#i like to think knock out was a flyer and switched to a car

[witchofthesouls]

So, uh, this little memory just suddenly popped up out of no where and I figured it would serve as good(?) ‘world-building’ material.

So, when I was in my private all-girls Catholic high school (that’s how you know it’s going to be a good story) girls would soak their tampons with vodka to get drunk. Some where more successful than others, but some where also less fortunate when their near fatal encounter of alcohol poisoning and nasty-ass vaginal infections where known throughout school.

My question is; do cybertronians have a similar method of madness like the vodka tampons?

And my second question; did Cybertronian’s have their own version of an all girls catholic school? And if they do, what kind of crazy shit went on there?

I can tell you so much about the crazy shit that went on there; the illegal gambling ring, the bi-curious and lesbi-curious girls who were convinced that they liked/loved another girl and stalked the poor girl, some of the shady male teachers, the secret LGBTQ+ club (which was actually kind of wholesome and I was apart of), the bullying (sweet Jesus was there a lot of bullying and harassment), some nuns were Grade A+ assholes who would wack our hands with rulers and have affairs with some of the male teachers, and there’s was a…uh,…secret orgy/cunnilingus club too.

It was the nineties, what would you expect?

Oh wow. I heard of things in private, religious schools from a friend, but hot damn that's wild!

I did go to a religious university. They had a weekly chapel where classes were suspended and all students were required to attend. I did start a tiny alcohol ring in the dorms. Nothing nefarious or crazy binging, just enough in plastic bottles to use in cooking or sipping for a secret meat meal in the rooms. I came from a time when weed was still illegal, but damn I never thought it would prepare me for smuggling meats into a strictly vegetarian campus.

So going back to the questions:

Cybertronians do have alcoholic goodies for popular sex play. Unlike humans, their reproductive system is a closed loop circulatory-wise, and they don't need to worry about poisoning themselves. But for an experience similar to humans doing stupid things for that drunk-high is the equivalent of a wine enema into their afts. That's because their "asshole" is actually a medical port that has components connected to their pelvis structures; meaning, they can get off really well with that alcoholic enema. Yeah, you don't need to be an expert in alien biology to understand that pouring drugs into a hole that's connected to your nervous system can be a stupid bad idea.

Get ready for a lot of worldbuilding:

Education on Cybertronian is severely restricted to caste due to edicts based on Functionism where frame dictates function in society. Some city-states like Vos and Tarn get away with public schooling by citing it as a necessity component of their citizenship and to the benefit of Cybertron as a whole. Vos stylizes their system as a military academy since Seekers are typically slotted into such hierarchies and citizens are drafted into the Air Force during wartime; whereas Tarn is famous for its factories and mines. Sparkling armature is too fragile for the unstable environment, so keeps the workforce much more docile that the bits too big for the holds are kept away and provides leverage as a union-busting technique. Accidents happen.

There are the old traditions of apprenticeships and mentorships for mecha that catch the attention of a well-established professional. Each decade, the number dwindles as more fees are added such practices, such as "alt-mode exemption for education" and "Form Ed-98A-3432d: Exemption to mentor a student two castes below."

Higher education typically functions as private entities with very high-stakes testing. If a student fails to pass progress exams to move to the next module, then it's game over. There's no retakes or repeats or any sort of second chance. They're permanently expelled from completing education within the city-state.

Because of this, coercion is a common phenomenon, especially to snap up specific connections or talented individuals under the school's domains or their related patrons. Skill was the means of trade among the faculty and students as well as the ability to cultivate it. Money could be both everything and nothing within these facilities; it was as meaningful as the parties in agreement made it. This was a strange world compared to what was outside the walls as it blended all the castes and frames and cultures and reduced it to what a person could bring to a table via their own hands or their future. Make no mistake, it wasn't a utopia. It was a cutthroat arena with deep tensions that were mitigated by the faculty and student council as they all battle to polish diamonds from the rough, force people into cohorts, and seal alliances. If done right, a low-caste sponsered can be taken care of for the rest of their lives or die back on the streets with nothing.

Ratchet managed to get away with his old clinic doing illegal free services by utilizing this strange culture. The relationships he cultivated with his old mentor's ties into their own university as well as Ratchet’s own ties via teaching will cover his tracks and provide some funding as long as he takes in "chosen" medical apprentices to train in such conditions and documents the long-term effects of poverty at those sunless levels. Ratchet was only able to trace a few of his benefactors in his project, Senator Shockwave and Counciler Alpha Trion.

Because it was a different world with so much on and off the books, the really secretive clubs would be the "heretics" with worship to certain Primes, Titans, or Unicron, sex clubs that cater to xeno-related kinks, and those with dysmorphic frames, either by force or assigned (cold construction, lab-grown sentio metallico, or noncon frame overhaul), trying to find themselves without anything set on legal paperwork.

(Knockout took advantage of that.)

[v-septiceye]

Lost In The Dark (Egotober Day 1)

HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON EVERYONE!!! I'm going to be switching between different prompt lists this year just to try something new! Unfortunately, I still won't be consistent cause this one fic alone took more out of me than I thought T-T My goal, however, is to write more than last year!! And I love a good challenge^^ As always please be kind and respectful and enjoy some spooks :)

The night expanded like a raven’s wing, protecting the earth as it slept with a crisp autumn air that would nip at your nose. The moon had peaked after hours of rising and all was quiet. Too quiet. The air stung Jackie's lungs as he ran down the dimly lit neighborhood. A rickety set of telephone lines ran along each side, houses that seemed empty on either side of him and there was no sign of anyone, except for a couple of cars parked on the sidewalk and driveways. Jackie stopped by a lamppost littered with old flyers and stickers for air as he leaned against it, risking a peak over his shoulders to find no one there but he knew. He knew someone- something was there. The sound of a twig snapping behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin and turn around to see nothing but an empty street. He lets out a shaky sigh as he slumps further into the lamppost. “Fuck… I feel like I am in a horror movie.” Jackie commented to himself, blinking spots from his vision. 

“Easy jackaboy easy. You're just… tired! Yeah, tired people see things when they don’t get enough sleep all the time right? Things can’t actually hurt me. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m safe…”

The hero takes a couple of deep breaths as he picks himself up from the lamppost, the light above him winking in and out a little but he doesn’t pay too much mind to it. Not until he noticed the other lights around him started to burn out one by one. One light after the other, slowly shrouding the street into darkness. Jackie can hear each sodium orange light buzz and then short circuit, growing louder and louder each time, and he does nothing but watch. His heart sinks with each light dying out, glued to his post like a sanctuary from the darkness. He knows he can move. He knows he can start running again, maybe knock on a door to one of the houses but something inside him tells him not to move. That if he moves he’d be in more danger. That’s when he sees it. A couple of houses down, where the street lights are still on, he sees the silhouette of a person. At least, he thinks it’s a person. Jackie could only truly know that they were tall, their jeans were tattered, and their head hung low. Jackie takes a single step forward, his head desperately trying to understand what he is looking at. “H-hello? Sir?” The Shadow's steps were uneven and way too light to match the man's build who was walking towards Jackie. “Nah fuck this.” 

He thinks as he backs up, back colliding with the lamppost. He turns to run back the way he came but quickly realizes he can’t move. His muscles stiffen and lock up as he’s met with invisible resistance. He’s pulled to the floor by this force his skin feeling like it’s on fire, especially around his ankles and wrist. The last two things the hero sees are the lamppost blinking in and out and the figure’s two deep, black pits for eyes burning into him.

[ellierenae]

Dead darlings tag

The kind and talented @winterandwords tagged me to post one of the darlings I had to kill (or as they put it, "a snippet that didn't make it into the latest draft of a story").

Thanks for the tag, I have a good one for you!

“Find your repurpose,” Dawson grumbled, rolling the wheel of her car toward the OPEN HOUSE sign. There was a cookie-cutter, carbon-copy sign on every street for ten or twenty blocks that said those same three words. “Find your repurpose.” They appeared overnight, the night before her rent control was lifted. “Better than affordable housing,” the recruiter had said. (He had been plastering her workplace with flyers for hours, making sure that he did not miss an inch of poorly-mortared brick.) “300 sq. ft. can be so much more than you’ll ever need.” “More than you’ll ever want.” “That’s why they call them Forever Homes.” Insufferable, carbon-copy recruiter. A man who would apparate in your bathroom if you turned off the lights and said “Old Navy” three times in a row. Forever Homes never needed him to begin with. Not once did his freshly-pressed polo shirt convince a business man to walk into a repurposed shipping container and never walk out again. Not once did his carbon-copy signs make a woman turn away from pilates class to see what it might be like to forget the smell of fresh air and dandelions. What sold people, impoverished people, was the freedom from basic human needs. Food and shelter in exchange for whatever mark you might have made on this earth. There was no competition between sunshine and a full belly. Then, there were the advertisements… the ones of the brown-eyed girl who had been living on the streets her whole life, walking into a Forever Home that slotted in furniture to depict a toy store where every teddy bear and baby doll was free– the one in which she picked up a bear the size of herself and they waddled into the next room to see a feast of lobster mac and cheese, shrimp gumbo, collared greens. She laughed deliriously and swung her bear up to see the treasure they had found. Dawson had no daughter, she just… She needed to be happy– childishly happy. She needed to eat lobster mac and cheese and hold a bear the size of herself, whether she was in her thirties, her teens, her terrible twos… She deserved that, didn’t she? “So glad you could come check out–” Dawson shoved past the Old Navy man, knocking him into a poorly concealed tower of hydraulic delivery systems. They were the things that carried the shelves, tables, and frivolous things around. She opened the door to the house, proclaimed as OPEN, and looked around to see nothing but an empty, off-white shipping container with subtle slits here and there. “Where’s the ON switch?” He cleared his throat. “Voice control keywords are on the blue poster, but if you...” She slammed the door before he could stick his foot in it. For good measure, she leaned her weight against the door a while, in case he tried to barge in, uninvited. She knew he was only doing a job, but he was still a human with thoughts and feelings, and she would prefer that those thoughts and feelings never perceived her: a butch 32-year-old, sobbing into the teddy bear from the Forever Homes commercials. From the outside, the recruiter only heard the hissing of hydraulics and clanking of metal furniture being pushed in and out of place. Not a whimper could be heard from the outside. Not a word. She emerged with a chapped nose and glassy eyes. “How did you like…?” “Yeah. It was fine, yeah.” Her frown was as forced as his smile. “Well, you can always come back if you change your mind.” “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

Tagging @thecatsgravewrites, @literarynecromancy, and anyone who's read this far!

[watchmegetobsessed]

An Ocean Away - Harry Styles

Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !

a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.7k

masterlist

You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.

Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.

Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.

Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.

Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.

Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…

Y/N: Love you!

Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.

Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.

“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.

“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.

“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.

“Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.

It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.

Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.

Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.

Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.

You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.

“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”

He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.

“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.

You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.

During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.

One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.

Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.

Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.

And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.

Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.

“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.

“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.

“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”

You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.

He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.

“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.

“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.

“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.

“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.

“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.

“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.

You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.

“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.

“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.

Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.

You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.

“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.

“Do you… like them?”

“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”

“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.

Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.

“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.

He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.

You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.

“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”

“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.

His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”

“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.

You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.

“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.

He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.

He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.

“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.

“Feeling good, baby?”

“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.

“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”

“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.

He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.

“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”

You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.

He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.

“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”

“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.

“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.

“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”

“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”

It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.

As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.

The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.

You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.

You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.

Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.

Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.

One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.

“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.

“Why would it be?”

“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”

“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.

“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.

“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!

“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.

You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.

Harry: You look very pretty today :)

Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?

Harry: Can’t help it.

Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!

Harry: Patience!

 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.

“What? Uh, sorry.”

“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.

“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.

“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.

“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.

“Just go without me.”

“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”

“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”

“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”

“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.

“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.

You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.

“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.

“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.

“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.

“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”

“We already talked about this,” he sighs.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”

“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.

“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.

It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.

“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.

“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.

“Because what?!”

“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.

Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.

“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.

“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”

“It does. But we just have to be patient.”

You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.

Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.

As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.

One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.

A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.

“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”

“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.

“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.

“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”

You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.

“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”

“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.

“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”

You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.

“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”

You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.

“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.

“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.

“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.

“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”

“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.

“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.

“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”

Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.

“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.

“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Because it was bullshit.”

“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.

“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.

“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”

“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.

“How long?” Nat questions in shock.

“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”

“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”

“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”

“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”

“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”

“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”

“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.

“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asks.

“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.

“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.

“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.

“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”

“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”

“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”

You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.

“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.

Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.

The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.

At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.

A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.

You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.

When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.

“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.

“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.

“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.

Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.

It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.

“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.

“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.

“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”

You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.

“That’s… wow. London.”

“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”

“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.

“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.

“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”

“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.

“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.

“And what about everything else?”

“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.

“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.

“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.

“Then what?”

“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”

“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”

“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”

“Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”

“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.

“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”

You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.

“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”

“I just extended my contract, you know that.”

“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.

“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.

“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”

“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”

“Then come with me!”

“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”

“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.

“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.

“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”

He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.

“So you think we don’t have a chance?”

“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.

Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.

Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.

“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.

“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.

The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.

You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.

Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.

That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.

The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.

Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.

“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.

“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”

“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.

“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.

“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.

Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.

It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.

Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?

Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!

You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.

“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.

“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.

The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.

“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.

“How early?”

“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.

“Alright.”

“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.

It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.

You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.

You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.

It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.

Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.

It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.

You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.

Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.

You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.

Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.

“Harry!”

His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.

“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.

It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.

But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.

“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.

“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”

“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”

Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.

“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.

“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.

“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”

“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”

“What about after work? When are you getting off?”

“I finish at 5.”

“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”

“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.

“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.

“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.

“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.

Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.

“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.

“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.

“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”

“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.

“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.

“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.

As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?

You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.

Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.

“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.

You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.

“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”

Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.

The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.

“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.

“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”

Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.

“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.

“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.

His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.

“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.

You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.

At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.

“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.

“Love what?”

“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”

“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.

“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.

“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”

“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”

“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”

Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.

He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?

It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.

When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.

“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.

“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.

“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.

“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”

“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”

“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”

“Do you want to?”

“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[ranger-rai]

Alright guys, A lot has happened in the last couple of days so let me catch you all up.

So we have been getting some reports of a "Swarm" of pokemon causing some problems around Sinnoh.

We looked into it and after a couple nights of steakouts, we discovered that our "Swarm" was actually a Purrloin who knew Double Team.

Apparently it had been stealing from alot of small homes, mainly trash.

This Purrloin was incredibly aggressive and seemingly protective of something.

We tracked it down to to a small den just outside of Solaceon Town.

Well we were expecting it to be taking care of its kittens, however we did not expect what we actually found.

-------

We found this Purrloin trying to feed the scraps it stole to a Lycanroc.

The Purrloin was very protective and tried attacking us.

It was surprisingly tough for a single Purrloin, however we managed to restrain it.

However we found it weird that this Dusk Lycanroc wasn't moving or reacting much.

I went and checked it out when it was clear and we found something really unsettling.

This Lycanroc has some spine problems, I know this because it struggled to get up but when it did, it got on four legs, then two legs.

Now a Dusk form Lycanroc is made to be on all four like this

However its back is arced upwards like it's slouching.

It's also shaking a bit, and is covered in scratches and bruises.

Every time I try and get close the Purrloin starts thrashing and clawing.

We let it go and it made its way back to the Lycanroc, and started to guard it again.

We knew this was bad, so we made a plan to try and help them.

-------

We managed to get Purrloin secure once again and Lycanroc into a cage very carefully, but we kept them close together as we transported them.

Lycanroc was surprisingly docile and just seemed tired and dehydrated, so we made sure it got plenty of water.

Purrloin was on edge the whole time, making sure that Lycanroc ate, and keeping us at a distance, but I caught her eating from time to time.

We had to hold her down once again, but she used her double team to evade us for a bit. She really knows how to use that move.

Eventually we restrained her when we got to the Ranger Base and we had a medical technician look at Lycanroc.

They said that it had some severe spine misalignment, not from an injury but from constant strain.

At some point during our conversation, we noticed Lycanroc trying to get up, and "stand up" again on two legs, like a Midnight Form Lycanroc.

It was really odd to see, and the tech helped put it him back onto two legs, but it almost seemed scared to be touched when in that position.

This wasn't battle damage, this was intentional trauma.

Purrloin was definitely upset, and managed to get free and started scratching at the technician.

Thankfully I restrained her so the technician could work more, and I calmed her down a bit.

The tech said that they would need to run some tests on the Lycanroc to see if they could fix his back, so we had to let him stay for a while.

However we couldn't leave Purrloin there in case she tried to attack the tech again.

-------

I didn't want to seperate them, but I needed her to be somewhere safe while the technician did his job, so I got her into a carrier and took her with me on my rounds.

She was hissing and scratching for a while but I sat and talked with her for a bit and she seemed pretty alert but much calmer.

Most of the day was just a usual trip around my areas, however I started finding alot more litter in some areas.

There was alot of trash on the ground in a park area just outside Veilstone City, and normally I would pick it all up, but there was alot, almost like there was a carnival recently there, but there was nothing planned as far as I knew.

I also noticed Purrloin getting really upset and hissing a lot.

I looked around the trash and found a bunch of flyers for some kind of venue.

"Mister E's Enigmas"

The flyer listed a sort of sideshow of oddities.

Things like:

The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers, Dancing Donphan, and their star attraction-

"The Were-Lycanroc" a pokemon that could switch between forms.

That's when it hit me, and I knew someone was going to get in trouble.

-------

After bringing this information to the technician and my boss Jo. Me and my Ranger Team decided to attend the show incognito to see if we were right, and boy we wish we weren't.

We attended what could only be described as a shifty, pop up carnival.

There were a few games, a couple food trucks, and a large tent that held the "main events".

There were some "exotic" holding cages that people could interact with like a small cage for two Emolga to live in, they could barely get into the air before smacking into the roof.

There was a small area that had a large heat lamp for "desert" pokemon, but it was mostly a browning Cacnea, a Trapinch with barely enough sand to cover its body, and a Salandit which didn't belong there.

There were others but we already knew what those cages would be like as well.

The show kn the main stage was getting ready to start, so we decided to check it out.

"Mister E" took to the stage, he had your typical big top attire, top hat, long tails, but he had a stripey pattern that made him look like a hypnotic wheel.

He introduced his first act, which was "The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers". I was worried.

Now Treecko is a Grass Type, and it only learns one grass type move naturally: Sunny Day.

They also don't have any natural immunities to fire types, so this didn't make much sense for normal Treecko.

From what I saw in the act, they learned how to eat fire and pretend they were using flamethrower. However you could tell they didn't like it. Treecko are calm and collected pokemon, but those two looked stressed out, and they were molting a bit in certain areas near their face and tails, probably due to the flames and stress.

After them was the "Dancing Donphan". Donphan is a very heavy pokemon, and it's main skill is rolling like a tire.

This Donphan looked much lighter, like it hadn't been fed its regular amount to keep it healthy.

Minnie also mounted out that the music playing during the dance had a weird sound mixed in. Basically, whenever we heard the sound, Donphan would do a move like jumping or rolling over. The sound was similar to a sort of crash, but it was clear that it was a sound that Donphan was afraid of.

Now came the finale, "The Were-Lycanroc" however that part didn't happen, and instead they brought out some clowns and the Treecko Brothers again.

Thats when we knew what was really happening.

-----

I went back to check on Lycanroc who was sleeping like a log with Purrloin right next to it.

I didn't remember any cages with any feline pokemon in them so maybe it was just a wild Purrloin, but I wasn't going to disturb them to find out.

The doctor told me that it might take some time, but Lycanroc's spine and back legs were forced to move in positions they weren't supposed to for so long, that it would take some time, therapy and equipment to help it.

If there was a chance to help this poor pokemon I knew we would take it, but we also couldn't leave all of those other pokemon to suffer.

We were about to get really busy at the Ranger Base.

------

The next day, Me and Minnie went incognito one more time and we had to sit through that horrible show once more.

We had Skip with us, helping to send info and let us know of any devices or intercept their communications.

Turns out we didn't know that was happening because they had police scanners to avoid getting caught and they had wireless security cameras inside the tent.

They were prepared, but so were we.

My whole team was on board, both Humans and Pokemon.

We had a plan that began with Kuriboh knocking out some generators by sneaking around and unplugging everything he could.

That caused some confusion for a bit while we got in place. While they went to secure their "precious cargo", we made our presence known.

Eddie was outside the tent, dealing with the muscle and moving crews, his Bewear is very strong and pretty quick too, so we didn't need to worry about them much.

However we still had Mister E.

I told Bliss to keep an eye on him so we wouldn't loose him in the panic, but we had a delay as some of the Treeco Bros fire got out of control and some of the tent started to catch on fire.

Minnie and her Cloyster were immediately ready to deal with it and she was ready to help the Treeco Bros as well.

Bliss was able to keep tabs on the ringleader who was trying to get into his van and split, most likely with his cash.

However, Sylvester doesn't like people who mistreat pokemon, and Jo's Tangrowth has some really strong vines. Strong enough to rip car doors off hinges.

------

We had caught this terrible man, and we discovered he had been doing this for a couple of years, just now making his way through Sinnoh, and he was looking for some pokemon to add to his show.

We also watched some of his security tapes and we learned that "Were-Lycanroc" was really just a Dusk Form that he forced to stand up and slouch over by constantly whipping with a flexible stick. And with the assistance of red lights, smoke machines and music, hey could make people think it was changing forms.

We also learned that Purrloin was tossed into Lycanroc's cage, possibly as a "play thing" but I guess he actually made a friend either her and hiding her from Mister E, and she had been caring for him as well, stealing food and causing trouble for them whenever she could.

Needless to say, we were able to get them arrested, and we are now in the process of evaluating some of these pokemon, but we may have too many to deal with here.

We might need to reach out for some help.

------

In the case of Lycanroc and Purrloin, they are comfortably resting in holding, and Lycanroc is be getting fitted for some equipment to help its spine and legs heal.

I'll be checking on them soon, but for now me and my team need to rest after this long day.

[harringtonstudios]

vegas run (III).

plot: it’s the annual las vegas run. let’s see what kinda trouble you get into this year!

A/N: i have finals coming up, but i will update as soon as i can! hope yall are enjoying this as much as i am :’)

masterlist!   (part I).  (part II). 

Checking into the hotel rooms was easier than it had ever been. Slim and Dub had landed an hour earlier, and already gotten the two rooms settled, knowing that most of the night wasn’t spent in them anyway. All you guys did when you got back to the hotels was knock out on the closest bed and then wake up the next morning to do it all over again. 

You threw your duffel bag in the corner of one of the rooms before booking it to the bathroom so you could pee before the festivities started. The plan was simple for today: hit up the first casino you saw, play until the wheels got a little blurry, and then take a break in the fresh air before moving onto the next. 

The bright lights and constant flow of people in Vegas made the nights blend into one, and the only way you would know the actual time was if by some chance your phone hadn’t died yet. The Vegas Run was a gamble on itself and you found yourself ready to waste the week away with poker chips and margaritas. 

Patting your face with some cold water, you took a look in the mirror. You looked good, hair loosely falling around your shoulders. The jean jacket you were wearing paired nicely with your black top and the ripped denim adorning your thighs. 

Leaving the bathroom, you tied up the laces on your Converse before grabbing your mini-backpack from inside your duffel bag. It was extremely small, containing only your wallet and a phone charger. You’d somehow managed to wedge a water bottle in there, and you picked up a pair of fruit snacks that somehow had been dumped on the little desk in the hotel room before zipping it up completely. 

“Good to go?” you asked, eyes moving around the room. 

Slim was collapsed on one of the beds, legs hanging off the edge. He shot you a thumbs-up from under the baseball cap that covered his face as you laughed. Kells was sitting on the floor in between both beds and he got up at your question, moving towards the door. 

“Alright,” you mumbled under your breath, smacking Slim’s leg to get him up as you followed out the door. 

-

The switch to Vegas mode was automatic. Colson propped his hoodie up, hands rifling through his pockets as he pulled out his ID to get into the first casino you all spotted. 

The rest of the boys followed suit, walk eased as they sauntered past the bouncers into the light up floors filled with the sounds of shuffling machines. 

Baze had a tight grip on his girlfriend Ellie’s hand, pulling her along in as you closed up the back of the room, pulling out your own ID as the bouncer waved you past.

The room was loud, sounds filling the air around you as you followed the pack to the bar. Everyone grabbed a drink, and then scattered to the different games being held in the casino. You waited a second back, letting the drink settle in your mouth. Bringing your tongue to your teeth, you looked around trying to figure out which machine you wanted to try your luck with. Playing one of the bigger games wasn’t in your forte, you had a terrible poker face, and a lot of the people that lingered around the tables were naturals, ready to make any money they could. 

Your eyes landed on the slot machines, empty in the corner. You had to convert your actual money to gold coins first, to ply into the machines, and you sighed realizing you were going to lose a lot more money tonight than you wanted to. Feeding the conversion machine a ten dollar bill, you grabbed one of the plastic cups sitting at the top of the machine, filling it with the gold coins that came pouring out. 

-

Half an hour later, you were down to your last three coins. You’d gotten exactly one turn to land exactly on the same three pictures, gaining a net value of five dollars. Not that it made up for the fact that you’d been hiding out in this corner, jamming in coins and sipping on an empty drink. You’d been drinking the melted ice cubes at this point, the lemon wedge you’d been given with it sucked and sitting at the bottom of the cup. 

You rationalized that you didn’t know what exactly you were hiding from, but your mind knew better. Colson had walked by exactly once, two girls plastered at his side. His arm wrapped around their waists, and you had immediately bit your tongue, leaving your mouth open as you had gone to tell him about your little win. It shouldn’t bother you. It didn’t bother you. 

You went for another spin on the machine, pushing away all the thoughts as the screen started spinning. You needed another drink soon, and honestly it wouldn’t hurt to explore the casino a little. There were enough people in here that you would be easily able to find someone from the squad, and they wouldn’t leave without gathering everybody together anyways. 

-

One more drink turned into three and then you were following a blonde into a corner, arm loosely wrapped around his, ice clinking in your glass. The bitter taste of lemon lingered  in your mouth, and you thought you heard someone calling your name, but brushed it off, eager to do a little kissing tonight. 

You didn’t really know who the blonde was, just that he had bought you the two other drinks and played with your fingers as you tapped them against the counter. There was the little part of you that knew why you chose to spend time with him, he’s got the same blue in his eyes, a tattoo peeking out from his shirt. 

Another echo of your name went around the room, louder this time, and you looked up trying to find the culprit, eyes landing on none other than one Machine Gun Kelly. His arm was wrapped around a girl, but the other waved up at you, calling you over. 

“Y/N! Over here,” he shouted again, and you shook your head a little, pausing your walk. 

The blonde tugged at you, “He know you or something?”

“Yeah something,” you started as Colson bellowed out your name again. Rolling your eyes, you dropped the guy’s arm, muttering out a “sorry” as you walked towards the game table. 

“You’re here! Watch me win,” Colson exclaimed, empty hand moving across the table to pick up the red dice. The girl at his side squealed as he started shaking, watching the board as you moved closer to the game master. Locking eyes with you, he grinned and threw you a wink before dropping the dice down. 

“SEVEN!,” the woman standing next to you shouted, arms in the air and suddenly everyone around the table started yelling. The man sitting on your left grumbled, tossing in what seemed like a big stack of cash as you watched Colson jump off the stool, taking the rest of his drink down like a shot in victory. 

You were pretty confused, but clapped nonetheless as the game master wiped the board, chips all gathered on one side again. There was another commotion, and then Kells was leaning across the table, arm stretching out towards you.

“Let’s go, next game,” he mumbled over the noise, and you let him pull you forward until you were flush with the wooden board, awkwardly feeling it dig into your front. 

“Coming,” you muttered back, pulling your arm from his grip and apologizing to the game master who threw a dirty glare in your direction. 

-

Two big poker games later, you were trailing behind Colson as he celebrated his victory for the third time that night. He had started stuffing the money he was making into your backpack, eagerly shoving it in as the prices of his win kept going up. 

Every game, he would ask you to stand across from him, eyes meeting yours any time the dice ended up in his fists. It was fun, watching the energy build up as he worked towards another win, but it had gotten repetitive. 

You weren’t even playing, just standing opposite him, often leaning on the table, or letting your eyes wander around trying to find the blonde you’d let go of earlier. 

“You’re my good luck charm I swear,” came his voice rumbling as you stumbled behind him approaching the bar. 

“I thought we were gonna play another game?” you asked as you moved back to your spot on the bar, leaning against the slightly sticky countertop, ignoring the way your chest tightened when he said those words.

Colson put his head down. 

“Yeah, yeah. Need to get my head on straight or I’m gonna lose everything you’ve gotten me,” he mumbled out, fingers signaling the bartender back. 

You waited for him to get his drink, catching the way his movements seemed a little slower than usual. There was no way of you actually knowing how much he had to drink already, but you knew from previous years that the minute he slowed down, he’d hit a limit. 

“Do you- uh have a joint?” you asked, hoping that he’d say yes so you two could go get a breather outside. 

“Do I have a joint? Who do you think I am Y/N,” he mocked back, one hand already going into his jacket. 

“Can’t smoke in here,” you pointed out the obvious, your hand rushing to cover his, “outside?”

“Mhm,” he said, nodding before downing his drink. 

You took your own vodka sprite, leading him out. You could feel his arm find its place around your shoulder and you relished in the comfort it gave you, warm and grounding as the lights around you started to spin. A few of the guys were lingering around and you smiled, seeing Ellie shout on as Baze spun one of the wheels. 

-

Moving into the cool air, you sidestepped the bouncer pulling Colson alongside you. Purple fluorescent lights bounced off of the surfaces, illuminating the sidewalk beneath your feet. People were bustling around, cars honking as a group stood in the middle of the street, flash going off as they took a picture. 

“Fuck we should’ve stayed inside,” Colson mumbled into your ear, bending down so you could hear him over the noise. 

Just then, something went flying over your head, landing right by your feet. It was a bright orange flyer turned into a paper airplane, and you turned around to see the perpetrator but they were long gone, caught up in the hubble of people crossing the sidewalk. You stepped over it, taking a breath before looking around to see if there was a space to chill anywhere.

A second later, you felt a hand reach yours, fingers grabbing on tightly. Looking up at Colson, he grinned down at you before walking in front, leading you across the active streets. You could see cars approaching in the distance, panic building up in you as he mindlessly strolled the lanes. 

Your first thought was to grind your heels but then you realized that both of you would just end up stranded in the middle of the road and that wasn’t ideal. Deciding to rush along forward, you passed Colson as his laugh echoed behind you. 

“C'mon fucker,” you spat into the wind, fingers still clutching his as you dragged him forward this time around. 

There was the beeping of a horn, and then a car went straight past the both of you as your feet hit the curb and you pulled him onto the sidewalk. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure Y/N?” he asked, eyebrows raising as a glare covered your features. 

“Standing in the middle of the street is NOT an adventure,” you ripped back, as he pulled up your joined hands to his face, turning them around. 

“When’d you hold my hand?” he asked, face distorted in confusion. 

“You held my hand,” you responded right back, knowing damn well he’d grabbed onto you first. 

“Oh,” he nodded, dropping your hands back down but not letting go. You furrowed your brows but let it go, at least this way you two wouldn’t lose each other in some crowd.

After a minute of standing in silence at the edge of the sidewalk, you looked around, wondering why the two of you were stuck here. 

“Why’d we cross the road?” you asked. 

“The dudes,” he explained, making absolutely no sense as he slyly pointed to the edge of the sidewalk with a head tilt. Following his motion, you saw a group of guys sitting on the curb, smoke clouds surrounding them. You could see a bong being passed around, and you grimaced, not even wanting to see how dirty the water might be. 

“I’m not smoking with them,” you clarified as he laughed. 

“Lost my lighter, I was gonna ask for theirs,” he voiced before finishing out with, “if it’s cool with you?”

You nodded, happy with the idea of him asking for permission. He dropped your hand then, walking over to the little group and you wiped your palm on your jeans, hoping it wasn’t as sweaty as you were feeling under the red, emanating lights of the club doors. 

Pulling out your phone, you glanced a look at the time. You still had half battery, and you sent out a quick text to the group chat, letting them know that you and Kells were taking a little bit of a breather outside, coincidentally leaving out the part about a joint. Slim got real upset when you wouldn’t include him in the smoke breaks during Vegas run, and you didn’t really want to share this with anyone else right now. 

-

“Got it lit,” Colson mumbled behind you as you turned around. The joint was already in his mouth, orange glow at the end lighting up, and you reached up for it, taking it from his lips into yours. 

Breathing in, you let the weed hit your lungs, feeling full. Blowing it out, you could already feel the lightheadedness and you smiled, knowing that in about five minutes, you’d be floating in space. Passing it back to him, you started walking again following the flow of the thinning crowd. 

You knew he was following you, could tell by the faint smell of weed lingering around, but you reached back anyway, curious to see what would happen. 

Cold fingers found yours, and you smiled at the familiar feeling of nerves building up in your stomach. This time around you were prepared for them. 

-

You’d been walking for some time now, the joint often passed between the two of you, hands swinging occasionally. You’d passed two Elvis impersonators, a wedding chapel decked out in bright pink, and three dudes in mohawks ripping out skateboarding tricks right in the middle of the street. The last one peaked Colson’s interest and you both stood there for a few minutes, cheering on the guys as they landed a high jump. 

You were a few blocks down and all of a sudden you both seemed to have stumbled into an impromptu concert. There was a little circle formed around, and you decided to check out what instrument was blasting out the music you could hear. Moving into the circle, you stepped closer until you saw the girl band. They had guitars and a smaller drum set propped up, a microphone placed as one of them stepped up and started singing again. They were covering some old song, and you moved to the beat, letting her voice shape up the melody. 

Colson was right next to you, the last of the joint glowing as he held it in his mouth, swaying up and down to the beat. The song finished, claps filling up the air around you. Before you could say anything, Colson let go of your hand again. 

Stomping out the burnt joint, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. Moving to where there was a bucket set for collection, he dropped a couple of bills, before turning back to you and finding your hand in the dark again. 

“That was awfully nice of you,” you snickered, finding happiness after the music filled up your veins. 

“They were hard. Probably gonna take over the world someday” he mumbled, knocking your shoulder with his own.

You hummed in agreement, letting the crowd guide you to your next destination. Vegas was weird, but the exact type of weird you needed right now. Reality seemed so far away and you let yourself live in the moment, enjoying the feeling of being lost within the crowds with someone you cared about. 

-

 taglist: @iamdorka​ @no-shxt-sherl​ @bakerkells​ @findingmyths​ @rosegoldrichie​ @mayaslifeinabox​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @hnbtx​​  @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​​ @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @whyisgmora​ @oopsiedoopsie23

[sleepless-stories]

Limitations AU |Meetings and a Meeting (end)

Summary: Roman, Virgil, Janus, Patton all go to a meeting of some sort of therapy group and become friends and play games. 

Warnings: None

Note please know that research was done for this series and people with some disabilities used did help with the ideas. if you find something wrong with this series please DM me

________________

Logan sat on Roman’s bed listening to him work and reading a book. Paper cutting, the occasional typing of a keyboard, fabric rustling, and quiet music from Roman’s playlist, which was primarily Disney and Musicals, playing. Roman cut the paper and glued it together, creating a paper puppet of a dragon. He was planning on doing another film with Logan soon. Though they were just relaxing and hanging out right now, planning a bit of the film occasionally.

 The door suddenly opened and Remus popped in, “H-hey bro, ready? Ready to go y-yet?” Roman looked over tilting his head slightly, he didn’t remember having to go anywhere. He didn’t believe he had any plans. Remus noticed Roman’s confusion and him getting lost in thought and laughed a bit, “For-forget al-already?” he laughed a bit, “It’s that st-tupid group therapy thing. I don’t… I don’t see why Mom signed you, you up for it.” Logan glanced over, “Group therapy?” “Yeah Nerd, Thera-py. It’s pro-bably just, just an excuse for Roman to, to get out of the ho-house and make Fr-friends.” Remus shrugged, today seemed to be a good day for him. Sometimes he had bad days and good days regarding his stutter. On bad days he felt like he couldn’t form a sentence without messing up almost every word. But today was alright. Logan nodded, “Could you drive me home after you drive him there?” “Why?” Remus asked. “Well, I walked here with Roman. I didn’t drive today at all, my parents needed the car.” Remus nodded, “Fine I, I’ll drive you.” Logan nodded looking back at his book before noticing the lights flickering. He lowered it looking over at Roman who was standing by the light switch. Roman smiled when Remus and Logan looked at him, ‘Thank you.’ he signed, ‘When do we have to get going?’ Remus watched then checked his phone looking at the time, “Now.” Roman rolled his eyes with an exasperated look as he went over looking in his mirror making sure he looked presentable, aka no glue or paper on him. Then he grabbed his jacket. Logan sat up stuffing his book in his bag before getting off of Roman’s bed and following the two out of the room and to the car. Near the front door he grabbed his jacket and shoes, putting them on, before they all left the house. Remus got into the car starting it up and turning on the radio, before he started driving to the address. It was across town and seemed to be at some community center, it was a place where people could rent rooms like office spaces or meeting rooms for any sort of thing they needed it for. Roman plugged his phone into the car and took over the music, starting to play his playlist some more throughout the ride. Logan just went back to reading his book for awhile till he lost interest. It wasn’t that the book wasn’t interesting or good, it really was a great book. But he just felt a bit bored of it currently and couldn’t read any more of it, that and he had been rereading the same paragraph for a while now and barely taking in what the words said. So he just sat back looking out the window as they drove through town. ____________

Virgil saw the flyer on the counter, group therapy. He knew his parents didn’t think much of him, but group therapy? For someone as anxious as him, that idea was shit. Why send someone who has an anxiety disorder to therapy with other random people they don’t know. Virgil stared at the paper, he had already determined that it would be the worst 3 hours of his life. But… it did mean he would be out of the house and away from his parents for 3 hours on the weekend. So… brightside. Virgil dropped the paper on the counter again before going back to his room. He was actually surprised about one thing though, his parents in question… weren’t actually home currently, which was shocking. His parents had a bad habit of being overbearing and over protective, or just fancy way of saying they were controlling. Virgil constantly was yelled at when he wanted to just go out of the house for a walk, saying how he couldn’t, he would get hurt, he’s too disabled to be on his own. Which was a really shitty excuse for their controlling nature. Virgil sat down on his bed and checked his phone, it was Saturday late afternoon, the group wasn’t for a few more hours, and his parent’s weren’t currently home. Virgil powered off his phone then put on his shoes and jacket before walking out of the house and down the street. He walked down the street not too far from the park in their neighborhood and went to a house. Most of the house was brand new, newly rebuilt, due to the fire a couple months ago. Virgil got to the door and knocked before standing there and waiting. Janus heard knocks at the door and stood up walking to the door. His bedroom was on the first floor right off of their living room. He walked out of his room to the front door. Thomas lifted his head up looking at Janus from where he was laying on Janus’ bed. He watched Janus walk out of the room before stretching and getting up following. Janus heard Thomas following and pulled a treat out of his pocket and gave it to the dog. He went over and opened up the door, “Virgil.” he asked as he opened the door. Virgil saw the door open and watched Janus’ lips, “Yeah.” he replied. Janus heard then smiled recognizing Virgil’s voice. “Come in, We’ll sit on the couch.” he said, still facing Virgil before turning and walking over to the couch and sitting. Virgil nodded, “Ok.” he followed. Virgil shut the door behind himself then went over and sat on the back of the couch before pulling out his phone and typing. “Apparently I have to go to stupid therapy.” the tts said. Janus heard and laughed turning in Virgil’s direction, “Wow, your parents are letting you out of the house?” “Yeah, surprising right?” “Oh absolutely, though I too have to go to some therapy group… My parents have been concerned since the fire.” “Yeah” Virgil nodded. Janus went silent and just leaned back, “You could hang out here for awhile.” Virgil nodded, “Thanks.” he put his phone away and leaned back relaxing. Virgil stayed for only an hour before he walked back home glad his parents were still out. He just went to his room and relaxed closing his eyes and napping for the time being until his parents were back and drove him to the stupid meeting. _____

Patton was in the living room sitting on the couch watching some show, his cat was laying in his lap demanding attention while he was adding more stickers to the side of his wheelchair. “Patton? We should get going so you’re not late.” his mother said walking into the room. Patton looked up, “Oh ok… why do I have to go?” “Because, it’ll be good, you’ll have fun.” Patton sighed and pulled himself off the couch and into the wheelchair. His cat got off his lap and looked at Patton betrayed. Patton wheeled himself to the door and put on his jacket before he went out of the house with his mom. He was helped into the car and sat there looking out the window. It wasn’t the first time he had to go to therapy through the years. He sighed watching as they went to the meeting. __________

Roman walked into the meeting, Remus and Logan decided to follow him in to make sure he got to the right place. Roman looked and saw a door with a cartoon of some guy and a speech bubble saying come right in. Under the character there was information saying what the meeting was. Roman opened the door walking inside the room. Inside the room there was a guy wearing a sweater, a pink tie, and some jeans was setting up the room. He turned when he heard the door open, “Oh! Hello! I’m Emile.” He smiled and signed as he spoke, “Welcome, are you three here for the meeting?” Remus threw his arm over Roman’s shoulders, “N-nope, just, just bringing my ner-nerd bro here.” He replied then pushed Roman forward. Roman stumbled forward then glared at Remus before smiling at Emile and waving. Remus looked at Logan, “Let’s go. See, see ya later bro.” Remus walked out of the room leaving and going back to his car. Logan waved bye to Roman before following Remus out and to his car. Roman sat down in a chair.

Only after 5 minutes three people came into the room, one in a wheelchair. A woman pushed the wheelchair inside, “Hello! This is Patton.” she said and brought the kid in the chair over to the sitting area. Patton smiled, “Hello.” he greeted. The third person went to the back of the room, he was carrying a fold up table with him and put it down setting it up. Emile walked over to the guy and talked with him. The woman, Patton’s mom, waved goodbye and left. She paused at the door holding it open for two guys and a dog before she walked out leaving. Patton lifted himself out of his chair and sat down on the couch next to Roman, “Hi! Roman smiled and waved slightly back. The two guys walked over and sat on the couch opposite to Roman and Patton. Emile smiled and walked back over, “Hello, shall we begin?” he asked, making sure to sign along with what he said. He smiled and looked at Patton, “Why don’t you go first then we’ll go around the room.” Patton nodded grinning, “I’m Patton! Nice to meet you all!” Roman nodded and looked at Emile, “I’m Roman.” Emile repeated, translating for Roman. He then looked at the other two. “I’m Virgil.” Virgil signed then elbowed Janus next to him after he watched Emile repeat him. Janus sighed, “I’m Janus, this is Thomas my eyes. No you can’t pet him.” Janus greeted. Emile nodded, “Alright! Nice to meet you all. I’m Doctor Emile Picani!” He grinned then motioned for someone to come over. The guy from earlier walked over to them. “Hey.” he smiled pushing his sunglasses off and to the top of his head. “I’m Remy. I’m catering basically. So… there’s food over there.” He nodded smiling then stepped back going back over to the area he set up. Everyone waved at him before looking at Emile. Emile smiled, “We’re mostly going to play some games, and talk a bit.” Emile said and nodded grabbing a few things before starting. Roman and Virgil got grouped up and Janus and Patton got grouped up. Originally Emile had paired Virgil and Patton and Janus and Roman… it didn’t work too well, Patton was excited and spoke too fast for Virgil to understand him, then Roman had difficulties communicating with Janus. The games went well.

Near the end of the meeting they went over and ate snacks. Roman laughed softly watching Remy failing at flirting up Emile who didn’t even realize. He was pretty sure Remy volunteered to cater to flirt with Emile. They all hung out, talking and eating. Remus came into the room to pick up Roman and smiled, “Hey Bro!” He said and walked over. He grabbed some food and ate Roman waved at Remus. Remy glanced over, “I see you have a twin, that’s cool. Hey, what do you think of the food?” Remus looked up, “It’s good, have you ever tried adding peppers and pineapple to cookies?” Remy Paused, “Nope, do you have any other ideas?” Remus went over to him telling him a bunch of other ideas he thought of. Remy took notes. Before leaving Patton, Roman, Janus, and Virgil exchanged numbers finding each other fun. Everyone was taken home, it was almost dark out by now while they all went home. Roman ended up texting Logan about the meeting telling him how they mostly played games and he was excited to go again. Logan was glad he had fun at the meeting.

_________________________ General Tag List @crazy-multifandomfangirl @aceawkwardunicorn​ @mistythegenderqueermess

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .6.

thursday

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Warnings: non/dub con sex (you know what it is ;))

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader spends her last night in the Rogers’ household.

Note: OMG it’s the finale! Hope y’all are ready because I sure as fuck am not. But let’s get snappin’.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think!

…

It was your last full day with Kylie. With Steve. You were exhausted. The week had lasted much longer than anticipated. And the night. You spent most of it awake. Not just because Steve slept on the other side of your wall but because of the itch which never fully faded. Every time you about to doze, it woke you. Your thighs tickled and your core pulsed. He had left you wanting and you suspected it was no accident.

When the sun rose, you did too. You kept quiet. You listened until you heard movement in the next room. Steve's door opened and shut, his footsteps paused in the hallway. A light graze along the other side. A sigh. He carried on and left you to finally breathe.

You bathed if only to waste time. You were drawn from the tub by a knock. It was Kylie. As promised, she'd awoken early.

She entered as you held tight your towel. She was ready for the day. A black bathing suit with cut-outs complemented her perfect figure. Your flower bathing suit was out of the question and your bikini bottoms were missing. Your other option was the bright yellow frilly piece your mom had bought you. Oh well, you’d just be lounging in the pool.

You changed and followed her into the hall. The house was eerily quiet. It felt oddly empty. You listened for any noise from the room next to yours or below. Kylie slipped her sunglasses on as she descended the stairs lazily. You trailed her, your ears pricked for any sign of life.

“My dad went into town,” She yawned as she led you into the kitchen, “Something about his motorcycle? I dunno. He’s been working on that thing for years.” 

“Oh,” You let out a silent breath of relief.

She rounded the island and pulled out a pitcher from the fridge and a tray of ice. “I figured ice coffees by the pool will be a great start to the day,” She grinned. “A lazy day to end your visit.”

“Thank god,” You smiled. “I’m not looking forward to a summer at the banquet hall.”

“Yeah, but the tips,” She took out two glasses and added ice. “My mom got me a job at a newspaper. Folding flyers.”

“Shit,” You frowned as she poured the cold brew and replaced the pitcher in the fridge. “I’d gladly trade weddings for the menial work.”

“If only,” She slid your coffee across to you. “Oh well, let’s just enjoy the sun.”

“When do you go to your mom’s?” You asked as you stepped out into the yard. Birds chirped merrily and you could smell the freshly cut grass over the fence. 

“Another week. Figure it’s enough time to say goodbye to Taylor.” She sat on a lounger and sipped her drink. “He’s dropping out, eh? His parents are pissed.”

“Really?” You draped your towel over the back of the chair and sat.

“He hates it. He’s not one for reading, you know?” She shrugged. “It’s all just a waste of time. If my parents weren’t down my throat about it, I wouldn’t even be there. I just wanna go live in a big city and be me.”

“Yeah,” You took a gulp and set down the glass carefully beside your beach chair. “I don’t know what to do if I don’t get the switch. I mean, I could still write in my spare time but...whatever. You’re right, let’s just chill and worry about it later.”

“Ooh, I like vacation you,” She giggled. “I’ll enjoy her while she lasts.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” You snapped.

“Nah, not at all, mom,” She teased, “Don’t worry, it’s what I like about you. All my other friends encourage my bad decisions.”

You shook your head and put your own sunglasses on as you reclined. You were okay with spending your last day doing nothing. It would be a nice reprieve before a day spent driving to a summer of work.

-

Steve returned that afternoon. The sun’s heat had softened and you floated around the pool in half a slumber. Your heart fluttered as you heard the car engine and the subsequent open and close of the front door. The house muted all other noise and you prayed he did not come looking for you.

It was almost twenty minutes before he made his appearance. Your sunbathed trance had broke and you were antsy atop your floatie. You fidgeted as you tried to balance the still unfinished book and glanced to the glass doors as they slid open.

“Hey,” Steve appeared in a short-sleeve button-up and shorts. Kylie waved to him as she texted at the edge of the pool. “You look...relaxed.”

“What’s up, dad?” She grumbled as she tore her eyes from her screen.

“Just checking on you guys,” He sat on the lounger you had formerly occupied. “Have you had lunch?”

“Dad, we can fend for ourselves,” She shook her head and set her phone down as she pushed herself away from the side of the pool. “We’re adults.”

“I know,” He smiled and she didn’t notice as his eyes strayed to you. You closed your book and shielded your chest with it. “I was just trying to be nice.” He sighed and blocked the sun from his eyes. “I ran into Taylor’s mom...she asked how you were doing?”

Kylie sat up and nearly turned over her floatie. “You’re checking in on me. Dad, me and Taylor--”

“I don’t have a problem with Taylor,” He asserted, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She leaned back slowly.

“You didn’t mention he was going away,” He scratched his chin as he spoke. “I know it’s probably difficult but--”

“What do you mean going away?” Kylie’s floatie shook dangerously again as she jolted up.

“I thought you...knew,” He seemed genuinely perplexed, though you had found him to be a great actor. “He’s leaving on Sunday...for enlistment.”

“Enlistment?” Her voice peaked and she dove off her floatie. She broke the surface and dragged herself through the water back to her phone at the edge. “I didn’t--He didn’t tell me.”

She climbed out and dialed her phone as she stormed to the glass door. You gaped and Steve met your gaze. A grin slowly spread across his face. Shit. This wasn’t new information. This was an expertly timed reveal of a secret he’d been holding onto. 

You swallowed and paddled yourself over to the ladder. You climbed out and Steve stood. He moved into your path as you made to follow Kylie.

“Get out of my way,” You hissed.

“I got you a gift,” He kept his distance but his eyes embraced you. It was as if you could feel the things he was thinking of doing to you. “I left it on your bed.”

“I…” You sidestepped him but he didn’t try to stop you. His fingers merely brushed along your thigh and snapped the bottom of your swimsuit. “I gotta go check on Kylie.”

You scurried around him and through the door. You could hear Kylie’s voice from upstairs and you glanced back to the yard. Steve had turned to watch you but did not follow. His hands were on his hips in a victorious pose. He knew what he had done.

-

Kylie spent an hour on the phone with Taylor. Then the rest of the night texting him as you tried to comfort her. She was too distracted, too angry to notice your own distress. When she didn’t have her phone, she was in tears or fits of rage. You listened to her rants as she paced restlessly or collapsed weakly on her bed.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” She bemoaned as she slumped on her bed. “He was just going to leave me.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your last day had taken a sour turn and you had zero relationship advice to offer. You had avoided men for most of your life. You didn’t get them either. They seemed more stressful than anything. The last week had confirmed as much.

“Kylie, maybe he was scared to tell you,” You peeked out the window just beyond her bed. It was dark out. Past nine already. Your evening had wasted away with her temper. “I’m sure he meant to but it’s probably hard for him, too.”

“Ugh,” She kicked her feet and stood with a growl. “I just...I have to talk to him.”

“Kylie,” You rose, “Come on, it’s my last night.”

“And it might be my last chance to say goodbye,” She whined. “I’m sorry, but I might not see him...ever again.”

“You have two days left to say goodbye,” You pleaded.

“I promise I’ll be back to see you off,” She took her phone and tucked it in her pocket. “Please.”

You sighed. You really didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to be here alone. But how much could you take of her fits? You knew she was going to leave whether you agreed or not. She already had her keys in her hand.

“Fine, I guess I can’t say no,” You muttered. “Go.”

“Thank you,” She grabbed your hand, “Really. I know I’m being a shit friend but…”

You pulled your hand from her grip and crossed your arms. “Just go.”

Her blonde lashes lowered in guilt but she left without another word. She brushed past you and rushed through her door and down the stairs. No pretense in hiding her departure. You listened from her open door as she hurried out. Her engine turned and tore down the drive. 

You quietly pulled shut her door and tiptoed down the hall. You pushed through into your own room and it clicked behind you as you entered. You crossed to your bed and fell onto it with a groan. You kept yourself from screaming into the pillow as you landed on an unseen object. You sat up and climbed off the crumpled cardboard.

You shifted the lid off the box and blinked at its contents. You peeled away the tissue paper to fully uncover the lacy lingerie. There was no ass or crotch in the lilac panties, merely a series of lacy straps and a bra to match which could barely conceal your chest. A knock came at your door.

You stood but it opened without awaiting your answer. Steve let the door fall open and you stared at him as you held the pale bra. He smiled and crossed his arms. 

“You opened it.” You tossed the bra on the bed and stepped back. “Oh sweetie, let’s not play this game.”

You looked to the lingerie strewn on the bed and gulped. You should’ve locked the door. Why hadn’t you locked the door?

“Go on, change. I’ll wait out in the hall,” He coaxed, “I just…I like surprises, don’t you?”

He slowly backed out and closed the door. His weight shifted the wood as he leaned against the other side. Whether you did what he wanted or not, he’d come back in and make you. He had crafted the situation so well. You couldn’t say no, even if you could’ve found your voice.

It was two minutes before you found your wits. You looked down at your bathing suit and shook your head. You peeled it off and let it pool at your feet. You stepped out of it and untangled the purple panties. You pulled them on, though it was no easy task to figure them out. The bra was easier though it offered just as little coverage.

You peeked at your body. The top of your breasts propped up by the underwire, only the top of your vee hidden by the lace. A gentle tap came at the door. “You okay, sweetie?”

You flinched. Your shock slaked away and you forced your feet across the room. You couldn’t muster words, only opened the door to reveal yourself. He backed up and looked you up and down. He grinned and took your hand.

“You look amazing, sweetie,” His other palm tickled your side. He turned you down the hall and led you to the top of the stairs. “Come on.”

“Wh-where are we going?” You whispered.

“I meant it when I said I wanted you on that counter,” He tugged you down the steps as he descended on ahead of you. “I’ve been thinking of it since that first morning.”

“Steve…” You came to the bottom and planted your feet, “I…” You heart raced and you could barely hear yourself think.

“You don’t have to be scared,” He reached up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “I won’t hurt you. Have I hurt you?”

You shook your head and looked down. He cradled your face in his large hand and pushed your chin up. He bent to kiss your lips. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, we’ll keep it slow.”

He walked backwards and led you into the kitchen. He pushed the dimmer up halfway and turned so that you were ahead of him. He guided you backwards and stopped you just beside the island. He leaned in and kissed you again. This time he pressed his tongue along your lips. You opened your mouth and let him explore. You’d never been kissed like that.

His hands grazed along your sides, from shoulder to hip and back again. He tickled your waist and gripped it firmly. He lifted you without drawing away. He slid you onto the counter, your legs hanging over the marble as he pushed between them. He buried his hand in your hair and dragged his lips from yours.

He bent as he kissed and nibbled along your jaw and neck. Then your shoulders and teased along your collarbone. He cupped your tits as he kissed the top of them and pushed his face between them. He nudged you back so that you fell flat against the counter top. 

He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulders and pulled the cups past your breasts. You untangled your arms as he took a nipple in his mouth and the lacy bra slipped further down your torso. You shivered and he reached up to caress your cheekbone. He held your head in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb along your jawline.

He tended to you gently with his mouth. Pinched your nipple firmly with his other hand and you moaned. You were on fire at his touch. Your mind was a storm of shame and lust. You shouldn’t be doing this, but it felt so nice.

His hand continued down your body, along your stomach to trace the line of your panties. His finger delved past the lace to your exposed pussy and he ran his index over your clit. You twitched and he did it again. Your body responded without thought.

His mouth followed his hand and he got to his knees. He pulled you closer to the edge and hooked your legs over his shoulders. He replaced his finger with his tongue and you sighed. You clapped your hand over your mouth. You were shocked at your own pleasure. This was Kylie’s father; a man twice your age. It was so wrong.

His tongue chased away your doubts and you pushed your head back into the marble as he danced around your clit. He delved between your folds with his index and middle fingers. He dragged them along your pussy as his mouth played with your bud. Your wetness mixed with his saliva and he hummed.

“Sweetie,” He drew away just slightly and looked up at you, “You taste so good.”

You closed your eyes and covered your face with your hands. He reached up and tugged at your arms. You let your hands slip down and he guided them to the back of his head. He went back to work with his tongue and pressed his index to your entrance. He pushed inside just a little and you gasped.

He entered slowly and you trembled. His tongue eased the pressure and he moved his finger in and out. An odd sensation began to bloom. More intense than before. He added another finger and curled them inside of you as he toyed with your clit. Your legs tensed around his head and you latched onto his gold and silver hair.

You arched your back as the wave washed over you. So sudden, so sharp that you cried out and clung to him desperately. Your orgasm left you breathless and weak. He slowly pulled out as he raised his head. He licked your cum from his lips and fingers as he stood.

“Wasn’t that nice, sweetie?” Your head lolled back and forth as you crossed your arms over your body. The afterglow held you in a senseless haze. “It was, wasn’t it?” He cooed and began to unbutton his shirt.

You counted your breaths as they slowed and your vision cleared. He dropped his shirt to the floor, then his shorts. You peered down at him and removed his underwear with a smirk up at you. He stood and stroked his cock as he neared. You closed your legs and he softly touched your knees.

“Come on, sweetie, was that so bad?” He tickled your thighs, “Don’t you want more?”

You bit your lip and spread your fingers along your chest. You couldn’t look at him as you nodded and let your legs fall slack. He pushed between them and you shivered. The tip of his cock poked at your pussy and you lifted your head to look down at him.

“It’s okay,” His cock slid over your pussy as he bent over you. He slipped his hand beneath your head as he kissed you and his other hand ventured down your body. He pulled away and whispered. “Just a little bit of pain, sweetie.”

You pressed your palms to his chest as he rubbed his cock along your pussy. You could feel yourself getting even wetter. He groaned and lined himself up and you inhaled sharply. He kissed your cheek and pressed his lips to your ear. 

“Are you ready, sweetie?” He asked but didn’t wait for your answer as he slowly pushed inside. You whimpered as he entered you. Only a little before he paused and caressed your temple with his thumb. “Just breathe and relax. Remember.”

You closed your eyes and grimaced as he continued. There was a moment of resistance as he got further in and sudden pang. You yelped. 

“Steve,” You grabbed his shoulders and pushed on him. “Ugh, Steve,” You begged, “It hurts.”

He stopped and pulled out until only his tip was inside of you. He shushed and pushed in again. “Just a little more,” He said softly. 

He stretched you terribly as he went even deeper this time. You dug your nails into his shoulders as the tears pricked at your eyes. Your breaths were loud and thick. You were almost choking on the pain as he brought himself to his limit. He stilled and you whined through gritted teeth.

“You’re so tight, sweetie,” He wiggled his hips and you groaned. “Fuck.”

He eased out of you and you shook. He thrust back in, just as slow as before but it still hurt. He repeated the motion several more times, each easier than the last. Your arms slipped around his neck and he kissed you. His lips smothered yours as his pace grew steadier. The agony dwindled and soon you felt the familiar warmth. The pain was but an echo in the distance.

“There,” He said as he leaned his forehead against yours, “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Y-yes,” Your voice was small as your chest hammered. “Ahhhhh.”

“Yeah?” He picked up his pace just a little, “You like that, sweetie?”

“Y-y-yeah,” You clung to him and his head fell down next to yours. 

You moaned in his ear as you brought your legs up around his back. He got even deeper and you cried out. He went even faster but the ache was overwhelmed by the heat flowing through you. He thrust into you again and again and again. He never wavered, only sped up until your sweaty back glided along the marble.

You hugged him to you as he plucked at your nerves. They twisted to a point and shattered all at once. You exclaimed as you orgasmed once again and he groaned in your ear. His motion grew erratic and he pulled out suddenly. His hand pushed between your bodies and he stroked himself until his cum spilled onto your thigh.

He held himself up on his elbow as he looked down at you. His eyes were smoky; dark. He broke your embrace as he stood and glanced down at himself. His pelvis was streaked red. You blanched and sat up quickly. You peeked at the counter between your legs, his cum and your blood sticky along the marble.

“Aw, sweetie, let’s get you cleaned up,” He turned and grabbed a dish towel from a drawer. 

He wetted it beneath the faucet and returned to you. You stared down at the mess in shock. Had you really just done that? He wiped the blood away tenderly from your thighs before cleaning himself. Lastly, he sopped up the mess on the counter and tossed the cloth in the trash.

He came close again, his hands on your hips as he lifted you from the counter. He cradled you in his arms as he carried you through the door and to the stairs. “There’s a few more things I need to show you, sweetie…” He climbed the steps slowly. “We’ve only go tonight.”

...

END

-

tags to be added in reblog

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 9/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774  

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

The telephone blared again. He was standing in front of the bay windows which, fittingly, looked out onto the San Francisco Bay. It was drowning in fog as usual, in the swirling tendrils re-emerging from the ocean. The red headed man stood frozen in place. The ringing recommenced. He didn’t make a move. It began once more. He ignored it.

Once the device on his polished desk finally shut up, Hux checked his watch briefly and retrieved a cellphone from his pocket. She responded.

“Phasma.”

“I’m listening.”

“I hear there has been a development.”

“Everything has been set in motion. The car is heading north. Ms. Skywalker has booked a flight, the Tico sisters closed up shop and are headed south.”

“Where are you?”

“Following the car. The driver is a girl I don’t recognize. She must be a new recruit. English accent, has a dog with her. Haven’t been able to ID her yet.”

“Photo?”

“I sent it to you.”

“I’ll look into it. Anything else?”

“Yes.”

Her breathing quickened as though her heart had just skipped a beat. Hux froze, not daring to breathe. She would have to spit it out sooner or later.

“Sir, I...I was caught red handed. The girl made a scene out in the middle of the street too, she’ll probably gut me alive if she sees me again.”

Hux cursed under his breath. Whoever this girl was she was a fresh recruit for Earth Soldiers. Ever since he began dealing with these eco terrorists he had noticed that their mascot of a car rarely ever appeared, and even when it did it was always in the hands of the old-timers. And no one that he knew of ever got close enough to Leia Skywalker.

The moles that he had planted with care, excellent professionals like Bazine Netal, Boba Fett,  or Lando Clarissian never approached Skywalker level. Not even after months of distributing flyers and manifestos as stand-in rebel scum. Some were even kidnapped or worse...others switched sides. Hux slid his thumb over the screen to observe the photo Phasma had sent.

His eyes widened. She was young, likely under thirty, clad in denim and boots. Her demeanor entirely jaded.

She had been observed talking discreetly to Rose Tico, then spotted again at Leia Skywalker’s hideout, and finally caught in the act of driving the Millennium Falcon.

That made no sense. The heart of their pathetic born-again organization was in Denver, centered around old woman Skywalker. Her every move was monitored. Where did this girl come from? Who had trained her? How was she able to escape all of the eyes on the field until now?

He closed his eyes as his hand tightened into a fist. He had to regain control of his breathing. He held the phone to his ear again.

“Phasma.”

She was still on the line. No one hung up on Armitage Hux.

“Sir?”

“Come back. Don’t give her a reason to sound the alarm. Who else is in play?”

“Ren. And his clique.”

“Come to my office first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yes sir.”

Hux hung up. Then he composed a series of directives to send from his smartphone. The Tico sisters had disappeared. They had to be located, never to be out of sight. Leia Skywalker was on 24/7 watch, they had to know where she was, what she was doing, what she was carrying, who she was talking to. The entirety of Earth Soldiers was moving at once, like a disoriented nest of ants. Connix, Antilles, Milham...he was had received notifications sent by his field agents from all over Colorado. But he knew it was merely a distraction. Skywalker would end up in California sooner or later. It was only a matter of time and patience.

His phone vibrated in his hand and he paled at the caller ID. Snoke.

The president of the First Order was certainly already aware of the movement of the activist group, he demanded a full debriefing.

Hux pursed his lips, placing his hands behind his back. He didn’t quite know what was going on himself, he hadn’t succeeded in figuring out the rebel strategy. But he was confident in his ability to counteract their plans, whatever they were.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t sure what to tell Snoke. It would have to be enough to let him know that the situation was being handled.

Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his uniform cuffs with impeccable precision and cleared the surface of his desk.

“Stop, Syed,”

Ben’s voice was frigid and it made the rocker’s eyes widen. The Kylo and the Knights crew were catching up at a bar in Pinedale, Wyoming. Kylo was there of course, along with the six other musicians.

Their guitarist, who went by Syed Ren, was grinding against Kylo’s shoulder while she traced his neck with a trail of tender kisses—which he had just rejected.

Syed was a woman of intriguing beauty, her flawless bronze complexion glowing softly under the red and blue neon lights. Her curls rose over her temples in a crowning mohawk, revealing her pierced ears and the elegant curve of her neck.

“What?” she demanded. “Are you done sulking? What’s up with you these days?”

Ben shrugged, fiddling with his phone. It hadn’t left his side in days, and she had noticed. She took it from his hands.

“You’re glued to this thing twenty four hours a day. Are you expecting a call or what?”

His eyes darkened and he held out his hand for Syed to give back the iPhone, but she kept scrolling through the contents while ignoring his glare.

She stopped at a random photo, her gaze turning ice cold. It was the picture of a young woman, definitely taken without her realizing because it was blurry and misaligned. Where had she seen her before? That freckle-faced brunette with the messy topknot and the large knapsack. Her face was oddly familiar.

It slid out of reach as Ben snatched it from her and locked it before slipping it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned, and she could tell he wasn’t kidding. “Our little cover story shouldn’t make you forget why we’re here. If you can’t manage, I’ll find someone else to get the job done.”

“Okay, I get it, my bad,” she grumbled.

But she proved incapable of keeping all the venom out of her voice. “But you didn’t mention anything yesterday while you were enjoying yourself in my bed. Or any of the other times, for that matter,” she hissed.

Ben’s gaze hardened. “I thought we agreed that there were no strings attached here. No feelings between us and definitely no jealousy. Instead, I need you to be professional for once. This is the first and last time I’ll tolerate what you just pulled.”

“Go fuck yourself, Kylo fucking Ren,” Syed spat, knowing still that the conversation was over. Before he was her lover, he was her boss. And he demanded absolute discretion and loyalty. He wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of her for the smallest mistake.

She raised her bottle to her lips and turned to Saul Ren. But her conversation with the drummer took a rather debauched turn.

“If you’re feeling lonely tonight Syed, I’m happy to provide my services,” he offered.

“Shut up!”

Strangely enough, this cynical exchange greatly de-escalated the situation and Syed remained silent afterwards. She approached the circle of fellow rockstars to find them playing a casual game of pool. The ladies, Kelsi, Shakti, and Tyra, were far ahead of the gents, Skylar and Saul. The score would have been more even if Kylo had decided to play. The man was talented with a cue in his hands. Looking around, Syed noticed that he was far off, leaving the bar with his phone in hand.

Leaning against the wall, he lit a cigarette.

Syed was right. He was waiting for a call.

But just what was he hoping would happen? He wasn’t even sure she had found his number where he had stashed it. And even if she had found it, she surely would have thrown it away, cursing the arrogant and meddlesome Ben Solo. And she would be right. He went too far when he called her ex, that Finn guy.

Ever since she was at the mercy of the wheels of his car, he had stopped thinking rationally. The minute he had looked at her, something had collapsed.

Destabilized by her red-rimmed golden eyes (had she been crying too often?) and by her English accent which had taken him by surprise, he had lost his faculties and purposely scared her off. That would put some safe distance between them. But what was he safe from? Her smile? Her tears?

When their eyes had met from across the room at Howl at the Moon, his heart had skipped a beat. He’d tried to keep a neutral expression, but it had been so obvious that even Syed has belatedly realized that something was up with him. A twitch here, a shaky exhale there—she had felt it and she had instantly hated the intruder who had come between her and Kylo.

Ben had wanted to stay on top of the situation, but he had found himself discarding Syed and walking directly towards Rey in a single motion. It was magnetic.

She was slightly drunk and their conversation was marked by a caustic sort of tension by the time he lost control. She had left and he had chased after her, as though trying to break through the surface of something after being plunged deep inside for so long.  

When she knocked herself senseless against that streetlight, all he had to do was drop her off at some motel. Or just call an ambulance and trust the authorities to take care of the rest. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him and the excuse was too good to pass up. So he dialed Jessica from his own contact history and asked his way into Rey’s life. Now he knows who she was and why she was here.

He hailed a cab to the Four Seasons and booked her a room. But a voice inside his head warned him that the situation was getting out of hand.

She wasn’t just some well-meaning tourist looking for kicks. She was definitely someone else. She had immediately contacted Rose Tico, someone he had already been following. The next day she had ended up at Leia’s and then she had taken off with BB8 and the Millenium Falcon.

Ben had reported his findings to Snoke, and he knew that Phasma was on the trail. His task was done. But he remained on the look out, ready to strike at the president’s word.

It was all too perfect to be a coincidence. She probably threw herself at his car on purpose. She was a rebel spy for Earth Soldiers and had made the whole “damsel in distress” persona up. And it had worked perfectly—hook, line, and sinker.

That was real mistake on his part, a weakness.

Rey was a weakness he could no longer permit. She was a trap and he had fallen for her.

His phone rang, snapping him back to reality.

[hopewritcs]

come in with the rain.

pairing: jonathan byers x reader

word count: 3.1k

request from @heartchanhee: “Hii, could you do 12 (from the fluff prompt list) and 4 (from the angst prompt list) with Jonathan Byers? (Happy ending)” ( ““how did you get in here?” / “it doesn’t matter anymore.” )

summary: y/n and jonathan used to be best friends in middle school.  they were both “art kids” that no one else wanted to spend time with.  they were best friends until the disappearance of jonathan’s brother will.  now, will’s home safe and sound, and the only time y/n sees jonathan is in the halls with nancy wheeler.

notes: hey hi hello ! i hope you like this fic. it’s kind of ambiguously set sometime around the end of season two / before the beginning of season three ? for the first like ... half or so ? of the fic is very lacking in dialogue, and is more action heavy to get the plot of the fic going.  

stranger things tag list: @thekidsofneibolt, @madhatterweasley, @shaykeijser, @rainy-bookish-days (if you wanna be added to any tag list, let me know!!)

She was angry and hurt.  Every time she’s seen Jonathan now he’s been whispering with Nancy, it’s like she doesn’t even exist anymore to him.  Jonathan used to be her best friend.  He was the person she counted on for everything, because school ( and Hawkins in general ) was a rough place.  They got through it together.  But somehow, over the past year and a half or so, Nancy Wheeler had gotten involved in Jonathan’s life, which left Y/N on the sidelines on her own.  

At first, Y/N didn’t mind.  It was around the time Will had gone missing and Jonathan was preoccupied dealing with his mother, the reappearance of his father ( albeit briefly ), and trying to figure out what happened to his younger brother.  Y/N had offered to help, and Jonathan had taken her up on it.  She’d been putting up flyers around the hallway for days after Will disappeared, but then something happened and Jonathan stopped returning her calls.  

She heard second hand from Rebecca Erikson that Jonathan and Nancy had been spotted driving off from the sheriff’s department together.  

And that didn’t sting.  Jonathan was allowed to have friends that weren’t her.  She knew that.  Maybe her problem was that Jonathan seemed to easily slip into life with Nancy Wheeler at his side while Y/N was struggling to keep up.  They didn’t not include her originally.  After a weird period, when Will was found, Nancy had fit nicely into their little duo.  

Then Tina’s Halloween party happened and Y/N watched as Jonathan helped Nancy home, an aching feeling in her chest as she watched him usher her out the front door and towards his mother’s car.  Not only had she been left without a ride, but she felt left in general too.  

The tugging at her heart only got worse when it was days later at school with both Jonathan and Nancy missing.  Someone had started a rumor that they’d left town to be together, which was only fueled by the fact that Steve Harrington--the dethroned King of Hawkins High--looked like utter shit the first couple of days.  His hair was missing its usual poof, his eyes looked puffy when he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses ( which was only during class, because Mr. Wilson had yelled at him to take them off ), and he was avoiding all of his old friends.  

During that time, Y/N had approached Steve when he was sitting alone on the bleachers outside, in the beginnings of winter.  She didn’t say anything at first, but offered him some of the snacks her mother had packed in her lunch and they sat in silence.  Both mourning the loss of their relationships.  His with Nancy and hers with Jonathan.  

Maybe it was a couple of weeks later, when Jonathan and Nancy were back in school and both were seemingly talking to Steve too, when Y/N felt alone.  She still went back to the bleachers and curled up with her sweater under her legs, snacking.  Steve found Y/N outside eating lunch alone and joined her silently, like she had that first day.  Maybe that was when she realized that she wasn’t hurt because her friend had left her.  

She was hurt because the guy she liked had left her for another girl.  

A more popular girl.  

Some might say a prettier girl.  

The emotion, the realization of it all, hit Y/N hard, because she didn’t really think about it like that.  Not until it was staring her in the face as she was wondering about what happened.  Why had Jonathan stayed by Nancy’s side and not even looked her way?  Why were they constantly together, whispering in the hallway?  All the scenarios fluttered through her mind and Y/N realized that she liked Jonathan.  Really, really, liked Jonathan Byers.  

It felt cliché, sitting on the bleachers in the warmer ( but not yet warm ) Spring weather, getting hit in the heart about her feelings for her best friend in the world.  Felt like she was in a movie, but no.  This was Y/N’s real life.  

Steve still joined her for lunch every day.  Neither of them said much, but they often shared whatever they were eating as they worked on school work or anything to clear their minds.  They didn’t ask what was on their minds, ever.  It was an unspoken agreement that their conversations ( when they spoke ) stuck to what their preferred snacks were, what the latest gossip was, or if they could get a second opinion or help on some assignment.  Y/N was grateful for that friendship with Steve, it was a superficial friendship at most, but it was still someone in her corner.  Someone who was there for her.  

As the school year was winding down to a close, Y/N and Steve spoke more frequently at lunch.  Both were set with summer jobs at the opening soon Starcourt Mall--Steve at the ice cream parlor Scoops Ahoy! and Y/N at the Claire’s as a salesgirl.  It was in one of their conversations about summer plans that Steve mentioned Nancy and Jonathan had gotten internships at the newspaper, the Hawkins Post.  

Her heart sunk.  She hadn’t really thought about Jonathan much with finals coming up, but even the slightest mention of him sent a whole shiver down her body--an ache she could only say was heartbreak.  

After school, instead of meeting for a study group at the library like she had planned, Y/N left and went on a walk.  She didn’t much know where she was going, or where she would wind up--but she knew she needed to clear her head and get rid of all these thoughts of Jonathan.  

Y/N hadn’t really thought about her direction, but once the rain had started she knew she needed to get to some shelter.  Rainy season wasn’t always forgiving, so she worried if a true storm was coming.  The problem was, she wasn’t anywhere near her own home.  At some point, Y/N had wandered into the wooded area of Hawkins, heading in no particular direction.  On the bright side, she caught glimpse of something familiar and headed in that direction.  

Suddenly, she didn’t care if she saw Jonathan Byers or if they were even still friends, she just wanted to get out of the rain.  Her hair was sticking to her cheeks and her clothes were soaked through, awkwardly draped against her body as she maneuvered through the woods to the backside of the Byers house.  Thankfully, she knew exactly which window was Jonathans.  And she also knew that it was rickety and old, and with enough leverage it would easily give and allow her the shelter she needed.  

So, she shimmied the window open and pulled herself inside where she rather ungracefully dropped to the floor.  The loud echo of water and a thud in her wake.  

“What was that?” she heard a concerned voice from another room.  

“Sounds like it came from Jonathan’s room.” 

“Jonathan, go check your room.  Make sure it’s not one of those things coming back.”  

“All those things are gone.  Don’t be weird about it.” 

“Shut up Dustin, I’m just saying.” 

“Can we just focus on this game?” 

The sounding voices got quieter as the door opened to Jonathan’s room.  All the kids, who had gathered there for a DnD night turned slumber party when the rain had started to get worse, quieted down and attempted to peer over the hallway to see what had fallen inside Jonathan’s room.  

Jonathan, as certain as he was that it wasn’t a demodog in his bedroom, wasn’t certain that it wasn’t an intruder who could hurt them.  So, when he opened his door, he reached in first to flick on the light switch before looking into the room.  “Y/N?  How did you get in here?” 

Y/N sat up slowly, pushing the rain-soaked strands of hair out of her face and gave Jonathan a smile.  “I was just walking around when the rain started, and your house was the closest.”  

“What do you mean it was the closest?  We’re miles from your house.”  Jonathan said, his eyes wide as he studied her for a moment before jumping into action and rummaging through his dresser drawers for something she could change into.  Shaking his head he replied, “Doesn’t matter.  Here, change first, you’re shaking.”  

Was she shaking?  She looked down at her hands and noticed that, yes, she was indeed shaking.  Y/N stood up and took the sweats he was offering her with a small smile before moving past him and heading toward the familiar bathroom across the hallway.  As she was changing she could hear whoever was in the living room continue their conversation.  

“Was that Y/N?  I haven’t seen her in forever.  Hey Y/N!” 

“Will, she’s in the bathroom, she’s not going to respond to you.” 

“Who is she?” 

“She’s Jonathan’s oldest friend. Mom always said they were gonna--” 

“Does she...know?” 

“No!  She hasn’t been over in months.” 

Y/N was wringing out the scrunchie she’d kept on her wrist earlier that day in the sink when there was a knock on the door, followed by Jonathan’s voice, “You can just leave your clothes in the bathroom, hang them up on the tub to dry for now.”  

“Thanks.”  She replied, pulling her wet hair out of her face and into a loose bun.  The sweatshirt and pants he’d given her were already doing their job to warm her up, and she swiftly hung up her soaked clothes before leaving the bathroom again.  

Y/N walked right into the living room to see a group of Will’s friends sitting on the couch and floor around a game set up.  She sat on the arm of the couch and nudged Will’s arm with a smile, “Hey kid, been a while.”

“Hey Y/N!”  his face brightened up as he turned to her.  “Why are you here?”  

“I went for a walk after school and got lost.  Wound up stuck in the rain and the closest place was your house.  Do you think your mom will mind if I crash here?”  Y/N knew she probably should have directed that question to Jonathan, but the stinging in her heart wouldn’t allow her to focus on him.  Plus, she’d always seen Will as a younger brother and she hated that her lack of friendship with Jonathan had meant a lack of seeing the kid she grew up with as a surrogate sibling.  

“Probably not, she should be home soon.  Got stuck at work when the power went out with the storm.  Everyone else is staying the night.”  Will shrugged, looking back at his friends.  “Everyone this is Y/N, Y/N these are my friends.”  

“Nice to meet you guys.”  she turned her attention to the group with a small wave of introduction.  

“Y/N, can I talk to you?”  Jonathan had been watching the scene between his brother and Y/N and he was hurting.  He’d pushed her away because he didn’t want to involve her in the supernatural, other dimensional bullshit they’d been dealing with.  But that had meant pushing away someone that had become a fixture in his family’s life, someone who he loved--who they all loved.  And now he didn’t know what it was supposed to be like, how could he invite her back into his life when he felt like he’d done something wrong?  But he did want her back in his life.  

She nodded, stood up, and ruffled Will’s hair as she walked back towards where Jonathan stood over in the kitchen.  “What’s up?” Y/N asked, awkwardly tugging at the sleeves of the sweatshirt she wore, looking at Jonathan and wondering what he could want to say to her.  

“Why are you here?  Is everything alright?”  His eyes shone with worry as he looked at her.

Y/N looked up surprised, “What?  No, everything’s fine!  Like I said, I got lost on a walk.”  She walked too far, too lost in her own thoughts.  But that wasn’t something to say.  It would only make him more worried.  “Why?  Is it...not okay that I’m here?”  What Y/N was thinking about in that moment was Nancy.  She’d heard rumors that they were more than friends, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask that question.  It would hurt too much if the truth was what she expected it to be.  

Jonathan’s eyes widened and he shook his head, putting a hand on her arm.  “N-No, of course not.  You’re always welcome here.  Y-You’re my best friend.”  

She rolled her eyes at the you’re my best friend bit.  How could that be true, they haven’t spoken in months.  “Best friend?  Are you serious?”  Hurt peppered her voice.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore?” 

Y/N sighed, biting down on her lower lip as she turned her head back toward the living room.  Noticing that the entire action of the kids had stopped, all eyes on the pair of older teens fighting in the doorway to the kitchen, she sighed again.  Y/N took a hold of Jonathan’s arm and dragged him back toward his room, closing the door behind them.  

“It just.  It doesn’t matter anymore.  You’re not my best friend, Jonathan.  If you were you wouldn’t have dumped me just because you got a girlfriend or whatever it is that Nancy is to you.”  Y/N was doing her best to keep her voice down.  She was certain that one of the kids out there was Nancy’s kid brother, who she knew to be one of Will’s friends.  So she didn’t want them to overhear the argument they were having.  

“Nancy’s not my--she’s not my girlfriend.”  Jonathan explained, scoffing and shaking his head.  Then, after a moment he added, “And I didn’t dump you.”  Even if it didn’t sound like he was exactly too sure of that himself.  

“Yes you did! Of course you did.  You pushed me away.  You haven’t said anything to me in months Jonathan.  How else am I supposed to take that?”  Y/N crossed her arms, taking a step back and moving toward the window.  A quick escape, if things needed to happen that way.  

“I was protecting you!”  Jonathan shouted loudly, surprising Y/N.  She rarely saw Jonathan angered to this point.  

“Protecting me?  Protecting me?  From what? That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it Byers.  What could you possible be protecting me from?” 

“From everything.  Oh, you have no fucking idea what we’ve been dealing with, Y/N.”  

“Then tell me!  I don’t understand what you aren’t telling me!  I mean,  I love you Jonathan, so why are you pushing me away?!”  

The room got quiet after she said that.  The only sounds in the whole house was the echoing of the storm outside, rain pattering hard against the roof and windows.  Even the kids in the other room were silent, but quickly picked up stuff and started talking to fill the tension even they were feeling from out there.  

It felt like the hours were ticking by, even if it were only minutes.  Y/N cleared her throat, stepping forward and looking at Jonathan.  “Could you say something, please?”  Her voice was softer, looking at him worried about his reaction.  

He was breathing deeply, reeling in his emotions.  Jonathan hated shouting at people, it reminded him too much of his father.  He was a quiet guy, a soft spoken guy.  But he loved her.  He’d done so much to keep her from all of this.  To protect her.  He hadn’t realized that what he’d done to keep her safe had hurt her.  Had hurt them.  

“I’m sorry.”  Jonathan said, sinking onto his bed and resting his head in his hands as he took in another deep breath.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was only protecting you, I couldn’t see you die or something.”  

“Die?”  Y/N repeated, questioningly as she took a couple of steps forward to sit on the corner of the bed by Jonathan.  Tentatively, she reached out and put one of her hands on his shoulder and the other reached out for his hand.  “Jonathan, what are you talking about?  What do you mean die?  I’m fine.  Nothing’s going to happen to me.”  

“But it could have.  That thing could have killed all of us, and when it came back again.  When those monsters came back all I could see was you dying and I needed to protect you.”  Jonathan spoke so rushed, turning to face Y/N.  Tears were clinging to the corner of his eyes as he shifted in his seat, taking her hands in his and holding on.  “I’m so sorry, Y/N.  I love you too.  I love you, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay and away from all of this.”  

Between the thing could have killed us all, the monsters, and the I love you, Y/N wasn’t sure what to focus on more.  Instead, she stared down at their interlocked hands and focused on that.  She grounded herself in the moment.  

“Could you maybe say something back?”  Jonathan said quietly, breaking through her focus and pulling her attention back on him.  Him repeating her words back made her chuckle softly, shaking her head.  

“I’m not sure if I should focus on the fact that you love me too, or the whole monsters thing?”  She still wasn’t sure what he meant.  Monsters weren’t real, right?  So, what could Jonathan have meant by monsters.  

“We can focus on the monsters later.”  Jonathan explained, letting out a huff of air as he shook his head.  Of course, he was going to have to tell her everything.  Y/N deserved to know, that’s what he’d been wrestling with since everything happened.  Since he realized that he loved her and wanted to be in her life more than he wanted to keep her at a distance to protect her.  

“I love you.”  Y/N said softly, a smile spreading on her face.  “I’ve hated not having you in my life.  I thought I lost you, Jonathan.”  

“I don’t know what to say.  I can explain everything.”  Jonathan said, standing up from the bed and tugging at her to pull her toward the door.  “I’m gonna tell you about everything.”  

“Can we just...maybe focus on the monsters tomorrow?”  

Jonathan turned around and looked at Y/N, confusion spread on his face.  

“I just, don’t want to ruin the moment.  Can we just stay here?  Just let it be us?”  Y/N asked softly, tugging Jonathan back toward her and away from the door.  “For now.”  she added.  

“For now, sure.”  Jonathan nodded his head, following her back to his bed.  

They laid down, curled up together and quietly talking into the night.  The sounds of the kids playing in the other room, and the rain, the soundtrack to the evening.  

[theladyofdeath]

10 Things I Hate About You {1}

An ACOTAR fanfiction. 

Nessian. Feysand. Elriel. Elucien.

Story inspired by the 1999 classic, 10 Things I Hate About You, and a prompt from anon.

Summary: Cassian gets dared to convince the university’s notorious bitch to attend the Greek winter formal with him. Elain is conflicted between her lifelong crush or the boy with the hazel eyes who makes her feel like more than just a pretty face. Feyre finds herself captivated by her school’s new janitor, but little does she knew that he’s not employed there by choice.

Warning: Rated M for mature.

Author’s Note: WELCOME. Get ready for a hell of a ride. I love to know your thoughts! + comment or send an ask if you want to be tagged.

Nesta loved music.

There was something soothing about a song that could completely enthrall an average person within the first few notes. Nesta would close her eyes, lie on her bed, and listen for hours.

In her studio apartment, she had built floating shelves along one wall, that ranged from the floor to the ceiling. Vinyl records and cds were organized in alphabetical order, by genre.

No one else was allowed to touch them.

Not that she had that many visitors.

But, it was why she had left her last roommate and begun to live alone.

An old, beat up piano and an acoustic guitar sat in the corner, between what served as her kitchen and her bedroom.

There were many days when Nesta wouldn’t even step out of her apartment, or days when the only time she would leave would be to go to the old record store on the corner.

At least, that’s how it was during the Summer months.

Now, it was September and the first day of her senior year at VU had approached. One more year. All she had to do was get through one more year, and she never had to step foot in an educational facility ever again.

It was about damn time.

Nesta had always hated school. Unfortunately, many believed it was necessary for future success.

Nothing like getting into debt that is forever impossible to pay off, just so you can one day make enough to, hopefully, survive.

It was a fucked up system, but Nesta endured it, nonetheless.

One day, she was going to open up her own music store. She was going to be a business owner - a successful one, unlike her father.

Her father stupidly ran his own business into the ground and was so devastated that he neglected to take care of his three children.

She would never be like her old man.

Nesta dropped her towel in front of her mirror and looked at her body. She was much too thin for her liking. She practically had the ass of a twelve-year-old boy. Tilting her head, she took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her lips.

Maybe she should start eating more.

Too bad food was so damn expensive and she had just spent five hundred dollars on books for the semester.

Fucked. Up. System.

Nesta pulled on a pair of jeans and decided on a long-sleeved black tee. She hated how college boys neglected to hide their wandering eyes, so Nesta dressed to avoid such altercations at all costs.

After grabbing her book bag off her couch, she was walking through the warm Velaris streets, her hair still damp from her shower.

She glanced at her phone screen. She had ten minutes to make it to her 9 a.m. class.

After a short curse, she picked up her pace.

She had lived on campus for the first two years but wasn’t a fan of it. Campus life typically revolved around idiot boys pretending to be men and girls who snuck out after hours. Her roommate, the one who touched her records, had a squeaky bed with heavy movement.

It squeaked often.

Although it was more expensive, Nesta decided to live alone just outside of campus. Her apartment was convenient - next to campus, next to the diner in which she worked, and walking distance to the music store. Although she had a car, she rarely used it.

But as her legs began to grow tired, she wondered why.

Her 9 a.m. class was on the far end of campus, so she hurried through a series of courtyards before finally reaching the old, looming brick building.

She pulled out her phone and pulled up her schedule as she entered. British Literature 1. Room 303.

There was a line at the elevator, so she took to the staircase.

She had two minutes to get to the third floor.

And she would have made it if it weren’t for him.

“Hey,” he said, stepping in front of her when she made it to the third floor. “Greek night is tonight. Come?”

Nesta tried to step past him but he followed her lead, handing her a flyer.

“Move,” she snapped.

He grinned, and she met his eyes for the first time. Hazel, bright. His shoulder length hair was a deep, dark brown.

His smile was beautifully dangerous, beautifully horrid.

“I’m going to be late, asshole,” she scowled. “Move.”

He folded up a flyer and stuck it in the side pocket of her backpack. “Fine. See you later.”

“No, you won’t,” she mumbled, knocking into his shoulder as she hurried past him.

She could hear his laughter follow her until she walked into room 303.

~~~~

Rhysand entered Amarantha’s office, already wanting to puke.

She was sitting behind her desk, her red-gold hair in a tight braid. Her eyes met his and she grinned.

“Ah, Rhysand,” she crooned. “You’re late for your first day on the job.”

Rhys shut the door but stayed near it as he replied, “Considering school has been in session for an hour, I assumed it would be okay.”

She raised a brow. “I’ll allow it, just this once.”

He gave her a curt nod.

“Here are your keys,” she said, tossing a ring across the room, which he easily caught. “There is a closet by the gym with all of your supplies. I expect you here from eight to five every day, Monday through Friday. Any step out of line, Rhysand, and you will be sorry. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” he replied, through gritted teeth.

She smiled, charmingly. “So uptight. I like you better relaxed.”

“Is small talk a part of my job description?” he asked, irritated.

“No,” she said, smile unwavering. “You may leave.”

“Fine,” he said, opening her door.

“And Rhysand?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn.

“Say goodbye before you leave this afternoon,” she said.

Rhysand shut the door quietly behind him.

He attempted to reel in his emotions as he strode through the silent hallways. Three years ago, he had been a senior at North Velaris High. Three years ago, he thought he’d be nearing the end of his college career at twenty-one. But, now, he was a janitor.

It’s not that he had anything against janitors.

He actually respected them greatly. They had to clean up some pretty horrible shit, after some pretty disrespectful teenagers.

But, he had never imagined himself as one.

Until now, he was going to VU for psychology. He had worked his ass off year round, even taking Summer classes.

But then, Summer came, once more, and Amarantha…

Knew.

She knew, and she held it over him. She hadn’t been his principle, she was only a few years older than he was. Rumor was, her father got her the job. It was her first year, and she had taken Rhysand with her.

She was keeping him close, keeping him near so she could watch his every move.

And he wouldn’t have done it unless he had to, wouldn’t have taken the job and abandoned everything else if he didn’t believe her threats.

He was caught up in a dangerous game.

A game he hadn’t even wanted to play in the first place.

Rhysand found his way to the janitor’s closet by the gym. After attempting half the keys on his key ring, he finally managed to get it open.

It was filled with supplies, ancient supplies, all that had been used by his father. He stepped inside and flipped on the light switch, brushing his fingertips along the broomsticks and the rags that lined the shelves.

There was a schedule posted on the wall in familiar handwriting.

Handwriting that Rhysand had grown up seeing.

Handwriting that belonged to a man he’d never see again.

Without giving it too much thought, he slipped the coveralls over his sweatpants and teeshirt before tending to his duties.

~~~~

The day passed quickly for Elain Archeron.

She was so busy prepping for Greek night that she’d barely made it to her afternoon class, and when it was over, she ran to Greek Row and into the house of Alpha Delta Pi, greeting her sisters before grabbing a clipboard and beginning her checklist.

It was nearly half an hour after four when two familiar faces showed up on the lawn.

Elain grinned, running to the curb. “So? I just hung the banner. What do you think?”

Feyre nodded in approval as Nesta glared at girls in passing.

“It’s beautiful, Elain,” Feyre smiled. “You did a great job. Sorry we couldn’t make it here earlier, tryouts went longer than I thought.”

Elain had almost forgotten that Feyre was trying out for the varsity soccer team. In her will to get everything set up, it had slipped her mind.

“How’d it go?”

“Good,” Feyre beamed. “They’re posting spots tomorrow. They also let me into two art classes this semester, since I finished all my math credits last year. And we got a hot, new janitor. So, overall, not a bad first day.”

Elain huffed a laugh. “That’s great, Feyre. Only one more year until you’re here with me.”

Nesta hadn’t said a word.

She hated the Greeks and everything they stood for, hated that Elain had spent three years in ADPi, even if their mom had been a part of the same sorority during her time at VU.

“I’m going to go see if anyone needs help,” Feyre smiled, hurrying across the yard.

“She’s brainwashed,” Nesta mumbled.

“Don’t be so hard on her,” Elain scolded. “Just because this isn’t your thing doesn’t mean it can’t be hers.”

“She only wants to join because of you and mom,” Nesta said, crossing her arms. “I mean, look at all of this. You’re all working your asses off to have a bunch of wannabe's ask you a million questions in five minutes, then leave.”

“If you don’t want to be here, why’d you come?” Elain asked, refusing to get angry, but growing frustrated.

“Feyre wanted to come,” she shrugged. “I’m not letting her walk around a college campus alone.”

“She wouldn’t be alone. She’d be with me.”

“You’re busy,” Nesta said. “Aren’t you going out with Vanserra tonight?”

Nesta couldn’t help the way she was. Or, maybe she could and just didn’t want to.

The way she said Vanserra made his name sound like filth.

“Yes, and I’m very excited about it, so it’d be nice if you were excited for me, too.”

“Excited about what?” Nesta scoffed. “Going out with a guy who only wants to take you to dinner so he can leave before breakfast?”

Elain’s brows furrowed. “He’s not like that. He’s not like the rest of them.”

“They’re all like that,” Nesta snapped, before pulling out her phone and sitting on the curb.

Elain sighed, catching the glimpse of a visitor.

He was wearing his typical, black jeans, which had rips in the knees. His boots were old, dingy, falling apart. He wore a plain black tee with a plaid button-down tossed over his shoulder.

Nesta looked up from her screen, fury igniting. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I see you came,” he winked. “It was because of my flyer, wasn’t it?”

Nesta chuckled. “You’re in a fraternity? Seriously?”

He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he looked up. “Hey, Elain. Lovely to see you, as always.”

Elain smiled, even though she felt the need to roll her eyes. “Hi, Cassian. All set up for the night?”

“Nothing fancy,” he shrugged. “Although, there is a party afterward. You should come.”

“I have plans,” she said, politely declining.

Cassian smiled down at Nesta. “How about you?”

“I’d rather bathe in gasoline and jump into a fire,” Nesta spat.

He chuckled and walked away, hands in his pockets.

“He doesn’t look like he’d be a frat boy,” Nesta said after he left.

“Kappa Sigma,” Elain said. “Party frat. We don’t take them too seriously.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, probably wondering why someone would take any fraternity or sorority seriously.

“You know, you probably would have liked it if you finished rush week freshman year,” Elain noted, before crossing her arms and walking toward the house. “At least I made it.”

~~~~

Nesta sat on the curb for a long while, watching as hopeful freshman went from house to house on Greek row.

She had been in their shoes once. Four years ago, she had walked the same walk on Greek row, excited to follow in her late mother’s footsteps.

She hadn’t made it through Rush, though.

She had left.

Had secluded herself.

Had begun to push everything and everyone away.

That week had changed her.

Feyre plopped down next to her on the grass just as the sun began to set. “I think I’m going to stay for a little while. I can get a ride home from one of the girls. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“It’s a school night.”

“Have I ever proven that I’m not responsible?”

Nesta glared at her youngest sister.

Feyre glared back.

She wasn’t wrong. Feyre was probably the most reliable out of all of them.

“Fine,” Nesta said, standing to her feet and brushing off her jeans. “Make good choices.”

Feyre lifted a brow. “Fine. You too.”

Nesta walked back to her apartment, alone, as the Velaris starlight made its appearance.

~~~~

Chapter two coming soon.

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @photofeesh @mariamuses @queen-archeron @agel-yan  @julesherondalex @rhysismydaddy @poisonous00 @katshrev         @girl-who-reads-the-books @a-trifling-matter @kickassunicorn  @illyrian-highfae @light-in-the-shadows72 @abimomeopectore @cjcraiggchiefofstaff        @empress-ofbloodshed  @outofstyles13  @overgrown-bat @thebitchupstairs @breccia-domain    @ladyblackstairs  @nish247  @my-fan-side  @panda3506 @awesomethreedragons  @hawkingeloise @feysand-dot-acotar  @darknessinthediamond @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @illyrianbae99      @i-look-like-a-mess  @my-parabatai-is-a-herondale @justacatastrophe @sofyyyd  @sannelovesreading  @kylizzles @kiss-my-maas @inrealliampain     @alien-from-pluto-writer @corpdemarvel @lorcanswife @aelinsaesthetic @illyriangarbage 

[addictofsupernatural]

You Can Tell Me Anything

Jughead Jones x reader

Author Note: This is taken place during season one when everything was simpler.

(I don't remember these episodes perfectly so I'm sorry if I miss some things)

Summary: Jughead is trying hard to make sure you don't know that he's homeless, but sooner or later you find out.

Word Count: 1888

Jughead was beyond mad. They were going to close down the drive in, his job. His home. Of course nobody else could know that, especially not you.

Jughead's had a crush on you for a while. You were just always so happy and ready to help. You helped Jughead with the blue and gold, as well as solving mysteries that you guys got yourselves into. You were the only one who understood his references.

The last thing he wanted to feel like was The Help. He didn't want you to see him as a loser or helpless. Not that you would, but Jughead couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

Jughead angrily climbed over you in the booth. All of you stared at him. "They're going to shut down the drive-in."

"What?" You said, the only one who seemed to care. Betty had switched sides the squish in with Veronica and Kevin. The three of them knew of your crush on Jughead Jones, and were reading to help anyway they could.

"Closing down the Twighlight Drive-In is just one more nail in the coffin that is Riverdale, no, the American dream. As the great Quentin Tarantino used to say-"

"Please, no more Quentin Tarantino references." Kevin said.

"What? I'm pissed. And not just because I'm losing my job, but because the drive in should mean something to Riverdale. People should be trying to save it!"

You slide over your plate to Jughead, and he starts eating your fries. "Well, in the new age of Netflix, who would go to drive-ins anymore?"

"People who want to buy crack." Kevin bluntly says.

"Kev." You say, nodding to Jughead.

"And cinematics and car enthusiasts!" Jughead argues. "Am I right y/n/n?"

"Yup." Nodding your head.

"Also, you guys should come to closing night." He says sadly. "I was thinking American Graffiti, or is that too obvious?"

"Oh, I would love anything starring Audrey Hepburn." Veronica said, with Kevin nodding in agreement.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Kevin asks.

"Mm, maybe Rebel Without a Cause?" Jughead smiles at you.

"I'll be right back." Betty says, getting up when seeing Archie, his dad, and the music teacher.

"Betty wait!" You said, knowing that it was about the weird relationship of the two. You and Jughead shared a look. He knew too.

Betty said something, and her and Archie went outside. Jughead slouched as he stared out the window to watch, and you leaned on him, putting your hand on his chest to watch as well. Veronica then went out to see what was going on.

"What was it like before she came here?" Kevin asked. "I honestly can't remember."

"Huh." You say. Kevin nodded his head.

You and Jughead were passing out flyers for the closing night at the drive-in. "Why didn't you guys give me a heads up?" Archie asked.

"I am, by nature, an objector." Not saying anything to neither you nor Betty was the most moral decision I could make."

"And you?"

"I try not to associate myself with stuff like this." You explain. "Don't get me wrong, I'm nosey and I like to know things about other people, but I physically stay out of drama."

Jughead smiled at that. "And that's what keeps the blue and gold running." You smiled back.

"Could you guys just please let me know if Betty does anything crazy?"

After school you both went to the mayor's office. "I'm sorry, but the Twighlight Drive-In has become a hangout for gang members and transients. The deal is done. Andrews Construction is scheduled to destroy it on Monday."

Jughead was beginning to panic. It was happening too fast, and he didn't know where he was going to go if the drive-in really would be gone. "Mayor McCoy, when I was a kid my family and I would always go. We couldn't afford tickets for everyone, so Jellybean and I would hide in the trunk, then come out when the car was parked. It's like my home."

Jughead felt hot under your gaze. He shifted in his seat, wanting nothing more than for you to have not have heard that. "That's a sweet sentiment, Mr. Jones, but the future of Riverdale is at stake here."

"And isn't Riverdale the town of warm, fuzzy memories?" You spoke up. "I mean, might as well get rid of Pop's for the 50's theme. Riverdale thrives on the fact that it's a place where people build times to remember with their families."

"Look, I'd love to help you both, but the deal is done. You should find out who they are to get some answers."

"Thank you for your time." You said.

Next was Andrews Construction site. "Mayor McCoy says that you have a contract to tear down the drive-in." Jughead said quietly. There was something about Archie's father that made anyone, especially Jughead, calm down. Fred Andrews was a respected man.

"I do. Look, I'm sorry guys. I love the drive-in too."

"Mr. Andrews," you said. "Just give us one week to track the man who bought the land."

"And convince them not to demolish this holy house of cinema." Jughead said angrily.

"Jug, y/n/n, this is a big contract for me and my guys."

Jughead was staring intensely at Fred, before softening his features. He didn't move. "Y/n could you wait outside?" He asked quietly.

You looked at Jughead, confused, then at Fred. He nodded his head for you to go. "Okay." You responded.

"You put one Jones out of work, and now another, huh?"

He sighed. "Jug, your dad was stealing equipment. I had to let him go."

Jughead scoffs. "Right. You're just doing what you had to, just like now. Later." He averted eye contact. Although he was mad, he knew it wasn't Fred's fault.

He found you sitting on the steps waiting for him. "You okay?"

He kept on walking. "He's not gonna do it."

You caught up to him and grabbed his hand, bringing him to a halt. "That's not what I asked." You quietly said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's whatever. I gotta go get everything ready for closing night. See you tomorrow." And with that he walked off.

You then went from gift store to gift store, trying to find Jughead something that he'd like. You wanted to make him feel better. You knew that his sadness wouldn't completely go away from the Twilight Drive-In, but it could probably lessen. And that was your goal.

You went to the back of the drive-in, where Rebel Without a Cause was playing from. You knocked on the door. Jughead poked his head out of the door. "Y/n, what're you doing here?"

You smiled. "I came to see if we could watch the movie back here together."

"I would, but there's a lot of tapes and equipment to organize. Sorry." Jughead hated the words coming out of his mouth. Of course he wanted to watch the movie with you. Of course he wanted to be with you alone, especially right now. He wanted you to make him feel better. But he couldn't have you see the bed.

Your smile faded. "Oh. Okay. Well, could you come out here for a second then? I want to give you something."

He went outside and closed the door. He gave you a teasing smile. "Is it the deed to this place?"

You laughed. "I wish. It's, uh," you raised your hand, showing a Bates Motel key chain with the circular chain around your index finger. "Tada."

He stared at it. He didn't know how to react. You knew him so well. "What? You don't like it? I'm sorry, I was just trying to make you feel better and-"

"What? No! Uh, no, it's not that." He put on a tiny smile. "It's just, thank you. It means a lot."

You went up to him and hugged him, loving the warmth resonating off of him. He was shocked for a second, before coming back to his senses and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Course Jug. You're my best friend." You pulled away and out your hands on each cheek. "Alright. C'mon, where's that smile I love so much?" He looked away and did his dorky smile that made your cheeks heat up. "There it is." You then slipped out of his hold. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." And with that you left.

Jughead watched you leave, then looking down at the key chain in his hand. As he went back inside and packed his things, he hooked the key chain onto his backpack zipper, sighing as he looked at it.

The next three days Jughead was sleeping in the janitor closet at Riverdale High. It was perfect. He had his sleeping bag, and they had showers and bathrooms. You just couldn't find out.

That was until the fourth day. Archie had caught him. "Jug, what are you doing here so early?"

He put on a fake smile. "Just using this school's amazing state-of-the-art facility."

"No, seriously, what are you doing here?" So he showed his where he was sleeping. He explained that this was his living ever since the drive-in was closed. "I'll be back. I'm going to talk to my dad about you staying with us."

After some arguing, Jughead reluctantly agreed. "But Archie, you can't tell anyone about this. Especially not y/n." Knowing of his friend's crush, he nodded his head. He then headed out of the school, getting his phone out of his pocket to send you some texts.

The was a knock on the closet door. Jughead let out a laugh. "Archie you don't have to knock, it's not like this is my room or anything."

The door opened, you leaning against the door frame with a bag in hand. Jughead's smile immediately came off. "Can I come in?" You quietly asked.

"He told you?!" He stood.

"Please don't be mad at him!" You quickly said, going in and shutting the door. "I'm glad he did. Why didn't you tell me about this Jug?"

"You think I'm proud of this? I'm living in a closet. I use the school showers. I'm pathetic y/n."

"No you're not, Juggy. You You should've just told someone. You could've gotten help!" You huffed, putting the bag in your hand down. "I really didn't think you had a big ego. You should know that I don't care about where you're living, or if things are going bad. You just need to talk to me."

He scoffed, then looking at the bag. He was still angry, but curiosity got the better of him. "What's in the bag?"

You breathed out a humorless laugh. "Pop's. Eggs and bacon. I also stopped by a liquor store and got chocolate milk."

"For me?"

"For us." You looked back at him, his expression still looking angry. "What? Getting drinks separately was cheaper, and I like YooHoo okay? I figured I could make you feel better and save some money at the same time but I guess I was wrong and-"

He cut you off with a kiss. It surprised you at first, but you soon returned it. You cupped his face with his hands finding your waist. When he pulled away for air he kept your faces close. He looked downwards, and you smiled wide. It happened. It finally happened. You had just kissed Jughead.

"Aw, c'mon Jug." You stroked your thumb at his cheek. "Where's that smile that I love so much?" He looked to the side and gave you a big goofy smile. "There it is."

The door then opened and Archie saw the both of us in each other's embrace. "Oh. Sorry should I have knocked?"

Author Note: In case you were wondering this is what I pictured Jughead's goofy smile would be like.

[loveistrueblue]

Love on the Brave

Summary: “We have a pretty big performance in two weeks that we’ve been planning for months.” Reese sighed. “Can’t really do it if we don’t have a lead singer.”

“Well, you can save your paper.” Beckett slid it back towards Reese. “I have stage fright. Generalized anxiety disorder. And I just generally don’t like people that much. So, I’m not the best combo if you’re looking for a lead singer.”

“But you sing, right?” Reese asked.

“I do, but like I said-”

“It’s only a tryout. No pressure.”

Warnings: None. 

Pairings: Beckett/Reese. Implied Lev/Flint

Word Count: 3,149

Fic Type: Commissioned 3k fic for @eat-moar-veggis.

Notes: I was commissioned to write a 3k fic in response to the prompt, “Reese’s band has hit a stand still and they need a new lead singer, fast. When he hears a stranger singing, he knows Beckett would be perfect- if he didn’t have stage fright and wasn’t so closed off.” None of the characters in this fic belong to me, but are all Riley’s OCs. You can find more about them on their sideblog, @ask-villegas-sides.

I had such a great time with this prompt and writing this! Thank you to Riley for commissioning me to use your awesome characters. ❤

“This is the place you picked?” Reese asked, pushing open the door to the bar that boomed with the sound of customers talking excitedly. Music from speakers all around the building played quietly and the room buzzed with nervous energy. His guitar packed away in its bag, clutched tightly within Reese’s hands felt strangely like it was crackling with electricity.

“No, Reese, we are merely walking into a random bar for the mere enjoyment of it,” Reese’s friend and pianist Flint remarked dryly from beside him.

“Oh, be nice!” Lev chided, a big grin on his flushed face. The two drumsticks he’d retrieved from the car dangled from his left hand idly as he began walking towards the back to set up his drum set.

“This place is too small.” Reese grit his teeth at the sound of the lead singer’s voice from beside him. Harvey might have a wonderful stage presentation and a voice that could charm the devil himself, but he was the most irritating man to hit the face of the planet. “I thought you said this was a good opportunity, Reese?”

Flint scowled from his spot at the piano and Reese looked away, crossing his arms.

“It is. People come from all over the city to watch people perform.”

Harvey eyed the crowd. “There’s no more than fifty people here.”

“What did you expect?” Flint butted in. “An arena holding millions of people? We are a new band with little exposure. We must practice patience.”

Harvey rolled his eyes and made his way to the microphone, tapping it. Several of the customers turned to look, while others continued chattering. One customer flinched, seemingly sinking into his white and black striped pullover. Reese met his eyes briefly before the other guy looked away, glaring at a spot on the wall across from him.

Harvey stopped talking and gestured to Reese. Reese began playing the first notes to the song and Harvey began to sing. A couple of people in the bar watched them, seemingly semi-invested. Others continued talking, glancing every once and a while at the band on the small platform.

The boy in the pullover stared at the wall the entire time.

()

Reese should have known a fight would break out at some point after the performance. Lev had messed up a couple of times, dropping his drumsticks halfway through a song. Reese had slipped and fell- then Harvey’s mic was muted during one of his solos.

So, when the four were sitting together in the back, the bar completely empty, when Harvey came up right in Reese’s face and spat out, “I quit,” it wasn’t the biggest surprise in the world.

Reese slammed his water bottle down on the table. “Excuse me?” he snapped. “You’re what?”

“You heard me,” Harvey said. “I’m done. This is bullshit. We don’t get along, our luck is garbage, and this dipshit can’t even play the drums right.”

At that comment, Flint stood up. “You ought to reconsider what you are saying.”

“Mad that I hurt your boyfriend’s feelings?”

Lev stepped in between the two, splaying a hand over their chests. “I think that’s enough, guys,” he said softly.

Harvey grabbed Lev’s wrist none too lightly and flung it away from himself. Lev whined, pulling it to his own chest. Like a switch had flicked on, Flint’s expression shifted from mild annoyance to rage. Before Reese could put a stop to it, Flint was swinging his fist into Harvey’s face.

“Flint!” Lev cried. Reese darted forward, yanking Flint back by his waist and pushing him down into a chair.

“Just get out,” Reese snapped.

Harvey snickered. “Good luck on finding a lead singer in two weeks, dumbass.”

“Get out!”

Harvey grinned, grabbed his bag, and marched out of the bar, letting the door clatter shut behind him. The room was filled with silence before Lev whispered quietly, “Oh no.”

Reese tried for a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Lev. Worst-case scenario, I’ll do Harvey’s solo myself.”

Flint raised an eyebrow. “You do not have the same vocal range as he does. You cannot sing low enough.”

“I didn’t ask you. Besides, you ruined all chances of us convincing him to stay when you punched him.”

“He had already made up his mind and you are well aware of that.” Flint sighed. “We will have to cancel.”

“We can’t cancel!” Lev cried. “No. It took us forever to get accepted as performers at this concert. It’ll be almost fifteen thousand people, Flint! That’s our biggest crowd yet.”

Flint sighed. “I am well aware, Lev. However, if we do not have a lead singer there is little that we can do.”

Lev’s lower lip wobbled. “Guys. Please.”

“Lev… Think logically. How would we manage to teach a new singer everything in two weeks?”

“It’s only one song,” Lev pleaded. “And it’s not even super hard. Please. We can’t give up yet.”

Reese took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll try to find someone. Maybe we can make posters and stuff. See what happens. But if we don’t find anybody by next week, we need to cancel. Got it?”

Lev nodded. “We’ll find somebody. I’m sure of it, Reese.”

Reese smiled, but deep down, he felt like the odds were not in their favour in the slightest bit.

()

Reese drug a hand over his face as he walked into the coffee shop, a small stack of flyers tucked away under his right arm, quietly berating himself. He was so stupid. He should have known that slimeball Harvey would quit. He’d been an ass since day one. And now, Reese needed to find a singer in time for next week or they’d miss one of the biggest opportunities of their lives. He pinned up two of the flyers advertising the lead singer’s position on the board in the shop. Then, he approached the counter.

Reese startled- it was the guy from the night before in the black and white pullover. Though this time, he was wearing a black t-shirt underneath the blue apron the employees wore. Reese grinned and sauntered the rest of the way to the counter, leaning over and grinning wider.

“Hey. You saw my band last night, didn’t you?” Reese’s eyes flitted to the nametag marked, “Beckett,” then back up to his face. “What’d you think?”

Beckett shrugged. “You guys were okay. Your lead singer was a tool though.”

“Yeah… he is. But he’s not our singer anymore. He quit.”

“Shame,” Beckett said dryly. “Are you gonna order or just stand here and talk about your band?”

Reese looked behind him and when he saw there were no customers behind him, he smirked. “Both. I’ll have an iced caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream, extra caramel, and two pumps of caramel syrup.” Beckett raised his eyebrows but marked down the order and handed it off to his coworker who began working on the drink.

Reese leaned over farther on the counter. “So. You sing?”

Beckett scoffed. “I sing. But in private. With the doors locked. Windows boarded. Room soundproofed.”

“I get it,” Reese said with a laugh. He grabbed one of the flyers and slid it across the counter. “But, if you decide you wanna step outside your comfort zone, you could come hit us up. We’re pretty desperate.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“We have a pretty big performance in two weeks that we’ve been planning for months.” Reese sighed. “Can’t really do it if we don’t have a lead singer.”

“Well, you can save your paper.” Beckett slid it back towards Reese. “I have stage fright. Generalized anxiety disorder. And I just generally don’t like people that much. So, I’m not the best combo if you’re looking for a lead singer.”

“But you sing, right?” Reese asked.

“I do, but like I said-”

“It’s only a tryout. No pressure.” Reese slid the paper back over, accepting his coffee from the coworker handing it over. “Destiny is knocking, dearest Beckett! You might wanna answer.” Reese gave a dramatic bow and walked out of the shop, ignoring the glare Beckett was shooting him on the way out.

()

If Reese was being truthful, he 100% did not expect Beckett to show to try out at all. However, it seemed the universe was full of surprises, for Beckett walked in their open garage at six pm, holding his phone against his chest and wearing that same black and white pullover from the night at the bar.

“Dude!” Reese said, standing up off the floor. “You came!”

Beckett scowled. “Against my better judgement.”

“You still came,” Reese said, grinning. “Flint- Lev- this is Beckett. Beckett, Flint and Lev.”

“Salutations.”

“Hey!”

Beckett’s corners of his mouth cocked upward in some semblance of a smile. “’Sup?”

“What song are you gonna do?” Reese asked, leaning against the wall of the garage.

“A song by uhm… My Chemical Romance.”

Reese raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”

“I Don’t Love You.”

“Angsty. I like it.”

Beckett rolled his eyes. “Look, I really… shouldn’t be doing this. This was stupid.”

Flint and Lev both looked surprised. Reese merely shrugged. “Well, you’ve already grabbed the stupid sticks, might as well use them and finish the tryout.”

Beckett scowled. Reese smiled back brightly.

“Fine,” Beckett gritted out. “but I can’t play an instrument so I’m just going to… sing. Plain.”

“Acapella,” Flint said. He actually smiled at that.

Beckett grit his teeth and Reese noticed his hands were trembling as he shoved them into the pockets of his pullover. Then, he began to sing.

He was good. His voice was rich and low with just a little bit of excessive breath. It was bitter and full of emotion and… perfect. Reese’s lips parted in surprise as Beckett went through the song, slowly relaxing as it progressed on further.

When he finished, his body tensed once more and he took a step back. Lev cheered and clapped loudly.

“What’s your phone number?” Reese asked, sounding quite strangled.

“My… phone number?”

“To call you. In case… in case we choose you.”

Flint rolled his eyes beside Reese and muttered something about the choice already being clearly in front of them. Reese ignored him as Beckett walked over and accepted Reese’s phone from Reese. He typed his number in and stepped back again.

“We’ll make our choice and let you know by tonight,” Reese said.

Beckett nodded, walking out of the garage. Reese turned to Flint and Lev and grinned widely.

“I think we found a winner.”

()

“We call ourselves Royal Princetine!” Lev said excitedly. Beckett raised an eyebrow. “You know, like pristine, but with prince.”

Flint sighed. “Let it be known- the name was highly discouraged by me. However, Reese really took to it.”

“I suppose it’s kind of… cool,” Beckett said.

The four were sitting in the garage, surrounded by posters with the band logo on them and sheets of music. Beckett was frowning down at the sheets, hands still trembling. It seemed he did that a lot, Reese noted.

“Thank you again for stepping in, Beckett,” Lev said. “I dunno how we would do this without you.”

“We wouldn’t have,” Flint said simply. “We could not have performed. None of us have the proper vocal range and there were not many suitable or tolerable people who tried o-”

“All right, man. Let’s get to practicing the song, hm?” Reese said, quirking an eyebrow.

Flint sighed. “Of course.”

“It’s a Romantic song,” Lev said excitedly, laying out one of the pages in front of Beckett. “We called it Love on the Brave. Like love on the brain but-”

Beckett smirked. “I got it. Cheesy but it’s cute.”

Lev grinned. “Yeah? I wrote it. Reese helped with some of the lyrics, but I did the music part.”

Beckett’s eyes were flitting over the page as he took in the lyrics. Reese’s heart fluttered when Beckett looked up and met his eyes, smirking. “We should probably start practicing, yeah?”

Reese nodded. “We all already know our parts and our music and everything…” Reese smiled. “Let’s see how you fare.”

()

Over the next week and a half Reese learned four things:

1)      Beckett closes his eyes when he sings. A lot. It’s kind of attractive.

2)      Beckett also runs his hand through his hair a lot when he sings. Also kind of attractive.

3)      Beckett learns very quickly. Also hella attractive, considering Reese’s dream of performing in front of a huge audience is not, in fact, yet doomed.

4)      Beckett makes the room disappear when he sings; his voice draws a person in with the pure emotion of it all and makes you Reese feel like you’re floating. Which, also happens to be hella attractive.

()

Reese shuffled into a booth across from Beckett, setting aside his wallet and phone, smiling brightly. The lights were dim, the fake candle flickering its light between them.

“Thanks for coming,” Reese said. “And thanks for trying out and stepping up like this… I- we all really appreciate it.”

Beckett shrugged. “Got nothing better to do.”

“Still. I know… I know how much you’re stepping out of your comfort zone here and it means a lot.”

“Well,” Beckett said quietly, “there’s just something about you that makes me feel a little brave, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Reese asked.

“Yeah.”

Reese felt his face heating with a blush. Slowly, he extended his hand and laid it on Beckett’s. “I’m really glad you tried out.”

“Me too.”

()

It was the big day. Reese woke up four hours before his alarm and spent two of those hours in his bathroom practicing on his guitar. He spent the other two pacing and practicing the lyrics over and over in his head. Then, he showered, ate a quick breakfast, and got in his car and drove downtown.

All that for him to arrive backstage and see Beckett hunched over, crying on the floor.

“He won’t talk to us,” Flint hissed desperately.

Reese carefully approached the spot where Beckett sat and hunched down. He laid a hand on his shoulder and quietly said, “Hey.”

“I can’t do it.” Beckett looked up and Reese’s eyes widened in alarm when he saw the state of Beckett- he was trembling, face covered in a sheen of sweat. “Reese, I can’t do it. I-… I’m nowhere near as good as you guys. I don’t belong. I-”

Reese leaned over, gently grasping Beckett by the shoulders. He smiled softly. “Beckett. You belong. You’ve earned your place here just as much as any of us have. Your voice is gorgeous. You’re beautiful. Everyone is gonna love you.”

“Really?”

“Not even prince charming himself could compare.”

Beckett’s face split into a grin. “You… you are the most extra person I have ever met in my life.”

“Do you like that?” Reese asked, leaning in closer. He could feel Beckett’s breath against his face and watched Beckett’s eyes flit over Reese’s face and jaw, then settle on looking into his eyes.

“Yeah,” Beckett said breathlessly. “I like it a lot. You… make me feel brave.”

Reese felt his throat close up and his eyes burn with tears, but they felt like a happier sort of tears, not unlike the ones you get when you’re overwhelmed with unadulterated love for somebody. And maybe that was what he was feeling then, so strongly, for Beckett- Love.

Reese leaned in, cupping Beckett’s jaw, and pressed his lips against Beckett’s. Beckett’s own hands scrambled up and held Reese’s jaw as the two kissed softly until Beckett pulled apart, smiling.

“You’re a sap, Reese.”

“Maybe so. And what about it?” Reese challenged.

Beckett pulled him in and kissed him again. Reese’s heart soared.

()

“Do you have your microphone?” Flint asked.

“Yes,” Beckett answered.

“Reese?”

“Yep.”

“Lev?”

“Yeppers!”

Flint sighed in relief. “All right. Sound will turn ours off during Beckett’s beginning solo, however, ten seconds before the hook begins, they will turn them on. Try not to breathe too heavily into them, please. That would make us look foolish.”

“Don’t worry, nerd. We’ll be fine,” Reese said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Flint didn’t look convinced. “We need this performance to go well-” Lev leaned over and landed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Flint’s face immediately flushed a bright red and he nervously ran a hand over his collar.

“You’re gonna do great, Flint,” Lev said.

Flint smiled one of his rare smiles and nodded. “Follow me.”

The four made their way up on the stage where the announcer was calling out their name. Reese’s heart was thudding pleasantly in his chest as he stepped across the stage and eyed the filled seats of the small arena. The audience roared with applause and a few cheers. Reese grinned when he met Beckett’s eyes across the stage from where Beckett was adjusting his wireless mic into the stand.

“Uhm… hey,” Beckett began then flinched a little as the audience cheered in greeting. Reese shot him a reassuring thumbs up and Beckett cleared his throat. “Who else is excited to hear a song about love and existential dread?”

Several laughs and even louder cheering echoed across the arena in response. Beckett smiled shyly in response and adjusted the microphone needlessly one more time.

“Who wants Reese to get his ass in gear and start playing that guitar?” Beckett asked. More cheering. Beckett then looked over to Reese and smirked. Then, he nodded and Reese grinned wickedly and began strumming out the first three loud notes on his guitar.

Then Lev’s drums began to slam into the melody along with Flint’s piano. Reese watched, almost as starstruck as the audience, as Beckett leaned into the microphone and began singing the verse. His voice surrounded Reese warmly and he found himself smiling wider than he could remember smiling in a long while.

“And I know that life kind of sucks,” Beckett sang, drawing into the hook with a theatrical shrug, the three joining in, “but it doesn’t suck quite as much when I remind myself that I’ve got you.”

Lev’s drums thrummed quietly, building tension, as Beckett pulled away from the mic. Then, he leaned back in, taking one quick and shaky breath before belting out, “You make me feel brave!”

Reese shivered, Beckett’s voice echoing through the arena and in his head as he strummed along with the song. Beckett’s voice was perfectly on key, deep and somber, and full of the emotion that he’d practiced over and over again.

As the song ended and the audience erupted into loud cheering, Reese thought to himself that if he could bottle a moment and treasure it forever, it would be this one. And when Beckett turned to Reese to smile wide, as if he couldn’t believe he had done it, Reese felt his stomach swoop. He was so far gone for him.

He didn’t mind one bit.

[sunriseskog]

Dissapointed- Taylor Leier

Request: hi can I request and imagine with taylor leier? where he gets jealous and y’all fight but make up in the end. there isn’t enough taylor leier on here!! thank youu!!!

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Fluff/Comfort

Word Count: 1210

You had invited your childhood best friend, Lucas, over to your and Taylor’s shared apartment to watch the final Flyers game of a two-week long stretch of roadies. The two of you had always been particularly affectionate, but the fact that you had passed tipsy and moved directly into wine-drunk over an hour ago meant that you had ended up under his arm with your feet tucked under you during the final period. Having Taylor gone for such long periods of time often left you fairly clingy and touch-starved, so you found yourself leaning into his affection more than usual.

 Growing up, the both of you had had a pretty distant relationship with your parents so you often turned to each other when you needed comfort. After Lucas came out to you, it had pretty much been a no-brainer that the two of you would be cuddle buddies for the rest of your lives. You were so caught up in remembering how the two of you would interact in high school that you didn’t notice the end of the period until you heard the commentators announce the final score: Flyers 3- Penguins 4. Shit.

You let your head fall to rest in your hand as Lucas rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder. You quickly reached for the remote and changed the channel, unwilling to listen to any more of the analysis of the game. Luckily, the channel you had switched to happened to be playing Bob’s Burgers reruns, so you settled back into the couch, eager to get your mind off of the game in preparation for Taylor’s return home. Lucas’s hand moved to play with your hair like he usually did, he had been the one to teach you how to braid hair and ever since then it had just become a habit. Your hands were tucked into the pockets of his sweatshirt as a result of your perpetually frigid fingertips. In retrospect, yeah, it was a little much, and yes, it did definitely look like the two of you were dating but how often had Taylor pulled the same shit with his friends and his fans and random girls that come up to him when he’s out with his friends. Plus, Lucas was fucking gay, a fact that you had mentioned to Taylor many times. You had also warned Taylor that Lucas would be at the apartment after he had asked why you wouldn’t be coming to the home game. This was the first time you were seeing Lucas in almost a year and a half and you didn’t want to have to deal with the absolute field day the press would have if you showed up to the game with another man.

Despite all of this, when Taylor came back to the apartment, he did so screaming. Your head turned as you heard the door open, but you made no move to get up, unsure of what kind of mood Taylor would be in after that night's game. He kicked his suitcases to the side and let them roll haphazardly towards the living room as he stared at you with a fire in his eyes that you never thought you’d see turned on you.

“What the literal fuck,” he deadpanned, staring at you somewhere in between furious and disbelieving.

“Hey, baby wh”

“Don’t fucking ‘hey, baby’ me, I asked you a goddamn question, (Y/N)” he gritted out through his clenched teeth.

“I’m uhhh… I’m gonna go,” Lucas said quietly into your ear, visibly flinching as Taylor flexed at him as he walked past.

“What the FUCK was that!” You yelled at Taylor, upset that he had caused your best friend to leave so suddenly.

“Ex-fucking-scuse me? You think you have the right to fucking ask ME that right now? I’m gone for two and half fucking weeks, two and a half shitty fucking weeks for that, I just had a shit game that my girlfriend decided not to go to, even though she was perfectly able to do so, only to come home and find her on some other fucking assholes lap. Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?” He questioned angrily, stalking closer to you until he was practically spitting in your face.

“First of all, I’m really gonna need you to calm the fuck down. Second of all, if you’d just let me expl-“

“Oh there is no way in fucking hell you actually just told me to calm down,” Taylor leveled, staring you down and speaking in a terrifying cold voice. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are right now but I’m not fucking putting up with it. Ge the fuck away from me,” He growled, shouldering past you and heading towards your bedroom.

“He’s fuCKING GAY YOU JACKASS!” You yelled just as he slammed the door, storming into the kitchen to grab your keys and your wallet before heading to your car. “I don’t have to fucking take this bullshit. I don’t give a fuck that he had a shitty game or what the fuck ever. What the fuck was that? Fuck him.” You grumble to yourself climbing into your car, failing to notice Taylor walking out of the house until you heard a sheepish knock on the driver side window. You slowly rolled down the window, staring at Taylor with an annoyed and frustrated look in your eyes, unwilling to put up with any more of his shit tonight.

“That…That was Lucas, wasn’t it?” He questioned, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you guiltily.  

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it was, so thanks for fucking that up I guess,” you glared.

“Fuck babe, I’m-“ he let his head drop to where his hands rested on the window sill. “I’m so sorry, fuck, I don’t know what came over me. I just- the whole game and the whole way home all I could think about was how much I missed you and how much I wanted you in my arms and then we lost and then I came home and you were in somebody else arms and I just. I was so disappointed in myself and I feel like my team is so disappointed in me and I just. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you either,” he spoke, his voice cracking at the end, a singular tear slipping out of the corner of his eye before he angrily wiped it away. You quickly turned your car back off and jumped out to cradle his head against your chest as he cried. You rubbed soothing circles into his back and kissed the nape of his neck as he let out a few more soft cries. You gently led him back upstairs, not caring that you had left your window completely open.

“Oh, bubba,” you spoke softly, gripping both sides of his face to lift his head so he was looking you in the eyes. “You could never disappoint me and I swear I am never gonna find somebody better for me than you are. I love you, I’m in love with you, and I’m here for good,” you spoke firmly while maintaining eye contact.

[thekillingquill]

Dark Side of Your Room | Episode 5

This is a sequel to At the Drive-In. However, having read the prequel is not necessarily a requirement. I leave that up to your discretion. At The Drive-In: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Pairing: Jughead x Reader, Jughead x Betty Word Count: 6,661 Warnings: Curse words, mentions of drugs and alcohol, I did not proof this at all... probably should have split this into two parts. Summary: Jughead and Reader reconnect at Southside High where he notices that she’s wearing a very familiar leather jacket. It’s not long until he has a jacket of his own. A/N: It’s funny but I had Acts 1 & 2 of this mostly written before the season premiere and like... jingle jangle am I right. Anyway, this is a long chapter. I like a lot of elements of it and hope you will reblog/message/interact about what your favourite parts were, too. P.S. The cure to writers block? Folding laundry.

Somewhere in between Who I used to be And who I’ll be tomorrow When the champagne blows my mind Thrills don’t come for free The price you pay for dreams In a sea of strangers I can’t find me anymore.

On Monday she and Jughead sit on opposite ends of the same table in the cafeteria. The group around them is lively, full of a buoyancy that she can’t mirror. She tries not to be obvious when she watches him and tries harder not to be pleased when she catches him watching her in return. He’s more easily dragged into conversations, open to laughter, and personable with the Serpents or kids of Serpents that sit here each day. He fits in seamlessly with the group.

She’s seen him like this, before, with Archie, Veronica, and Betty in a booth at Pop’s. His smiles came easily, his jokes flowed freely and all four of them were a shining beacon of love and friendship. But she can’t help but remember all of the times he sat in the booth and stood apart from the others on the days where his darkness threatened to break through the surface.

Even though they’re at the same table, she and Jughead don’t speak to each other and she’s glad for it. She made a mistake, exposing herself the way she did. She is cursed to love Jughead Jones the Third for the rest of her young life, but he never needed to know about it. Now that he did, though? Every glance exchanged between them felt like gunpowder keg rolling toward an open flame.

People were starting to notice--or rather, one person: Ricki Penderghast. Every school has a girl like Ricki blowing through their halls: loud, brash, knowledgeable. Not the most well liked person, but a loyal friend to be had. Ricki was the first friend Y/N made here and though she may flit away at times, she always came back to be loud, brash, and knowledgeable.

“I’m feeling about 80-85% certain that the new tall, dark, and weird kid wants to get you in the backseat of his car.”

“Yeah, he has a girlfriend and he doesn’t have a car.” Y/N tells her trying to sound bored. Her damnable flushed cheeks give her away, though, because Ricki’s lips twist up into an amused smirk.

“Fine. I’ll amend my previous statement: he looks like he wants to take you anywhere he can have you. And he doesn’t look at you like he’s somebody’s boyfriend. Honey, he looks at you like he’s starving and you? You look like a fuckin’ three course meal. Would it really hurt to give him a little taste?”

Y/N gives Ricki a sharp look.

“New topic or leave.” She tells her firmly. Ricki, blessed with her mother’s full lips, pouts and widens her brown eyes. The expression melts back into her smug smirk after a beat and she playfully pulls at a strand of Y/N’s hair.

“Fine. How’s this for a topic change: there’s gonna be a flyer in your locker before the end of the day.” Ricki releases the strand of hair and reaches between Y/Ns arms to snag a baby carrot, biting down on it with an exaggerated eyebrow lift, knowing that she now has the other girl’s full attention.

“Hey--” Y/N starts, distracted momentarily by the theft. She switches topics quickly. “How do you know about the flyers?” There’s no point in another argument with Ricki, especially over a carrot. It’s never a good idea to pick too many fights with girls like Ricki, because they’ll fight dirty and they’ll keep fighting until it’s an all out war. The town is already on the brink of war and Riverdale doesn’t need a second before the first has even begun.

Ricki flashes her purple coated eyelid in a wink and pushes away from the table. Y/N watches her saunter away, irritated when Ricki pauses at Jughead’s shoulder. She clenches her fist as Ricki leans down to whisper something to him. Y/N can tell that Jughead is working to keep his expression neutral, but she can see the small signs of worry and embarrassment in the way he tilts his chin toward his chest, keeping his eyes on the table while the tips of his ears flush red, and a slight crease forms by the corner of his mouth.

He looks up when Ricki leaves and Y/N doesn’t turn away fast enough. Their eyes meet and she is lost. She has never wanted anything the way she wants him and the realization has her shaking in her seat. He has her heart in his hand and she’s sure that he knows it now. The uncertainty of what he plans to do with it has her feeling on edge, like at any moment he could bring her to her knees or drown her in euphoria.

The bell rings and their connection is severed. She leaves her tray behind and speed walks out of the cafeteria to her locker. Like Ricki predicted, there is a crumpled piece of acid green paper sitting at the bottom. Y/N smooths the page out, admiring the outline of a snake for a moment before she flips the page, noting the time and place. She puts the flyer between the pages of her math textbook and slams her locker shut.

Alexander doesn’t reply to her calls or texts until Wednesday morning. She expects a joke, an eggplant emoji, or a fucking finally!!! Instead, she gets two words: skip fifth. It’s not the first time he’s asked her to skip class, but the notion of sneaking out of school to meet him always gives her butterflies.

It’s almost too easy to slip outside in the rush between fourth and fifth period. She knows that Alexander won’t be waiting outside of the school in plain sight, so she keeps her head down and power walks down the street. She finds him pulled to the side of the road, straddling his bike and sporting his Serpent jacket. His face is obscured by his helmet and she finds herself feeling unnerved by him. There is something dark and desperate surrounding him, but she knows that she’ll go with him because it’s what she always does.

He kicks the bike to life while she clips on her own helmet and he doesn’t wait for her to signal that she’s ready before he accelerates. She clings desperately to him, trying to recover her balance. WIth a rush of anger, she digs her nails into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, raking them across his abdomen. She hopes it hurts.

Alexander rides recklessly, blowing through every amber light and taking sharp corners. For a brief moment, Y/N believes that this is going to be it for her--her last ride, her last anything--when Alexander pulls into an underground parking garage and kills the engine. She had wrongly assumed that he would take her home.

“Where are we?” She demands as soon as she removes her helmet. Alexander, already unburdened of his helmet, pulls his fingers through his hair and shakes it out. He rolls his eyes and grabs her helmet from her, putting his back to her.

“What have I told you about questions, baby girl?” He asks, but there’s no bite to his voice. He gestures with a hand for her to follow him to a metal door with chipped green paint being held open by a cinderblock. She clenches her jaw to keep silent, glaring at his back while they ascend three flights of stairs.

She had been very clear when she told him that she never wanted to step foot inside of apartment 307 again, yet here they were: standing outside of apartment 307, waiting for someone to answer the door. A quiet anger begins to fester inside of her that she can’t force down. It’s dangerously close to boiling over and the worst part is that Alexander won’t even look at her.

The door opens as far as the chain will allow, one wide blue eye staring out from the crack. The barrel of a gun glints in the light, pointed directly at Alexander’s chest.

“Who the fuck is the chick?” The one eyed man asks in a low voice tight with a worry that verges on paranoia. She knows enough to recognize that this man is on something, and it scares her that she doesn’t know what it could be. Alexander laughs lowly, placing his palm flat on the door and pushing on it. The chains creak loudly in protest and Y/N begins to feel a real terror creeping up her spine.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, asking me questions like that? She is with me and that’s all you need to know. Now open the FUCKING DOOR.” Alexander punctuates the end of his sentence by slamming his hand flat against the wood. Both Y/N and the man flinch at the echoing bang.

The man and the gun disappear and the door shuts, only to reopen moments later. Alexander shoulders his way inside roughly, shoving the man into the wall as he passes by. Y/N stays close to his back, keeping her eyes down.

Jughead may be right about her, she doesn’t want to see this side of Alexander--the recklessness, bad decisions… the danger. Alexander fumbles for her wrist, pulling her ahead of his body. Her eyes don’t have time to adjust to the dark hallway before he shoves her inside of a room that is aglow with multiple tealight candles and soft afternoon light.

“Show me,” Alexander demands, hand out and fingers twitching in expectation. Y/N pulls the folded acid green paper from her pocket and holds it out to him. For the first time since he picked her up from school, she catches a glimpse of his face. The state of him knocks the air from her lungs and her fear is overpowered by genuine concern for the boy in front of her.

The brief glimpse is enough to showcase the circles under his eyes, which are dark with something dangerous and desperate. His unkempt appearance and three day old stubble, along with his return to apartment 307, are all warning signs for something she won’t let herself think about. Everything about this situation worries her.

Alexander crouches down with his back toward her, teasing the flame with the corner of the flyer, transfixed by the tealight. She drops down beside him, analyzing his side profile. She wants to physically grab him and pull him out of this situation. She wants to squeeze him so tightly to her chest that she breaks his carefully crafted facade of what a man should be to reveal the boy underneath. She wants to know how she hasn’t noticed his backsliding before now.

An apology is dancing on the tip of her tongue. He’s been looking out for her from day one, but she hasn’t been doing the same for him. She feels guilty, like she has been taking their relationship for granted, and it blinds her momentarily to all of his shortcomings (and there are so god damn many).

“I can’t take you to this party.” He tells her distractedly as the paper begins to smoke.

“What do you mean you can’t take me to this party? Alexander, you need to be working that party!” Alexander rolls his eyes lazily.

“That’s why I can’t take you. I gotta be hustlin’ all night. I ain’t gonna have time to be babying you, alright? Someone else is going to have to take you.” It occurs to her that Alexander already has someone in mind.

“How the fuck do you go from being a possessive control freak to handing me off to a disloyal snake?” Alexander stands abruptly and turns to her and his face is a hurricane.

She stumbles back into the wall without realizing it, a true terror gripping her entire being. She is frozen in place as he descends upon her, flames crawling up the flyer that is still pinched between his index finger and thumb. She raises a trembling hand, pointing at the burning paper and he drops it to the ground, stomping out the flames.

“Stop your fucking shaking, baby girl. I’m not going to hit you.” He says with contempt. They’re in the eye of the hurricane now and she can’t seem to catch her breath. “Breathe, baby girl, breathe.”

He’s trying to be soothing, but he’s forgotten how. She knows that he’s frustrated with her, can see his grasp on patience slipping steadily. He growls, a low sound that sends her heart into overdrive, and turns his back to her. She sucks in a desperate breath and the storm rages on.

“We wouldn’t have this problem if you just did your fucking part. Why is the kid still asking questions huh? Why is he disloyal? Huh? What is the fucking hold up here?” Alexander turns back to face her, taking two large steps forward until he is nearly pressed against her. “These are not rhetorical questions, baby girl.”

It feels like someone has just dropped a lead weight on her chest, but she somehow finds enough air in her lungs to reply.

“I’ve been trying to tell you. He has a girlfriend and we are not the kind of people who can ignore that. Betty Cooper is his first love and I can’t break that bond. You’re wrong about us, Alexander.” She desperately tries to fill her lungs again, but it feels like trying to breathe through a straw clogged with one of Pop’s shakes.

Alexander laughs lowly, gripping the side of her face and tilting her head up. He places a hard, sloppy kiss on her forehead and then steps back from her.

“I’ve been waiting for you to see it, for the both of you to open your goddamn eyes. Betty Cooper isn’t Jughead Jones’ first love and she never was. It’s you, baby girl, it has always been you. FP saw it, I see it, I bet even Pop Tate noticed it.”

“No,” she whispers, hitting the back of her head against the wall. “That’s not true.”

“Look,” Alexander begins with a sigh, placing his hands on her shoulders. Something in his sigh makes it easier for her to breathe. His eyes, she realizes, are softer than she has ever seen them. There is a raw vulnerability to his expression, a gentleness to his touch, that steadies her. “I get that it scares you, but it’s love, baby girl. I’ve… I’ve been in it and I know what it looks like. You love him don’t you?”

She has only said it out loud once, indirectly, in a bathroom to the wrong person. She locks her jaw, swallows the words back. She won’t say it, she won’t.

“I already know you do. I need to hear you say it, okay? Say it, Y/N.” His grip on her shoulders tightens and he pulls her impossibly closer.

“No,” she says stubbornly. Alexander smirks down at her, backing slowly away from her with his hands up.

“So you’re not going to care when he goes missing because he can’t keep his nose clean. It won’t kill you to know that he’s sinkin’ in the goddamn river with a third eye. You don’t love him.” Y/N can’t help but flinch at his words, her hand coming up to rest over her heart.

“Stop,” she tells him quietly.

“No, I won’t stop. Not until you say it out loud, baby girl.” Alexander moves to the tealight, teasing the air above the flame with his fingers. “You know I’ll be the one to do it, don’t you? God help me, I’m starting to like that little shit.”

“Alexander,” she tries to say with authority. Except it comes out watery and she realizes that she’s crying. She drags in a shuddering breath and says the words out loud. “I do. I do love him.” Alexander gives her a rare smile.

“Good. Does he know yet?” She can’t speak through the lump in her throat, so she nods once. “This party will definitely be one for the books. Now let’s get you back to school, baby girl, before Moms puts my balls on display for the neighbours.”

She knows that going to this party will mean going with Jughead. As Alexander begins to lead her out of the room she starts running through scenario after scenario of what could happen at this party. All of them end badly.

“You look nice. You and Alexander going somewhere tonight?” Y/N jumps at the sound of Moms’ voice. Y/N laughs nervously and smooths down her skirt, looking up at Moms through her eyelashes. It’s a rare sight, to find Moms sitting casually at the dining room table with a laundry basket next to her bare feet. Moms works such odd hours that she usually does chores while Y/N is at school or in the middle of the night when Y/N is supposed to be sleeping.

And Y/N almost never sees Moms outside of her work clothes. It’s a little jarring to see Moms with her hair down, outside of a ponytail or a sleek bun it is a thick forest of dark curls wearing a loose grey night shirt with a faded image of Eeyore on it and a pair of black cotton shorts.

The Man, in a moment of romanticism, once quietly remarked that Moms is still as beautiful as she was when she was 17 years old. Y/N can see it--Moms is a slight woman comprised of soft curves. Her skin always appears flawlessly smooth, a tawny beige with golden undertones and these long dark eyelashes that frame her warm honey eyes.

Despite being soft in appearance, there is an indescribable strength and fierceness to be found in those eyes. They say what her mouth will not--you will not fuck with me, I am a goddess and can not be touched by any mortal.

“Uhm, no actually. Jughead’s going to pick me up.” Moms momentarily pauses folding a t-shirt to fix her foster daughter with a worried stare.

“But he’s going to be there, right? I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with you going to one of these things without him. I don’t know this Jughead. I mean, who names their kid Jughead?” Y/N laughs quietly into her fist.

“Jughead is FP’s son. He’s got a good heart.” Y/N pauses when she hears the distinct sound of a motorcycle pulling onto the loose gravel outside of their home.

“But Alexander is going to be there tonight, right?” Moms begins to pull socks out of her basket at random, sighing when she can’t seem to find a match.

“Yeah, but he’s gonna be busy so he’s got Jughead looking after me.” Moms sighs again, a heavier sound in their quiet conversation. She throws the mismatched socks back into her basket and leans her elbow on the table, fixing Y/N with a hard look.

“Well you tell that Jughead Jones that I don’t give a hoot who his father is. I expect you home before midnight, virtue intact.” Y/N’s eyes dart to the front door when she hears the engine cut outside. She realizes that Moms meeting Jughead would be a worst case scenario that she hadn’t thought of when she was worrying about what would happen tonight.

“He’s got a girlfriend, Moms, and she’s a nice girl. She’s tenacious and clever and beautiful. I’m pretty confident that my virtue will be safe this evening.” She’s speaking too fast, and she’s scared that Jughead Jones is the kind of boy to come to the door when picking up a girl, even if that girl isn’t his girlfriend. She shuffles her feet, the zippers of her boots bouncing metallically off of each other as she tries to beat him to the door.

“If his girlfriend is so great, how come he’s not taking her to this party?” Moms asks with a raised eyebrow. The question brings the memory of Ricki’s statement and Alexander’s revelation to the forefront of her mind and she laughs, a tired sound.

“It’s not her scene.” And it’s not. Girls like Betty Cooper don’t belong in this world, but once upon a time Y/N used to think the same thing about herself. Now here she is, a frequent flyer collector and who knows? Give it a few weeks and maybe Jughead will be taking Betty to these parties. “I gotta go Moms, I’ll be home before midnight, okay?” She turns and reaches for the door when Moms’ voice cracks through the air like a whip and curls around her ankles to keep her in place.

“You know, you’re all of those things, too, Y/N. You’re kind, tenacious, clever, brave, strong and beautiful. I heard what you weren’t saying, and I don’t want to hear that again, do you understand? Under this roof, we will not speak of other people like they are above us. We are all God’s children.” Y/N doesn’t need to look back to know that Moms has her fingers curled over the silver cross she wears on a chain.

“Okay, I understand.” She replies quickly, escaping through the front door with a slight tremble. She can’t put it into words, but when Moms makes statements like those it gets to her. It makes her feel twitchy, like something inside of her is shifting to make room for something big. Something like hope. This unknown feeling, this potential hope, presses hard against her ribs when she sees Jughead sitting back on his motorcycle, helmet tucked under one arm.

“Alexander said I shouldn’t go to the door,” he tells her loudly, eyes glued to her shoes. She can’t be sure, but she thinks that he may have just checked her out. She jogs quickly toward him and pulls his helmet from his grip and he lets her.

He lets her push up on her toes, reaching above them both to pull the helmet over his beanie. He lets her clip it into place, closes his eyes against her lingering touch to his jaw. He opens his eyes and watches her trace the painted crown without any protest.

And then she is sliding on behind him, her breasts pressed against his back and her arms tightly wrapped around his middle, hands precariously placed and he lets her. The bike kicks to life and she presses her face against his shoulder, laughing when they spray up gravel and the wind lifts her hair behind her. She can’t see that he’s fighting a smile, but she can feel it. It reminds them both of nights at the drive-in, of the beautiful before.

She wants the feeling to stay, wants one night of before, but she feels it slipping away from them as they approach their destination. It evaporates when the engine dies and an empty feeling pushes its way between them--an obstacle unseen and impossible to press back against. She runs a hand through her hair, pushing through the tangles that the wind created, and walks ahead of Jughead to a front porch with the saggy stairs.

The flyer cited an address that is familiar to her--it’s the same house she came to when Alexander brought her to her first flyer party. She remembers it so clearly, the first night he crawled in through her bedroom window and wrapped her up in his arms.

“Baby girl,” he said looking down at her with a wicked grin. “I think you need to blow off some steam and I know just the place.” It had been strange, sneaking out that first time. Everything back then had been so unknown to her: the boy, the house, the adventure.

Now it’s a familiar routine. She doesn’t knock on the door or look back to see if Jughead is behind her. She opens the door and she is swept up by a crowd of familiar faces. Ricki is there, pressing a bottle into her hand and people are chanting her name. The excitement hits her hard and she’s grinning, laughing, clinking her bottle with her friends and her family, ready to blow off some steam.

There are hugs and high fives, kisses pressed to cheeks, gleeful greetings and before Y/N has made it through the living room she has finished the drink Ricki handed her in the entryway. She holds up her empty bottle, telling everyone that she needs a fresh one and pushes her way into the kitchen.

She feels so fucking alive and cared about. Everyone in this house wants to see her, wants to talk to her, wants to bask in her glow and she is so blindingly bright in this environment. Jughead hasn’t seen anything like it before. He realizes that he knew the light was there--had seen it in her the first night. He pauses at the entryway of the kitchen, watching her, unsure if he can stand to get that close to something so bright. It hits him in that moment that if he gets close to her, he could burn and it scares him.

“Hey man, can we get you a beer or something?” Jughead doesn’t know this guy, hasn’t seen him before.

“No, I’m good.” He tells him. The guy frowns.

“You sure, man?” He asks again, like maybe Jughead said no because he felt like he can’t say yes.

“I’m sure,” Jughead says with more heat. “I don’t drink.”

“Alright, man. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ve got a coupla virgins somewhere in there.” Jughead shakes his head, moving closer to Y/N who is leaning back against the counter and sipping a beer.

“They’ll keep asking, you know.” She tells him when he’s within earshot. “It’s like visiting an Italian household. They keep offering you food even if your plate is full and you’re fit to burst.”

“That’s fine. I don’t drink.” He says with more heat than he means to. She laughs and shakes her head.

“I can help,” she tells him, tilting her bottle toward him. “Just grab a beer and hold it. They’ll stop being pushy if you’re holding something.” Jughead rolls his eyes, feeling irritated about the crowd, about the noise, about how she’s flourishing here, about maybe being wrong about her, about how good she looks.

“How long do we have to stay here?” He grouses at her, folding his arms over his chest. She laughs, reaching out to pat his arm consolingly.

“Babe, we just got here. There’s a lot more fun to be had tonight.” And then she’s gone, flitting away from him, disappearing into the crowd. Jughead remembers Alexander’s instructions: stick close to her, keep her safe, and if any guys put their hands on her you break their fucking nose or I’ll break something of yours.

So he follows after her. She’s weaving in and out of the crowd with a practiced ease, exchanging grins and hugs with too many people for Jughead to keep count of. He finds an empty portion of wall and leans back against it, keeping his eyes trained on her as she starts to dance with her friends.

That’s how the night goes. She dances. People get excited to see her. She hugs them. She dances. She keeps her thumb pressed over the lip of her bottle, jumping around with a carefree abandon that is unfamiliar to him. Occasionally she takes a break, catching his eye and gesturing with a tilt of her head for him to follow her. She disappears into the bathroom, alone, and reappears with an infectious grin and flushed cheeks. She brushes against him and starts the routine over again

Alexander finds him leaning against the wall, his own cheeks flushed from the cold and hands in the pockets of his jeans, clad in his Serpent jacket. There is something dangerous about the guy that Jughead doesn’t fully trust. He nods at Jughead and leans next to him, finding Y/N easily in the middle of the crowd.

“She can really be the life of the party, huh?” He says casually to Jughead.

“I guess,” the younger boy replies, scowling.

“These guys keepin’ their hands to themselves?” Alexander presses, looking for a reaction.

“Yeah, she’s only been dancing with the other girls.” Alexander turns his gaze on Jughead, face devoid of emotion.

“What about you?” He asks. “Have you been keeping your hands to yourself, Jones?” Jughead’s eyes flick to Alexander before darting back to Y/N.

“Of course,” he says like it’s stupid for Alexander to ask. Alexander chuckles lowly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“See, that’s just not right. Do you see those guys over there.” Alexander uses his middle finger to draw Jughead’s attention to three or so guys standing in the corner. Their gazes are locked on the writhing crowd of dances. “They’re looking at our girl. Do you know what those assholes are thinking, Jones? They’re thinking they want to grip her hips and pull her back against them. They want to touch our girl, Jones. Do you know what you have to do?” Jughead raises an eyebrow as a shadow passes over Alexander’s face.

Alexander looks down at Jughead and sends him a wicked grin. “You’ve got to go out there and show those assholes that she’s not their fucking fantasy. That’s our girl, Jones. Show them.” He grips Jughead’s arm and shoves him toward the crowd of dancers. Jughead looks back with a glare and Alexander matches his stare with one of his own.

Jughead shoves clumsily through the crowd, ducking his head until he finds her. Tendrils of hair are sticking to her face and there are beads of sweat rolling slowly down her temples. She looks beautiful with her skin all flushed from exertion. He can tell by the way she’s moving her shoulders that she’s ready to take another break. He throws a glance over his shoulder and meets Alexander’s unwavering stare.

It’s a test, he realizes with a sinking feeling in his gut. He swallows his awkwardness, his fear and places his hands above her waist. Y/N’s eyes flutter open, searching for the person who has put their hands on her and relaxes when she meets his eyes. She steps closer to him, loops an arm around his neck and begins to sway. He swallows hard, overwhelmed by the scent of her and the heat of her.

“You look tired,” he comments lightly. She hums in response, touching her sweat soaked forehead to his shoulder. “I think the dancing portion of our evening has come to a close.” She hums again, letting him guide her out of the crowd. They come out by the three guys who were watching her dance and Jughead fixes them with his fiercest glare, wrapping an arm possessively around her shoulders.

Mine, his stare seemed to say. The three guys hold their hands up in the universal sign of surrender and Jughead gets a small thrill out of their reaction. She says something, but he doesn’t quite make it out over the noise. She repeats herself, pointing to the patio door and he understands that she wants to go outside.

There are people out on the lawn standing in groups of two or three, heads bent low. She opts to stay on the deck slightly elevated above them. She picks out Alexander immediately and settles onto a chair that faces his group. Jughead settles into the seat across from her and they sit in silence together for a moment, just breathing.

She’s so spent that she starts to laugh. Jughead joins in for a brief moment and then she lets out a final sigh of laughter before sitting up in her chair. She’s feeling giddy, brave… and stupid. So she opens her mouth and starts to talk.

“You know, I wasn’t on the South Side for more than a day before my dad was picking me up and taking me to the Wyrm. Do you know why he was taking me there? To introduce me to your dad. Only FP already knew who I was because he saw me sneaking around with you at the drive-in.” She pauses, to see if Jughead will say anything, but he remains silent.

“I’m tired Jughead.” She tells him, shutting her eyes and tilting her head back.

“Okay, I’ll take you home then.” He starts to get up and she opens her eyes.

“No,” she says firmly. Something in her eyes convinces him to take a seat again. “I’m tired of biting my tongue and pretending and of all of this, okay? I’m so fucking tired, Jughead. You know I love you, I know you know. When are you going to figure out that you love me, too?”

“I love Betty,” Jughead says immediately, and Y/N can see a genuine anger in his expression. It’s got more heat to it than she was expecting, more of a typhoon than a blizzard. She smiles softly, trying to disarm his ire and it works.

“I know you do.” She tells him gently. “But you loved me first. You’re my first love, Jughead Jones and one day you’re going to wake up and realize that I was your first love, too.”

“Betty--” he starts again, his voice too loud for the quietness of the backyard.

“--is great, Jughead! She’s smart, driven, and so beautiful. She’s just not your first love. Everyone can see it except for you. So let me ask you this, did you ever tell her about me? About the drive-in? Or did you keep it to yourself?”

Jughead seethes silently and she tilts her head back to rest her eyes once more, feeling like her point was proven.

“Who does the jacket belong to?” He asks her quietly. It’s an old question, one she never answered when he asked. She doesn’t open her eyes, only sighs out her own question in return.

“Who was your first love?” Her entire body jolts when his chair scrapes noisily over the patio. Her wide eyes follow him as he stands over her.

“Get Alexander to take you home, I’m done with this.” As Jughead walks away she wonders if he means that he’s done with the Serpents or with her. Maybe it’s both. She looks across the lawn to find Alexander, and sees him in the middle of a transaction with a hooded figure. She already knows that she won’t ask him to take her home.

She can’t face the party again and so she circles around the house and begins a long walk. She knows that she should head back to The Man and Moms’ house, but her feet have other ideas. She walks by Pop’s, to the construction site where the drive-in used to be, until she is at the place where she used to live with her mother and her father.

It doesn’t look any different on the outside. She wonders if there is still a stain from when her mother attacked her. She wonders if her father sleeps in the bed he shared with her mother or if he sleeps on the couch. It amazes her that she can look at this place where she spent most of her life and feel nothing but a mild curiosity.

To her, home might always be nights at the drive-in with a boy with a weird hat and an appetite for… anything, really. She laughs a little under her breath and turns her back to the place where she grew up.

It’s a little after two in the morning by the time she reaches the street where The Man and Moms live. She knows it’s past curfew, but she doesn’t rush. Not even when she hears the sounds of a person approaching--the telltale click of a heel on the sidewalk. If she had cared enough, she could have avoided the hand gripping her wrist and pulling her around.

Y/N’s lips part in surprise, her eyes widening in panic, as she is faced with someone that she has actively been avoiding since moving into the neighbourhood.

“Emily, hi!” Y/N clears her throat when she hears her voice echoed back to her on the empty streets. Emily Arnold, the neighbour’s daughter, looks exhausted in a way that only a single mother with a hyperactive five year old can. Wisps of blonde hair have escaped from her high ponytail and frame her face in a way that draws attention to her high cheekbones and kohl lined green eyes. Judging by the heels, she is just getting home from work.

“I need to talk to Alex.” She says with no preamble.

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” Emily takes a breath here and releases Y/N’s wrist. “Look, this isn’t about his overdue child support payments, okay. When you see Alexander--and I know you will so don’t even try to lie about it--you need to tell him that I need my dad’s gun back like yesterday. He’s planning to go to the gun range this weekend and he won’t be happy when he sees that it’s missing.”

Y/N has lost all feeling in her extremities.

“Alexander has your father’s gun?” She echoes. Emily rolls her eyes.

“That’s what I just said. So, let him know, okay? I need it back or my father may really kill him this time. He doesn’t need a gun to do it. He’ll use his bare hands.” Emily begins to continue the walk home when Y/N calls out to her. Emily pauses long enough for Y/N to catch up but does not cease her walk home.

“When did you give him the gun?” Y/N asks softly so that her voice won’t carry.

“A couple of weeks ago. He said he needed it for business and that after he’d be caught up on his child support payments. And I believed him. Because I never learn.” Emily does not keep her voice down, and it echoes in the space between their houses. “Anyway, this is me. Tell him, okay? See ya around.”

Y/N watches Emily disappear into her house and then leans against her own door trying to catch her breath.

“Alexander, you fucking idiot.” She whispers to the night.

She turns around and opens the door quietly, hoping that no one had stayed up waiting for her. The couch and chair are both empty, the house silent. She pushes onto her toes and takes careful steps into the kitchen where a light over the oven has been left on. There on the counter is a note from Moms.

Client went into labour. Call Sean when you get home!

“Oops, forgot to call.” She says to the empty house.

She has just finished getting ready for bed when she hears the sound of a motorcycle coming down the street. She sits up on her bed, letting the blankets fall around her waist and listens hard, trying to pinpoint its destination.

Gravel crunches and she throws the blankets back and shuffles quickly to her bedroom window. She squints until she can make out the details of the motorcycle and then its rider. She turns too quickly and bangs her knee on the bed with a curse, pushing through the pain and rushing to the front door.

She is just pulling it open when he puts his foot on the first step. They both freeze where they stand, assessing one another. Him, helmet in hand wearing his leathers, and her, in a tank top and a pair of plaid boxers. He is the one to break the silence.

“A guy showing up at a girl’s house at three in the morning to make a confession… The only way this could be even more of a cliche is if it were raining right now.” Jughead says with a timid half smile.

Now it’s four in the mornin’ I’m just tryin’ to fix myself What the hell did I do? I’m the life of the party. It’s so hard to imagine who I’d be if I walked away Never know what it’s like to be the life of the party.

TAG LIST:

@jillisbetterthanyou; @overdressed-overbaked; @thatsadbreakfastclub; @ju-gg; @forsythe-pendleton-jones-iv; @redhairedoddity; @murderyoursoul; @tasteofswallowedwords; @velvetacex; @ri-verdale; @ourlazydetectivekitten; @wearelondonbound; @jackyfrost01; @rhyxn; @butterybra; @sour-kangaroo1998; @jj-trickster; @realfanssavingbands; @victoria-luise; @fionnfionn-love; @laa-rose; @thevioletmarkey; @jvghead-jones-iii;

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Classic GT Round 6 - 20th September 2017

The concluding race night of Round 6 was held on a very wet night with high humidity. It had a noticeable effect on the track, with conditions changing noticeably from the start of the evening to the last heat. Scuderia Birchmore were back to full strength, Russel returned after missing last week and Keith popped in as he was in the vicinity. Good to see you all again folks.

Lots of changes to cars during practice, with about half the drivers not qualifying with the car they had intended to race. Keith picked this weeks lane, selecting yellow in the blind pick. So off we jolly well went, giving it our all in yellow.  Team Jones had brought an Android tablet, so we were able to have lap times called out from Race Coordinator. There is a bit of an issue that needs investigating, it won’t call the last lap of qualifying heat. Good fun though, and we will have one pad per lane available very soon, so drivers can put on headphones and have their laptimes announced to them as they race. As if we don’t look daft enough on the racing stations as it is ;o)

Quali ran in yellow tonight, with the Lolas filling the top 3 slots. Steve was a third of a second in front of Alan, with Keith getting the first P68 in half a second behind Alan. Russ was next with the last two P68s split by a gnats chuff, Seb edging Martyn out for 6th by 3 thousandths of a second!!!!! Mmm, close stuff lads! Lee followed up with his best quali time to date, so he was tickled pink too.

Heat 1 saw Martyn go flag to flag with a reasonably uneventful race in Red, the highlight of which was getting collected twice in other peoples incidents. Meanwhile, Lee got a flyer in Yellow managing to avoid any first lap tangles, and held on to 2nd place gallantly for the first five laps. Seb recovered well in Green, with Russ doing likewise in Blue, with both getting past Lee to take 2nd and 3rd slots. Then things started to get interesting for Russ. His SCP-2 started to display the odd behaviour we have seen previously. The car would not come off the throttle when the trigger was released. It made for some fairly hefty wallops as the car tried to go round the bends at full chat. This has plagued Russ a few times of late – more news of this when we have our cuppa soon, so bare with….. On L18, Russ had to swap throttles. Martyn had thoughtfully draped his jacket across the spare we keep on the driver’s stations, so that delayed things for a moment or two (sorry Russ), but service was resumed and Russ got on with resurrecting his race evening. All the while, Seb and Lee had got their heads down, finishing the heat in 2nd and 3rd.   So a quick fettle of the throttle was needed, with Russ looking at the trigger bearings, trying to take any float out of the mechanism. And H3 begins – Martyn in Yellow and Seb in Red got good starts and enjoyed these two faster lanes, managing to open out a bit of a lead and chasing each other for the thirty laps. Lee was in Blue, and after lots of coaching from the guys got in a fairly decent run, delighting himself by getting sub 10s in this slowest long (well, longest, actually) and having a pretty good run. Russ in Green was getting some good laps in, though the throttle started misbehaving again, requiring a change to standby throttle once more. Understandably, the lad was getting a bit hacked off by now. The heat finished Martyn-Seb-Lee-Russ and the kettles were switched on ready for break. The other guys had a heat run to left, but as soon as that was over, out came the screws on the SCP2.  After much examining and adjusting, Russ’ “eureka” moment arrived. During his explanation to several members about the issues he was experiencing, Russ started to explain how the magnets interact with the hall sensor to control the throttle position. Specifically Russ was explaining why he had to let go of the trigger and unplug/replug the throttle to ensure it was calibrated after each on track problem he experienced. At this point Russ got to the bottom of his woes – he could see one of the throttle magnets was a little bit loose in the Y-shaped carrier connected to the trigger. Obviously any movement here was going to give a false reading and remap the throttle as he was driving. This explained perfectly the symptoms he had suffered. Where’s the bloody glue?????? H3 had also seen Martyn and Seb see a few issues, both requiring a fettle. Martyn was experiencing momentary cut outs whilst cornering on certain tight bends, so got the top off and look at motor cables and braids. Nothing obvious, so a tidy up was performed.

Back to racing – H5 – I think Seb enjoyed this heat. He was going like billy-oh in Yellow and didn’t get trouble by the others until after he had stopped! Lee enjoyed Green almost as much as Seb did Yellow – he got his fastest lap to date, edging to sub 9 with a 9.096 – much encouragement and shouting from his fellow racers and the marshalls encouraging to break the barrier. So close, but not just yet……. Meanwhile, Martyn’s Blue started well and got worse, whereas Russ’ Red started badly and got better! Martyn was suffering more and more power cuts as the heat progressed. As the power cut back in it would spit him off. This was a costly problem, as he probably lost 4th overall in this heat L  Russ meanwhile had a torrid first few laps, then realised the problem – during the fixing, his brakes had been knocked off. A quick fiddle with his knob and BOOM, Russ was back to top form, really enjoying his drive to second in the latter half of this heat. So to the last heat for this bunch – I think Martyn was enjoying his newly fitted braids (in between heats 5 and 7) as his flag to flag was reasonably comfortable. Russ in Yellow had a good dice for the opening 8 laps with Seb in Blue, but once he got comfortable, he put the hammer down and had a great latter 3/4s of the heat and took a well driven 2nd. What a relief that the throttle woes of late were now resolved. Seb I then mixed it up with Lee for a few laps, eventually pulling away for a comfortable 3rd place. But what about Lee? A couple of 9.0s in Red had the crowd cheering and egging him on, then on lap 18, to rapturous cheering and raucous cat-calls, he got below 9s for the first time in a race. Great stuff and a psychological boost for our newest racer.

In H2, being such a friendly club, we let our long travelled visitor Keith scamper away in Yellow – what a nice bunch! Well that’s not strictly true, he was going the clappers and Craig in Blue and Steve in Green were chasing him hard. Alan had a fumble in Red on the first few laps, but as soon as he got it dialled in he joined the fun and had some fast laps dicing with the rest. Steve got past Craig on lap 2 to take 2nd, where Steve stayed to the end. Craig meanwhile was having a great scrap with Alan. They were both travelling at about the same speed, Alan getting the advantage by Red being a bit shorter. Nevertheless, the pace was blistering with Alan holding his nerve to take a well-earned third. H4 had the odd place change – please try to keep up – I may get confused myself explaining this lot. Alan (Y) shot off the line in the lead, closely followed by Craig (G) then Steve ® and Keith (. Then it all went a bit bonkers. Alan took a tumble on lap 3, going from hero to zero, so everyone stepped up a place. An 8.1 followed by 5 consecutive 8.0s saw him claw his way back to second, only to slip up 2 laps later and loose a place. One lap later he got his place back, and set off after Steve. Steve was on good form, so it was a tantalising 2 second gap, opening up on the faster corneres and concertinaing back as Steve entered the slower corners. Meanwhile, Craig was starting to breath down Alan’s neck, with the same yo-yo effect, only a lot closer to Alan. This went on to the end with some furious concentration up on the drivers rostrum. At the flag, there was plenty of “Phews” and back-slapping -  very entertaining heat.  I think we should have given them all a cup of camomile to cool their heels!  After refreshments, Steve (Y) led Craig (G) off, with Keith (G) not far behind and Alan ( bringing up the rear. A scorchio second lap got Craig to the front, but a hiccup on L3 let dad get back in to the lead. It also allowed Keith to jump up to second. Battle royale then ensued between Craig and Keith for the rest of the heat (leaving Steve in peace out front). The guys swapped places three more times, Craig eventually coming out on top. So the last run of the night had Craig going for Gold in (yes, you guessed, Yellow), with every lap bar 1 and 22 being sub 8s. Alan and Keith (Green and Red) enjoyed a good scrap for the first dozen laps, with Keith opening a gap as Alan had a few offs. This allowed Steve to nip into third, with the heat ending up Craig, Keith, Steve, Alan.  So the scores were totted up, and a poor Blue by Martyn and Green by Alan meant there was interest between 4th and 5th, but Martyn’s bad heat was far worse than Alan’s by about 10 seconds, so Alan got the place.

The podium picture shows Alan hovering just off the step, this due to Keith being a guest and Alan having not raced for a few weeks, it would be decent to get him in on the glory!

Round 7 starts next week, so polish off your LMPs.

Did I mention Lee got a PB?