#either way I’m going to smoke all summer it’s gonna be weed and sweat and fresh fruit and laying in my room during all of my days off and it

[saintblk]

*ೃ— INDULGENCE | ROY HARPER + KALDUR’AHM

warnings: foul language, drug and alcohol use, mfm intercourse, dubcon (reader is drunk + nonconsensual creampie), threesome, p in v, double penetration, manipulation of you squint, unprotected sex (use protection pls!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, use of pet names (all gender neutral), roy x kaldur (established relationship), college au — gender neutral afab reader, considered to be black + thick

word count: 3.9k

note: RAH ITS FINALLY OUT. i been wanting to finish this for sooooo long:0 if there are any pronouns please don’t hesitate to let me know ! i proofread like three times but there is a chance that i may have missed something. lmk what you think! i might do a poly drabble/series if ppl really like it🙈i think this was more for me than anyone else but enjoy;3

had to repost cause it wouldn't show up in tags the first time:(

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

YOU WERE OUT of your element — that much you knew. in your three and a half years of college, never had you been invited to a frat party and it seemed convincing yourself you weren’t missing out on much finally paid off. because you truly could not see the appeal of the environment before you. it was hot–no, humid. the entire house stunk of sweat, alcohol, weed, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. the air was charged with hormones and filled with so much smoke you weren’t sure how there was enough oxygen. not to mention, the amount of times you nearly threw caution to the wind to fight the third guy who used the tight space as a reason to grope you.

it had to be a lie when people talked about how fun and crazy a party was. a ruse to rope other people in to make a big house feel like a small, stuffy room. the reason for your attendance that night and your very best friend was donning a screwface that went quite well with her dark red dress as her gaze stayed attached to the man who’d invited her. he had one hand wrapped around a bottle of beer, and the other around the neck of the girl he was sucking face with.

“i told you, he’s not serious about you.” you tried to reason with her over the loud music. “let’s just split and you can forget about him-”

“fuck that. i’m gonna stay and show him exactly what he’s missing out on,” she decided before eyeing the crowd of people. “you can chill, grab a drink or something.”

rolling your eyes, you make your way to the drink table and find mini bottles of tequila. packing several of the untouched bottles into your shoulder bag, you make your way to the more quiet, mellow staircase. finals had just ended; a reason for this raucous soiree, though you much rather spend the night and every night over the summer break locked up in your room, binging trash reality tv shows. you supposed you couldn’t expect everyone to be like you, to not want to spend their night trying to get around multiple people all standing in the same hot room, acting on impulsive desires and liquid courage.

you blew a raspberry and scanned the room once again, catching sight of your friend grinding on a man you hadn’t seen before, and you were sure she hadn’t either. certain you were going to have to keep an eye on her so she didn’t get into anything potentially dangerous, you leaned your head against the nearest wall and got comfortable. eventually, you’re joined by a couple who decided the steps behind you were as good as the privacy of a bedroom. you could hear the man whispering empty promises to his female companion. how he was serious about her and only her, with each one of her complaints shushed so he could continue his inebriated ramblings. after downing three shots and placing the empty bottles on the floor beside you, escape came in the form of the 6’3 hunk who happened to be in your poli-sci class. kaldur’ahm smiled warmly at you, taking note of the exhausted look on your face.

“are you enjoying yourself?” he asks anyway, standing in front of you so as to not block the staircase.

with a scoff, you look down at your perfectly manicured toes in a pair of heels you couldn’t help but think were being wasted on this event. it wasn’t as though you could ever look kaldur in the eyes anyway. kind soul that he was, he still managed to intimidate you with his build and height, and the only time you could appreciate his god-given looks were from afar when he wasn’t looking at you.

“i’d literally rather be anywhere else…” you drawl while fishing another nip of tequila out of your bag.

though you can’t see it, too busy avoiding his gaze, he feels bad. despite living in the very house, he could never really keep his friends from throwing insanely wild parties that always ran too long.

“would you like to join me upstairs? roy thinks it’s quieter there but i don’t think there’s a difference.”

a smile comes over your face, and without meaning to, you let your eyes flick up towards his. when he offers his hand you don’t see a reason why you shouldn’t take it until you catch sight of your friend, pressed up against the guy she was so ready to swear off not even an hour earlier. you open your mouth to argue that you should keep an eye on her only for her attention to shift for a moment towards you. the thumbs up she gives you is encouragement enough, and you keep yourself from rolling your eyes when you place your hand in kaldur’s.

he guides you through the bodies littered up the staircase and standing around the rooms none of the guests were allowed to go in. his skin is warm and surprisingly soft and you inwardly swoon when he squeezes your hand. you find that the once booming music becomes a low thump on the walls, matching the bass when he leads you into his room. still loud, but not enough to egg on the headache plaguing you. sure enough, roy greets you with one of his lopsided smirks while he busies himself with rolling a fat blunt. the involuntarily bashful smile you respond with reminds him of the reason why you’re really there and why kaldur had gone downstairs in the first place.

“hey pretty,” he greets with a quick once over of your figure. “you look like you been drinkin’.”

you shake your head and fiddle with your fingers, anxious under his gaze while he lights his blunt. “m-mm, i’m fine.”

“do you have to smoke in here?” kaldur griped as he approached the redhead.

“what, you gonna be mean to me in front of company?” roy shot back smoothly. “i’ll even let you take the first hit since you clearly need to relax.”

kaldur waves him off and bats away the hand that reaches towards his waist as he walks towards the couch on the other end of the room. you take the seat beside him and take out your phone to let your friend know where you are and to call when she’s ready to leave.

“be careful,” you hear roy warn. “kal gets pouty when he’s tired.”

“i’m not tired and i don’t get pouty,” he bites out much to your amusement.

“no? you weren’t just being fussy about wanting me to get ready for bed?”

fed up, kaldur simply sinks in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. while thinking about how adorable their dynamic was, you notice roy’s gaze lingering on you again. it was no secret that he was just as attractive as kaldur and when the fact began dawning on you is when you began reconsidering your presence in their bedroom.

“you don’t look too happy yourself.” he gets up and plops down on the other side of you. “what’s got you down, sugar?”

your lips twist as you recount your night up until then. somehow, you suppose under the influence of alcohol, you don’t seem to notice or care how close the two men have gotten. roy’s arm found its way on the back of the couch and kaldur was sitting close enough for his knees to be knocking against your own. the cannabis from roy and the sweet vanilla just barely filling your nose from kaldur give you a heady feeling, the mixture of their scents nearly as intoxicating as the liquor in your system. somehow it’s just as hot as it was downstairs and your heart is starting to thump erratically in your chest.

“your friend is an asshole-”

“don’t say that.” you chide just before emptying another bottle. “she just really likes this guy.”

“she abandoned you,” kaldur joins.

at the thought, your shoulders slump and your eyes get just a little glazed. with a maudlin mind, you can’t help but consider their words ringing true. did she really care about you? about the fact that you were extremely uncomfortable at parties? social butterfly that she was, couldn’t she have taken one of her other, far outgoing friends? you sniffle a little, overemotional and perhaps a lot more drunk than you thought you were. but they’re both there to place strong hands on your thighs in consolation; squeezing and rubbing maybe a little too close to your hips, you’re too far gone to care. perhaps part of you knew what they were up to, how sleazy they both really were. but to have been wanted by two very hot guys at the same time was a bit uplifting in the moment. you turn to roy first who moves your braids back over your shoulder.

“y’know, we can make you feel better.” he husks and caresses your cheek.

you can feel kaldur’s breath fanning against your ear now as he hums an agreement. it sends goosebumps down your arms and an insatiable fire up your spine. a soft, breathy moan slips past you, encouraging him to press his lips against your throat and draw out more of your saccharine sounds. the upturn of roy’s lips against the corner of your own is what makes you close your eyes in anticipation. your eyebrows are furrowed and your hand is clutching desperately to his shirt, he’s sure there’ll be strains and wrinkles on the fabric. but he thinks it’s all worth it to see you practically on the edge of tears for a single kiss. when he finally does kiss you, it’s a quick, soft peck that forces a whine to erupt from you.

kaldur rolls his eyes at the sight, “stop toying with her. give her what she wants.”

“nuh-uh,” he snickers. “not until she asks for it. tell me what you want, y/n.”

“w-want you to kiss me,” you gasp when he nips at your jawline teasingly. “plea-please, roy.”

“so well-mannered,” he hums sarcastically. “think you should be rewarded for that?”

you nod frantically, just as he wraps a hand around your throat. you watch him wet his lips, following the movement of his tongue before he starts to pull you closer. roy kisses you once, then again, and finally presses the fervent kiss you so richly deserve on your waiting lips. you moan approvingly as you lean into him. all the while, kaldur’s exploring hands dance towards the jewel between your thighs. unconsciously, you spread your legs further and further until he has his hand up your dress, palm pressed up against and cupping your heated center. your moans are muffled through roy’s mouth, as you buck your hips to feel something, anything.

“so needy…i’m willing to bet you haven’t been touched in so long.” kaldur husks, slipping a finger past your damp panties to rub your throbbing clit.

a choked mewl fills the room as delirium begins to seep into your brain. he lets you grind against his fingers, frenzied and fiending for release. roy pulls away from your lips in time for kaldur to slide two fingers into your sopping cunt. the both of them relish in the sounds they’re drawing out from you while they work on marking up your neck. your senses go into overload when another set of fingers begin rubbing on your clit again. between the tongues dancing on the skin of your neck, clashing with one another every so often, and the assault on your lower lips, you’re being driven crazy by the two men.

your climax arrives like a wave crashing against your body, incapacitating you and forcing your every thought to be nothing but fuzz and static. the party has long since flitted from your worries; it’s simply you and two people who want you more than anything in that moment. the garble of nonsense you spew makes roy chuckle as he plants hot kisses up your jaw. kaldur is still going with slower strokes despite the way you burst on his fingers.

“look at the mess you made,” he breaths and pulls his fingers into your view. they’re coated in your essence, though neither of them seem to mind when roy tugs his hand towards his mouth.

you watch with glossed eyes, filled with arousal as he licks kaldur’s fingers clean. the lewd act has you clenching your thighs together to sooth the returning ache between them, only garnering kaldur’s attention once again. with a hum, he cups your chin with the hand covered in a light sheen of saliva and turns you towards him.

“was that not enough?” he inquires, gazing deep into your eyes and you can’t find it in you to look away. “do you want more, angel?”

all you can do is nod before leaning up for a kiss. his lips are soft and sweet and make you feel like you’re floating in the air. while kaldur’s tongue delves into your mouth, roy is helping shift you on the couch. you let them move your body as though you were nothing but their plaything, and soon enough you’re seated in kaldur’s lap with your back pressed against his broad chest and your legs spread. with your head twisted to continue locking lips with him, you don’t notice roy kneel on the floor in front of you until his hands come in contact with your thighs again.

simultaneously, kaldur’s hands flit from your waist up to your chest. tugging the straps of your dress down and allowing it to pool at your waist, he cups both your braless mounds and begins to massage them. your panties are removed next, abandoned somewhere behind roy. both you and kaldur pull away to watch roy press hot, open mouth kisses on his way up to your pearl. his hair tickles the skin near your knee but that’s soon forgotten when his lips come in contact with your labia. your mouth falls open with a sharp gasp, and for a moment roy considers drawing this out. but just the sight of you, in his boyfriend’s arms, pretty, and waiting and so very patient, he doesn’t think he could deny you of what you want any longer.

his tongue laps vigorously at your clit, only moving down to fuck your hole every so often. he groans at the taste of you, determined to make you cum again so he could share the taste with kaldur. your mind struggles to focus between the pair’s actions, only to allow pleasure to take over and blanket your senses. while roy indulges in your soaking cunt, kaldur pulls your head back so take your lips into his own.

you moan into his mouth with each of roy’s actions but kaldur doesn’t mind. he swallows your lewd noises, snaking his tongue past your teeth and seeking out your own pink muscle. calloused fingers tweak and twist your nipples before one hand begins to slide downwards. with your ankles locked behind roy’s head, the ginger struggled to feast the way he intended to. that was the case until kaldur spread your pussy lips for him, giving him full access to every part of you.

when your second climax approached, roy didn’t bother slowing down. he nipped and sucked on your clit relentlessly, watching with gleaming eyes as you were overcome with an earth shattering orgasm. you shook and thrashed in kaldur’s arms, whining as roy continued to abuse your overstimulated parts.

only when he needed to breath did roy come up from between your thighs. reaching up past you, he cupped the back of kaldur’s head and pulled him down. you watched hazily as the two met for a sloppy kiss. the taste of you on roy’s tongue found its way onto kaldur’s taste buds. he groaned, deep and low before delving his tongue into roy’s mouth.

“taste so good,” kaldur mumbled before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“think you’re ready for more?” roy inquired as he gets up and rids himself of the white marina he’s wearing. you nod dazedly much to his disappointment. “use your words, pretty.”

“yes, wan’ more.” you blurt, “please gimme more.”

kaldur leans into your ear, lips brushing against the cartilage. “get on your hands and knees, angel.”

you do as he says without hesitation. before long you find yourself looking up at an equally naked kaldur while roy, who also stripped himself of the rest of his clothes, inspected your backside. a wad of spit fell from his mouth onto your swollen sex and his hand followed to spread his saliva. just as a moan fell from your mouth, you felt something prod against your bottom lip. looking up, you noticed kaldur easing his girth into your mouth. quickly, you began to suckle on his tip before he continued pushing into your mouth. he filled every crevice, pushing past your uvula and hitting the back of your throat.

“you can take us both, can’t you?” he asks, so soft you can’t bring yourself to do anything but hum an agreement.

as if on cue, roy’s thick mushroom head eased it’s way into your cunt. he parted your gummy walls, suppressing the noises building up in the back of his throat. your walls were quivering and warm and sucked him in like you wanted him to stay inside you forever.

“fuck…” he grunted, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. “f-fuck baby you’re so tigh-tight.”

incapable of replying, all you could do was let your eyes roll back and take both men. ecstasy enveloped all three of you, encouraging you to chase the high you all desperately craved.

so when roy’s hips began to stutter and his movements slowed down, you took it upon yourself to fuck him back. it only proved to help when kaldur found purchase on your braids and began thrusting into your mouth. the recoil from his movements were strong enough to help you send your backside into roy’s hips.

“bein’ so good.” kaldur grunted over you only to pull himself out of your mouth. “but i need you to look at me, angel.”

while he slapped himself against your lips, you managed to drag your eyes back up at him. the pleased hum he let out only sent you further into an oblivion you didn’t want to find your way out of. the simple thought of being able to satisfy both men seemed to take you to rapture and beyond.

with kaldur in your throat, all that told of your orgasm was the garbled noises you made around him and the way you clasped around roy. he groaned as you gushed around him, soaking the both of your thighs and the couch underneath you.

“already?” he snarked, pulling out as kaldur’s movements slowed. “what d’ya think kal — should we give y/n a break?”

“not yet; not until i get to be inside them.”

sea green eyes bore into your’s, making the depth of your abdomen twist with need. the hand that held your braids slid down to caress your face and ran a thumb over your bottom lip.

“you’ll let me do that, won’t you angel?”

an eager nod soon has you trapped between two large bodies, incapable of remembering what exactly led up to this. with kaldur below you, holding your legs open, he pushed into you until he was bottoming out. roy, who stood before you, took a step closer and placed his tip against kaldur’s shaft. the red headed man slowly worked himself into you.

“w-wait, i can’t–” you squealed once it dawned on you what roy was attempting, and proceeded, to do. “s’too much!”

“‘course you can, baby.” he grinned down at you. “y’said you could.”

the stretch came with a slight burn since your body had never experienced any of this before. your innocence was what previously kept you from indulging in desire, and what now allowed you to welcome it all the same.

you could barely breath as they lay inside you, granting you the chance to get used to the feeling. surprisingly, disregarding all the patience he possessed, kaldur was the first to move. with an unrelenting grip on your thick thighs, he thrust upwards, eliciting a groan from roy and a gasp from you. roy was quickly following suit, he and kaldur both eager to please you and one another.

you were soon reduced to a mess of nonsensical noises and high pitched whines. every touch sent a wave of heat through your body; it was too much and not enough all at once. sweet release came and left and came again, but it did not stop both men from fucking you like they were possessed. in that moment you were nothing but an object to them; a hole for them to use that happened to have a pretty face. and you were treated as such.

you had past the point of fucked dumb, incapable of doing anything but wailing from the growing intensity of every orgasm that followed. tears danced down your cheeks and attempting to form the simplest thought was fruitless. all that remained in your mind was the everlasting feeling of lust and gratification.

trapped in hedonism, both your companions increased their relentless pace. each of them were far too occupied chasing their own highs to worry about you. roy, who had wrapped a hand around your neck, kept his eyes closed as he approached release. meanwhile, kaldur nipped and sucked on your neck while thrusting into you from below. his grunts and deep groans reverberated against your skin, eventually filling your head along with roy’s guttural sounds.

“taking us so well,” kaldur praised in your ear. “ we should keep you around, huh? you want that angel?”

after receiving nothing but whines and moans in response, kaldur canted his hips and ground himself up into you. you shrieked in ecstasy, gushing around both men for the nth time. the only difference however was the feeling of roy pulsing against both you and kaldur.

the latter shifted his attention to the red head, “make them ours roy. cum in–”

your protests cut him off and came in the form of incomprehensible babbles that made it all the more easier to ignore. leaking from his tip, roy thrust inside once more and emptied his load inside you. kaldur was prompted to do the same, biting down on the nape of your neck as he finished off with one final stroke.

even when they pulled out, you still felt filled to the brim. the cum slowly seeping out of you was testament to that feeling. the two men who had just finished rearranging your insides stood over you, looking down at their work. their sexual magnum opus lay on their couch, breathing heavily and still attempting to come down from several orgasms.

kaldur took it upon himself to get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes while roy returned to smoking his blunt.

“should we drive them home?” he inquired, watching kaldur gently wipe the tears off your face. “or were you serious about keeping them around?”

“have you ever known me to joke about anything, roy?”

chuckling, roy took one final drag from his blunt and proceeded to join them in bed after putting it out. you soon find yourself pressed between their bodies once more. this time it’s in an embrace that warms your aching muscles as you surrender to lethargy.

2023 ©️ all rights reserved by saintblk (me) | do not copy, repost, promote, or translate any of my works without my permission

#roy harper x reader #kaldur x reader #young justice x reader #young justice smut #kaldur smut #roy harper smut #kaldur x black reader #roy harper x black reader #collection :: yj #꒰ slim’s works ꒱

[kovuthebean]

New roots

A/n: this if my first time writing a fanfic in almost two years so it may not be the best, I do plan on writing another part to this story line!!

Summery: After spending a summer with your cousins you decide to move to California because you couldn’t get one person out of your head.

Tw: none really, fluff, mentions of smoking weed, swearing

Paring: fezco x reader

Proof read by @basebalgirl70

There’s nothing like Cali in a heat wave. Outside was a sweltering 105 degrees, and inside the shitty apartment you rented- with a busted ac- it was only a few degrees cooler.

“I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat.” Announced Rue as she entered the living room.

"Eeeewww.” You and Jules groan out at the same time.

“what you’re telling me you haven’t found a new sweat-“

"RUE PLEASE STOP!” You yelled over her as you clamped your hands down on your ears. She just laughed as she laid down on the floor. “You know times like this make me want to move back to-“

The girl next to you cut you off. “Don’t even finish that sentence," she laughed. "You hate the cold and you know it. Plus wasn’t it your idea to move out here in the first place?”

She was right it was.

With Cassie and Lexi being your cousins, you had spent one summer at their house. Cassie dragged you and Lexi to all sorts of parties during your stay, where you meet someone. Someone that you haven’t been able to get out of your mind since that summer.

Fezco

You spent almost everyday in the shop or at fez and ash’s place, and everyday was filled with belly aching laughter, passing countless blunts between you two (shit fez even taught you how to properly roll a joint), and watching all the old movies you could get your hands on. And if you weren’t mistaken it seemed like the kid was warming up to you. At first you thought it was just a little summer crush, nothing mutual, but once you got back home and the ache in your chest grew more and more, it was hard to deny. You two talking everyday despite the time difference didnt help either.

Fez was the first to suggest you moving out to Cali after graduating. You were baffled at the thought, terrified you told him. He was quick to soothe your worries, "you can stay here till you get on your feet ma."

So after months of planning and finally setting it in motion, here you were thousands of miles away from your home state. A small group of friends well established and Fez behind you every step of the way. It was great... except for the weather.

"Well it’s too hot to do anything except smoke some weed.” You sat up getting ready to roll a joint.

"We’re out.” Jules mumbled from her sprawled out position on the couch.

"Well you know what that means.” You stand up, walking over to the front door. "Time to go bother fez and pretzel boy, you comin?” you ask with a jiggle of your keys. Jules huffed as she got up, mumbling a yes as she helped Rue up.

—————————

Pulling up to the small store, you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies in your stomach. You put the car in park as Rue looked at you. She knew you better than anyone, it was like she could read your mind. "If you don’t tell him you like him, I’m gonna tell Lexi to take him.”

You looked at her and feigned offense, putting a hand over your chest. “How dare you, I don’t even know if he feels the same ab-“

"Bullshit” Rue interrupted. “I see the way he looks at you, everyone does. And to be honest you are the only other girl I think I’ve ever seen him hold a conversation with. Stop selling yourself short man.”

Rue really did want to see you get with fez. She was the first to know about your crush on him after all. It was obvious, and so was his on you. Plus with Rue and Jules dating, she felt bad making you third wheel when they would hang out, or when they did couples shit around your apartment. To make things even better you didn’t exactly have the biggest friend group. Sure you had Lexi and Cassie, Fez, Rue and Jules but they had their own lives. You weren't into the party scene as much as they were, so you spent most of your time with Fezco and Ash.

Jules reached over and ruffled your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts. You offer her a small smile, which she returns.

You three got out of the car and made your way into the shop. Ash was behind the counter today. "What the hell, what do fuckers want now.”

“Where’s Fez at, pretzel boy?” You ask, scanning the coolers.

"Man, I told you to stop callin me that!” Ash exclaimed.

"Oh hey ma." The nickname he gave you made your knees weak every time he said it. “I didn’t hear y’all come in.” Fez came out of one of the cooler doors that lead to the back rooms. “Whatcha need?”

“I’m going to stand in your cooler, it's too fuckin hot to be out here.” Rue didn’t wait for a response, opening the door and stepping in. “That sounds fun.” Jules said following close behind her.

“Oh uhh, I need my jazz- just the usual.” You stutter out.

"Yo ash could you go get the fine lady her products.” Fez gestured to the door he came from with his eye. The boy spared a narrow glance between the two of you then exited the room. "So, you officially moved in huh?” He perched himself on top of the counter.

“Yeah it’s official. We signed a lease and everything.” You said with a chuckle. “I’m adulting and it’s terrifying.”

This time earning a chuckle out of him, "Ma your doing great, and if you ever need help you know I’m here fo you.” A bashful smile playing on his lips.

You start looking around the shelves near the register as an excuse to get closer to him, is it weird to say you missed how he smelled? Sweet and deep rich cologne mixed with the smell of weed, you couldn’t get enough of it.

"So how’s the boy doing? I missed bugging him.” You look at Fez who let out a light laugh. "Don't tell him I told you, but he missed havin' you around. He asked me bout a dozen times when you were movin in.” The smile he gave now was a big toothy grin.

“Well since I moved in and everything is done, maybe we can start hanging out again? I’ve got a new movie list I need to get through.” You say putting some candy bars on the counter.

"Any time, ma. You know my place is as good as yours, and I miss havin you close on the couch.” You blush at his statement, looking at the counter to avoid eye contact.

Ash exited the cooler letting the door slam shut, making you jump a little. “Here’s your shit.” Ash said plopping a brown bag on the counter.

"Thanks little man. Oh, I brought something back for you as promised.” You reach into your back pocket, extending your closed fist towards him before opening to relieve a stone- A Petoskey stone.

"YO!! Dude you actually remembered that!” The boys eyes lit up as he took the stone from you examining it.

“How could I forget! You went on and on for days about how I had to come back and bring you a Petoskey stone.” You couldn't help but recall watching National Geographic with Ash the first time you “babysat” him. You told him you could get one on the beach in your state. He never let it go. You laughed slightly at the memory.

“You ready to go?” Jules said as she walked out of the cooler, a few new marks on her neck. She passed on her way to the car, Rue in tow with a sly smirk on her face.

You chuckle, “Uh o-okay, how much do I owe you fezzy?” The nickname was second nature to you.

“Uh just give me $20 and come by later tonight after we close up.” He said as he bagged your items.

"Sir yes sir.” You chuckled as you walked out and made your way to the car. An ear to ear smile on your face as you got in. "Soooo?” Jules drawled out as you start the car.

"I’m going over there tonight.” You laughed a rush of giddiness wash over you.

"THATS WHAT I’M TALKIN ABOUT BABYYYY.” Rue yelled from the back seat, her and Jules erupting into cheers, wasting no time in punching the ceiling. You laugh, telling them to calm down as you pull off. Counting down the minutes till you can drive back.

Pt.2!!!^

#euphoria #fezco fluff #fezco x reader #fezco x y/n #euphoria fanfic #rue bennett #jules vaughn #fez x reader #fez x y/n

[evak-fic-rec-turtleanon]

Evak Fics - Pining

I’m posting half of this list first because I started it a long time ago and it’s taking me a while to go through all the fics. So I will update with more later. 

*** Mutual Pining *** Pining - I might put mutual pining under pining if we don't see much of the other person pining. *** Bonus - The pining is not between Evak 

For the anon from this ask.

I will try my best to separate out the mutual pining fics but I think it will be tricky if it's not tagged as that. So bear with me and let me know of any mistakes or fics I missed out on.

. First Posting : 11 July 2021. Under 15k fics.  .

******* Mutual Pining *******

Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES, 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination.

Postcards by HedwigsTalons (1k words) - Isak's wall is covered in postcards. Isak is supportive of Even's career and he cherishes every postcard but the long distance relationship hurts.

Feelings Come and Go, But Not With You by ultimatelawrence (1.9k words) - It was meant to just be a holiday romance. A fling. Nothing like love. But now it was six months later and Even was still pining over the angel he had met in Paris.

let's pretend into forever by Bellakitse (2.3k words) - “Let me get this straight,” Even starts. “You lied to your boss about having a boyfriend, told her it was me, and now you need me to go with you to your science nerd dinner?”

i will love you until the very, very end (and you were my best friend) by traumatic (2.4k words) - Isak and Even share something in the cool waters of a spring fed pool that no one, not even their fiancées, could ever understand.

Breathe Me by photographer_of_thoughts (4.5k words) - A high school reunion brings Isak and Even together after ten years, and neither of them can forget what happened when they were both seventeen.

Everything comes back to you by MermaidsandMermen (4.8k words) - Light pining. A dribble oneshot for Halloween, full of fluff and Even and Isak and a tiny pinch of angst. Because we need some Halloween fluff. That's all.

Fuck Tha Police by MacksDramaticShenanigans (5.2k words) - “This,” Eskild said, spinning the photograph around so everyone could see it, “is a picture of the latest piece of vandalism from our favorite little street punk.” he finished with a heavy sigh. They are both cops.

i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) (6.3k words) - Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they're both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together.

all I see is you by littlemovie (Lejla) (7.4k words) - “Aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m a bad person?” Isak somehow whined and demanded at the same time. Jonas blew out a breath in amusement, which made the dark curls on his forehead move with his breath. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that guy, Even, from the coffeeshop?”

Addicted by endlessandinfinite (8k words) - They’re both completely, overwhelmingly, and incredibly...addicted. Best friends to lovers.

Calleth You, Cometh I by Kollakolan (8.4k words) - “Isak!” Mikaels pipes up. “Didn´t you two have a thing?” he turns to Even. A thing, Even thinks to himself. Yes, Isak and him definitely had a thing. They actually had a low-key thing going for years, but it never really turned into something more. The timing was never right.

In Vino Veritas by Sabeley (9.9k words) - After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.

Let Me by GayaIsANerd (10.6k words) - Summer brings a lot of things. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of children playing in the shallow part of the lake. The taste of cold beer. The sweet tang of weed. But most importantly, summer brings Isak.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by BluebeardsWife (10.8k words) - Fake dating AU, you know the drill. Even hires Isak to pretend to be his boyfriend at his ex's wedding. This Means Nothing to Me by cuteandtwisted (10.8k words) - Isak and Even are friends and roommates who don't believe in love anymore (after they both get dumped by other people) until they do. Aka the Friends/Roommates-To-Lovers Don't you let me go by solarpower21 (12.2k words) - In this universe, Isak and Even are roomates and nothing more. Except that there is something more between them and they both know that but are too stubborn to admit it. Too bad it takes a very unfortunate event for them to face the truth. Burn Down The Disco by TheGirlNoOneKnows5 (12.2k words) - A 'Black Mirror: Hang The DJ' AU in which Isak and Even decide to rebel against a futuristic dating system that pairs users up with various people in order to find their perfect match.

La Petite Mort by EvenbechNeiheim (13.4k words) - Even Bech Næsheim is one of those cool and very hot media students at Uni who might just got the task to make a film project. Eskild is the best wingman and things like accidently falling in love with an asshole media student happen. Based on the FIRST KISS YouTube video that gave the internet an entire meltdown. 

when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by orphan_account (13.5k words) - Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else. 

Heal My Heart for Christmas by iwritetropesnottragedies (recklesslee) (13.5k words) - It’s been ten years since Isak left his small town for the big city of Oslo with his father. He hardly even thought of his time there anymore. Until he received a letter from his mother asking him to come home for Christmas for the first time since he had left. 

Love in the Time of COVID: Battlestar Edition by sweetasmaple (14k words) - Isak and Even find each other again during the COVID-19 lockdown, one Battlestar Galactica episode at a time. 

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******* Pining *******

never seemed so alive by retts (1k words) - Nothing special, just four letters strung together to spell out E V E N but they made Isak's heart race and his face blush and his hands tremble.

Hopeless by waitineedaname (1k words) - Light pining. There was no way in hell Isak would be able to talk to Even. He was tall and cool and handsome, and Isak was pretty sure talking to him would make him spontaneously combust.

i could probably just curl up in you. by milominderbinder (1.3k words) - Isak is away at a cabin with the guys when he gets a text from Even. 'hey, babe, did you take my favourite hoodie?' He is, of course, outraged that Even would accuse him of such treachery. The fact that Isak is wearing the hoodie at that very moment has nothing to do with it.

stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened (1.8k words) - It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence.

now and forever (i will be your man) by thekardemomme (2.2k words) -Warning for pain. 3 times isak kisses even +1

i be up in the gym just working on my fitness by orphan_account (2.3k words) - Even knows that he's quite literally going to die when he finds his crush sweating on an elliptical, reading a book with his glasses slipping down his nose.

You know where I stay by nofeartina (2.4k words) - Warning for pain. Isak is so beautiful first thing in the morning. When he still has creases in his face from the pillow, when his face is red and puffy from sleep, his hair all messed up and curly. Even prefers this Isak. This is his Isak, this is only for him.

won't you be my livewire by itjustkindahappened (3.2k words) - "i've been tryin to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you're refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it's gone too far and i can't go back"

Cookies and Cream by GayaIsANerd (3.5k words) - Isak has a crush on the barista. He's too scared to do anything about it, but luckily there's a blizzard coming up.

i can feel the weather in my bones by EvenbechNeiheim (3.7k words) - Isak and Even are childhood friends. There’s a boyfriend sweater and Isak is just desperate to wear it.

On the silver screen by Lokkanel (4k words) - Isak was really not in the mood for this. He had a long week at work, and all he wanted was to relax with his friend, drink a few beers, maybe even smoke some weed and just chill. But no. When Jonas called him to say that he won tickets to the coolest indie film festival in Oslo, Isak knew he could forget his plans for a quiet and simple weekend.

I want to love you (in my own language) by fauu_stine (4k words) - “Okay. Maybe I’m not happy,” he admits in a resigned whisper. “Do you need a shrink discussion or a best friend discussion?” "I think- I think it’s more of a friend with benefits kind of talk."

Don't be an ass by Julieseven (4.1k words) - Even really tried to forget about him. It started out as a harmless little crush, really. He saw him at the karaoke bar SYNG one night, singing "I don't want to miss a thing" at the top of his lungs, clearly drunk out of his mind, but looking like an angel with his messy dark blond locks and crooked smile.

Little Black Book by Laika (4.3k words) - Isak Valtersen is studying his third year at the University of Oslo and having the time of his life. Enter Evy Bech Næsheim, straight out of Nissen, in his stockings, mini skirts and bubblegum scented lip gloss.

cracks in our foundation by towonderland72 (4.8k words) - “You know, like a thousand years ago, men used to wear makeup?” Even asks, as Isak gapes at himself.

Safest With You (Green Curtains) by eavk (5.3k words) - Isak keeps staying up too late studying at the library, but luckily there's an escort service that gives students a buddy to walk with to keep safe at night.

the one with the prom video by thekardemomme (5.5k words) - Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way.

Senses by Lokkanel (5.5k words) - Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste… Or Even falling in love with Isak, one sense at a time.

you're the one i wanna grey with (5.6k words) - They've only been dating a month, so Isak shouldn't be pathetic enough to miss Even this much when he's only gone for a weekend.

Orion's Nebula by thekardemomme (5.6k words) - Light pining I think. Even Bech Næsheim was enrolled in an astronomy class for one reason and one reason only: the cute ass boy he saw standing in the registration line.

with the taste of a poison paradise by chasingflower (6k words) - It’s routine by now. Isak hangs out with his friends during the day and at night he kisses the Dream-Even that lives on the other side of the door in his living room, and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention. Coraline Au.

How to Get Your Man - A Plan By Even Bech Naesheim by Evakkk (6.1k words) - When Magnus drops a big secret in front of Even... Even comes up with a brilliant plan to get Isak to reveal his true feelings. All it takes is one little lie, and one crazy family reunion.

To Burn With Desire by photographer_of_thoughts (6.1k words) - AU in which Isak and Even are neighbours and Isak's father has a secret job that unintentionally helps Isak realize he's in love with his best friend.

Watermelon Sugar by MermaidsandMermen (6.6k words) - A little tribute to fruit and touching. To sex, and friendships and finding what you were looking for all along. And of course inspired by Harry Styles latest video offering, just because.

The Fake Boyfriend App by Crazyheart (7.2k words) - AU where Isak is desperately pining for his flatmate Even, and downloads a fake boyfriend app to get over him. When he discovers that the Fake boyfriend is a human, and not a bot, he is sceptical.

That look you give that guy by Lokkanel (7.4k words) - Isak and Even love each other in secret. It is almost thrilling at first, but when hiding and lying to their friends begin to take a toll on Even, Isak decides to end it all. He thinks he has taken the right decision, until Even eventually moves on with someone else.

my longing drives me crazy for you (7.7k words) - Isak's mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. It's a fake dating au.

I'm Always Here by nofeartina (9.3k words) - “Did you know that Even is working this summer? At that pool at the Plaza?” Jonas says. Isak actually sits up in excitement at this. “Fuck yeah!” Oh, a pool. Actual water they could go swimming in and cool down. And also, Even.

a garden for your love by eggsntoast (9.3k words) - He’s learning to breathe with them, even if he ends up with a floor full of violets by the end of it all. They remind Isak of him, and that’s all that matters. That’s what makes it worse. or: a Hanahaki au ft. Isak heavily pining after Even. Lots of angst.

I wrote an angry letter to the void, and the void responded (9.5k words) - Monday comes, and the book is still there. Isak looks around, content to find the floor practically empty, before giving the book the finger. Fuck that book. - a book finds it's way to Isak's sacred study spot. this proves to be a major distraction.

a constant state of closeness by chevythunder (9.7k words) - “What is it about this dude, anyway?” Elias asks. “You’ve barely even talked to him, right?” “I don’t know,” Even says. “I just got this feeling, you know? Just- I want to make sure he’s okay and safe and… stuff.” - It starts with a hug.

Is This Our Time? by Evakkk (9.9k words) - This is a world where everyone is born with an indistinguishable soulmate mark... it only changes into something recognizable, once you have physical contact with your soulmate, and it's always something meaningful to the relationship. Both partners will bear the same mark. Isak is about to turn 18... and he's the only one in his friend group who still hasn't found their soulmate. But what happens when he goes out one night, gets drunk... and wakes up with his soulmate mark?

Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (9.9k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him. Little does he know that everything he thinks he knows about Isak is wrong.

Just like in the movies by Lokkanel (10.5k words) - As he began taking in his surroundings, Isak realized he was in one of those small theaters that programmed independent and artsy movies, even old black and white films. He was ready to turn around and walk away when he heard a deep voice say, “Halla.”

my tiny heartbeat in his ear by riyku (11k words) - Now, about a week after the longest day of the year, the empty house across the street has stopped being empty. most beautiful things by scarletbluebird (12.7k words) - This fic is a whole ass journey. Warning for pain. This isn’t a fairytale, Isak tells himself. Even is standing at the bend in the road. He looks like a metaphor for immortal life: the youth a god would kill for. Ambrosia eyes, the universe trapped in the curve of his mouth. He looks like every warning from his mother about strangers you run into after dark. 

One week by Lokkanel (12.8k words) - This thing going on between Isak and Even, whatever they called it - fuckbuddies, friends with benefits - was simple, fun, nothing more. They were friends, they were both free to do whatever they wanted with other people. They’d just meet and have sex whenever they felt like it. Simple. Until what was bound to happen eventually did and Even fell for Isak. 

Plum by Jamz24 (13.2k words) - Femme!teacher!Even asks masculine! plumber!Isak to fix a broken shower on a scorching hot summer day...And if you think it sounds like the start of a porn film you're absolutely right! There's LOADS of smut but ... with LOTS of feelings 

Never be the same by nofeartina (14.2k words) - It starts with a bet - one of those really stupid ones: can they last an entire month without any kind of sex?It’s been 22 days – and Even is dying. 

Somewhere I’ve never been by MinilocIsland (14.6k words) - The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan. 

If I Should Fall Behind by MinilocIsland (14.7k words) - The plan for tonight had been crystal clear. Stay close to his best friend, and steal her away if needed. Hold her hand through the ordeal of meeting Noora again for the first time in years. Then Even shows up – and suddenly, nothing goes the way it was supposed to. 

All I Ever Wanted by MinilocIsland (14.8k words) - Isak is such a good friend. Probably the best there is. How else could he explain that he's agreed to join Magnus to this place deep in the woods for six full days of silence, meditation, and utter boredom? One thing, he knows. There's nothing exciting for him there. Right? Or: the silent retreat AU. 

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******* Bonus *******

Season 3: Jonas by Laika_the_husband (WIP, SBB 2021 fic) - There is a scene in the end of the script for season 1, where Jonas and Isak kiss each other on a dare. This story is a retelling of season 3 in a universe, where that kiss happened and completely changed the way Jonas sees Isak. Written in Jonas' POV, the story examines sexuality, love, friendship and coming to terms with never getting the boy you shouldn't have fallen for in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me? by notanugget (11.6k words) - The five times isak felt guilty for being in love and the one time he didn’t 

thanks for the weed, thanks for everything by evak1isak (13.1k words) - Jokael. Jonas' dealer has moved to Denmark, and Even recommends his friend's weed. What Jonas didn't expect, though, was to develop a crush on a boy, on Mikael. 

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******* WIP *******

Baby, why do you have to shine so bright? by Lilacpotter - Even knew he was radiant, and he was used to people always wanting to be around him, enchanted by his captivating words and glowing smiles, as if he was the tantalising sun. But then one day, he comes across someone who shines much brighter than the sun itself in Even’s eyes.

Lonely Hearts Club by EndingsNotTheStory - The Hearts Club. A show run by Isak and his 3 friends. He's kind of had enough with hearing about people's relationship issues and giving advice. Until the guy from his theatre class and Isak's totally not crush Even calls, dealing with relationship issues. pining

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #pining #mutual pining #first half of the list #to be updated

[bisexualkiecarrera]

4 times JJ complimented you + 1 time you complimented him

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

wordcount: 3.5k+

warnings: just drinking, smoking and cursing!

1. 

Hanging out in a group of only hot guys and your best friend Kie wasn’t always easy. You loved your friends dearly and normally, any day spent with them was a good one. There were just some days that you just couldn’t bring yourself to have fun when all you could think about was how you looked in your bathing suit. 

You’d explained it to Kiara during a sleepover once when she asked why you hadn’t come in the water that day, opting to stay on the boat in your baggy t-shirt. She didn’t really understand but she tried her best to be helpful whenever she saw you get in your own head after that. John B and Pope were either absolutely oblivious or smart enough to know not to push the subject when you answered their concerned questions with “I’m just a little tired, don’t worry about it.” JJ knew without you ever muttering a word, familiar with the feeling of being uncomfortable showing people your body, even if it was for a completely different reason. 

The day in question was the hottest day of the year so far, and even though you were sitting in the smallest bit of shade the HMS Pogue’s tiny driving console provided, you felt a line of sweat drip down your spine. 

“Babe, come in! Seriously, it’s way too hot for you to not be in the water!” Kiara called as she swam up to the side of the boat, head barely resting on its edge. Your eyes skittered over to the boys, treading water several yards away, but the only one who seemed to be listening to your conversation was JJ. He gave a small encouraging smile before turning back to the two boys splashing each other like children. 

You bit at your lip for a second, mulling over your decision before realizing it really was too hot to stay dry. You mumbled out a “fine” as you went to slip your arms out of your sleeves, “but go back to the boys and I’ll meet you over there.” Kiara gave you a wide smile before pushing off the boat, swimming gracefully back towards the group. 

You shed your shirt quickly and got in the water, trying your hardest to make as small of a splash as possible. You sink your head under the water, wetting your hair as you make your way towards your friends. You take a look at Pope now floating peacefully on his back and make eye contact with a smiling John B. “Hey, little minnow. Nice of you to join us.” You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, leftover from when you were kids. Back before you the world taught you to be self conscious, it was nearly impossible to get you out of the water and back into regular summer clothes, and so your fishy nickname was born.

You wink at JB before swimming quietly towards Pope, who still had his eyes closed as he faced the sky. You get close before stilling for a second, letting the waves settle around you. You lean in towards his ear and let out a “boo!,” sending the boy flailing. The three others laugh off to the side as you and Pope begin a splash fight. Not long after, JB can’t help but join in, followed by Kie. You take this as an opportunity to wade over to JJ, who’s looking at you with pride mixed with something you can’t quite place. “What’s the look for, J?” He takes a second to look over your face again, brow furrowed slightly in confusion. 

He shrugs a little as he answers, meeting your eyes. “You just look really pretty like this, all happy and back in the water.” You feel heat unrelated to the temperature cover your face as your eyes dart back to your friends, Kie now hanging on Pope’s back. 

“You’re just glad there’s finally someone who can beat JB in a race in the water.”

2.

A movie night at the Chateau just isn’t complete without an all-out pig fest, food scattered on every counter and table. Kie is generous enough to supply you all with enough fries from The Wreck to last a lifetime, and Pope brings along some ice cream, but always the cheap kind that his dad is willing to part with. John B mans the grill, making you all hot dogs and cheeseburgers while JJ provides the bud and whatever beer he can steal out of his fridge or convince his cousin to buy for him. Over the years, he’s also claimed the spot as your assistant, hovering over your shoulder as you move around the Chateau’s already cramped kitchen making brownies. 

It’s been years that you’ve been making what you call “kitchen sink” brownies for you and JJ and JB. They appear at every birthday and holiday and whenever someone is especially sad. They’re really just boxed brownies with whatever snacks you can find thrown into the batter, but JJ loves to be the one who gets to crunch up the toppings and sprinkle them, and you figure that the world owes JJ Maybank every second of happiness he can find. Tonight, the search through your kitchen at home proved especially successful, coming away with not only chips and pretzels, but also mini oreos and a pack of m&ms. 

JJ walks around the counter to see your finds spread out on the counter and his jaw drops. Your giggle tears his eyes away from the assortment and he raises one eyebrow in question. “You’re sure your parents are cool with you taking all this stuff?” The question makes you laugh, and you lean in like you’re about to tell JJ a secret.

“If I’m gonna be honest,” you drop your voice to an almost-whisper, “I think my mom bought extra snacks this week just for this.” A small smile appears on his face, and if you hadn’t known him for so long, you would have no clue that there was a little sadness behind it, thinking of his own parental situation in comparison to yours. “C’mon, J. Batter’s done, pan is greased. All I need is your supreme topping skills.” 

What seems like forever, but in reality is only 30 minutes, passes by before you slip back into the kitchen to take your brownies out of the oven. The raggedy oven mitt JB leaves on the counter for you is barely hanging on by a thread so you grab the extra cleaning rag to wrap around your covered hand for protection. The second the pan touches the oven, JJ is there behind you, looking over your shoulder. You turn to him, eyebrows raised in scolding as his hands fall to your hips. You place your hands on the plane of his chest and push gently backwards, shaking your head. “I’ll put a five minute timer on. Go sit, you know they’re too hot right now.”  He allows you to guide him back to the couch before you pull out your phone and set the alarm, pulling you to settle into his side. 

The timer goes off and JJ jumps so quickly it genuinely startles you. You all share a chuckle at how fast his feet moved, and in no time at all, he’s back next to you, a brownie on a paper towel in each hand. He extends one out to you and you gladly take it. “Hey, man, thanks for getting me one too, really thoughtful of you,” John B says as he makes his way to the kitchen to cut one for himself and Kie and Pope. JJ’s mouth is already full of brownie and there’s a smug smile on his face as he swallows. He shouts a “yeah, of course, buddy!,” after your friend’s retreating figure before turning to you. 

“You know these brownies are ring-worthy, right? Like, SO fucking good I’m considering proposing right now.” 

You giggle at the statement as crumbs fall from his lip. Your only answer is “JJ, you know you did half the fucking work, right?” He laughs at your response and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Guess that makes us both wifey material!”

3. 

By far, your least favorite part of your friendship with JJ is tending to his various cuts, bumps and bruises. Between JJ’s general recklessness, his ongoing beef with Rafe Cameron, and Luke Maybank himself, it felt as though you spent every other day standing between his knees as he sat on your bathroom counter. This time, a particularly heated run in with the kooks had thankfully left JJ with nothing but a busted lip, bloody knuckles and an adrenaline high. His mouth was running a mile a minute, recounting every step of the fight despite the fact that you’d witnessed it all first hand. 

“Did you see the look on Rafe’s face when he hit the ground? Absolutely unreal!” You let out a frustrated huff as he waved his hands wildly, not noticing your own hand outstretched to grab his. 

“Yeah, J, I saw but please give me your hands. I need to put antiseptic on.” Your voice is a little pleading and he quiets at your request, laying his wrist in your hand and watching your face as you get to work. You dab at the cuts with a soaked cotton ball, and it doesn’t escape either of you that JJ no longer flinches at the sting. Once you’ve moved on to the other hand, his stare intensifies as you carefully move his rings around to make sure there’s no hidden nicks underneath them. When it’s time for you to move onto his face, he places his hands gently in his lap and lets you inspect his face closely, turning it from side to side with a finger at his chin. Your demeanor lightens a little when you’ve decided the damage is as minimal as possible. “Really glad you managed to keep Rafe away from the money maker this time. Well, mostly.” You punctuate your point by pressing the cotton to the tear in his lip and the pressure makes him hiss. You pull your hand away and grab the vaseline, smearing a small amount over the cut as gently as possible. “You really should ice that, J. Keep the swelling to a minimum.”

You realize a little belatedly that he hasn’t taken his eyes off your face the entire time you’ve been working and your eyes raise to meet his. The look in his eyes is a little confusing and a little startling, and his voice is gentle when he says “Thank you for patching me up. You always take the best care of me.” 

You let out a deep sigh before patting his leg gently and moving towards the door. “I think I could find work as a school nurse with all this experience you’ve given me.”

4. 

A boneyard party used to be your absolute favorite way to blow off steam on a Friday night. The sand, music, booze and weed were the easiest way to melt away the stress of a long week, but lately, the stress of seeing your best friend sneak off with some random had you absolutely dreading stepping foot on the beach. Most of the time, you had a pretty easy time keeping your less than platonic feelings for JJ at bay. You always rationalized swallowing your emotions down by telling yourself that you both needed each other as a friend way too much to jeopardize that. It was getting harder and harder to listen to your own advice lately, and partly because you weren’t quite sure what he was feeling. He’d been especially affectionate lately, not giving second thought to curling his body around yours on cold nights around the fire. His compliments had become less silly and teasing, and sometimes when he looked at you, it felt like he was staring straight into your soul. 

Tonight, you’d allowed Kie to pick you out an outfit from your closet, not wanting to spend time debating with yourself and getting yourself stressed. She’d picked out a pair of high waisted denim shorts and a cropped white t shirt, topped with a yellow scarf to tie around your ponytail. It was simple enough that she knew you’d be comfortable but cute enough that you’d feel confident. 

Secretly, she’d also seen the way JJ eyes had dragged slowly over your figure when you’d worn those shorts the week prior. Neither of you had spoken to her, or Pope or JB, about your feelings for the other, but they as a group had all witnessed the gentle way you handled each other and had their suspicions that one of you would break soon. She’d driven you to the boneyard, promising to stay sober enough to relocate you all back to the Chateau at the end of the night. She pulled your hand along, heading straight to where she knew your friends would be congregating, just behind the keg. JB and Pope each had a full cup in hand when you approached and JJ had a joint hanging from the side of his mouth. “Gentlemen, let’s get it going,” Kie startled the boys, a giant smile across her face. 

A few hours into the party and a considerable amount of beer later, the realization hit you that JJ hadn’t wandered off to find someone to mack on yet. He’d even turned down the touron who approached him first, despite her tiny skirt and flawless makeup. It had to be some sort of record for him, usually his presence at these parties was fleeting. You thought back to just the week before when you’d watched him lead a beautiful curly-haired girl back to the Twinkie. You’d felt nauseous watching them flirt, his legs parted as he sat on a low hanging branch with her settled between them. Her hands rested on his chest as she stared up at him from under her eyelashes and you had to rip your gaze from the pair when he slid from his perch and wrapped her hand in his. You kept your eyes on the ground as they passed, but like a train wreck you couldn’t help but watch, you were unable to stop yourself from throwing a last glance in their direction as they approached the van. He’d turned to look at her with a sly smile on his face and must have caught your eye over her shoulder. His smile dropped quickly and something looking like an apology crossed his face for a second but when you looked away again, focusing on holding the burning tears in your eyes back, he recovered and smiled back at the girl, pulling her into the spacious backseat. 

Even just the memory had you tense, and JJ felt the uneasiness radiate off of you from his position by your side. He called your name gently so as to not call attention to the two of you and you turned your head quickly, blinking away your thoughts. Your eyes focused on the concerned look on his face. “You alright? Did someone upset you?” JJ’s eyes were already scanning the crowd for who could have possibly upset you and it pulled a small smile to your face. 

“No, J, I’m alright, just thinking. All good now.” His face turned back to you, a small pout gracing his lips. He asks if you’re sure and when you nod in agreement, he turns his attention back to your friends. The two of you watch Pope and John B argue about if Gatorade was actually better for you than regular water or not for a few minutes before you turn back to JJ. “Hey, JJ?” Your voice is small and it surprises the boy beside you to hear you so timid. When his attention is turned on you completely, you start your question. “Is there a reason you turned down that girl before? She was like, stupidly pretty.” You’re finding it a little hard to meet JJ’s eyes as you ask, so you fiddle with the strings on your bracelet instead. 

A small chuckle leaves his lips before he replies with “I got the prettiest girl at the party standing next to me already. Why would I leave?” Your eyes meet his and there’s no humor anywhere on his face and you can feel yourself get hot under his gaze. You’re left speechless for a second before the sound of Kie’s voice pulls you from the moment. You clear your throat and turn back to your friends, mumbling under your breath. JJ replies with a “hmm?” and you repeat yourself a little louder this time, so he can just hear you.

“Kiss ass.”

+1

Somehow, Kiara had managed to convince her parents to allow you to come to Midsummers as her guest and by an even greater miracle, you’d managed to save enough babysitting money to buy yourself an appropriately fancy dress, floor length and blue with pretty flowers embroidered on it. You arrive at the Carreras’ house early in the afternoon to begin getting ready, helping Kie put her hair up with some flowers pinned in. You chose to keep yours mostly down and let your best friend weave some braids in, tiny beads sprinkled down the length of them. Neither of you put on very much makeup, but it was still more than you’d worn in recent memory, and it felt nice to look in the mirror and actually feel pretty and put together. Kie comes up behind you as you look in the full length mirror and wraps her arms around your waist, chin resting gently on your shoulder. “We look fucking good, don’t we?” She giggles and scrunches her nose up as you meet her eyes in the mirror. 

You nod emphatically before turning to face her, a wide smile on your face. “Hell yeah, we do, baby! The lady pogues know how to clean up good!” Your response makes her laugh, head thrown back, and it makes you wish all your friends would be in attendance, despite how much you love girl time with just you and Kie. 

Your dreams of being able to spend the night with all of your friends almost came true, spotting John B on Sarah’s arm from across the room upon your arrival. The night became even sweeter when you saw Pope standing next to his father, but even as the five of you stood together at the edge of the party, people watching and laughing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that JJ was the piece you were missing most. Kiara and Sarah left to make their way to the restroom and Pope was pulled away to help his dad, leaving you and JB standing in the corner. “You should go see him, you know. Skip out early, I’m sure Kie wouldn’t mind.” You turn to look at your friend, confused at his sudden idea. You had a feeling you knew exactly what he was saying, but you waited for clarification, fiddling with the glass in your hand. “JJ is at the Chateau and before I left, he seemed pretty upset that he wouldn’t get to see you in your dress.” 

He holds out the key to the twinkie and your jaw drops a little, and it makes JB chuckle, shaking his head slightly at your obliviousness. It really hits you all at once, exactly what JJ’s recent change in behavior meant. The intense stares, the end of his slew of meaningless hookups, and especially the sincere compliments that you’d been taking as a joke. You knew you had to see him, so you looked up at JB and handed him your glass, taking his keys from him. “Tell Kie where I went, please.” You turned and started to make your way through the crowd and you heard John B’s cheer through the noise of the party, smiling as you reached the door. 

You don’t even bother turning the radio on when you get in the van, the pounding of your heart loud enough. When you get to the front door of the Chateau, you can hear the television on and it takes a second to see JJ’s outline resting on the couch. The front door slams behind you and JJ doesn’t turn right away. “Jeebs, why are you ho-” The question catches in his throat when he turns and sees you in the doorway instead of John B. He breathes out a quiet “wow, hi.” You move towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so that his hands fall at your hips. 

“JB told me you wanted to see me in my dress, so here I am.” You look up at him teasingly as a blush spreads across his cheeks. “Plus, I couldn’t really have any fun at the kook party. The cutest boy in town wasn’t there.” It’s JJ’s turn to be left speechless and it makes you giggle. The sound pulls him out of his trance and its milliseconds before his lips are pressed to yours. You snake your fingers into his blond hair and you feel his hands squeeze at the meat of your hips as your lips part and he licks into your mouth gently. It feels a thousand years before you pull away, resting your forehead against his. “You’re my favorite person, JJ Maybank. I think you always will be.”

#outer banks #netflix obx #obx #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #rudy pankow #mine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow x reader

[transitverse]

(UN)SPOKEN

WORDS: 1511 CHARACTERS: Zenith, Dak CONTENT WARNINGS: Very minor drug use, discussion of death

Soundtrack: driftwood - jackson scovel

You've been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes. You've been awake longer, and you keep telling yourself it was just because you needed to take a piss (the grody truck stop bathrooms make Xanadu feel close to godliness), but you're still standing here, and you're not peacefully enjoying the summer air and crickets, either. Being alone with the same thoughts that woke you from a restless sleep isn't helping.

Thing is, you risk waking up Pox or Tech on your way back in. Coupled with the fact that you feel like you might come apart at the seams at the slightest provocation, you don't trust yourself to be able to utter even a few words to them without completely unraveling.

Aaaand that’s when you hear it:

"You okay, there, Z?"

Fuck.

You look up, and, of course, who else but Dak Rambo comes sauntering out of the darkness, cat eyes glinting in the neon light from the store signage. In one hand, a joint you can smell from all the way over here sits between his fingers; the other is tucked loosely into his pocket.

"Yeah! Yeah. Hi." Everything is normal and you are not plagued by disturbingly realistic visions of merciless homicide. "Just, you know, wanted some fresh air. We should get the cabin cleaned properly at some point. No offense, but it stinks in there."

"Hey, that's just part of her character. Trust me, there's some smells in there that no amount of cleanin' is ever gonna get out."

"Gross." You laugh, but you're painfully aware of how hollow it sounds. Dak says nothing more. It's like he knows. Like he's waiting.

Well. If anyone would have an answer to something like this, it's him.

Doesn't make it an easy question to ask. The tension is palpable for the full minute you spend trying to swallow the lump in your throat before you can finally form a calm, coherent sentence.

"Dak?"

"Mm?"

"What do you do when you feel like you might hurt people you love?"

Dak stares pensively; first at you, then off into the distance. The smoke from the cigarette resting between his fingers curls upwards and around his jaw. For a split second, you can feel him teetering on the edge of vulnerability.

"I ain't done nothing but hurt people I love, Z. You're asking the wrong guy."

"C'mon, man."

"Where's this comin' from, anyway? What's got you so worried all of a sudden?"

He looks back at you, and you look away, noting the distinct dryness in your mouth as you stare down at the ground instead.

"I dunno. I was just. Thinking about it."

"About hurting us? You're not about to flip and start putting bullets in us, are you?"

"Don't. Dak. Don't." He nailed it in one and he doesn't even know it. The tears you're only barely managing to keep at bay might not be an immediate giveaway, but the tremor in your voice certainly is. You're trying, hard, so hard not to let your cool-headed veneer slip, but for all the effort, it's a battle you're losing fast.

"Hey, hey, I'm kidding, I'm kidding--"

"But what if I do?" It's supposed to be a bark, angry, aggressive, but your voice breaks mid-sentence, reducing it to a muted whine. "I keep getting these--seeing these things in my mind, where I'm doing that exact shit, and I keep asking, like: what if it actually happens? What if I lose control and someone ends up dead?"

The words just keep coming. You wish they wouldn't. An uncomfortable, anxious heat rises under your skin despite the relatively cool night, bringing with it a wave of nausea that makes you glad you haven't eaten. When you face Dak again, you deliberately blur your vision so that you don't have to see the expression on his face. He's looking at you, you think. He brings his joint to his mouth, takes a pull, exhales a billowing cloud of heady smoke.

"I don't think you're gonna kill any of us, Z."

"It's not that simple, Dak--"

"Zenith. Zenith." Dak claps a heavy hand on your shoulder, and the weight of it knocks the rest of your sentence out of your mouth. "Listen. I don't know what the hell’s going on in your head, all this 'losing control' stuff, but I know you. Just 'cause you're thinking it, doesn't mean it's gonna happen, alright? You wouldn't let anyone else hurt us, and I don't think you'd let yourself hurt us, either. And if you did, well--whatever put you into that state, we'll be right there tryin' to pull you back out."

You tentatively let your vision swim back into focus, but the moment you see the rock-solid conviction on Dak's face, tears start to blur it again. (He has faith in you, so much faith in you, not knowing what you've done, what you can do, what you might do again.) He gently pulls you forward, towards him, and you barely need the invitation; you fall face-first into his chest and sob weakly into his shirt. He smells like weed and sweat and oil and there's maybe nothing else in the world more comforting right now, save perhaps for the hand gently rubbing your back.

"Easy, now, buddy, easy," Dak murmurs softly. The depth of his voice resonates into you through his chest. You coiled your arms around him, it seems, snaked them under his jacket to cling loosely to his vest. He's probably getting ash in your hair. You don't care.

"I just don't want to lose this," you manage to croak. "Don't want to lose you. Any of you. And I don't want it to be my fault."

"Yeah. Yeah." Dak lifts his hand slightly to stroke the back of your neck. Underneath you, his chest heaves a weary sigh. "Welcome to the club."

You stay like that for a while. You don't know how long. You aren't keeping track. Dak's hand remains on your back and you're grateful for its presence, for his presence. For him. For Pox and Tech, too, hopefully both still sleeping and not silent witnesses to your little episode. You've had friends before, but not like this. Not ones you've felt so personally responsible for and not ones who you'd tell your deepest fears to in the dead of night.

Not ones you love.

"Hey." Dak nudges you gently; you open your eyes to see the stub of his cigarette smouldering on the ground by your feet. "You good there?"

"...Yeah." You don't know that that's true, but you do feel a little bit better. Just a little bit. You lift your head and straighten up, sniff, wipe the tear residue off your face. "I. Um."

"S'all good, Z." Is it? You have more you want to say to him, after the admissions he let slip. But Dak pats your cheek, almost playful, and it’s disarming enough in the moment to make you forget. "Go on back inside, now. Get some sleep."

"Uh huh." It takes several seconds for you to recollect yourself, but as you're prying the cabin door open (as quietly as possible; you'd still rather not wake the others), you pause, one foot on the step.

"Dak?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you, man."

He chuckles under his breath, and you wonder if he knows how much you mean it.

"I love you too, Z."

You crawl between the seats once you're back inside and carefully slot yourself back in place, tucked between Pox and Tech in the nest of mismatched blankets you found in the trailer. If they're awake, if they noticed you were gone, they barely show it; the only clue they give is the way they both burrow back into you, pressed close against you on either side. Sometimes it feels oppressive, but not tonight. Tonight, you're glad for the reminder that they're here, real, alive. Safe. You with them, and them with you.

Maybe Dak is right. Intrusive thoughts, as unwanted as they are, are not clairvoyance. You're not predicting the future. You're seeing glimpses of the past entangling themselves with your current state of mind. Yeah. That's it.

...That's not actually comforting.

But Tech's leg kicks against yours, and you think about holding him, bloody and unconscious in the back of the truck. Pox drapes one arm over your chest, and you feel the prickling, defensive anger rippling under your skin when you think about her dad, and how gut-wrenchingly evil he is, and how you'd love to get your hands on him and--well, this train of thought isn't exactly assuaging your fears. But there's a point to it.

If there's one thing you know for certain, beyond all else, it's that you'd fight tooth and nail to keep these people safe.

You fall asleep with Pox's hair in your face, in a cabin that smells like drugs and blood and dirt and worse, knowing you'll ache in the morning from your shitty bed setup.

You wouldn’t let anyone take this from you.

Especially not yourself.

#neoscum #lost in transit #side story #zenith #dak rambo #complete

[cakesunflower]

Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 11

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Chapter 11

THERE WAS SO much that Luke needed to figure out, yet he found himself sitting on one of the couches at some fraternity, taking sips of the jungle juice in his cup. He lazily watched the people around him through the clouds of smoke in the room, a Migos song bursting his ear drums while his nose was numb to the mixed smell of alcohol and weed that made up the house. He was on the first floor which was where everyone was smoking and drinking, while down in the basement was where everyone was dancing in the dark with colorful flashing lights.

Calum was seated next to him, having just smoked and now seated with a quiet high in his system. Luke had no idea where Michael, Crystal and Ashton were, but he was sure they were having more fun than he was as he sat sipping his drink and kept stressing over what he was going to do when the school year ended and he was to walk across the stage and get his degree. Truthfully, after interning for a few summers and a couple of semesters at a recording studio in New York, he was sure to have a job lined up there. So it wasn’t what he was going to do that was stressing him out—it’s how fast it would be coming.

This was Luke’s last year in college before he was supposed to deal with the real world, and he wasn’t all too sure he was prepared to face that. Which is why he was trying yet failing to drown his worries in the fruity-vodka jungle juice he was drinking. Adulting was not something Luke Hemmings was ready to do—he was barely keeping his shit together as a student.

“Dude,” Calum spoke up over the music, his voice slow and steady as he rolled his head to the side to look at Luke, who quirked a brow. “I can feel your stress. Relax.” He was stretching out his words ever so slightly, much like he did whenever he was drunk or high. He reached over and tapped Luke’s cup. “Drink.”

Luke rolled his eyes though he did so anyway—not because Calum told him to, but because it’s all he could do. When Luke didn’t say anything, Calum asked, “how come you’re not with Ophelia?” Luke looked at him, slightly confused as Calum lazily gestures towards the door that led to the basement. “She’s downstairs. Saw her come in with the girls. I thought you knew.”

Sitting up, Luke’s eyes flickered towards the door, as if expecting Ophelia to magically appear. He knew she was coming to the party since they had texted each other earlier, but they didn’t really clarify when they would each get here. Hastily, Luke gulped down the rest of his drink, wincing slightly at the bitter taste before putting his cup on the floor and pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket. Much to his surprise, he had a few texts from Ophelia that he hadn’t seen, telling him that she was on the way to the party, that she was here, and asking where he was.

Luke cursed softly at the unread messages, knowing if she was downstairs she was most likely not going to see if he responded as he got up from the couch. Glancing down at Calum, he asked, “you okay here by yourself, mate?”

Calum merely shot him a lethargic grin and a thumbs up, slouching on the couch and Luke was off, pushing his way through the dozens of people gathered until he reached the stairs of the basement. Right at the top, he knew how damn hot it was gonna be downstairs, feeling the warmth radiate up to where he was, especially when there were people coming up the stairs in sweat and complaining about how they needed a break from the heat.

The music was louder and Luke could swear that he felt the walls vibrating as he carefully made his way down the steep steps, the black boots he wore thudding on the wood as he finally made his way down to the dark basement. People were dancing everywhere, crowding the room as a makeshift DJ station was in the front with colorful lights flashing everywhere. Luke could immediately feel his body temperature rising because of the heat and the fact that he was wearing a leather jacket, but he still narrowed his eyes as he stood as one of the tallest people in the room, hoping to catch sight of Ophelia or at least one of the other girls.

It had been a few days since Luke and Ophelia had slept together—three, to be exact—and neither of them really brought it up when they ran into each other. Which wasn’t often, seeing as their schedules were different and Ophelia worked, but avoiding your next door neighbor wasn’t entirely impossible. They still texted and such, but neither brought up the events of Saturday night—and Sunday morning. Despite the fact that both of them couldn’t stop thinking about the other, they weren’t about to start demanding the other’s attention. They were too prideful for that.

Luke scowled in annoyance as he felt people rubbing up on him, which wasn’t something he wasn’t used to since he’s been to his fair share of parties, but his patience was running thin when he couldn’t spot who he was looking for. Where the hell is she? Luke couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so desperate to find Ophelia, but he was kind of tipsy so he didn’t focus on wondering why. Though, Luke was realizing he didn’t really need a reason to see Ophelia—he just wanted to. The flashing lights were beginning to give him a headache, but his stubborn self wasn’t about to leave the sweat-inducing basement until he found Ophelia.

The effects of the few cups of drinks he had taken were beginning to take as Luke pushed his way through the thick crowd, brows lowering into a frown as he tried to find Ophelia. He could feel the sweat already beginning to form on his skin. But then Luke’s eyes landed on a familiar face towards the corner, dancing with even more familiar faces and he stumbled over, running his fingers through his curly hair as he regained his balance in the overcrowded room.

“Isabelle!” he shouted over the music, unsuccessful in catching the dark skinned girl’s attention until he called her name a few more times. She looked over, dark eyes meeting his through the flashing lights as he neared her, Laurel, and a couple of other girls he didn’t recognize. “Is Ophelia with you? Where is she?”

Isabelle’s eyes narrowed for a moment, whether she was trying to figure out who Luke was or what he asked, he didn’t know, but was grateful when she finally answered, “upstairs, I think.” Luke gave a nod, about to turn until he heard Isabelle over the music, “she literally just left with Pat.”

Luke froze, suddenly unfazed by the multiple bodies rubbing up and bumping against him as his gaze flickered to Isabelle through narrowed eyes. She had gone back to dancing with her friends, unaware that Luke was sending a confused, questioning glare towards her before demanding, “who the fuck is Pat?”

When Isabelle didn’t respond, Luke snapped her name once again, feeling a bit bad for his harsh tone but he was impatient and kind of tipsy, and Isabelle didn’t seem to care. She rolled her eyes, fixing her dark afro before responding, “one of the brothers she sometimes gets with.”

Her words had a startlingly uncomfortable, angry knot forming in Luke’s stomach as he felt the blood in his veins freeze. Isabelle didn’t at all notice the way Luke had gone rigid at her statement, gone back to dancing as Luke’s fists clenched and jaw locked in agitation. Knowing he wasn’t going to get any more answers from Isabelle, Luke let out sharp breath through his nose before turning and storming through the basement and roughly pushing through the people without any regard for them.

He hated to admit that he was pretty Goddamn ticked off.

Luke didn’t know where to exactly go except for the fact that all the bedrooms were on the second floor of the house, so once he left the basement he headed towards the second set of stairs on the first floor. Party goers were walking up and down the stairs, Luke having to inhale sharply through his nose to maintain his patience as he made his way up. The music was still in his ears as Luke’s hand reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, eyes flickering to either side of the hall at the many doors and wondering which one Ophelia was behind.

Fortunately, Luke didn’t have to ponder for too long because the door to his right had suddenly swung open, his eyes watching as Ophelia walked out. She didn’t see him, seeing as her head was turned over her shoulder as she said to whoever was in the room, “I told you downstairs, Pat, I’m not interested. Lay the hell off.”

Luke’s frown deepened at her words, mind processing just as Ophelia turned her head and caught sight of him, hazel eyes widening at his appearance. Neither had a chance of saying anything because suddenly there was some guy coming up behind her while saying, “come on, Lia, you telling me you don’t fuck with me anymore?”

The flicker of annoyance that flashed across Ophelia’s face wasn’t missed by Luke as she turned around to face Pat, who was lingering in the doorway in a muscle tee and jeans and hadn’t even acknowledged Luke’s presence. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she stated through gritted teeth, wanting more than anything to get out of this situation. Discomfort was swimming in her belly as she was standing in between the boy she hooked up with on occasions and the one she had recently slept with and come to terms with her feelings for.

Pat’s green eyes narrowed in obvious indignation, looking almost incredulous at how this was going. “So, what, you’re just gonna come up to my room only to—”

“Mate, she said no,” Luke spoke up, Australian accent gruff as he grasped Ophelia’s hand and pushed her behind him, her eyes blinking up at the tall boy who successfully blocked her from Pat’s view. It was obvious to Luke that this Pat kid was adamant on hooking up with Ophelia tonight, despite her wishes not to, and if it’s one thing Luke hated, it was guys being overly pushy when it came to sleeping with girls. Pat’s eyes then finally met Luke’s, blinking as if just realizing he was there, and Luke didn’t give him a chance to say anything before adding, “when a girl says no, it’s not your job to try and change her mind. Either find someone who will say yes, or stick to your hand.”

Ophelia’s mouth dropped as she let out an amused yet disbelieving scoff, eyebrows shooting up as she glanced around Luke’s figure to see Pat’s clenching jaw. Luke was a few inches taller than him, which he honestly was than most guys, but that didn’t stop Pat from glaring up at the Australian. But then his green eyes met Ophelia’s before he let out a scoff with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever, man,” he said while stepping around to step away from the doorway. With one last look at Ophelia, who had an indifferent expression on her face, he added, “not worth it.”

He walked down the hall, waving them off before disappearing around the corner. Luke’s tightened jaw loosened once Pat was out of sight, before turning to look at Ophelia, who was standing with her arms crossed and lips pursed. She then looked up at Luke, her tightened lips melting into a soft smile as she gave a one shouldered shrug. “Thanks.”

Luke mirrored her small smile, hands shoving into the pockets of his leather jacket. “No thanks needed,” he returned, simply glad that he was able to do something. Ophelia probably could’ve handled herself, Luke figured, but it made him feel better to step in anyway. The two stood by the wall, out of the way of drunk college students stumbling around, as Luke raised an eyebrow. “So. . .” he stretched the word out, catching her attention once again. “You and Pat?”

He refrained from cringing at how obvious his curiosity that may or may not be tinted with jealousy was, watching as Ophelia’s lips scrunched at the corner in mild guilt. “It was just a, uh, casual thing from time to time.” She then let out a scoff as she glanced over her shoulder down the hall where Pat had gone before looking back at Luke. “But that’s, you know, over now obviously.” No way was she going to subject herself to someone who suddenly thought she wasn’t worth it just because she refused to have sex with him. Some people were so fucking immature when they didn’t get what they wanted.

She looked at Luke, who was nodding slowly at her words, Adam’s apple bobbing slightly in his throat as Ophelia briefly wondered what he could be thinking. He had a calculating expression on his face, brows furrowed ever so slightly in the middle and gaze lowered. Luke had tried to wipe off the disgruntled expression but it was fruitless, especially when he suddenly burst out, “I didn’t know you were having a. . . thing with someone.”

Ophelia blinked at his statement, registering the way Luke’s sharp jaw locked after he said those words. His stance was casual, leaning against the wall on his left shoulder and hands in his jacket pockets, though his broad shoulders were squared and rigid. He was tense, and Ophelia’s eyebrows furrowed as she took this in along with his words that she detected a hint of displeasure in. “Yeah,” she slowly began, unsure of where this was coming from. “But like I said, it’s over now.”

“Huh,” Luke quietly sounded, gaze still on the puzzled girl as his lips parted and tongue pressed against the floor of his mouth ponderingly. What was he thinking? Ophelia bristled, eyebrows raising ever so slightly. “Are there any other lads?”

She was slightly taken aback, to say the least, as her brows lowered in confusion. Luke was acting weird, his cool gaze unnerving though the way his blue eyes were peering at her seemed anything but calm. What the hell is going on? “That’s—” Ophelia broke off, shaking her head slightly and finding some of the confidence that disappeared when it came to Luke—she had found herself being less shy around the guy, especially since he’s already seen her naked. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Luke.”

Luke’s right eyebrow twitched slightly at her words, the movement so subtle but Ophelia had caught it as Luke’s throat tightened. He knew it was none of his business and his question was definitely uncalled for, but the words had slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. Who Ophelia got with was her choice, and seeing as Luke’s track record on that was a lot more than hers, he had no room to judge. And he wasn’t judging—he just found himself being bothered that Ophelia slept with boys that weren’t him.

“It’s not,” Luke smoothly agreed, keeping the edge that was threatening to slip out of his tone. “I’m just saying. . . You should be careful. Some guys can be real assholes. Like that Pat guy.”

Ophelia scoffed with a roll of her eyes, arms crossing over her chest in an almost defensive move. “Trust me, I know,” she replied in a knowing tone, shaking her head slightly as she absently watched people stumble around the hallway.

Offense took over Luke at her words, eyes narrowing slightly as he stood straighter, back going rigid as he practically demanded, “what’s that supposed to mean?” Something didn’t settle well with him as he heard her words, not liking the slight accusatory tone that was in her voice. Was she implying that Luke was one of those types of guys?

However, she merely tilted her head to the side as she peered up at him, taking in his slimmed eyes. “What?” Ophelia returned with a slight shake of her head, not understanding the annoyed look that suddenly took over Luke’s face as she shrugged. “I’m just saying; some guys are just looking for hooking up but that doesn’t mean they should be, like, slept with. It’s just a bad idea.”

Luke despised the stinging indignation that hotly mixed with the blood coursing through his system. Was she talking about me? Does she regret sleeping with me? The Australian was a lot of things, and proud was one of them so even the subtlest hint that Ophelia wasn’t keen on the fact that they had sex was irking him more than he’d care to admit—though, he wasn’t doing too well of a job at hiding it.

Which is why he raised a challenging eyebrow, staring down at her with blue eyes as he evenly asked, “am I on that list?”

Ophelia was still confused because even though she had realized his change in demeanor, she hadn’t exactly figured out why. “What list?”

The muscle in Luke’s jaw jumped. “The list of people you regret sleeping with.”

The brunette girl’s jaw dropped, the music playing mostly in the basement vibrating under her Converse clad feet though it wasn’t really reaching her ears. Realization dawned on her as Luke’s chin jutted upwards slightly in question while she stared at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Luke shrugged uncaringly, though the expression on his face and the thoughts running in his mind said he was anything but that. “‘S just a question, Ophelia,” he stated almost casually.

She was a bit offended that he would even ask that, but then Ophelia thought about neither of them brought up what they did after they had done it in conversation. So, honestly, both Luke or Ophelia had no idea what the one truly thought of the other. They were too stubborn in their own right to talk about it at all for different reasons. “It’s a dumb one,” Ophelia shot back with a light scoff.

He found himself taking a lazy step closer, shoulder dragging against the wall as he did so while keeping his eyes fixed on Ophelia. “Then answer it,” Luke replied, raspy voice low yet she was still able to hear it over the busy house. She hated how the mere sound made her knees weaken.

Ophelia wasn’t sure what the purpose of this conversation was other than giving Luke some sort of peace of mind, which she found both ridiculous and amusing. The last thing she wanted to do was inflate his—or any boy’s, for that matter—ego, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie as she admitted, “of course you’re not on that list.”

Satisfaction coursed through Luke as his expression relaxed somewhat, especially when he heard her matter-of-fact tone. And Ophelia’s use of of course did nothing but bring a victorious, smug smirk onto Luke’s lips, just like she had suspected it would. Ugh, boys.

Ophelia’s own pouty lips were formed into an innocent smirk, which Luke didn’t think was even a thing until he saw her do it. He suddenly felt his tight jeans constricting him even more when he took in the burnt orange dress she wore that hugged her body in all the right ways and tantalizingly showed off her legs, along with her denim jacket that Luke had realized was her favorite piece of clothing. Remnants of red lipstick were smudged across her lips and Luke found himself stepping and leaning closer to Ophelia when his eyes landed on her mouth.

He couldn’t help himself, and Ophelia made no move to stop him as Luke’s hands shot out of his pockets and cupped her cheeks, giving Ophelia no time to adjust to the cold metal of his rings against her skin as his lips pressed against hers without warning. She didn’t care the slightest, head tilted upwards to meet Luke’s searing kiss as her heart did the familiar leap in her chest as Luke’s lips pulled her lower one into a sucking, toe curling kiss.

Her hands gripped the lapels of his leather jacket as she pulled him impossibly closer, blindly turning so her back was against the wall and Luke pressed his front against hers. The already muffled music might as well have been non-existent in Luke and Ophelia’s ears as their kiss deepened, alcohol infused tongues coming together yet neither caring the slightest as Luke’s facial hair electrifyingly scratched at Ophelia’s chin.

She wasn’t one for PDA most of the time, but Ophelia found herself throwing caution out the window with Luke’s tongue in her mouth and her fingers threading through his curly hair, earning a deep groan from Luke that only served to excite her even more. Ophelia’s heart was pounding wildly and her skin was on fire as Luke’s hands gripped her hips, using his grasp to dig his own into her as he hastily mumbled against her lips, “we need to get the fuck out of here.”

Ophelia was practically whimpering when she pulled away from the kiss, lips brushing against Luke’s as she told him, “there’s a bathroom two doors down.”

Luke wasted no time in grabbing her hand, a thrilling grin spreading across her mouth as she let Luke drag her in the appropriate direction, trying to press her lips together to keep her from seeming too eager. But with the long, confident strides Luke was taking, she knew he felt exactly the same way as they finally reached the right door, briefly feeling relief at the fact that it was unoccupied.

There wasn’t a single moment lost as soon as the bathroom door closed and locked, Ophelia being suddenly lifted as a quiet yet startled exclaim escaped her once she was settled on the sink counter. Luke’s tall figure dominated her easily even then as he used his hands to spread her knees so he could stand between her legs, dress riding up excessively, and press his lips against hers once more, the green eyed girl instantly returning the urgency of the kiss.

Hearts were pounding, hands were roaming and lips never left the others as Ophelia and Luke once against lost themselves in each other, much like their first night together. While the setting was drastically different, neither could bring themselves to care as Ophelia’s hands reached forward and blindly yet expertly began unbuckling Luke’s belt. The clanking of the belt coming undone was mixed in with the sounds of their lips smacking together, sharp breaths and distant music as Ophelia finally slid it off, tossing it behind Luke as it clattered against the tiled floor.

Lips were still pressed together as Luke shoved his jeans down to pull around his ankles, boxers following soon after and he couldn’t help the relieving groan he released into Ophelia’s mouth as his dick sprang free after being restrained for far longer than Luke would’ve liked. Ophelia’s arms were around his neck as she nipped at his lower lip, prompting Luke to quicken his movements as his hands slid up her bare legs and right under her dress, leaving a fire on her skin in their wake as his fingers hooked on the band of her underwear before pulling them right down her legs.

Goosebumps were rising on Ophelia’s skin, which she found funny because Luke’s touch was both warming her to her excited core and sending shivers up her spine. But once he slid her panties off her legs she reluctantly pulled away from his lips, breathlessly whispering, “hold on,” before twisting behind her to open the mirror cabinet. Her eyes landed on the box she was looking for, pulling out a condom from the emptying container before shutting the cabinet and turning back around to look at Luke, who was staring at her with a quirked brow.

“How’d you know that was there?” he asked, his chest moving at a quicker pace as he tried to regain his breath, full lips swollen even more and pinker than usual that only increased the wetness gathering between Ophelia’s legs.

She tried not to squirm to hide just how much she wanted him in this moment, holding up the condom as she deadpanned, “do you really wanna get into that right now?”

Luke didn’t miss a beat. “No,” was all he said before plucking it from her fingers and connecting their lips once more, and Ophelia never would’ve thought that she would be in this very frat house, fucking someone in the bathroom that wasn’t the usual frat brother she hooked up with. She had no damn regrets.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @calntynes @invisiblexcth @soulmatecashton @calumsmermaid @kchillout @thewackywriter @akacalciumhood @calumculture @ohhmuke @empathycth @flannelpunkcalum @poppedpins @novacanecalum @walkedhomealone @calistheloml @gettingjillywithit @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-stan4lyfe @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @calumthoodsyonce @xhaileyreneex @rosecoloredash @asht0ns-world @cxddlyash @mysteriouslycali @lmao5sosimagines @monsteramongmikey @calteahood @5secondssofssummer @sublimehood @biwriting @findingliam-o @isabella-mae13 @canujustnotplease @vxidhood 

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5sos one shot #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #michael clifford imagine #calum hood imagines #ashton irwin one shot #michael clifford one shot #calum hood one shot #ashton irwin blurb #calum hood blurb #michael clifford blurb

[yolo-contendre]

Billy saves Steve for once

At some point, Steve’s legs stopped working. Probably around the same time he couldn’t feel his face. Which was the same time he found himself slumped outside the master bedroom of Brett Mader’s house. A rising chorus of frenzied voices bounced through his head without sticking.

Then a flashing blue glow roamed across the wall, filtering in through the hall window. The shouts got louder. He thought he heard Brett say something about the backyard. Experimentally, he wiggled his foot.

People rushed past him and he wiggled his other foot. This one was harder. Then someone tripped over him. “Motherfucker,” they muttered before noticing Steve. Then: “Shit, that you Harrington?”

Steve’s head lolled. He directed (with some hardship) his stare up to Billy Hargrove, whose face was caught between the spray of flashing blue light and the dark shadows of an even darker hall.

“Yep. Don’t cream your pants.” His head suddenly throbbed where Billy had smashed a plate over it. There was still a faint scar by his hairline that hadn’t gone away. He thought, by now, that it never would.

“Cops are here, man,” said Hargrove.

“Well, who invited them?” He started laughing.

“Jesus, you’re loaded.” There was a pause filled by the sound of people rushing around. Then the soft emission of a sigh. “Alright, pretty boy, don’t take this too personal.” Billy leaned down and hauled Steve up by his armpits. The room tilted dangerously, and Steve stumbled against him. Billy planted his feet. Asshole.

When he got Steve’s arm secured over his shoulder, he ushered them down the hall, down the back steps, through the sunroom, and into the back yard. Steve’s head continued to loll.

“Goin’ too fast,” he mumbled.

“You can keep up. Seen you run. Better at that than basketball,” said Billy.

“Asshole,” he mumbled, even though Billy was right.

Fresh night air washed over them. It smelled the faintest bit like fire. Steve kind of remembered a firepit earlier. Hargrove shifted his grip on Steve, dragging him closer against him.

“Okay pretty boy, we’re gonna have to run. You good to run?”

Steve considered it. “Okay.”

Billy shifted his grip, and then he was running. Jesus Christ.

Brett’s backyard met the woods like his parents’ did. They dove through the trees, and Steve wanted to tell Billy to turn around, say it wasn’t safe out here, but they were running so fast and he had to use all his brain power to concentrate on what his feet were doing.

He had a feeling they weren’t doing too good.

Billy kept cursing when Steve lost his balance, but he never let him eat shit. “What’d you fucking take? Elephant tranquilizers?” he panted.

Steve thought about it. “Beer. Whisky. Brett’s weed—he doesn’t know about the weed, though.”

“Did him a favor. That weed’s shit anyways.”

Steve thought about it some more. “Pretty sure the whisky was his old man’s. Found it in the den, behind like,” Steve hiccuped, “this vase.”

Billy didn’t say anything. He kept their pace steady, but Steve thought they weren’t moving that fast anymore. Everything felt slow, like each step was a frame, dancing across a flip book.

After a while—felt like fucking years—he had to stop. “Fucking—hold on. Gonna puke.”

Billy retracted his arm and Steve fell sideways, catching himself on the rough bark of a tree. He hung his head between his shoulders, made a retching noise, and when nothing came out, swiped his hand across his mouth.

“Just um—just gimme a sec,” said Steve. His stomach churned, folding on bile and air. He hadn’t eaten much earlier. Or at all. For more than a second, for several seconds, he stood there panting. A weak spasm wracked his chest, and this time, he emptied up a watery stream of bile.

When he dragged his head up, Billy was watching him. His face was so much darker out here in the woods. No blue lights in sight. No light at all.

The fine hairs along Steve’s neck pricked up. He thought it felt a lot colder suddenly than a June night warranted.

“I’m good,” he said, then sat down heavily.

Billy kept looking at him, and Jesus, Steve wished he wouldn’t fucking look at him like that. He couldn’t quite pin down his expression. It faintly mirrored the one Nancy had given him when she’d called him bullshit. He felt like bullshit right about now.

“What? Never seen anyone puke before?” he snapped, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Billy looking at him. Bursts of color spread across the blackness of his lids. He looked at that instead, until he felt like he needed to throw up again.

After a long time, he heard Billy sigh. “You done bein’ a little bitch or you good? We gotta find a road or somethin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He sat for a second longer, then inched his way back up the tree, hands grappling behind himself for balance. Billy didn’t throw an arm over him this time.  He was on his own.

Steve still felt drunk, but the chilled air and the pressing darkness of the woods and the–noises, Jesus he felt like he could hear everything–sobered him right up.

They walked together in silence. Steve cut a look to Billy, who’d stopped to fish a cigarette from behind his ear and light up. He started moving again without looking at Steve, like he knew where he was going. And that made Steve want to keep following him even though he wasn’t sure why Billy hadn’t ditched his ass yet. Or better yet, why he’d even helped him out at all.

It made Steve feel weird.

Maybe he’d kept on staring, because Billy said, “Take a picture pretty boy. Lasts longer.”

“Could have left me back there,” said Steve.

“Sure could have,” said Billy.

“You didn’t.”

“Got ourselves a real Sherlock Holmes everyone.”

“Man, why?”

Billy tipped his head back, blowing blue smoke into the air. “Pretty boy like you, don’t think you’d make it in jail—this way. Think I hear a car.” He veered left and Steve swayed to follow him. His head was pounding now, right by his temple.

He tried to concentrate on moving his feet right again. One before the other. The forest seemed impossibly vast, like it had them between its jaws, teasing them with the promise of escape. But if he kept looking down, kept watching his feet, he didn’t have to look at anything else. Steve never heard the car.

A branch snapped sharply behind them. He stopped walking. He stopped walking before he even realized it, because when he looked up, Billy was far up ahead. Maybe he was finally going to leave Steve here after all.

Another branch crunched, softer, to his left. He shuddered, wishing he had his bat, but that was under a tarp in the trunk of his car. Billy circled back, finally noticing no one was behind him.

“You gonna be sick again?” he said.

“Man did you—you heard that right?”

Billy dropped the cigarette and cocked his head to the side. His hair was shorter, Steve realized, and he didn’t know when that had happened. They’d been in school together, every day, for the past six months, and he felt like he’d been drifting in and out of his days with blinders on. A cloud passed over the moon, and the silver of his necklace glinted under its light. Steve tried to focus on that instead of the sounds.

With his head swimming, and his limbs heavy, and all this darkness, he felt like—he felt his chest tighten, constricting his breath. He was so busy reminding himself to breathe properly that he didn’t notice Billy touching him again until he’d tightened his grip on Steve’s shoulder.

“Harrington, you good? You with me?”

The idea that he was good, and with Billy, was kind of hysterical. He laughed, the breath eking out of his chest. Billy was giving him a new look, like Steve was insane.

“You heard it right?” said Steve. “That sound.”

Billy was still looking at him. “Been hearing a lot of sounds, Harrington. We’re in the goddamn woods.”

“Thanks, yeah I know that. Just–it was back there. Sounded like maybe, maybe an animal or—”

Billy’s hand tightened some more, nearly painful. He steered Steve to a tree, pushing down until he was leaned against it. God he couldn’t breathe. Billy crouched in front of him, still fucking staring at him.

“Sit Harrington. Breathe or somethin’.”

“Yeah, okay, what do you think I’m doing? You really didn’t? Didn’t hear it?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Maybe. It’s nothing. You’re good, okay? Just need to sweat it out.”

“I’m not—it’s not that.” Steve squeezed his eyes shut. If he could only breathe, then maybe, maybe it would be okay—

“Harrington. Steve,” said Billy. His hand had migrated to Steve’s neck, a warm weight across his nape. “Look at me.”

Steve did.

Billy was kneeling in front of him, his stupid snap shirt unbuttoned nearly all the way to his navel. The necklace winked against his tanned skin again. He’d gotten darker over the summer and Steve hadn’t noticed that either

“There ain’t nothin’ out here. Nothin’ but me and you.”

“Gee, that’s real comforting,” said Steve. He tried to breathe in through his nose, out through his mouth—that’s how you did it right? Fuck he wanted his bat.

Billy reached for his hand, and Steve flinched automatically, but Billy’s grip was gentle, guiding his fingers forward to his neck. Right below his ear, the one with the earring. This one was a silver cross.

“Feel that? You got it?”

“Um.”

Billy rolled his eyes. He pressed Steve’s fingers a little harder. “My pulse dipshit. You feel it?”

“Yeah, yeah I got it.” It beat against his fingers, a quick, but steady thrum. Steve concentrated on it so he wouldn’t concentrate on his breathing, or the noises, and maybe that’s what Billy had wanted after all.

His shoulders gradually dropped from up by his ears.

“Okay?” said Billy. The hand at his nape squeezed slightly.

“Okay, yeah. Okay.”

Billy squeezed him one more time, and when he drew his hand back, his neck felt cold. “You’re gonna hang tight for another minute,” said Billy, “figure your shit out, and then we’re gonna find a fucking road and end this shit show.”

“Okay,” said Steve.

He took more than a minute to figure his shit out. He watched Billy casually light up another cigarette and hand it over to him after a couple puffs.

Steve didn’t give it back and Billy said nothing about that either. Eventually, he felt like he could stand up.

“You good?” said Billy.

Steve pushed away from the tree and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, feeling tired and embarrassed and not nearly drunk enough to be out here in the woods alone with Billy Hargrove. “Yeah, sure,” he said. He started walking in the same direction Billy had been earlier, before his little freak out.

They walked in silence for a while. Steve could physically feel it every time Billy looked at him, which seemed to be a lot. Probably to check that he wasn’t fainting like a little princess.

“That happen a lot?” said Billy.

Steve shrugged. “What? Being drunk?”

“You know what I’m talking about. That little show you just put on. The whole zombie act.”

Je-sus. Steve squinted up at the lightened sky. He didn’t know when they’d left the party. “Uh, not really,” he lied. “You know what time it is?”

“Got somewhere else you’d rather be, pretty boy?”

Only like a million other places. Possibly two million. Steve kept looking at him until he checked his watch. “3:30,” said Billy. “So, what, you afraid of the dark or some shit?”

“Man, I already told you. Thought I heard something.”

“Yeah I know what you told me. But, see, you got a real bad track record of lyin’ to me.”

“I’m not lying. What’s it matter to you anyways? If I’m like—afraid of the dark or whatever?”

Billy considered him. “Are you?” He seemed real serious all of the sudden. He imagined, for one horrific moment, blabbing everything about the Upside Down. Telling him about the dreams. And his shit sleep. And his suddenly shit life.

Steve swallowed it all away, tasting remnants of bile on the back of his tongue. “I’m not afraid of the dark,” he said. Only the monsters in it.

They kept walking, and Steve didn’t hear anymore crunching branches. He didn’t think he was being too vigilant looking out for that kind of thing until Billy spoke again, his voice cutting through the air. Steve jumped at the sound of it.

“Tell you why I saved your ass if you tell me what that was,” he said.

Had this kicking around for a while. I liked the idea of Steve being totally drunk at a party where the cops show up, and he finds an unlikely savior in Billy Hargrove. Who has his own motives for saving his ass. Not done, will probably post to Ao3 when it is. Enjoy! 

#harringrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #my fic #fanfic #dumb losers in love #kind of #preslash

[little-werewolf-oven]

The Parent Escape

Billy Hargrove knew he'd been dealt a shitty hand in the game of life. But he doesn't realize how shitty until he gets thrown into a juvie camp meant to straighten out troubled boys and meets his exact double. Jason Scott, golden boy from Bumfuck, Indiana, shares way too much in common with him to be any kind of coincidence, and together they hatch a plan to find out what the hell is going on.

It's a genius plan, Billy's a great actor.

He just doesn't count on Jason's best friend to be so pretty.

Chapter 1: San Antonio

The heat is practically coming up in visible waves from the pavement as Billy steps off the bus, knock-off aviators sitting low on his nose, duffle bag slung easily over his left shoulder. The dust in the air burns his lungs, and his free hand instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket, before remembering he’d moved them to his jacket on account of he’s been sitting on his ass for the past two days. A jacket that he wears like armor, even in the Texas heat. He’s tugging the half-empty pack from his interior pocket when a black man in a weird looking uniform walks toward him, giving him a steady once over before finishing his approach.

“You William Hargrove?”

“Billy,” Billy responds, tapping a cigarette from the pack and pulling it out using his lips, “You got a light?” To Billy’s surprise the man actually glances around before producing a cheap Bic lighter from his pocket.

“Shouldn’t,” he says, even as he thumbs at the flint in a well-practiced swipe, “but shit, kid, I had twenty bucks on you bailing somewhere around LA.” Billy raises an eyebrow as he leans in toward the flame, cigarette paper burning quickly as he takes a deep inhale.

“Can’t say I didn’t think about it,” smoke exhales through his mouth and nose as he relishes his first hit of nicotine in the past eight hours. The driver that picked up in El Paso didn’t stop for shit, and his dad had booked him on a non-smoking bus, likely a final “fuck you” for the summer.

He takes another drag, offering the pack to the other man, surprised again when he takes it, taps one out, and hands it back to him before lighting up himself.

“One last hurrah, yeah? They don’t allow this kinda stuff in there, you know?”

“Yeah, figured,” Billy says around the cigarette, taking a few steps into the shade of the bus station overpass. Dry heat his ass, it’s hot as fuck in San Antonio. The man follows him, and for a second Billy allows himself the tiniest bit of hope that this summer might not be so bad.

“Name’s Collins,” the man says, flicking his cigarette and not offering his hand, “I’m in charge of transportation and deliveries.”

“And which one am I?”

“I’ll decide once we get to the van.” He takes one more drag before tossing the butt to the ground and crushing it underneath his boot heel. Billy is loathe to follow suit but does so anyway, knowing he’s likely already pushed his luck to the limit. He follows Collins through the bus terminal and into a dusty parking lot to a rickety looking conversion van. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it’ll explode on the way.

“Toss your bag in the back, you can sit up front so long as you promise not to jump from the car.”

“Well shit, don’t go giving me ideas now, Collins,” Billy jokes, hoping a little levity will win him some points. Really, besides his dad, Billy’s always been pretty good at charming adults. Even half the police force in Emeryville thought he was an okay kid who just made some bad decisions. Teachers liked him, his friends’ parents liked him, it was just his own parent who saw him as a worthless piece of shit who needed to be taught some discipline. ‘Tough love’ he liked to call it.

Billy slings his bag into the back of the van, among boxes of plastic cutlery and hotdog buns, before hopping into the front seat. Pop cans and fast food wrappers litter the footwell, the smell suggesting not all of them had been completely empty before being balled up and tossed. He shoots a baleful glance at Collins - getting situated in the driver’s seat - before reclining his own seat back as far as it can go. After nearly two days on the ridgid seats of the Greyhound this was paradise.

“Drive’s about 45 minutes. Get some shut eye if you need, cause when you get to SACC they’re gonna run you til nightfall.” Collins warns before slipping the key into the ignition. To Billy’s surprise the engine turns on the first try, vibrating the floor boards just enough to feel soothing.

“Thanks man,” he says, and means it. The heat and the travel exhaustion leave his eyelids heavy, and it’s not a challenge at all to let sleep overtake him.

He dreams about the ocean.

++++

Too soon he’s being shaken awake, startled out of sleep by a pair of hands gripping onto his left arm.

“C’mon kid, time to pay the piper.” It takes Billy a full 15 seconds to remember who’s talking and where he is. And then it all comes flooding back to him. The stolen car, the vandalism, his dad’s fists, Susan crying. He rubs a hand over his face, nudging his sunglasses into his tangled curls as he pushes his fingertips into his eyes so hard he starts to see spots.

“Best if you sit up, first impressions and all,” the man, Collins, Billy remembers, says as he puts the van back into drive. Billy’s hand gropes blindly for the lever, squeezing it and snapping the seat forward so fast he thinks he might have whiplash. He’s rubbing at his neck as the van makes the transition from paved to dirt roads, shocks so worn every rock and divot is felt. He takes these last few moments to rub the sleep out of his eyes and tuck his sunglasses into his front pocket before attempting to detangle his hair. Collins is right about one thing, first impressions are everything, especially in a place like this.

“You ready?” He asks as the van comes rumbling up to a heavy chain link fence, complete with barbed wire on top.

“Not like I have much choice,” Billy mutters, giving up on his hair and wishing he’d thought of a way to sneak his cigarettes in. Or some weed. Fuck, some weed would be great right now.

Another guy in a weird uniform comes up to the van, and Collins rolls down the window and hands a few papers and a card to him. Billy gulps, throat gone dry as he watches the man’s eyes scan over the papers, and after a quick hand signal the gate is rolled open. He hands everything back to Collins, who accepts with a nod before setting the small pile on the dash and putting the van back into drive. The window stays open despite all the dust they’re kicking up on the road, and Billy is able to smell the mixture of sun and sweat and dirt.

It’s not long before they’re surrounded by ugly tan buildings and a dead looking field, grass fried from the scorching sun and lack of water. Goddamn he misses Cali. There are some people in uniforms like Collins’, but mostly he sees guys around his age wearing a white t-shirt tucked into khaki pants and heavy boots, doing stuff that looks like calisthenics or drills like they’d do in gym class when Coach was feeling particularly sinister.

Collins parks the van in front of a large but otherwise nondescript building. A man in fatigues and a crew cut is standing outside, eyeing the vehicle, mouth quirked up as his gaze lands on Billy.

“Ho-ly shit, he actually came,” the man crows in a heavy southern accent as he walks over to the van. “Ya owe me twenty bucks there, Coll.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll get it to ya. Where’m I takin’ ‘im?”

“Barrack 6, uniform’s on his bunk,” he gives Billy another scrutinizing look, “we’ll deal with the hair later.” Billy tries to keep the terror out of his eyes as Collins nods, putting the van into drive once more. His heart is beating wildly as they drive across the campus, passing another group of… cadets? Prisoners? Billy looks harder this time, trying to see if the guy was using a scare tactic, or if it was a real threat. None of the boys seem to have long hair, but not many have a shorn look, either, at least as much as he can tell as the van moves along. He guesses he could ask Collins, but doesn’t want to show his hand so soon.

They roll to a stop in front of a grey building with a large 6 painted on the side. Collins puts the car in park and turns to look at Billy.

“Listen, kid, I’m not gonna lie, this place sucks. But keep your head down and your nose clean and you’ll be okay.”

“Are they gonna…” he trails off, pointing towards his hair. Collins presses his lips together, making Billy’s gut clench.

“Well,” he says after a moment, “the good news is mullets are on their way out. And hair grows back, so just deal with it.” His words belay the softness in his eyes, a sadness Billy is surprised to find is for him.

“Thanks, Collins,” he says before setting the slightly crumpled, half-empty pack of cigarettes on the center console, “Hang onto these for me, will ya?” And then he’s squeezing the handle and releasing the door latch. He hops out and takes a couple seconds to stretch his back out before going around to grab his bag. Collins gives him a small salute as the truck rumbles off, and Billy is left alone in front of the ugly barracks. He slings has bag over his right shoulder, takes a deep breath, and struts in.

+++++

It doesn’t take long for Billy to learn the ropes around this place. Years of navigating Neil’s temper have taught him how to read facial tics and body language, know when to push and when to bow.

But that’s just with the sergeants.

The cadets are a whole other matter. Billy doesn’t have to waste time reading them, he just has to own them. Assert his dominance and sit on the top of the pile. All it takes is a couple of punches before he’s the head of his barracks. After that he can rely mostly on word of mouth and attitude to raise him to the top ranks of the whole campus.

It’s a whole week before he’s finally led to the make-shift barber shop. He puts on a ‘fuck if I care’ face, but on the inside his heart is beating a mile a minute. For just a few seconds he contemplates fighting his way out and making a break for it, but knows it would be stupid, pointless. Too many people to stop him, and nowhere to run. Story of his fuckin life.

He sucks in a breath and clenches his fists as he hears the razor start up, pushing down the bile as he feels its teeth on the back of his neck, curly locks dropping to the ground. It’s just hair, it’s just hair repeats over and over in his head, but it’s not, not really. It’s him, being erased in this place.

It’s too long and no time at all before the razor stops, and he feels hands brushing stray strands off his shoulders. He pries his eyes open, not even sure when he shut them, and looks at his new hair. He blinks back the tears, absolutely unwilling to show that kind of weakness, and hears his father’s slurs in his head.

Fuck but his dad would love this haircut.

He juts out his chin, nods at the men essentially keeping him captive, and goes out the door. Normally the fresh air would help him keep his composure, but all he sucks in is heat and dust, and it makes him want to scream. He bites down on his bottom lip and starts heading back to the barracks when he hears someone shouting at him.

“Jason? Yo, Jason! Where the fuck’re you headed? We’re at the wall.” Billy gives him a sneer and keeps moving, right until he feels fingers clasp around his arm. He doesn’t even have time to think before his body is twisting around and he’s decking the guy in the jaw. A couple cadets he hadn’t even noticed come running over, one excitedly shouting “Fight!” while the other stares at them with eyes like saucers.

The other guy stands up, hand on his jaw, and glares at Billy, “Jason, what the fuck? Why the fuck di’you hit me?”

“Who the fuck is Jason?” Billy spits, getting ready to throw another punch when he hears a shrill whistle. He drops his fist and puts his hands behind his head, palms brushing up against the foreign prickle of his new haircut.

“Scott! Marsden! The fuck’s going on?” Billy snaps his eyes at the approaching sergeant, letting his arms fall to his sides.

“Scott decked Marsden!” The excited kid, a toothy redhead, practically shouts, and Billy is so far past confused now. He turns to face the sergeant.

“Sir, I’m not Jason, or Scott, or Marsden-”

“I’m Marsden-”

“I don’t fuckin’ care, my name is Billy Hargrove, I’m in barrack six, and my CO is gonna be looking for me.”

“F’you’re in barrack six why’re you all the way over here?”

“Getting my haircut... sir,” he tacks that last bit on, knowing men who think they’re the authority liked to hear it, and he doesn’t want to get tossed in the brig or the hole or whatever the fuck they call it around here, whatever’s worse than the prison he’s already in. The guy gives Billy a hard look, eyes squinting, and even leans in a little before sucking at his teeth and pulling the radio from his belt.

“Sgt. Ford, you copy?” It’s a few seconds before the radio clicks and a fuzzy “Copy,” is heard.

“This is Sgt. Kern, you have eyes on Jason Scott?”

“Sure do. Just finished the wall.”

“That so?” Kern drawls, eyes never leaving Billy.

“Yep. Why, want me to put him on?”

“Nope, just clearing up some stuff. Over and out.” He clicks the radio back onto his belt, still staring at Billy. “You boys get back to where you’re headed, Hargrove and I are gonna take a walk to barrack six.” The three boys take off immediately, and Billy grits his teeth as Kern grabs his arm, leading him roughly back to where he’d been headed in the first place. Billy may not know who Jason Scott is, but he’s definitely going to beat his ass for this.

Continued over at my one true love, AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15569751/chapters/36146499

#harringrove #harringrove fic #WIP #hargrove twins #billy hargrove #my fic

[ragwitch]

Birds and Bees

Here’s some dreamy clawshock (Darcy/Logan) for @dresupi and the end of summer. Honey, I hope it gives you the warm buzzies (see what i did there?) and any one else that needs some. <3<3<3

Rating: T for language

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/ Logan (Wolverine)

Words: 1957

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, leaning into the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, straining the sleeves of his flannel. “It’s not forever.”

Darcy tried to erase whatever look she’d been wearing. It was unconscious, really. Logan just snorted at her and stepped back into the cabin.

“Come and put your shit down,” he said.

It was nice, if she was being honest. It was quaint which was weird because in her experience Logan was…rough and if she had walked in to find, like, a store of canned food and two sleeping cots she would not have been surprised. But there was a couch and a wood burning stove and a coffee table with little cork coasters and a half finished beer. There were even curtains. Plain curtains that he’d probably gotten at the dollar store, but it wasn’t newspaper over the windows so Logan must really have been feeling at home.

“Running water and everything,” he said drily.

She realized he’d been watching her take in the space. (She could see a kitchen through a doorway and there was a nice little hall off to the left for the bedrooms and bathroom.)

“It’s nice. Thanks for taking me in,” she said.

“Figured the only way of keeping you out of trouble was putting you somewhere you can’t find any internet,” he said, and then he turned and left her for the kitchen. “Your room is on the left side of the hall. You want a beer?”

“Please,” she said.

Way to bring it home, Logan, she thought as she drifted down the hall. Jane was out of the country and Darcy, in her restlessness, had accidentally broken into the wrong end of the dark web. And by accidentally she just meant she wanted to do her part for the good of mankind, maybe? But when the whisperings about her turned into outright requests for someone to take care of one Darcy Lewis?? Well Tony, and Phil, and Jane at a distance, and pretty much anyone else that thought they had a vote in her life, decided it was high time to put her somewhere for safekeeping.

So yeah.

Welcome to Montana.

The bed in her room had a quilt, all gold and purple triangles and squares bursting out from the center, and a rust speckled mirror, and a little space heater in the corner. There was a lopsided collection of wildflowers halphazardly hanging out of a jam jar and Darcy reached into her pocket to take a picture with her phone. And then remembered that they hadn’t let her bring it.

She dropped her bag to the floor with sigh and went to find Logan in the kitchen. He had a beer ready for her and he nodded to the back deck.

“Come and listen to the birds,” he said, tone dull and face hiding a laugh. “‘Bout all there is to do around here.” He scratched at his beard, which was about as close to sheepish as Logan ever got.

Darcy followed him out to the deck, the hollow rising up around them from the valley, turning into mountains. The sun was setting in front of the cabin and the rampant tall grasses were cast in gold, growing taller as they spread away from the building and Logan’s attempts at order and mowing. He sat down on the bench seat that lined the deck, legs stretching out in front of him, beer bottle spreading a ring of condensation on his jeans where he propped it, head tilting back to listen to the bird song ringing out from the trees rising up the hills.

_

Darcy woke up to the sound of more birds and blue gray darkness outside her window. And then again an hour later to the smell of coffee brewed and a heavy engined truck rattling down the stone drive, barely a hint of light in the sky. And then again a half hour or so after that to more birds.

So she gave up and grabbed a cup of coffee, black and dense and shockingly bitter, and went out to the deck with an old plaid blanket from the couch. It was later than she was expecting, but the sun was just making it’s appearance over the hills and the hollow was chilly and rinsed in dew from the night. She bundled up in the scratchy blanket and slurped at the coffee as light crawled over the meadow and down the drive.

An engine growled down the winding road into the hollow and a rusted up brown pick up truck trundled around the corner and onto the property. Darcy could see the sideburns from here.

Logan got out of driver’s side and Darcy was struck with the sudden notion that she wanted to crawl directly into his unraveling knit sweater and soak up all the body heat she knew he had cooking under there.

“I got you books,” he said, circling back to the bed of the truck and lifting cardboard boxes out from the back.

“Books?” She repeated. From the number of boxes she kind of wondered if Logan didn’t just rob a library.

“You know,” he said, glancing up from under thick eyebrows. “Like Google. But on paper.”

_

He’d gotten a bookshelf too. He said he got her the books and the bookshelf. But they went up in the living room and it all felt…domestic.

And the Google dig was less of a joke than she realized. A lot of the books were reference materials about the area. Because he had robbed a library. Well not robbed. But bought out the charity sale.

So when Logan vanished off into the woods to chase rabbits or chop down unsuspecting trees or whatever it was he did every day, Darcy pulled out the local bird field guide and a pair of binoculars. After three days she decided she liked the little yellow and black Evening Grosbeak best with his indignant chatter and squeaks. And then she got out the illustrated book of local fauna and went foraging.

She made chokecherry jam and pineapple weed tea and Logan came back to the house and sniffed the air.

“The hell?” he asked, staring at the stove.

“If you make a single Little House on the Prairie joke, I’ll drink all your whiskey tomorrow while you’re out,” she promised.

“Not saying nothing.” And then a minute later, “Not taking the first bite of that jam, either.”

_

“Is that your kill?” Darcy asked.

She was stretched on the porch with a thriller novel, smothered in sunblock and enjoying the bright rays all the same. Logan was dragging a tree back to the house, stripped of branches.

“Fresh from the hunt. C’mere. I’ll teach you to use a saw,” he said, hefting the trunk up onto a logging bench.

“I’d rather stay here and objectify you,” she said.

Logan hid his grin behind his sleeve as he wiped the sweat off his face. Then he unbuttoned and stripped out of his flannel so she could stare at him in a damp tank top.

She got all of two pages further into the novel before giving up and going in the cabin to fetch beers for them both. She watched the rest stretched across the top of the deck bench, and didn’t mind a bit when Logan took the tank top off and went to work with the axe.

_

The temperature dropped dramatically at night in the hollow. Which explained the space heater in her room in the belly of summer.

She put together a little campfire in a ring of bricks and Logan came out after her fingertips were a little singed and she’d stopped cursing. They sat in lawn chairs near each other, letting the smoke drift away from them, sipping whiskey together.

“Where do you go every day?” she asked after a quiet hour of watching embers spread over logs and sparks float away into the tree line.

“Checkin’ on my bees,” Logan said, soft and rumbly. He was wearing that sweater again, the one with the cuffs that were undoing and slouch that Darcy was pretty sure she could share with him.

“Your bees?” she asked. “Is that…Is that slang?” B’s like bitches? Did Logan have a harem of log women out in the woods?

“For what?” he asked, laugh cracking out in the words.

“Bees, bees? Bzzzz bees?”

He was laughing, trying to hide his sharp smile behind the hand rubbing at his beard. “Got no idea what other kind you’re thinkin’ of, Darce.”

“I just…I can’t picture it.”

“I don’t have a suit for you, but you can come out with me sometime.”

_

She only got stung twice. They burned a little but Logan took her back to the cabin and put baking soda paste on her neck and arm with careful fingers. She got the ones high up on his shoulders. Not because he needed her too, but he was letting her and if she lingered…well, he was relaxed, so who else was going to mind?

The important part was that they had honeycomb for their efforts.

“Oh my god,” Darcy hummed, trying to hold the heavy syrup on her tongue for another minute. It was spicy and dense and the sweetest flavor she’d ever had. She whimpered a little as Logan poured a little puddle of cream into the bowl over the top of her chunk.

“Trust me,” he said.

And she did.

And he was right. They both groaned, teeth dragging across spoons trying to catch every last smear of honey, cold cream bursting and bringing the flowery clover taste out to spill into their mouths.

“Way to go bees,” Darcy said and pretended not to notice Logan’s cheeks pink with the praise.

_

Late in summer Darcy woke in Logan’s arms. They’d had another campfire, this one with more whiskey. They’d shared a log as a seat and even if Darcy didn’t get into that ribbed sweater, she’d cuddled up to it.

And then fallen asleep on it.

Logan was putting her down in her bed and her fingers were tangling into the loose threads on his sleeves. He smelled like campfire and the cigar he’d been mangling and honey.

“I think you should stay,” she whispered.

Warm hands squeezed at her waist and hips as she sank against the mattress. His knee was pressing into the bed against her side and she was pretty sure if she just tugged a little harder, he’d come sinking down over her.

“I think you should ask me that tomorrow,” he said, growled, into her ear.

“I’m gonna,” she said, and he untangled her fingers from his sweater and nuzzled his nose against her hairline before vanishing from the bed.

She huffed as the door shut behind him and then burrowed under her blankets.

_

She woke up early in the morning, and the cabin was dark and quiet. Her room was chilly and her toes were cold.

She padded across the hall to the other bedroom where the space heater was going. She knocked on the cracked door and when he shifted on the bed- it was bigger and the spread was dark and soft looking -she crossed the room.

She pressed her knee to the mattress and ducked her head down till she could smell the whiff of smoke still in his hair. He was wincing up at her, groggy and grumbling, but there was curl at the corner of his mouth.

“I think you should ask me to stay,” she whispered.

“Was planning on it,” he rasped and then burning warm hands appeared on the backs of her thighs and he dragged her down under the covers.

#clawshock #darcy lewis #darcyland #logan #Darcy x Logan #gift fic #drabble #lets all run away to the hills together #and eat honey

[5raysofsunshine]

100 This or That Questions: My Replies!

Thanks anon for wanting me to answer them all! Hope my answers didn’t disappoint! Also, if anyone has questions for me, I’m down to answer them!

1. Coffee or tea? - Depends on the occasion, but I’ve been trying to be more of a tea person. 2. Black and white or color? - Damn, umm... I’d have to go with Black and White. #classic 3. Drawings or paintings? - I can’t personally paint for shit, but I can sketch. But I enjoy looking at paintings and watching the process of it being done. Then again, I love all kinds of art mediums (I go to art school soooo). 4. Dresses or skirts? - Dresses for sure, even though I don’t ever wear them. That way you don’t have to worry about trying to find a nice shirt to go with the skirt, since you know, a dress is one whole piece of clothing.  5. Books or movies? - Books, duh. Literature is lit my dude. 6. Pepsi or Coke? - Raised with Pepsi, but slowly transitioning to Coke. 7. Chinese or Italian? - Both, I haven’t had Chinese food in forever though so I’m leaning more towards that right now. 8. Early bird or night owl? - Night Owl for sure, especially as of late. 9. Chocolate or vanilla? - Raised vanilla, but slowly transitioning to Chocolate. 10. Introvert or extrovert? - Both, I’m constantly going back and forth.  11. Hugs or kisses? - Depends on the person. 12. Hunting or fishing? - Neither? 13. Winter or summer? - WINTER ALL THE WAY 14. Spring or fall? - FALL ALL THE WAY 15. Rural or urban? - Raised rural, slightly becoming more urbanized, but honestly don’t really care. 16. PC or Mac? - PC, I don’t know how Apple Products work.  17. Tan or pale? - Pale, though I appreciate being tan right now. 18. Cake or pie? - Cake cake cake cake cake cake cake!!! 19. Ice cream or yogurt? - Ice Cream, for sure. 20. Ketchup or mustard? - Depends on what it’s going on. 21. Sweet pickles or dill pickles? - Dill pickles, duh. 22. Comedy or mystery? - Comedy, unless the mystery is more like a psychological thriller where you think you know what’s going on but then you’re figuring out new things as you go and you’re all confused at the end? ‘Cause those are my faves. 23. Boots or sandals? - Boots, 112%. 24. Silver or gold? - Silver, goes better with my skin tone. 25. Pop or Rock? - Both?  26. Dancing or singing? - If I absolutely had to choose between the two, I think I’d pick singing over dancing. Done both for years, but singing is more important to me. 27. Checkers or chess? - Chess, used to play with my dad all the time. I suck, but I’ve slowly gotten better (I think). 28. Board games or video games? - Board Games! #classic 29. Wine or beer? - Depends on the occasion, and I can’t really pick since I haven’t had either in a while. 30. Freckles or dimples? - Freckles! I love my own and I love them on other people (freckled shoulders are my weakness). 31. Honey mustard or BBQ sauce? - Damn, gonna have to go with BBQ sauce.  32. Body weight exercises or lifting weights? - Both and neither at the same time. Wish I could do them, but I can’t because I’m feeble and I don’t have time. 33. Baseball or basketball? - Both? Baseball for pitching, Basketball for just shooting baskets. Don’t really care about the sports in general. 34. Crossword puzzles or sudokus? - Crossword Puzzles! Used to do Sudoku when I was younger, but I’m so bad with numbers. 35. Facial hair or clean shaven? - In my past experiences with men, a little scruff isn’t bad, but can’t deal with actual beard. Bugs me too much. 36. Crushed ice or cubed ice? - Crushed, duh. 37. Skiing or snowboarding? - Both and Neither? Never done either, and I think both are interesting but I ain’t down. 38. Smile or game face? - Both? Depends on the occasion/person? 39. Bracelet or necklace? - Bracelet for sure, but also I’m more of a ring person in general. 40. Fruit or vegetables? - Both! But fruits are much more preferred. 41. Sausage or bacon? - Damn, that’s a tough one... Both! I can’t pick! 42. Scrambled or fried? - Scrambled, with a shit ton of cheese mixed in. 43. Dark chocolate or white chocolate? - Neither, Milk Chocolate all the way. 44. Tattoos or piercings? - Tattoos, duh. 45. Antique or brand new? - Depends, but I think I’m probably more of a modern/contemporary person, so Brand New. 46. Dress up or dress down? - Dress up, I wanna look nice. I hate wearing sweats in public, it makes me feel weird. 47. Cowboys or aliens? - Cowboys. Sorry Aliens, but I ain’t down in being abducted. 48. Cats or dogs? - DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS but also cats, I don’t discriminate against cute fluffy friends. 49. Pancakes or waffles? - Both, but also neither. I prefer French Toast. 50. Bond or Bourne? - Bond, duh! 51. Sci-Fi or fantasy? - Honestly? Neither. 52. Numbers or letters? - Letters, duh! I’m a writer, what did you expect me to pick? 53. Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings? Harry Potter, I’ve never enjoyed the Lord of the Rings series and I don’t think I ever will. Sorry to disappoint. 54. Fair or theme park? - Fair, because food and games. Don’t care about rides. 55. Money or fame? - What’s the difference? Ha, kidding. Fame, I like it when people notice me and I want to inspire others like how others inspire me. 56. Washing dishes or doing laundry? - I love doing laundry, but it seems as though I always do dishes and never have time for laundry. It makes me sad. 57. Snakes or sharks? - Sharks!!! 58. Orange juice or apple juice? - Orange juice is bae. 59. Sunrise or sunset? - Hmm, honestly I prefer sunrise. I’m just never awake for it anymore.  60. Slacker or over-achiever? - Slacker, sadly. I am a major procrastinator and I’m also super lazy. So fun. 61. Pen or pencil? - Raised using pencils, but now I prefer pens. But only like specific pens that I know work really well. 62. Peanut butter or jelly? - Peanut Butter, 112%. 63. Grammys or Oscars? - Grammys, the outfits are always so interesting and the performances are killer. 64. Detailed or abstract? - Detailed, for sure. 65. Multiple choice questions or essay questions? - Multiple Choice! Who the hell actually prefers Essay Questions??? 66. Adventurous or cautious? - A little bit of both, depends on the occasion and how my mental state is. 67. Saver or spender? - Spender, sadly. I keep trying to save, but then I find new things to spend money on.  68. Glasses or contacts? - Glasses, even though I don’t wear mine regularly. 69. Laptop or desktop? - Laptops are practical, but there’s something about working on a desktop that makes me feel so nostalgic and more professional. 70. Classic or modern? - Depends on what we’re talking about here. 71. Personal chef or personal fitness trainer? - Personal Fitness Trainer, I wanna be able to make my own food and then be able to get into shape. 72. Internet or cell phone? - That’s a really stupid question, I need both to survive. Haha. 73. Call or text? - Depends on the situation, but probably Text since it’s more convenient?  74. Curly hair or straight hair? - Curls are so cute and I love it when my waves are more curly ugh it’s wonderful. 75. Shower in the morning or shower in the evening? - Neither, I shower in the afternoons. 76. Spicy or mild? - Mild, I can’t handle much heat. Which is sad, because I’m Half Mexican and I can’t keep up with that side of the family. 77. Marvel or DC? - Honestly, both but I’m leaning more towards DC. 78. Paying a mortgage or paying rent? Idk man, I have yet to pay either. 79. Sky dive or bungee jump? - NEITHER OH MY GOD NO NO NO NO NO 80. Oreos or Chips Ahoy? - Chips Ahoy, for sure. 81. Jello or pudding? - Jello, especially if they’re Jello Shots. ;) 82. Truth or dare? - Truth, I am a coward. Though usually, if I’m being dared to do something, it involves kissing other people (once had a round where I kissed like 4-5 girls in the same night). Ahh, memories. 83. Roller coaster or Ferris wheel? - NEITHER BUT ESPECIALLY NOT A FUCKING ROLLER COASTER NO NO NO NO NO 84. Leather or denim? - Both, but I actually prefer denim. It’s weird. 85. Stripes or solids? - Solids, duh. 86. Bagels or muffins? - Damn, I love them both! Oooh, but a chocolate chip muffin sounds sooooo good right now!  87. Whole wheat or white? Neither, Sourdough all the way. 88. Beads or pearls? Pearls. #classic 89. Hardwood or carpet? - Hardwood, 112%. 90. Bright colors or neutral tones? - Neutral tones, for sure. 91. Be older than you are or younger than you are? - Huh, I’m not sure. I’d say older because drinking legally, but that means more responsibilities. I think I’d have to go with younger, since it gives me more time to plan and figure out adult things before I have to actually do adult things. 92. Raisins or nuts? - Nuts, especially Cashews.  93. Picnic or nice restaurant? - Picnic!!! That’s like my dream date. 94. Black leather or brown leather? - Both! 95. Long hair or short hair? - Long hair, even though it’s annoying to take care of sometimes. 96. “Ready, aim, fire” or “Ready, fire, aim”? - What the hell kind of question is that? The first one? 97. Fiction or non-fiction? Non-Fiction, because 1) I write it all the time (I like writing about my love life and stuff), and 2) I like learning about other people’s personal lives. 98. Smoking or non-smoking? - Smoking, since I smoke both cigarettes and weed (not so proud of the cigs, but weed is great). 99. Think before you talk or talk before you think? - Oh boy I wish I could think before I talk, that would save me from causing so much trouble. 100. Asking questions or answering questions? - I love being asked questions, because it helps me believe that people are actually interested in getting to know me. So if you all ever have any questions for me, feel free to ask away!

#ask me things #send me things #tumblr asks #questions #replies to questions #enjoy #anon asks #this took forever #now i have to go take a quick shower before being responsible