesser inhibitions than normal or possibly the pent up horny in your system or maybe the questionable direction your conversation was headed in

There was no other plausible reason for your arch nemesis’ lips to look that inviting

It must’ve been the way your attention flitted from his eyes to his lips that gave you away, a momentary lapse of self-control before you looked away, off to some point behind his shoulders-

And he smirk only widens

“You know, nobody really visits this corner of the library.”

“Your point?”

Both your voices were whispers now, your bodies close enough to touch but not quite, Wooyoung’s face a few inches away from yours and holding your gaze 

(He had honey flecks in those dark eyes, 7 on one side and 4 on the other, like gold leaf in coffee)

“We could easily find out who begs for who…”

He still hadn’t touched you yet, his hands placed on the shelf on either side of you- you could move out from the space if you so wished-

Despite the tension between the both of you, it seemed like… like he was waiting for you to make the first move, voice your consent, act on it 

How considerate, you thought to yourself as you let your sight wander to either side, checking for people 

Surprising you found Jung Wooyoung’s one possible redeeming quality like this, mind hazy and barely restraining yourself from kissing the living daylights out of him- 

Oh well, fuck it

A soft sound left Wooyoung as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to yours, lips meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss

How dare he be a good kisser too?

One hand reached up to cup your cheek and you instinctively tilted your head into the warmth of his palm as the kiss deepened

Unfair that he could take your breath away so effortlessly

There was nothing hesitant about the way Jung wooyoung kissed you back

Lips pressing more persistently against yours, teeth grazing your lower lip and pulling slightly before diving in again, hand now curled around the back of your neck

His other hand caressed your side and gripped your hips as he pressed you gently against the shelves, your arm slipping down to clutch at the front of his shirt as his body molded all too perfectly against yours

You could feel him everywhere

Everywhere 

From the way his lips had begun to land messy kisses against your jaw and neck, the hand on your hip tightening and slipping under your shirt to clutch at soft skin, hips flush against yours 

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from Wooyoung, your head spinning at the intoxicating feeling he brought with him 

The sensation of his mouth against your neck was almost euphoric, your head lolling back against the books and leaving you to pull your lower lip between your teeth, an almost futile feeling bid to keep silent, you’re still in public

Somehow your hands wound up in his hair, pulling the double-toned strands as his head dipped lower, a quiet groan from Wooyoung your only pointer that he liked it

So this is why he was so sure of himself, your mind temporarily blanking when Wooyoung’s teeth pulled against the sensitive skin, biting and sucking gently

A choked, uneven sound escaped your mouth when he pushed you harder against the shelves, hand reaching lower to squeeze your butt-

A smirk lit up his eyes as he straightened up to look at the line of red- blue blooming across your neck, then at you, cheeks warm and still biting your lip, looking resolutely away from his gaze

“Weren’t we supposed to be working on the project?” 

This little buzzkill.

//

You didn’t work on the project that night

You spent it in Wooyoung’s bedroom, getting railed within an inch of your life.

Not without the lack of the both of you being absolutely unable to keep your hands off each other on the way there 

Between the library and his dorm, you pulled or got pulled into shady alleys and corners for ‘another taste’ 

“Never again.” You warned him when he dropped you off at your dorm, you looking windswept from the wind of course and his hoodie up because of the cold not because his neck was more purple than tan-

Lies.

Your daytime dynamic remained the same 

But now with added benefits- 

He got to corner you after class, feel you up until you were gasping his name and then leave you hanging 

You got to make brazen moves under the table in the library whenever he got too snarky for his own good

He could ask nicely, you learnt. Broken groans and choked-up sounds would escape him when you ran your nails over his skin, soft and sharp and wanting and unyielding as you kissed your way down his body

Down his neck, over his chest, the hard planes of his stomach 

He would plead for more when you sucked him off, bucking his hips closer to you everytime you slowed down or stopped

Find him at the right time, though and he could just as easily return the favour

He would tease you relentlessly, hands ghosting everywhere dangerous and then pulling away just to watch you squirm and make grabby hands at him, a frown marring your kiss- swollen lips 

Leave conspicuous marks too high up on your neck for you to cover, dark enough for a day or two that even makeup left shadows

Spending a long, long time between your legs only to get up and start dressing, claiming to be late for class

Quickies were your religion at this point 

Janitors closets locked and hand covering your mouth to muffle your moans before a dance competition, empty bedrooms in frat parties with one of you getting pushed onto the bed

It was an infernal coupon from hell : Find one archrival, get a fuck buddy free of cost!

Of course, there were side effects

“Did you just walk out of that empty classroom with Jung Wooyoung? After class hours?” “We were studying for the midterms!!”

“Uh.. Wooyoung, who was that leaving the dorm building? at 1 in the morning?” “uh yEAH WE WERE DOING THE PROJECT YEAH.”

Yeah, a boyfriend sounds nice but an archenemy you can make out with in secret sounds ravishingly pleasing-

When the boy in question is a certain young man with double toned hair with a penchant for leather jackets and out-of-line snark, you couldn’t agree more.

Yes, this is a revamp and repost from my main account xD. Like I said, this was self indulgence to the peak 😩 I'm a tad whipped for snarky boy Jung Wooyoung 😀

Do lemme know what you think ^_^. xoxo, A💕

Possibly interested parties: @aliceu​ @whiteprincessofnohr​

(drop me an ask to be added or removed! )

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

Prompt list 30 with bill? Maybe someone (richie or stan) said that abt his stutter in the middle of a fight sorta angst?

30. “Oh my gosh, you’re so annoying!”

Prompt List

———————————————————————

At the inn, 6 Losers were sitting around continuing on with their reunion. Eddie, Bev and Richie snuggled against each other on the couch while the others stood around.

Bill was talking to Mike on the many ways they could potentially kill IT. Ben was talking to Richie and Eddie and Beverly were complaining about their spouses.

Bang!

The sound of a door being thrown against a wall made all the Losers jump. Mike was ready to use an empty whiskey bottle as a weapon but in walked Stanley.

“Sorry I’m late. I was um, I didn��t want to come but I figured that I’d be killed if I didn’t.” Stan explained.

“Good to see you, Stan the Man,” piped Richie being the first to engulf the thin shaken man in a hug.

“You too Richie.” Stan whispered as he returned the comforting hug.

The group of friends caught up with Stan, telling him what they’ve been up to and them learning that Stan was happily married and that she was a teacher and he was an accountant.

All of his doubts and fears went away and was comforted by his old friends. Just like he was when they were kids.

Not once did any of them hammer him on not wanting to come. They knew what happened down in the sewers 27 years ago. If there was going to be one person that didn’t show up, it was Stan and everyone understood if he didn’t.

****

At the Neibolt house, the following day, Eddie and Stan tried to keep each other safe and siking themselves up. As much as they waned to believe that they could face the clown again, they didn’t want to die. Stan loved his wife and his job, he didn’t want to lose that.

Eddie on the other hand, wanted to file for divorce papers so he didn’t have to put up with Myra and tell Richie how he truly felts.

The two walked side by side into the house, Eddie took a shaky breath but continued forward. Stan on the other hand, stopped dead in his tracks.

He had not gone into this place voluntarily, the first time he went in was because Eddie, Richie and Bill were attacked. The second time he was forced in because of Bill wanting to kill the clown. Now he walked in voluntarily and his fear rose.

Everything came back.

****

As they dropped down into Pennywise’s lair, in the heart of the sewers. Eddie freaked out, which inevitably made Stan panic.

If Eddie can’t, then I can’t, Stan thought.

He watched as Richie stopped him, “You’re braver than you think, Eds.” Richie said.

“You too Stan. You both can do this.” Beverly said. Stan gave her a weak half smile and forced himself through the hole in the floor.

It was just as dark, cold and wet as he remembered. He held the flashlight up in front of him and slowly followed Ben and Mike into the lair. Squeezing through two rocks, he hauled himself with the help of Richie.

But the fear caught back up with him. “I’m sorry guys but I can’t do this.” Stan panicked.

“F-f-for gods s-s-s -” Bill paused. “For. Gods. Sake. Stan.”

“What Bill? Say what you have to say to me then I’m leaving!”

“Y-y-you l-leave, y-y-ou will d-die. I-It’s the w-ay that IT w-works.”

Stan refused to believe that. He refused to accept the fact that if he left Derry he’d be killed by IT ... somehow.

So he was still going to leave, he’ll just stay put in the shitty, asbestos ridden inn.

“Oh my gosh! You’re so annoying!” Stan yelled. Knowing that he’d gone too far but he didn’t care. He wasn’t hoing to put himself in harms way and for what? So a psychopathic clown could potentially kill him? No!

“Stan.” Richie warned.

“No Richard. I just shouldn’t have come. This was a fucking mistake. Hope you kill IT.”

With that Stan left Neibolt and stayed at the inn waiting for the Losers return but they never did. When he checked himself out a day later, he saw that their cars were gone, all except Eddie’s.

****

As they all watched Stan leave, Bill was almost in tears. His stutter was something that he was ashamed of and was insecure about. Stan knew that, yet he still said those 3 words.

“Bill, let’s kill this motherfucking clown.” Richie bellowed.

“We don’t need him Bill.” Mike said placing a hand on Bill’s shoulder.

“Ignore him Bill, he’s in fear and pissed off. He probably didn’t mean it. Forget about him. We’re here for you.” Beverly soothed.

Something in Bill’s mind snapped he took everything from Mike and set up the ritual like Mike had shown him. One by one, each club member placed their token into the can.

*

“Yippee Kayay motherfu-“ Richie said before falling into the deadlights.

“Hey dickwad!” Eddie yelled, drawing Pennywise’s attention towards him.

Bill didn’t like what he was watching and as soon as Richie was brought out and Eddie celebrating. He knew what was about to happen.

They helped him and he was going to return the favour. He ran towards the and just in time too before Pennywise’s claw penetrated Eddie.

“Holy shit, you save me.” Eddie breathed.

“Yeah, you saved me last time Rich, you too Eds.” Bill said. “Shit, sorry, Eddie.”

“Nah, I actually liked being called Eds. Myra called me Eddie or Eddiebear so Eds feels right.” Eddie explained. There was a look in Richie’s eyes that Bill had seen before and knew all too well.

Hope.

“You’re a fucking pussy!” Bill yelled at the clown.

“Nobody likes you.” Ben fired, not wanting to curse.

“You’re just a clown.” Beverly said to really finish the job and that’s when Bill reached into Pennywise’s chest and pulled out his heart.

The heart still pumped in the palm of his hand. With one final cackle from the deflated clown, Bill squished the heart.

****

They all ran out of the house as it started collapsing. Just as they watched it fall, the unknown weight and stale air that they all subconsciously had, lifted.

Even though they lost 22 years, they had each other now.

“Why don’t we all go and get our cars and meet at the Quarry?” Bill suggested.

“Yes!” Richie said pumping the air. “Actually once we get through town, Eds and I may be a little late. I wanna show him something.”

“You’re gonna show him that thing?” Bill asked, Richie nodded joyously.

*

The walk through town was calming and felt nostalgic. As they passed an old window front, they all stopped, just like they did 27 years ago.

Except this time Eddie didn’t have vomit on him, Bev didn’t have dried mud covering parts of her face and stan wasn’t in the picture.

The dead streets were once again filled with life. unlike a day ago when the streets were literally dead. This was what freedom felt like. Nothing holding them back, minds completely filled with childhood memories and the confidence to remove themselves from situations that they hated.

But the weight of losing a dear dear friend laid heavily on each Losers’ shoulder. Stan was Richie and Bill’s oldest friend, Stan was the first to know about Richie’s crush on Eddie and had helped Bill maintain his stutter to a couple a words a sentence.

Stan was everyone’s go to guy when they needed help. Any sane person would hate it but Stan loved it. It made him feel loved and wanted.

But when those words fell from his mouth, only moments ago, everyone stood behind Bill. If anyone picked on one of their friend’s insecurities, they’d stand by that person and shun the person that attacked them. It killed everyone to shun Stan but especially Bill.

****

Stan didn’t know whether or not Eddie survived until one day he was scrolling through Facebook and saw a post from Richie announcing his engagement to Eddie. As well as Eddie announcing that he and Richie had adopted a beautiful baby girl. Every Loser was there at the engagement party but Stan. All because he left them to face a killer clown with out him.

He knew he deserved it and all he said on both Facebook posts was congratulations Reddie.

———————————————————————

A/N: I meant for this to go down another road but I deeply apologise for a shitty Stanley.

[hiswhiteknight]

Yippee-Ki-Yay

Summary:  The Reader takes the Christmas Movie - Die Hard, very seriously! And it the uproar of defending the greatest Christmas movie of all time, they discover Bucky has never seen it and intends to change that.

This was for the @buckychrist holiday writing challenge. The prompt being, “Die Hard is the best Christmas movie, and I won’t hear a word saying otherwise.” As someone who loves Die Hard, this was a fun one to write. Enjoy! And thanks Hayley for hosting this challenge and congrats on the 3.5k!!!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1500

Warning: Fluff, Cursing, Implied smut

Wilson yelled over the group, stomping behind you, “Alright, that’s the last time Y/N is allowed to watch Die Hard during Christmas,” he made sure to yell loud enough for everyone to hear.

Captain, though no one knew, was getting sick of the banter between Sam and yourself, “This, I agree with Wilson.”

You spun around walking down the ramp backwards, “Die Hard is the best Christmas movie, and I won’t hear a word saying otherwise,” you put your hands over your ears and twirl around, skipping down the ramp.

“That’s an action movie, Y/N, very little has to do with Christmas,” Sam countered back, “Its focus is not Christmas.” You acted like you didn’t hear him, humming Christmas music under your breath to block him out, “And that’s not the problem, Y/N. The problem is you quoting nonstop during the mission.”

“What,” you shriek, acting offended, “I don’t do that. I’m a professional Samuel.”

You both were facing each other now, with Captain, Bucky, Clint, and Nat surround the both of you. Sam used his finger to start counting, “Well I don’t know,” he is acting like he had to think about all the moments, “Let’s see, ‘Welcome to the party, pal,’ ‘Come out to the coast! We’ll get together, have a few laughs,’ ‘Happy Trails, Hans,” he continued.

“The person’s name was Hans,” you yelled out, still sounding offended.

Sam looked bewildered, “It was a woman, Y/N, a woman.” The group chuckled, and Sam continued, point at Nat, “When Romanoff told you about a group of Hydra behind you, you responded with, ‘No fucking shit, lady. Does it sound like I’m ordering pizza,” he pointed out.

You paused for a moment trying to come up with an excuse. Your face strained, while sounding sarcastic, “Well,” you swallow, “She was late to the game. I was in the middle of fighting them already.”

Captain added his little, “We could have done without the language.”

Nat laughed, turning to spin away and get cleaned up. You grimaced at Captain’s response, clearly, he was on a side that wasn’t yours. Sam scoffed at you, using his hand to motion pushing you away, “Now I have a machine gun. Ho Ho Ho,” he finished, you looked unimpressed, “You were holding one of Stark’s laser cannons,” Sam yelled with a finish.

“It’s practically a machine gun, Wilson,” you continued, now urging the group to follow you. You all deserved some rest after this mission.

“Oh,” Bucky finally chimed in, “That’s why you were saying crazy things, they were movie quotes,” he smiled, feeling really proud of himself. Everyone stop, slowing turning to scowl at Bucky, “I thought you were just trying to sound more bad ass.”

You squinted one of you eyes at him, “I don’t need to sound bad ass,” you growled towards him, “I am bad ass,” you yell. You calmed your voice, trying to focus on the real problem, “Bucky, have you never seen the best Christmas movie of all time,” you question him softly, “Die Hard.”

He cocked his head, “That doesn’t sound like a Christmas movie,” the whole group erupted in a chuckle.

Grabbing his hand, “Well it is and if you say otherwise, I will cut you,” you yell for everyone else to hear. Sam yelled something back, but at the moment that didn’t matter.

Bucky didn’t pull away, “Am I about to be punished or something?”

You spun quickly, halting without a sign, which caused Bucky to slam into your little body, “We are going to my lair, where we are going to watch Die Hard, the Christmas movie.” You grip his hand again, pulling him with you, “But first, snacks.”

After you got all the snacks and changed into something not covered it gore, you shove Bucky down on the couch, “How many times have you watched Die Hard this year?” he asked curiously, getting comfortable next to you. He tossed his arm on the couch behind you and gave you all his attention.  You and Bucky were good friends, but there was this undisclosed tension and attraction towards each other. You’ve just grown to ignore it and Bucky has done the same, both ignoring it for different reasons.

Looking up the ceiling, you used your fingers to try to count, “You know, doesn’t matter.” You shoo the thought away, “Alright Bucky,” you turn to face him, looking awfully serious, “Prepare yourself to see the best Christmas movie of all time.”

Pushing some hair out of your face, “Consider me prepared, Doll,” he shared a smile with you.

You nod, like this was an official start to something serious and sat back against his arm. The movie started, but Bucky couldn’t help but steal some glances at you. You continued to quote the movie under your breath, even motioning the same gestures as John McClane did. Bucky loved how you loved this movie. And he could even understand why you felt this was a Christmas movie. Especially because you made sure to comment on every Christmas reference and thing in the movie, “Should I be taking notes,” he teased back at you.

“Not your worse idea,” you smirk, squeezing his thigh, than leaving your hand there. He became well away of what you were doing to him.

Bucky continued to push you by pointing out the lack of plausibility to some of the action sequences, “See that, that couldn’t happen,” he said as a whisper, not to take your complete focus away from the movie.

“Barnes,” you growl, pausing the movie to look at him, “As a fellow super spy, I’m well aware of the believability of action movies. So shut your gob and use your imagination. Just enjoy what this is, which is the greatest Christmas movie of all times.”

His grin lit up the room. Your passion and seriousness over a movie were enduring and he loved it. So, he took this pause in the movie to lean forward, placing one hand on your hip, and the next on your neck to kiss you. He had made you forget the fact that you were watching a movie you loved dearly with his soft lips and gentle grasps. You had made yourself forget how much you wanted this and now that it’s happening you get carried away.

After a few moments, you both separate to look at each other. Bucky runs his hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath. You straightened your shirt, wetting your lips again, “You must have really liked the movie.”

“Well,” he cocked his head to look at you again, “I don’t really have anything else to compare it to. I haven’t seen any other Christmas movie,” he leaned in coolly to kiss you again, but you pulled your head back.

“Are you kidding,” you said disgusted again, “Bucky, you haven’t seen any of the classics?”

Bucky scratched the back of his head, “Well Doll, I haven’t had much time to watch many flicks. I’ve been busy.”

You shook your head, “This will not due,” you get up, going over to your shelf, “You can’t have you spouting off about Die Hard being the greatest Christmas movie of all time while you have nothing to compare it to. That would taint the evidence.” You were pulling out a ton of films, “I hope you don’t mind spending the night with me, we have a lot of research to do,” you look back at him with a smile. He looked you up and down, giving you a curious glance. He didn’t want to assume what you were inferring, though he was intrigued. And with a glimmer in your eye, you finished your statement, “We can take the occasional break between movies, you know to discuss the film and such,” you sent a wink his way.

“And such,” he added, “I think I need a break right now,” he grabbed your arm and pulled you down under him.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you grinned up at him, loving the feel of him against you. You leaned down to kiss him but pulled back again. You gave him a teasing grin, “But first, you have to swear your allegiance to Die Hard.”

He shook his head, “How about I say it’s a Christmas movie,” you didn’t give him a convincing smile. You growled at him, pinching his arm, though it didn’t phase him at all, “Though I will swear my allegiance to you and only you darling,” his grin grew larger. He cradled your cheek, using his thumb to gently stroke, “My bad ass, over dramatic, movie quoting babe.”

You played with the collar of his shirt, trying to act coy, “I’ll just ignore the over dramatic part,” you shrug before pulling him fully down on you. As you closed your eyes, you blessed John McClane for this little get together. You knew this was going to be a wild, playful night. As you moved positions, you sexy grin, saying, “Yippee-Ki-Yay.”

[verybisexualwriter]

A Hogwarts Love Story

Everett Jobs was wise beyond his years. Anyone who took the time to get to know him would've realised it. But he was a quiet kid who kept to himself, and he was a muggle born. Early on in his fourth year he was reading quietly in the courtyard when four Slytherin boys walked up to him, one of them snatching his book. “Whatcha readin’ mudblood?” One teased.

“Is it any of your business, you bigoted arsehole?” Everett replied, blue eyes narrowed. He stood, revealing his full six feet of height.

The first Slytherin smirked at his companions. “You boys hear what this mudblood called me?”

The Slytherins laughed, slowly reaching for their wands. But Everett drew faster, cursing all five in one smooth motion. They all ran off, trousers and robes flaming. “Yippee ki yay, mother fucker,” he chuckled to himself as he picked his book up off the cobblestone. His eyes suddenly met a pair of brilliant amber ones.

Jasper Kip, a Hufflepuff in Everett's year. “I can't believe you just did that.”

A soft blush rose in Everett's cheeks. “You saw all that? It was nothing. I'm used to it, do it back on the farm once a week.”

"That statement raises an absurd amount of questions" Jasper said.

"Well, ask them then" Everett said, having received the exact reaction he hoped for.

"Ok... the farm?" Jasper asked.

"My folks own a farm up north, that's what I was supposed to do if I were a muggle."

"No, reason you can't do both" Jasper said a little awkwardly, "so why do you set fire to Slytherins on your farm?”

Everett laughed, “No, I mean the sass. The muggles back home aren't exactly kind to me.”

Jasper bit his bottom lip for just a moment "I think we'll get along.”

Everett's cheeks went pink once again. "What makes you say that?"

“I'm going into Hogsmeade tomorrow,” Jasper said, ignoring the question, “do you want to join me?”

The next day was the first of many afternoons in Hogsmeade, which they spent drinking butterbeer and buying Pepper Imps, which was their shared favorite candy. They talked over books in the library when they had free time in school, and Everett went to every one of Jasper's quidditch games. Jasper moved expertly on that broom, but Everett got anxious if he went near one.

That is until one evening, after a stroll through Hogsmeade during a sensible meal in the great hall Everett was startled by the sudden sensation of hands on his shoulders. Everett whipped around while drawing his wand, ready to make some Slytherins wish they were never born, only to see those brilliant amber eyes staring back at him.

"Fuck, Jas,” you scared the shit out of me!"

Jasper looked sorry for a second but shook off his concerned expression quickly.

"I have a surprise for you,” he said excitedly.

Jasper lead Everett to the locker rooms, behind the quidditch pitch. They walked into the unlit mens lockers as the sun set.

"You're not gonna murder me are you?” Everett said.

"Fuck off, and be excited,”

"That didn't sound like a no, I'm not going to keep following you if you don't say no.”

"No.”

Jasper tapped his wand to the door of his locker and it swung open revealing a long package wrapped in brown paper and Jasper's Cleansweep 8. "My dad just sent this after our big win against gryffindor on Saturday, but I've known about it for a while now,”  he said, grabbing the package, it was obvious what it was. Everett was excited for Jasper, knowing that his cleansweep was past its prime.

The two pulled back the paper revealing a Nimbus 2001, Everett watched Jasper's eyes widen as he excitedly stroked the broom, feeling its bristles and its polished handle in his hands. Everett didn't understand the world of quidditch, but he understood the look on Jasper's face as he held this broom in his hands.

Jasper blinked ind shook his head "But anyway," he said "This isn't your surprise."

Everett looked up at Jasper, suddenly aware of how close they were standing, and started to ask him to explain himself but Jasper cut him off. He whipped back around to the locker and grabbed the cleansweep which now looked raggedy and worn in comparison. "This is,”he said.

"Jas, thanks, that's so nice of you, I'll, erm, hang it on my wall" Everett thought about how it would feel to fall asleep with Jas’ broom above his head.

“Everett? Mate, you're not going to hang it on your wall, at least not now, we're going to ride them," Jasper held up his Nimbus and strode out the door towards the quidditch pitch.

When Everett's legs decided to move again he jogged up beside him "Jas, I know you mean well-”

Jasper slammed the doors open confidently and Everett forgot what he was going to say. Jasper turned around and smiled widely at Everett "You ready?" He asked.

"No,”  said Everett.

"Great, let's go.”

They stepped out onto the soggy grass, water soaking through their socks. Everett performed a simple charm to waterproof his and Jasper's shoes.

Jasper mounted his broom, "Well get on then!"

Everett awkwardly stepped over the tail of his broom and held the end tightly with both hands.

Jasper stepped toward him and began to adjust his grip murmuring advice about foot position and broom angle. When he was satisfied with the results he called, "Ok, kick off!" and kicked off into the air on his own broom. Everett, though thoroughly terrified did not fail to take a moment to enjoy the look of bliss on Jaspers face as he rode his new broom for the first time. Though, he was also painfully aware that he was supposed to have kicked off at this point but his body simply refused to leave the ground.

Jasper came down to the ground after rising about ten feet in the air. It was difficult not to notice the obvious terror on Everett's pale face.

"Ok," he said "We'll get through this.”

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child!" Said Everett, he meant it as a joke but it came out sounding defensive and mean.

"Oh..." said Jasper, unsure of how to respond to that.

"Sorry...just nervous I think."

Jasper's shoulders relaxed slightly and he positioned himself close beside Everett. Everett's shoulders tensed but he felt safer about flying with Jasper right nearby. Nothing could happen to him if Jasper was flying within inches. "Ok, we'll take off on the count of three" Jasper said.

"One.”

"Two,” Everett whimpered.

"Three,” Jasper hollered and they both kicked off the ground. Jasper's broom rose smoothly about.

Everett's bucked up unevenly. Everett gasped and let one hand off the broom to seize Jaspers shoulder. Jasper took both hands off of his broom and gently placed one on top of Everett's hand on his shoulder and wrapped the other across his back. Once the broom was still and Everett was balanced Jasper coached him on steering and balance. The two of them floated around the perimeter of the quidditch pitch extremely slowly, Jasper sensing when Everett would lose his balance and firmly adjusting him by moving shoving his shoulder in the right direction.

After ten minutes of this Everett could tell how much Jasper wanted to fly on his new broom. "Jas, go ride that thing, I want to watch you fly."

Jasper looked happy to perform but Everett thought, for just a moment, that he saw a spark of longing in those amber eyes. He quickly shook the idea from his mind.

Everett watched the wind streak through Jasper's brunet hair and his silhouette as he rose out of the stands against the twilight sky.

Just a few moments later though, Jasper came down and said "You have to come with me."

When Everett began to shake his head Jasper said "Would I let you fall?" To which Everett had no answer.

They walked to the middle of the pitch and, once Everett had mustered up the courage, kicked off into the air. Everett had a much smoother launch this time around and Jasper half guided, half carried him higher and higher above the goal posts with his arm around his shoulders. When they came to a standstill, Everett began to look down at the second but Jasper caught his chin with his broom hand. They both froze. "You. Um. You don't want to do that. You don't want to look down I mean." Jasper breathed. But Everett didn't want to look down, not because he was scared, but because Jasper wasn't down there.

That was just before summer break. When school started back up the boys found that they had quite a few classes together. One of those was potions with professor Snape. Every year Snape chose one or two students to target as his most hated. Everett was that student, and Jasper was one of his favorites until he started standing up for Everett.

They were working on a potion created to preserve the heat in someone's body in cold environments. Everett's blue eyes were fixed on his cauldron, watching the blue tinted smoke rise in rich swirls, just a shade darker than the book called for. Snape called him a bumbling idiot under his breath, but he made sure to say it loud enough for Everett to hear. Jasper, who was sitting next to him, narrowed his eyes at the professor. Everett couldn't help sniggering when Jasper called Snape an overgrown bat. But he had to prove that he was good enough to make Snape's stupid potion. He was stirring furiously and humming the tune of a song his sister played often on the farm. “Rett, calm down. It's not a big deal. Why do you care what Snape thinks of you?”

“I don't. I just want him to know that a muggle born can do just as well as a pureblood,” Everett hissed, adding a drop of salamander blood to the mixture. His hand was shaking so much that a drop of blood wound up on his shoe. Jasper stepped closer to Everett and gently tilted Rett's chin up with his fingers.

“Relax, it's a really complex potion. You're going to overwork yourself trying to impress him.”

Everett seemed not to hear him, as he continued to stir vigorously. He was muttering something about the consistency looking like cow shit. Jasper had finally had enough of Everett beating himself up over this. He tried to gingerly pry the spoon from Everett's hands, but Everett kept a death grip on it. Jasper tugged on it again, but his hand slipped, spilling the tiny vial of salamander blood he'd forgotten he was holding. It spilled into the potion, and the boys were suddenly engulfed in flames as a thunderous explosion shook the classroom. The heat seared into Jasper and he heard a yell as the flames burnt his vision into blackness.

Everett opened his heavy eyelids and immediately felt the heat and pain on his skin. He strained to turn his head and saw Jasper lying unconscious, bandaged, bloody, and pale. As Everett tried to sit up he felt something thick and stiff around his middle. He peered under the sheets to find himself wrapped in clean white bandages.

Jasper began to shift in his bed, and the springs creaked and triggered an explosion of a migraine between Everett's ears, his lungs aching like he'd inhaled shards of glass. Everett had the sudden, intense desire to go back to sleep and lose all connection to the physical world and his broken body, but just as his eyelids closed again he heard Jasper's voice. "Rett?" He groaned, “Rett, are you awake?”

“Unfortunately,” Rett rasped, keeping his eyes shut. He heard a loud creak of the mattress and then the distinct sound of a limping gait coming his way, then felt the edge of his bed dip under Jasper's weight. Jasper's  hand rested atop Everett's bandaged one, and the corners of Everett's mouth turned up a bit. His blue eyes slowly cracked open again. Jasper was smiling down at him, but all Everett could notice were the singed tips of Jasper's deep brown curls and the large burn on his cheek. “I'm sorry,” He whispered.

Jasper's amber eyes went huge. “You have nothing to be sorry for Rett, I was the one who spilled the blood.”

“Because you were trying to get me to relax,” Everett said, working himself up, “if I wasn't so worried about proving myself to Snape you wouldn't have had to do that and you wouldn't be lying here right now. God, maybe mum's right, I'm not cut out for this.”

“Don't you dare say that, Rett. I’ve seen you curse bullies like it's nothing, you can turn house cats into tigers. So what if Snape doesn't like you. Passing potions isn't going to make or break your life. You're an incredible wizard, one of the best I've ever met.”

Rett sniffled, and suddenly Jasper's lips were against his, soft and sweet and warm. Once Rett got over his surprise he kissed back, his hand resting on the nape of Jasper's neck. Jasper gently brushed a stray lock of blond hair off Everett’s forehead as he pulled away. “And quite honestly, if you leave Hogwarts, then I'll have  to too.”

[youraveragemage]

@havokisamust here have a thing :P

This is going to hurt like a bitch. And it’s going to hurt worse when you have a restart. What you felt through the bond? It’s only going to be thousand times worse, but this is the only way I know how to save you. And Gods help if this doesn’t work, cause I swear I will go to them and make them pay!

Those were the only words she knew from her past life. Said to someone precious. Hmm...precious. Was that important? Probably. She couldn’t really remember. The only thing that made sense was her going between Hell’s. She was passed between Hades and Lucifer like she was their personal play thing. It made things even more fun when they knew she didn’t recall whatever it was she’d done to deserve such horrid treatment. Of course it would entertain those bastards. But then again, the only reason she was here and a demon in the first place was because she’d done a deed so horrible that not even redemption was possible. And she’d also saved someone’s life. How did that equal this punishment? If she had done something so horrible, shouldn’t she be suffering more instead of less? It made no sense.

“You saved someone’s life. And now it’s time for you to go out there and find that person.” Hades remarked with a smile. How long had she been passed from one sadistic bastard to the next? One couldn’t keep count down here. How much had the world above changed? 

“You need a name.” Lucifer remarked leaning against his part of Hell. There were different hells for different religions. According to the Devil, she’d been born in a place of time of Catholics. So she’d been placed in his realm by default. Yippee [heavy sarcasm here]. So she was now a demon. “Names are ridiculously important up above.”

“Dorchadas.” She replied right away. Was that her voice? She hasn’t spoken much during however long she had been down here. She hadn’t thought she sounded like that. What was the name? It was important too. But memories were almost immediately erased in death. 

“Oh? How curious.” Lucifer purred and she almost punched him. Like she had. A hundred or so times before, when he pushed her way too far. He’d even allowed her to sit on his throne at the beginning with a mocking bow.

“Go fuck yourself with your pitchfork.” She growled.

“Now your talkative.” Hades teases. She wanted to get away from these assholes right now.

~~~~~~~~

Vegas. Why was it Vegas? She touches a building. Sin city. She could blend in here, with any other supernatural creature. She had a paper with a referral. 

“You also need a job. Go to this address. He will give you one. You may have to lay with some people.” She had punched Hades hard after that comment. She wasn’t someone to just do that. She may not know much, but she wouldn’t just fuck around, no matter what the fuck she was. 

“Son of a cunt fucking whore.” She swore like a sailor as she continued down the street, the address and how to get to this store on a separate piece of paper, even if she didn’t study it. She was instead looking at the stores and Earth. It was so nice up here. But the moment she came, the blue shade of the sky made her cry. She hasn’t cried ever. Not even in those Hell’s.

She gave the referral to the man at the bar staring at him. In the windows she had seen that her eyes were almost black as pitch. Well, it wasn’t that big of a surprise being down for so long. Years had passed, that’s all she’d figured since she died. Probably hundreds of them. But there was just enough blue to give her hope. He might recognize me with just blue enough. She hoped. But who was he?!

“Your hired. Welcome Dorchadas.”

“You can call me Dorcha. And I do have a bad mouth. I’ve been ordered to warn you.” She said in dry as the desert tone. “And a temper. I’ve been known to punch my superiors.” She growled hating having to say ‘superiors’ when referring to those two damned ass holes. 

“You actually punched BOTH Lucifer and Hades...and you’re still around?!” He asked in surprise.

“Apparently I had been quite the celebrity before I died. If they misused me they had been warned that their punishment would be eight times worse.” Which was why she hadn’t been touched in THAT way with those two, when they wouldn’t have even thought twice about any other person with her black past. She had to be so grateful to whoever had given that warning. 

She was drawing in the dressing room. Again. She’d been doing it every day since she arrived. Those eyes kept haunting her. She’d repeatedly drew the eyes, and the face. Who. Was. HE?!

“He’s a dragon. And a normal here.” She heard another Succumbus say. She snarled and went after her. Just the thought of her touching him? She saw black, for real. She has no idea what she would have done to that other thing, had she not been bound and confined to a room in chains to calm down. But that sparked the fear of never being free and she screamed in fear. “PLEASE, LET ME GO! I DIDN’T MEAN TO ALMOST SCRATCH HER EYES OUT...WELL I DID BUT PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO BE BOUND!” She’d pleaded. And she’d sounded so sad and scared they had to take her out and warn her should anything like that happen again, she’d be thrown out. She’d been a bit contrite. But damn. She hadn’t felt such anger. Not even with Lucifer or Hades and damn if they hadn’t tried.

~~~~~~~~

She sat in the chair looking at the man with the fire truck red hair. Was there....something familiar about him? Being without memory of her last life, well it sucked. 

“I don’t want anything from you.” He said with a cheeky grin, even as they sat in her room. 

“You...don’t?” She’d asked so confused. Then why ask for her then? And why in the world did she recognize him?

“Nope.” He answered popping the p. And that too was familiar. And it was bothering her. You might think you’d get used to the just out of reach memory. But it was damn annoying. “You remind me of my mother.” Remind?

“She’s dead?” She asked sympathetically. Hey she’d died. Who had she left behind? Was there anyone who mourned her? The thought that there wasn’t sent her panicking. What if he didn’t show? Her heart -did demons have hearts?- broke a little and she felt tears at the back of her eyes. This would be the second time she’s cried in who knew how long.

“Yeah. But do you mind if I talk to you, as I might have her?” He asked. 

“Sure. Please.” She wanted someone to count on her. Even if it was fake.

~~~~~~~~~~~

And the days passed after the dyed red head’s visit, and there was no sign that he was coming. She was quickly becoming panicked that he never would -then again, who could say how long she would have to wait?-  when she saw a figure at the bar. She’d drawn his figure so many times, she could practically do it in her sleep -probably had a time or two- and she swallowed. Was this him? There was only one way to know. “I have a request.” She said impulsively. This would be the quickest find ever in the history of succumbus. If...she could prove it.

“What is it Dorchadas?” Was that recognition in his icy blue eyes? What exactly did her name mean? 

“Can you sing please?” She asked the man. The familiar stranger. “It can be anything you like. Or I can pick.” She quickly added to her request. She was pretty good at reading people even with so little time spent here. He looked miserable. Maybe he’d refuse.

“I know what I’ll sing.” Oooohhh. That voice. She almost shivers at the sound of it. He stood up and went to the sound guy to request music to be played. She smiled wide. Oh please! Let this be him! Then it fell when the music started. It was a movie from a long time ago.  “I was the one who had it all/I was the master of my fate.” Tears instantly prickled behind her eyes. She’d been right in a way. But so wrong. He wasn’t miserable. He was depressed. He’d lost someone important. And it might not be her. Oh Gods, no!  “I never needed anybody in my life/I learned the truth too late/I’ll never shake away the pain. I close my eyes but she’s still there/I let her steal into my melancholy heart/It’s more than I can bear.“ She’d heard this voice in her dreams a time or two. This was him. There was love and loss in his voice. The tears rolled down her face as he watched her. “Now I know she’ll never leave me/Even as she runs away/She will still torment me.” She watched him looking at her and then look at the other girls. Was he...trying to see who else would be reacting? She hoped she was the only one. She couldn’t tear her eyes from him. “ Calm me, hurt me/Move me, come what may/Wasting in my lonely tower. Waiting by an open door/I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in/And be with me for evermore.” He stepped off the stage and right to her. The loss and love were there in his voice. Yet...the depressed nature made way for...hope? Her heart -she still doubted she had one- leaped in anticipation. She hoped as well, hoped that he was hers. For she knew she was his. “I rage against the trials of love/I curse the fading of the light. Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach/She’s never out of sight.” He was in front of her now. Looking at her as he sang. As she was caught in the eyes she’d fallen for even in drawings. She couldn’t help but touch him with his being so close. She places her heart over his chest. The heart beat was a bit quicker in his chest. His hand covered hers, grasping it as a drowning man would his life line. “Now I know she’ll never leave me. Even as she fades from view/She will still inspire me. Be a part of everything I do/Wasting in my lonely tower/Waiting by an open door.” He took her hand and placed it at the crook of his neck. Was that an invite? Well, she wasn’t going to pass it up. “ I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in/And as the long, long nights begin/I’ll think of all that might have been/Waiting here for evermore.” He kissed her hand. She didn’t waste any more time. With a smile, she sank her teeth into his neck after bringing him down to her. Ooohhhhhhh. The taste. So alien and yet so familiar. She could have wept that a mark appeared where she’d bitten him. Oh, thank you!

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Alaric stated shaking his head as he noted the mark. “ Looks like your wait is finally over my friend. Now, take her home.”