#Duffel Tool Bag

[toolduffelbag]

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[switchytransboy]

sooo halo & i have an empty house to ourselves this and next weekend due to me dogsitting… so i made a purchase.. 👀🙈😵‍💫

[charliemwrites]

Talked about this with @ceilidho last night and it’s making me Insane,

Neighbor!Johnny.

His parents have moved to be closer to his sisters and their children, leaving him their gorgeous house to crash at during leave.

When he moves in, you bring him a batch of cookies, welcoming him to the neighborhood and telling him to stop by if he needs anything. Something in his eyes flickers as he takes you in, sundress and sneakers.

“Cookies aren’t the only sweet treat here,” he drawls, grinning.

Your neighbor Johnny who leans folds his massive arms over your fence when he catches you out by the pool. You don’t have your towel or a coverup because it’s your own backyard, but it’s fine! There’s a fence between you two and anyway he’s just coming to say hi.

Johnny who tsks when you tell him your husband went on another business trip without fixing the AC. You don’t want to call someone over while you’re home alone. Not to worry - Johnny is handy with wires and he’ll fix it for free. And while he’s here… that cabinet too, aye? And the shower drain that’s a bit clogged?

You don’t notice that a couple of your photos are missing from an album you keep in the basement with the heater. Or the lotion from your cabinet is gone - your husband probably tossed it. Definitely don’t notice the very very slight change in consistency of your body soap.

One day you’re just home from groceries and Johnny stumbles out of a taxi. He’s got a big black duffel bag, still in uniform. There’s dirt in his mohawk and streaky paint on his face.

“Bonnie,” he sighs, making a beeline for you. “Missed you. Give us a hug? It was a rough go.”

And of course you hug him - least you can do for a man risking his life to keep the rest of the world safe!! You dont notice the smudges he leaves on your cheek until your husband points it out when he gets home.

Your husband…

Johnny doesn’t let Ryan call him Johnny; he introduces himself as “Soap.” You figure it’s a guy thing, giggling about the callsign while Johnny grips bruises into your husband’s soft white-collar hands.

He doesn’t like Johnny. Says it’s weird how he’s always hanging around.

Not always, you correct, he only gets a couple weeks of leave at a time.

And he spends as much of it as he can with you. It’s nice, though, to have company while you futz with housewife chores and pretend to anticipate your husband’s return home.

Johnny’s good company! He listens with rapt attention to the rambles your husband barely even pretends to hear. He doesn’t call your crime podcasts creepy, or your tv shows noisy.

(In fact, he listens a bit too closely. If you paused while cooking or cleaning, you’d notice the feverish light in his eyes. Certain turns of your tongue make his thighs twitch).

When you’re having a bad day, venting to Johnny about it over a cup of coffee, he listens, nods, clicks his tongue.

“He best take care of that when he gets home.”

You don’t get what he means, and the next day when you’re still annoyed, he shakes his head.

“All pent up still, eh? He not taking care of you right?”

You fluster and swat at him, remind him you’re not one of this army bros he shouldn’t be so crass. He keeps making those comments. You just roll your eyes and wave him off - but never correct him because it’s true.

One day your husband is home when Johnny stops by. You got something stuck in the sink drain and need him to get it - knew Ryan wouldn’t call in a reasonable time to save it.

When he comes in, Johnny drops a kiss on your cheek before going for the kitchen. Knows exactly where it is, you two have a standing brunch date there.

Johnny listens to you talk while he works, fusses at you for trying to hand him his dirty tools. Goes into your fridge, grabs a can of soda and a peach. Reminds you that you’re running low on yogurt while he licks juice from his fingers.

When he’s done, he drops one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, big hand anchoring you by the hip. You walk him out, promising to let him look at that rattling noise your car has been making the next day.

It starts a fight. Ryan is furious that Johnny is so comfortable in “his” house. You shake your head, tell him that you’re just as comfortable at Johnny’s but that only seems to set him off more. He tells you that it’s not normal, that Johnny is being inappropriate and you’re letting him.

You scoff and roll your eyes, tell him that he’s being insecure, that you only have eyes for him. He ends up storming out, presumably to go stay at his brother’s.

Thirty minutes after he’s gone, there’s a knock at the door. You know it’s Johnny. You almost answer it. But Ryan’s accusations ring in your head and dig a guilty pit in your stomach. You go upstairs, pretending you didn’t hear it. Or any of the others for the half hour after.

[daisy-milk]

MAROONED.pdf

➠ office_crush!Han x reader

➠ wc: 3.7k

➠ summary: your workplace becomes target to an unfortunate hostage situation. fortunately the assaliants don't seem violent, however unfortunately, you get shoved into a trunk with your office crush.

➠ warnings: smut, fingering, overstimulation, piv, mentions of a hostage situation, bondage

➠ masterlist

➠ a/n: had this for a while haha

“mmmff!!” 

you tried to at least sound assertive, but it was a bit hard with duct tape sealing your lips shut. however, that didn’t stop you from spewing muffled curses at the man who was currently dragging you to his car. you couldn’t do much but flail your zip-tie bound hands and growl unknown obscenities through your closed mouth, but somehow it seemed to have kept your assailant nervous. or maybe he was just like that from the start. 

“i-i’m sorry ma’am,” the masked person stuttered quietly. 

poor kid, you thought. he couldn’t have been older than 19 and it didn’t seem like he wanted to even be here, “w-watch your head…” the kid’s hand gently pushed your head down to try and shove you into the trunk of a small black sedan, but you resisted, easily shoving out of his grasp. you gave the assailant an incredulous look and his shoulders visibly slumped. suddenly, the kid’s eyes widened from under his mask and before you could even tilt your head in question, you felt large hands snatch your body, nearly folding you in half to shove into the trunk. you didn’t have any time to even react before another body was forced into the trunk with you. 

“you can’t do one simple thing, idiot?” you heard a new voice from outside the trunk. you couldn’t see who it was who threw you into the car, but you did hear a loud slap from where the two criminals stood, “get in the damn car and meet me at the location. and you better not fuck up again, hear me?”

the trunk was cramped, various tools and suspiciously full duffel bags crammed into your back and not to mention the body of another unfortunate hostage that was just shoved in blocking your view of your kidnappers. you writhed a bit, trying to shimmy over the person, but to no avail when the hood of the trunk was slammed shut leaving you in pitch darkness. 

you rolled your eyes and slumped back. there was a small sliver of light that peeked through the thin opening of the trunk, but the dim light was enough to finally realize who you were taken with. han jisung. to be trapped with anyone and it just so happened to be your work crush. the two of you had a little back and forth thing going on, one of you saying something mildly flirty and the other might respond with the same energy, but neither of you doubled down. it always ended how it started except for the fact that you both left with bright red blushes burning onto your cheeks. pretty juvenile for a pair of grown adults, many would say, but he was the reason you’d be excited to actually go to work. hell, today you even “unintentionally” brought that candy he had mentioned once, but it also just had to happen that your workplace becomes the target of a now hostage situation.

you glanced over at him and he was already looking at you. neither of you had much fear or anxiety written on your faces, despite the situation, but there weren’t any signs of a weapon on the robbers and they didn’t seem the type to kill anyone. you were just hostages. clearly, it was quiet between the two of you with the duct tape over your lips, but the sound of the engine starting had immediately alerted the two of you. you let out a loud sigh through the tape as you felt the car start to move. 

the both of you endured the drive. it seemed to be a getaway chase by the way the car was recklessly steering, throwing your bodies around with every bump and turn. one bump and you flipped onto your other side. another turn and you heard a loud thump followed by a groan, Han must have hit his head. a third and fourth and the two of you are flying every which way inside the crowded trunk space. the fifth time came around and you felt the car halt to a harsh stop. the momentum sent your body flying forward, groaning as you slammed against the wall of the trunk. not only you were affected of course, but Han’s body followed suit, his front being smashed into your back. it seemed that after the car had slammed on the brakes, the police had finally caught up. blaring sirens were heard from outside the vehicle and the loudspeaker from the cop car spoke, 

“PULL YOUR VEHICLE OVER IMMEDIATELY. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST,” you let out a breath of relief, but the second you did you realized how close Han was as you were able to feel his breath as well, pressed up tightly behind you. you couldn’t move away either, “STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR.”

moments passed and you vaguely heard the commotions of the arrest being made. though, you couldn’t focus on much that was going on outside due to your mind racing. how could you focus when you felt Han’s toned chest rising shallowly up and down against your back. the warmth from his body radiating through that thin button up shirt he always wore that may be a size too small. you always noticed that. if you were a normal person you could tell him that he might have outgrown his shirt when he started working out, his pecs giving the buttons that kept his shirt together a run for their money. but you never said a thing, drooling over the way the seams would fight for their life every time he would stretch at his desk. he was so close. your bare legs brushed against his slacks and your imagination ran wild. you tried to shuffle in your restraints, there was a dampness to your panties that you realized made you quite uncomfortable and awkward, especially with the man causing it right behind you. unfortunately for you, instead of successfully concealing anything, your pencil skirt began to scrunch up at the waist. right. it comes back to you, the fact that you chose to wear your shortest office skirt today to impress Han now biting you in the ass. you curse to yourself as your choice in outfit now backfires on you, and you were certain, with how close he was pressed up against you, that you were now staining his formerly clean trousers with your shameful arousal. at least you were lucky he couldn’t see the intense blush making your face grow redder than a tomato. for a moment, you had forgotten that your mouth was taped shut as you attempted to offer a quick ‘sorry’ for your tragic situation, but all that came out was a muffle. a muffle that sounded too close to a moan. and to think you didn’t think it could get worse. here you are, struggling against his frontside, dripping wet, and moaning with no way of explaining yourself. to say you were embarrassed couldn’t begin to describe how you felt. maybe you could use this whole hostage situation as an excuse to quit and move far, far away because there was no way you could face him ever again after this. speaking of the hostage situation, it had been way too long for the police to be making this arrest. was there more than just that one teen that was driving? you swear you heard several cops too… what could possibly be taking so long? snapping out of your moment, you tried to listen for anything outside the vehicle. nothing. had they not realized that you two were in the trunk? you listened in again. dead silence. just the sounds of cars driving by. 

‘theres no way,’ you thought, ‘did they seriously leave us here..?’

you tried to turn around, but as you moved it was Han’s turn to let out a loud groan. your eyes widened, worried that you might have unintentionally hurt him, you instinctively shuffled again to check up on him to no avail. however, this time you moved, he let out more of a whine. following that, his head dropped into the crevice of your neck and you could feel the beads of sweat that decorated his forehead. it soaked into your hair. you could smell him now. you could feel his heavy breaths through his nose on your skin. the whine, the groan as well, they weren’t noises in response to pain. you felt it now that he’s shuffling in discomfort. you felt him, rock hard, hidden behind the fabric of his pants. he was just as affected as you. yet again, forgetting you couldn’t move, you squirmed again, this time your back arching a little more to test the waters. your hypothesis had been right as his head that was buried in your neck now craned backwards, hips lightly meeting yours as he let out another muffled groan. 

maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the cops had forgotten about you. 

spurred on by your hornyness and newfound confidence, you started to grind against him. his head that he threw back now shot back into where it was tucked into the place where your neck and shoulder met, and if his lips weren’t taped, you might have felt his soft lips press against your skin. his warm breath tickled your skin as you continued to move against his body, his hips now mirroring your actions. as you both desperately grinded against each other, you felt and heard his breaths grow more erratic. you could tell he wanted more the way his hips began to thrust at your backside as if he was in you. and how badly you wanted him to be. as time went on, he only grew more greedy and impatient with the way he humped against you. there was a dull thump every time his hips met yours causing you to let out an almost too dramatic whine. you weren’t quite sure what happened, but in that moment you heard a snap from behind you. somehow Han had managed to break the zip-ties that held his hands together and you knew that the way his hands immediately flew to your hips. next came the sound of him ripping the tape from his mouth. it almost sounded painful, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on that fact as you heard his deep voice purr against your ear, 

“you… dirty little thing,” his hands squeezed the flesh of your hips as he pressed his crotch sharply against your butt, “we were taken hostage and you still have it in you to tease me like a slut?” the lange hands that help you started scrunching up the material of your skirt even further, practically making it a belt as it rested around you waist, “look at you… should have known when you came to work in this tiny little thing,” and you were happy that he noticed, “if we hadn’t been taken, maybe i would have had my way with you in the storage closed. god knows how long i’ve wanted to.” he sucks in a breath against the shell of your ear, “sucks that this is how it finally happens, but i’m not complaining. gotta admit it's awfully cute seeing you all tied up like this. was thinking about being a gentleman and helping you out of these, but i think i really like seeing you struggle,” he murmurs, playing with the zip-ties on you. 

his hands wrap around your torso to hold you close, and for a moment, he pauses, “gotta know if you really want this though…,” you couldn’t see him, but you could hear the sincerity in his words, “if you want to keep going nod, but if you want me to stop kick me… or something. we can pretend this never happened if that's the case.”

you barely gave him the time to finish speaking and you were frantically nodding your head, whining desperately at the same time. he chuckled, “i figured. just had to ask, but with how wet you are,” he reaches down to feel your soaking panties, he groans, “i could have easily assumed. felt it through my pants ya know?”

you let out an embarrassed whine, squirming a little in his hold, “aw, don’t be shy. do you not feel how hard you make me? heh, i got pretty embarrassed too. couldn’t help it though… the way your cute little butt felt against me, i was losing my mind. i always lose my mind around you if i’m being honest…" Han didn’t give you much time to process what he just said as his slender fingers peeled the fabric of your panties to the side and plunged two digits into your sopping hole. you moaned out loudly through your nose. you arched against him as han continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, and you could feel the dull ache due to your hands being tied, but the pleasure from han’s fingers made you forget any other sensation. 

“you like that?” he practically moaned into your ear. his hips moved in synchronization with his fingers, every time his rock hard bulge pressed into you, he shoved his fingers deep into you. maybe he was possibly more desperate than you based on the way it seemed he was nearly cumming in his pants just by fingering you. because he was the only one not restrained by tape over his mouth, his throaty whines were loud and clear. and of course he was reaching places deeper in your hole that you have never discovered before, you should have known from all the times you have stared at his long fingers at work, imagining them inside you the way they are now. juices gushed down not just his fingers, but his hand as he sped up his ministrations. the warm, musky smell of it now suffocating the both of you.

“god i want to taste you so bad. eat out all of that cream you’re soaking my hand with,” you moan in response, “always wondered how good you taste. i’ll save it for next time. maybe in the breakroom? eat you instead of that gnarly cafeteria food?”

the thin layer of moisture that coated your skin was not forming little beads of sweat as it began to drip down you. your body jerked against him and he could tell you were getting close. his fingers curled and you let out an impossibly high pitched sound. 

“almost there baby?” he urged. he was now slightly propped up on his elbow as he dug somehow deeper into you. you could see his shoulder flex as he pumped brutally into you. your head craned back into his chest as more sounds released from you, “yeah? yeah? c’mon little thing, wanna see you drench me.” that was about all it took, his filthy yet delicious words, and you jolted. you came almost silently, you couldn’t even warn him as you pulsed around his hand. he held you body tightly to him as you jerked through your orgasm, “mmm there it is… yeah. fuck- god y-you’re so tight…” you sucked in a gasp as he worked you through your release, his fingers now overstimulating you and there was no way of telling him to slow down. you whine, as a way of telling him it was becoming too much, but he didn’t relent.

“is to too much baby? mmh one more please? we got time,” han coaxed in your ear, “one more and i’ll fuck you. please, please baby? wanna feel that little pussy clench one more time around my fingers.”

it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice anyways, but the way his words cooed into your ear and his undeniable skill, you weren’t really complaining much. you melted into him, trying your best to let him have his way with you. you couldn’t help the little jolts from overstimulation every now and then, but han was too blind with lust to even acknowledge it. he simply held you tight and continued to fuck you with his fingers. the way he moaned into your hair was as if he could feel what you were feeling himself. 

“f-fuck… c’mon baby, give it to me before i cream my pants… mmm please…” he was begging you now. his voice drenched in lust and desperation. if you weren’t close already, the way he twisted his hand and pressed against your mound added just the right amount of pressure to clit, to make you see white once again. 

“yes… oh yes baby give it to me,” he let out. your combined breath was shaky as he retracted his hand to lick his fingers clean. once again he moaned loudly as if he just orgasmed just by tasting you, “just as delicious as i imagined,” he chuckled, pulling you close to him and turning you over on your side to face him, “i’ll try not to be greedy and ask for another one.” he smiles at you, his little heart shaped grin melting your heart. to emphasize his statement, he gives you a little tease by pinching your clit, making you jump. your eyes squeeze shut, “heh… sorry, you’re just… so cute.” the last words coming out breathy, “god i just have to-”

with that he begins to peel off the tape covering your lips. it should have been more painful, but it could matter less with the way you were yearning for his mouth. it seemed as if he felt the same way with the way your lips smashed together after not even a moment to breathe. han’s tongue shoved into your throat as he devoured you, hands idly crawling up your body to hold you jaw, large thumbs resting on your cheeks as he maneuvered your head to match his kisses. you wanted to mirror him but you were still restrained behind your back. han looked down at where your hands were struggling and pulled away from the kiss. 

“oh.. heh,” he chuckled, “i uhm… don’t have scissors or anything. guess you gotta stay like that it seems.” 

“oh for sure, han,” you spoke your first words to him since being trapped in this car, “is that how you got out of yours too?” you questioned, incredulously. 

“guess he didn’t tie me well,” he grinned, clearly lying between his teeth. 

there was no response. instead, han pulled you back into him as he lifted your leg to wrap over his waist. all you could do was watch and lick your lips as he unzipped his fly. you wanted to be the one to free his hard cock, finally feel it for yourself, but yet again you were reminded about the stupid zip-ties holding you back. perhaps you’ll get him back for this someday. 

barely pulling his pants down, han finally pulled his cock out. his hands pulled your face again and once more continued to make out with you. your tongues fought hard against each other inside your warm mouths, and without warning you felt han line himself up with your hole. you felt him start to slowly inch in as he pressed his lips on you harder, as if to try to distract you. it felt as if he was never ending as he slowly slid in, already hitting your limit when you look down to see he’s only halfway in. he scoffs, “you can fit the rest in right?” han teases. you both knew you were going to. it was how long he would give you to adjust. you knew he was an impatient man though, so it was no surprise when he pushed the remainder of him a little too quickly. you felt filled to the brim, moaning out a stifled, slightly pained sound.

“alright baby? sorry… i couldn’t wait… had to be inside you,” his stilled, letting you adjust as his hands petting the back of your head as if to sooth you. his lips found your neck and began to bite and suck in the meanwhile, “you’ve been so good to me, baby. take your time, lemme know when you’re ready, yeah?” 

after only a few moments you felt ready. or at least that was what you convinced yourself, growing too impatient as well, the need for him growing too strong. 

“please move,” you sighed into the top of his head as he buried himself into creating dark hickeys across your neck. he smiled at you again. you could never get enough of his little grin. such a sweet smile he had, you couldn’t imagine it was worn by the same man who now started to pound your brains out in the back of a musty sedan after a botched hostage situation. 

han was all over you, his hands and lips roaming all over your body as he fucked you, and you would have reciprocated if you could, but you simple took it, everything he poured out to you through his actions. at this point you were drenched in each other’s sweat, the heat from the tiny space now catching up with you, but you could care less. you couldn’t care less in the same way you began to hear sounds right outside the car in the back of your mind. neither of you paid much attention to it, simply too caught up in each other to hear the loud clank and jolt of the car. han’s moans blocked out all the sounds from the outside world as his hips non-stop thrusted against you. you could deal with whatever was happening outside after you both came. 

“close, han” you mewled

“me too… come with me?” it was almost too easy for you to let go, already far gone from han’s prep barely an hour ago. the two of you hit your highs simultaneously. but in that moment, you felt the vehicle you were in tip upwards. right as han’s load shot into you, the both of you began to slide all the way to the back of the trunk. you landed on him, bodies smushed against each other from the momentum, but at least you both managed to come before it happened. it took you a moment, but you both regained your breathing and returned to normal. you looked at each other, your pupils dilated as you stared into him. 

“did they just…” he blinked, “tow the car with us in it?”

[sunnyswide]

Sorry for the long break (stuff and lots of more stuff)

2nd part here

Part 3 of my Murderer 141 🔪 x kidnapped reader (Final part :D)

This is smut ladies and gentlemen ;) Sexual and non-con activities up ahead!!

You wish you could say you saw this coming, but instead, your hands were tied and your mouth gagged in the back of a moving vehicle.

Tears spill from your dazed eyes as they stain the random clutter surrounding you. you wanted to scream, thrash around, try your best to escape but your head throbbed with a pounding sensation. Each bump on the road made you jump, the clutter sliding around.

You look for anything, a sharp tool or edge to rip at the meticulously tied rope but nothing. it was just pieces of cardboard, a few small duffel bags, empty plastic storage containers, and the fresh smell of bleach.

Finally, you feel the car stop, the sounds of muffled footsteps on breaking sticks closing in. You shut your eyes, rubbing the tears against the sandpaper-textured trunk floor. The door opens, the light piercing past your eyelids and making you twitch.. did they see it?

"good afternoon love"

Price flicked his fingers against your cheek. obviously, he saw.

"Now if I untie you.. you promise you won't run?"

He chuckled, pulling the gag out of your mouth.

You watch him intently. Should you agree and make a run for it or just stay silent? Would you even outrun him?

"I won't run.."

He smiles.. that innocent ol' smile you trusted so much. He grabbed your quivering hands in his, untying the rope nice and slowly. Letting you adjust your wrist and stretch out your arms. You sit on the edge of the car trunk, peering over his large torso at the surrounding area. A thick pattern of pine trees extends to the edge of your sight everywhere. Not a single sign or post, the trail wasn't even paved out. The smell of nature was intoxicating, making you scrunch your face at how strong your senses seemed to repulse at the air.

Or maybe it was the bleach mixing in with everything.

Price watches your eyes search for freedom and humanity but nothing. He watches as hope escapes your dilated little pupils.

Oh how he wished he could keep you for himself, a frightened little deer in headlights, a lost animal in the freezing rain. His lost little pet.

"Done looking?"

You look up at him, your body trembling, some part of you knowing no one will come and save you. They made sure of it.

You nod your head silently, letting him guide you to wherever. Running was futile, the sun was slowly setting behind the trees casting decrepit shadows across the ground. You follow him to a wooden manor, something you think you'd see in every slasher. He opens the door, stepping aside for you to step in first. Ladies first right?

You walk in slowly, the wooden planks making a low creak with every movement. At some point, you thought of what they would do next. torture you? starve you? play cat and mouse till you tire out and wither away? Fucking hell you were scared, getting kidnapped and dumped into a "Nowhere forest".

"Scared?"

Price places a hand on your shoulder, leaning down into your ear, grabbing at your waist with his other. His touch is colder.. rougher than ever before. You let out a small gasp, titling your head up against him. Play it cool.. play it cool... your heart was racing, and sure as hell he felt it.

"fuck you.." You whimper out, trying to pry his hands away from you.

You were certain they'd kill you... tear your heart out and eat it like demons. Right?

"You'll be the one doing that for me Love"

He pushes you against the wall, your back arched perfectly as you yelp in pain before his hands grip tightly around your neck.

"That right.. scream for me Doll"

He tugs down your skirt along with your panties, letting them drop down to the floor. You squirm against his hold but to no avail. You hated it.. you hated it... But your body was screaming the opposite.

"Don't worry... I'll prepare you"

Price spits on his calloused fingers, rubbing them along your stomach down to your cunt. Stopping when he realizes how soaked you were. ".. You're enjoying this?" He let go of your neck.

He smeared your juices against your folds, Fucking hell you were dripping. He pushed one finger in with ease, listening to the sweet gushing sounds your pussy made. And another.. spreading his fingers apart inside of you.

".. just fingering your sweet little cunt got you dripping like this love"

You moaned, your body betraying your thoughts. You didn't want this! You..You didn't!

He stopped abruptly like he knew what you were thinking.

"n.o" you squeal out. He smiles letting his fingers sink slowly into you.

You look up at him, desperation coating your eyes as you begin to bounce up and down his fingers. Your hands landed on either of his shoulders, quicking the pace of your hips.

"Price... move.." You beg him through pathetic moans. His fingers were drenched in your wetness, your gummy walls desperately needing to be stretched.

"Fucking whore.."

He slips his fingers out quickly replacing it with his achingly hard cock. You squeal as he slams into you, completely bottoming out in one swift thrust. Tears stream down your face as he plows into you, jackhammering himself into your little entrance.

You wrap your legs around him, making him penetrate himself even deeper.

"Little.. Slut"

He breathes out with each thrust, reaching an all-time new high for him. Being the gentle trusting Price for so long, he finally let himself loose. You were sure he came in you.. white puddles of his warm cum coating his Dick. But he kept at it, somehow.. pounding you harder like his life depended on it.

"Price!.. S-Stop!" You choked out between hiccuped moans and screams.. you felt yourself losing consciousness. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against the red of your ass over and over, his hands bruising the fat of your hips.

His thrust became sloppy.. and rushed full of need before finally releasing even more of his cum inside of you. With a few final thrusts, he stopped but refused to take himself out of you.

"geez.. what a show"

Simon leaned against the, his hands crossed. you look over in horror and embarrassment forgetting there were three more.

The front door creaked opened.

"Yo! We're hom-"

Gaz just stared dropping his duffel bag as Soap peered over him. They stayed silent before smiling at Price who finally seemed to come to his senses.

"My turn" (soap and Simon)

"My Turn

"Fuck off I'm not done"

[god-i-hope-so]

When he comes home, Buck lets his duffel bag fall on the floor just next to the door. Tommy turns around, leaving his tools on the kitchen island. They knocked a bedside lamp down the day before, breaking something in it, and he promised Buck to try and repair it.

"I think it's going-"

Then Tommy sees Buck's defeated look, his sorry face, his shoulders low, he knows this posture.

"How did you do it?" asks Buck, shaking his head. "He's a fucking piece of work".

Tommy walks up to him, his right hand gently grabbing Buck's forearm before taking his hand.

"I wasn't at my best at the time, remember? You struggle because you're nothing like him. I was trying to hide. And I did it pretty well. Too well."

"Yeah, I don't know if I can do it."

Buck closes the space between them, his forehead falling on Tommy's shoulder.

"Or I'll do something I'll regret."

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, sequel to this post.

TW: child abuse.

Steve doesn’t have much. Eddie had made them a list of things to grab before they’d headed over to the Harrington house, a list of clothes, toiletries, basics and such, with “shampoo” underlined and “bowling pin” circled. They’d borrowed an extra duffel from Marianne across the way, since they didn’t know if trash bags would be enough, and thank god they had, kid sure had a polo collection. But moving it all out of that place - nice car parked yet nobody home, they found, blood still on the carpet - and seeing it stacked up next to Eddie’s exploding menagerie were two different things. And it just seemed to Wayne, well, when Steve was up for it, maybe they’d go to the thrifty mart together.

Steve is quiet, on account of the pain he felt moving his face and the shyness he had shrunken into, having been quickly and sharply beaten and disowned and then thrust into a new life, a new space. Wayne knew it was different, going from a frequent guest who got to put on the charm to a hurting ball of need. To feel like a burden. He saw the same thing happen to Eddie, when he was a child; he changed from an energetic ragamuffin who’d visit Wayne once every couple months to a sad, angry teen who he had to figure out how to live with. But it had worked out. And seeing how gently Eddie cleans Steve’s bruised face, how he changes his whole schedule to take care of Steve, how he cuts fruit for Steve, hearing Eddie whisper Steve to sleep, he thinks it will work out again.

Wayne learns a lot about Steve over the next couple of weeks. He learns how good a cook Steve is, how good he is at making scrambled eggs, tuna melts. How his hair is a source of pride but also seems to show off how he’s doing, like it’s connected to his mood. Some days it’s sky-high and some days it’s flat until Eddie starts whistling up the walk. Wayne loves watching Steve’s hair puff up, his smile grow, and Eddie seems to do the trick. Wayne learns just about every shirt he has is striped, that he can’t hear that well on his left side, that he likes his toast burnt to a crisp.

One morning, a couple weeks after Steve becomes his second duckling, they’re both up early in the kitchen waiting for Eddie to rise. Steve is making bacon and pork sausage, shuffling the meat around and shuffling himself around, like he’s scared to say something. Finally Wayne says “what is it, son?” And Steve starts to cry, one slow beautiful tear down each cheek. He’s been looking better, lately, seeming brighter, but he’s still been holding his breath. It’s time to exhale.

“Thank you. For saving me,” Steve moves the pan to the back burner, meat cooked, looking away. Wayne turns the stove off, and folds Steve into his arms, chuckling. Steve smells like Eddie. Steve smells like Wayne’s tobacco.

“Ain’t no thing about it, boy,” Wayne whispers to Steve, trembling and clutching the spatula. “You’re safe. You’re family.” And he pulls away before he goes softer himself, coughs, turns the stove back on for Steve’s eggs. A small little smile creeps up on Steve’s lips, still shy but an agreement nonetheless. He’s home, making breakfast for those that love him. And later, they’ll go thrifting, get Steve a thicker winter coat, more kitchen tools, some striped pajamas.

[seraaphism]

post s2 pds!

rambling under the cut :)

i like to imagine vyncent looks more and more like a summer camp counselor the longer hes on prime so thats what i was aiming for here lol but he IS constantly prepared to pull his knife out on anyone! and carries it with him everywhete + has other weapons in discreet places. he has a lot of random magical objects and things in his bag and pockets. i also imagine he wears a lot of jewelry from fauna.

dakota is dakota but a lot more casual than what i imagine he wears in season 2. he'd likely wear actual pants when doin hero things tho, but when hes js chillin its full adam sandler mode. baggy shirts and shorts ALL THE WAY for this guy

i feel like williams body changed a lot after being revived. like yeah the hair but i also like to imagine that he has blue wispy scars showing all of the ways he died in the past (including the surgery probably. plus i hc he has autopsy scars but ANYWAY). after deadwood he probably threw out that duffel bag and uses his backpack for all of his ghosty tools now! and soends most of his time travelling between their base and the whispering woods so he has a pretty versatile fit. the smart watch is just so he doesnt have to pull out his phone if hes doin mystery stealth things yk.

and i didnt draw ashe but i WILL!

[thedegu]

Tag yourself, what you bring when you go out:

Bard: Alongside the necessities, you always bring either a musical instrument and/or a full makeup set. You never know when a party might start! Your bag is either $2 or $200. You make it work either way. Essentials? eh, if they're in there, they're in there.

Barbarian: phone wallet keys. Pants have pockets for a reason. If you're feeling spicy, you'll have a multi tool on your Keychain

Cleric: At LEAST one first aid kit, two lip balms snacks and drinks, bug spray and sunscreen for you freinds who forgot to put it on. Your purse weighs as much as a neutron star, but at least it's cute!

Druid: same as cleric, but you, instead of a purse, use one of those huge reusable grocery bags. More emphasis on snacks than the first aid kit (someone else will probably have that coveted, right?) But you might also have some loose dog treats in the bottom of your bag, so pay attention when snacking.

Fighter: You carry a backpack or over-the-shoulder duffel, but your phone wallet and other essentials are kept in your pockets because it's easier to access. What do you keep in your bag? Well, at least one knife and assorted tools and emergency supplies. You keep on forgetting to put in that first aid kit, but then you'd probably need to take out that 75 piece screwdriver kit, which, tbh is more useful in more situations.

Rainger: Look, you HAVE a bag, or... had one... you just leave it at home more often than you remember it. Look, you don't really need your phone when you're on a hike, right? And the trail mix in your pocket should be enough, too. Or you have a fanny pack that is more akin to a benign tumor. There is no in between.

Rogue: Just.... so many pockets. Like, sewing extra pockets into the inside of your jacket. Like "How did you fit that sub sandwich inside of there" pockets. Like you somehow have all of the tools you need for any reason on your person at any time without a bag amount of pocket. When you're fully suited up, your clothes work as a weighted blanket. It's honestly impressive and slightly terrifying.

Paladin: Like.... a bag?? Over the shoulder with RFID protection. Nothing too fancy either, phone, wallet, keys. Snacks and a small tube of sunscreen and maybe a hand warmer in the winter. Just get the job done, if you need something more you'll take it when you need it.

Wizard: You got the backpack on sale. That's what matters to you. Never mind how it makes your back hurt or that it's falling to pieces. It holds your books and laptop and.... ah, hm, everything else you need. Oh! It does have a cool wallet compartment... just let me... oh, it's so hard to get to give me one second... really, I do have the cash for this coffee. I swear one... oh, there goes my thesaurus.

Warlock: bags are meant as a fashion statement over their utility. Yeah, I can only fit my phone or my wallet in it, but I look good doing it, so what does it matter. Black is always in season, and so are chunky boots and spiked collars. Well it's not like you'll be going out without your freinds, you might as well have them hold your things, they honestly shouldn't trust you with your own credit cards anyway so it's a win-win

Sorcerer: You have one of those electronic bags that fallows you, and you've never looked back. Yes, it might be risky. Yes, taking a full luggage bag everywhere is a bit excessive. But if it does get stolen, the glitter bomb inside will make everything worth it. Hm? Where do you keep essentials? Oh, front pants pocket and brest pocket nbd.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.18

Summary: Wednesday goes with you to visit your family. It's loud, it's chaotic, it's ridiculous, they're too accepting, it's all just too much. And the worst part? She almost enjoys it.

Word Count: 10.7k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of grief Pairing: Wednesday x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07

Wednesday was starting to regret agreeing to meet your family.

You had called them that next morning, going outside to talk for what ended up being three whole hours. She had watched you pace the yard, lay on the grass, kick rocks, and use your wings to hover above the ground for short spans of time. How you managed to stay on the phone for that long, she had no earthly idea. But then you came in and said they were more than happy for her to visit for two weeks, and everything was set.

After packing, she was sitting in the library waiting for you to get back. You had made one more weekend trip to see Nicky before going further South where it would be more difficult to make the trip. It was admirable how you always found a way to see him no matter how far away you were.

And now you were back, practically jogging to the car with the bags and talking as if your life depended on it. Maybe to you it did. Or was it your nerves taking over and not giving anyone time to argue or disagree? Whatever it was, you seemed excitedly nervous.

You had tried to convince them to take the train, but Wednesday wasn’t having it. Take the train down, then we’ll head to the bus, then Tio will pick us up from the bus station, you had said. The entire Addams family had let you know that it wasn’t necessary, Lurch could drive you both down. It was simpler that way. It took a bit of convincing but you reluctantly agreed.

The closer you got to your house, the more nervous you got. Your incessantly shaking leg was almost enough to rock the whole car when it would pull up to stops. There was a tuneless hum that started to pick up as time went on. In what turned out to be the final stretch, Wednesday noticed you even started to pick at your fingers. A nasty habit, really.

“You can stop down here,” you said to Lurch before he could get the car started up a dirt path. “It’s easier to walk.”

Wednesday gave you a look, but you just shrugged and gave her a hesitant smile. She hoped you knew she wasn’t questioning your motives, just the fact that it appeared that there would be a hike to your house. Would it not be better to drive up?

“Your ancient car will get stuck,” you said when  you practically shoved Wednesday out of the car. “I can grab the bags.”

And grab them you did, slinging your duffel bag over your shoulder before picking up Wednesday’s suitcase. You leaned over and gave an enthusiastic “Bye, Lurch!” before watching the car pull away. Only once it was out of sight did she feel you reach down and grab her hand. Not intertwining your fingers, but simply holding it and leading her up the dirt path.

“They know not to hug,” you said, “but Pop and Grandpa might still reach out for a handshake.” The path got steeper. “And Tio might still go for a hug, he doesn’t really listen.” How did any of you traverse this path regularly?

You continued to talk as you led her further up the path that was becoming more and more surrounded by trees. Pretty soon the branches covered the path, creating almost an archway until she could see a house in the distance. A log cabin, more accurately. It sat in the middle of a clearing along with a few smaller buildings; a barn and what looked to be two or three tool sheds. The path continued to a crooked gate, and you let go of her hand to open it and usher her in before closing it behind you.

“Don’t mind the dogs,” you said as you gestured your head over to the right. Yes, there within another contained fence were three dogs that looked bigger than her. “We’re pet-sitting for the neighbours.” It was impressive that they weren’t barking.

Oh, if only your family was as well behaved.

The front screen door of the house was thrown open with such force it nearly shook off its hinges. Instinctively, Wednesday took a step back and you quickly maneuvered yourself slightly in front of her, just enough to be a barrier. She was not prepared for the amount of voices or people that came out of a cabin that did not look big enough to hold them all.

“You’re here!” A small voice screamed.

You dropped both bags and stepped forward with outstretched arms which were almost instantly filled with two young children with matching tight curly hair. They giggled as you squeezed them tight, alternating kisses on their cheeks. The rest of your family was close behind as you set the children down.

“She’s real?!” The oldest girl said in an accented voice. Australian, maybe.

“I told you,” the oldest boy retorted with a smirk. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“I think she’s pretty,” a younger girl said with a smile in Wednesday’s direction. She had almost forgotten how unsettling little kids could be.

“So does Y/N,” the last boy said with a smirk.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you cut in quickly, taking your place in front of Wednesday once again. She noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Pace yourselves.”

“Sorry,” they all mumbled.

Wednesday listened dutifully as you introduced everyone; it was overwhelming, to say the least. There were too many people, too many names, too many things to keep track of. Part of her wondered why it even mattered if she met all of them or remembered who they were. Sure, they were your family, but they clearly weren’t your blood.

But as she watched your face, saw your toothy smile and sparkling eyes and heard your laugh, she realised it didn’t matter. They were your family whether they were blood or not. And truthfully, you had met her family, as large as it was. You had met as many extended family members as you could at the Addams’ Ball a few months ago. Surely she could meet the few people that you called family.

“Go take these inside,” you said, handing the duffel bag and the suitcase to… Alex and Daniel? Possibly? “Be very careful with Wednesday’s bag.”

“But not yours?” The younger boy - Daniel? - asked with a smile.

“Get inside,” you huffed, using your hands to guide all the children back inside.

A sigh fell from your lips once the kids were far enough away. Wednesday didn’t know how to describe it, but you looked tired already. Not in a bad way, you didn’t look sad, but there was a weariness on your face. Almost as if you looked older, a little more worn.

“Welcome home, baby,” an older woman said in a Southern accent as she walked closer and pulled you into a hug. You practically towered over her when you hugged her back.

“Hey Momma,” you said before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine, baby bird,” she said with a smile, pulling back. “Lovely to finally meet you, Miss Addams.”

“You as well,” Wednesday said. It was awkward, a little unusual to be called Miss Addams so casually.

"I'm sorry it's so crazy," your mother continued while wiping her hands off on an apron tied around her waist. "Y/N told us you weren't big on touch. The kids will settle down in a day or two."

"It's quite alright-"

“-Where is mi pollito?” A man called out, and Wednesday saw your brows furrow as you let out a huff before being bearhugged by a man almost as tall as you. He must be your Tio. “You look terrible, what happened?”

“I came to visit your sorry ass,” you mumbled back, but Wednesday could see the smallest smile on your face. “Do you know how exhausting that is?”

“Behave,” another man’s voice called out, thick and slow and almost painfully Southern. Much thicker than your mother’s. He gave her a toothy grin; even though he was missing a few. “Nice ta meet ya, Wensdy.”

“Pop,” you said with a sigh after noticing what was most likely confusion on Wednesday’s face.

“What?” He said. “That’s how ya say it, ain’t it?” You both smiled at each other.

"You know it's not," you replied quietly.

"Did she prepare you for this?" Your father asked her, to which she shook her head. No, you hadn’t prepared her for this, not in the slightest. "Figures," he tsked.

“Where’s everybody else?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“Inside,” your Tio said. “Abuelita is making tamales and C is bossing her around.”

“Lord help us,” your mother said with an exhausted sigh. “Everyone inside before they kill each other.”

The adults walked back to the house, leaving you and Wednesday standing in the yard. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. That was far too much all at once, far too many people. How did you live like this? How did you manage to keep yourself sane when there were so many people around at all times?

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, “I told them not to come out all at once.”

You almost looked guilty. Was this what you had talked to them about for so long the other week? She almost hoped not, that meant you cared. It meant you cared a lot and took her preferences into account. That was terrifying. To know that you cared enough to tell your entire family to be careful. It was almost painful, really.

“Do you need a minute?” You asked when Wednesday stayed silent. “It’s crazy inside, so we can sit outside for a minute if you need to.”

What she needed was for you to stop being so considerate, it was becoming uncomfortable. Yes she wanted a minute, that was a lot of people. But she didn’t want you to think she couldn’t handle it. She was an Addams, she could handle anything that was put in front of her.

“Let’s go,” she said before grabbing your hand.

For safety, of course.

"Okay then,” you chuckled softly, dragging her to the house and through the screen patio door. "Buckle up, Addams."

You were right. It was absolute chaos inside. The small entry hallway had seemed normal with framed photographs lining the wall - she noticed a few with you in it, you looked young - but once you brought her to the main room, she understood what you meant. Children’s toys littered the floor, she could hear everyone talking, sounds were coming from the kitchen that was connected to the main room.

It was too loud, and too much, and everything all at once.

“Try not to trip,” you said as you pulled her again, heading to the open kitchen. She did her best to step over the toys. Something cracked when she stepped down; she hoped it wasn't broken.

“Be careful,” Daniel said; he was sitting on the couch with his nose in a book. “Abuelita is on the warpath.”

“Great,” you mumbled, “she better behave.”

When you finished pulling her into the kitchen, she noted almost all the adults were there, plus a few she hadn’t seen yet. A man that looked practically ancient - possibly older than Grandmama - was standing near the counter with a grin. His fangs were prominently displayed when he laughed. Then there was a woman that looked a little older than your father. Her black skin and stunningly coiled hair matched the twins; it must be your Auntie C. Then there was the old Mexican lady arguing with your aunt while expertly preparing tamales.

Your Abeulita, of course.

“Welcome home, puișor,” your grandfather called from across the kitchen in yet another accented voice, silencing everyone that had previously been talking. “And it's a pleasure to meet you, Wednesday."

“About time,” your aunt said with a sigh, “Abuelita needs some help.” She stopped for just a second to look at Wednesday with raised brows and a knowing smirk. "Well, aren't you cute."

“Why can't you help?” You shot back before Wednesday could question the comment. Tio laughed from his spot at the table where he was also helping with tamales.

“If I help, I’m gonna kill someone,” she answered before looking over at Wednesday. “You’re Latina, you can help too.”

“C.”

“Watch it,” you and your father reprimanded together.

“Am I wrong?” She asked.

“You can’t just say that.”

“Who says I can’t?”

“She just got here-”

“-That’s enough!” Your father shouted again, bringing yours and your aunt’s argument to a sudden halt. “C, take a hike,” he said in a calmer voice, “Y/N, help your Abuelita.” Your aunt sighed and walked past Wednesday to get to the living room.

“I was hoping he would do that,” she whispered to Wednesday before laughing and walking away. You pulled Wednesday over to the table, gave your Abuelita a kiss on the cheek, and everyone got to work.

Oh, Wednesday liked your aunt. If that was who she was going to get to interact with the entire trip, this was going to be fun. Someone who also liked to raise hell, question authority, do as she wished. It was a stark contrast to you who, even though you very much did all of those things, you still obeyed, you desired that approval. It was beyond evident in the way you preened when any of the adults told you “good job” or any sort of positive verbal reinforcement.

From her spot at the table, she was right in front of your Tio and right beside your Abuelita. Your Abuelita and Tio showed her how to make the tamales, and she had to hold her laughter in when they refused to teach you in English. She caught on quickly and started talking to them in Spanish, which got another rise out of you.

"You know I don't know all of those words," you huffed after Abuelita explained precisely how to do the next step. In Spanish, of course.

Abuelita only laughed in response, and Tio gave Wednesday a wink when she met his eyes. She liked them, she decided. Liked the casual way they went about the chaos, picking and choosing when to interact with others, more often than not just minding their own business. It was respectable. It helped keep her heart from jumping up her throat in anxiety.

Dinner was an entirely different affair altogether and Wednesday, for what would be the first of many instances during the trip, was unsure of what to do. After all the prep, all the nonstop, loud talking, all the cooking, it was finally time to eat. Instead of everyone sitting at the table, they scattered. Grabbing their plates, getting their food, and going off to the living room or outside or wherever else they could find a space.

She sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and watched you while the chaos unfolded. Took note of the way you had Alysah on your hip with a plate in your hand, talking with her and getting her food. Then after placing her on the floor in the living room, you did the same with Jamie, even though he seemed far more talkative. You looked older when you were helping them. More responsible, even.

“What do you want?” You asked, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even seen you come over. “I’ll make your plate.”

“I’m not helpless,” Wednesday shot back; she noticed your aunt chuckle, clearly eavesdropping.

“I know, Wends,” you said with a slight uptick of your mouth, “now what do you want?”

She glared at you for a moment, waiting for you to take the offer back, but you didn’t. With a sigh, she told you, and you mouthed a “thank you” before standing back up and grabbing everything. This, she realised, is what you enjoyed. Being helpful, doing things for others. Where had you learned it? Where had you learned to be so selfless?

And how had you taken a liking to her, who lived quite selfishly?

The thought made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to eat when her stomach was rolling and she couldn’t stop feeling like you were one day going to realise she was the opposite of you. She wasn’t going to devote her life to helping others, she wasn’t going to be like her mother, that just wasn’t who she was.

Thankfully no one pointed out how little she had eaten.

Getting ready for bed was another affair entirely. After everyone had sat in the living room and talked and settled after dinner, it was time to get the kids to bed. Wednesday waited dutifully for you to show her where to go, feeling completely lost in the house. Your grandfather pulled you aside and talked to you for a moment and she noted the way he eyed her and, even though a smile pulled at his lips, he shook his head and you sighed.

“Try not to hate me,” you said when you walked back over to Wednesday, “but you’re bunking with Emily and Hailey.”

“And you?” She asked, doing her best to maintain her composure. Your sisters seemed kind, and she had roomed with Enid, she just… wasn’t sure how to interact with them.

“I’m on the couch,” you sighed. “Grandpa made it clear; no sharing rooms.”

“Because?” She asked with a raised brow.

“No sharing rooms with partners until you’re married,” you said with a shrug. “He’s old school.”

Wednesday nodded along before allowing you to grab her hand and lead her up the stairs. Part of her felt humiliated that your entire family could see you both holding hands; public displays of affection was not something she enjoyed. But the other part of her felt comfort that you were staying with her and making sure she didn't feel overwhelmed. Well, she did feel overwhelmed, but you were doing your best.

“You’ll be in my bed,” you said when you finally brought her to the room, and she almost felt right at home.

It gave off the same energy as Enid’s side of the dorm. Pinks and purples and rainbows covered the entire room. How did you manage to sleep in it? Bunk beds were on one wall while the other held a single bed covered in too many blankets. Clearly yours. Her suitcase was already sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’ll be on the couch downstairs if you need me, okay?” You said after everyone had brushed their teeth and gotten settled. “And the girls make great company.”

“It’s like a sleepover!” Emily shouted from the bottom bunk.

“You’ll pay for this,” Wednesday whispered to you before you walked out.

“Good luck,” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Good night, girls!”

“Good night!” They called back.

It was going to be a long night.

Your bed was too soft, it felt like she was going to sink through to the floor. The blankets were also too soft, and nowhere near as warm as you were. Not that she was cold, but for some unknown reason, it was unusual to be sleeping away from you. Maybe it was the fact that she was in your bed without you, she wasn’t sure.

Her eyes roamed your side of the room. There were two or three posters taped to the ceiling, bands that she didn’t know about. A few photos hung from a piece of string going across the wall over the bed, each one a photo of you with someone else. She couldn’t tell in the dark, but one looked like a photo of you and Nicky when you were younger.

Where had Nicky slept when he had come home? Did he sleep with Alex and Daniel the same way you roomed with Hailey and Emily? Or was it completely different? His presence, from what she had seen, was still littered throughout the house in picture frames. How had everyone else handled him being gone for so long?

The train of thought was going down a dangerous path, and Wednesday felt her heart starting to race again. Would your presence have been remembered the same way if you had been in his position? If that werewolf had hurt you worse than it had, would your family treat it the same? Would you be remembered in photographs that would hang on the walls?

She needed you before her mind started to convince her that you were the one gone, not Nicky.

Her brain raced with thoughts, planning how she could get away with you coming up, or her going down. She couldn’t simply forgo the rules your grandfather had laid out, it was clearly a well established one. No, there had to be a reason, something she could get away with.

Ah. She had a brilliant idea.

She waited just a moment, listening to the hushed, even breaths coming from your sisters before letting out a scream. Not too loud as to wake everyone else up, but for your sisters to also scream and wake up. She had to push down her smile when your sisters jumped out of bed.

“Are you okay?” Hailey asked as she practically fell onto the floor and padded over.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Emily asked, peeking over the side of the bunk bed.

“Yes,” Wednesday said, doing her best to make her voice sound sleepy. “It was a terrible nightmare.”

“I get those sometimes too,” Emily said.

“You should sleep with Y/N,” Hailey mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her accent was thicker when she was half-asleep.

“She makes the bad dreams go away,” Emily chimed in as she climbed down the ladder.

“Maybe you’re right,” Wednesday said, sitting up and planting her feet on the floor. “I suppose it’s worth a try.” She should have felt an ounce of guilt for using your sisters in her devious plan.

She didn't.

“Come on,” Emily said. Wednesday tried not to flinch when she felt a cold little hand grab her own. “We’ll take you to her.”

The entire house seemed to creak under the three sets of feet making their way down the carpeted hallway. Wednesday would need to learn where those spots were so she could avoid them over the next two weeks. Then down the carpeted stairs that squeaked every two steps; an easy pattern to memorise. One turn down the hall and there you were on the living room couch.

She was glad it was so dark because then your sisters would have seen her smile. You were completely sprawled out on the couch, the single blanket tangled around your legs, one of which was hanging off and the other was hoisted onto the back of the couch. An arm was also hanging off the couch while your other was over your head and your mouth was slightly open. She could hear your soft snores.

Hailey walked forward with a purpose while Emily continued to hold Wednesday’s hand. The older girl kicked your foot just once and your snore cut off quickly as you sat straight up. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were wide and unseeing.

“Who's hurt?” You asked immediately, trying to stand up. Your legs got stuck in the blanket around your legs and you fell to the ground. Hard. “Fuck.”

“No one is hurt,” Hailey said. She didn’t even bother helping you up to your feet.

“What happened?” You groaned as you managed to push yourself up, the blanket falling from around your waist and legs onto the floor. Wednesday turned her gaze away when she noticed you were only wearing boxers and a loose tank.

“Wednesday had a bad dream,” Emily said as she finally pulled Wednesday closer.

“Is that so?” You asked, your voice sounding more awake and your eyes seemingly searching into her soul. “A bad dream?”

“She screamed,” Hailey said.

“Screamed?” You asked, your eyes starting to crinkle at the corners.

“It was horrifying,” Wednesday said with a tilt of her head.

“Must have been,” you continued.

“I told her you scare off the bad dreams,” Emily said proudly.

“You’re right,” you said with a smile as you patted the top of her head. In turn, Emily gave Wednesday’s hand for you to hold. Thankfully you did. “Thank you for bringing her down.”

“Let’s go back to bed,” Hailey said, reaching her own hand out to Emily. “Good night.”

“Have good dreams, Wednesday,” Emily whisper-shouted before they rounded the corner and went back to their room.

“You screamed?” You asked after a few moments, turning to look at her. “Really?”

“I’ve been known to have nightmares on occasion,” she defended.

“You like nightmares,” you argued.

“It was exponentially more terrifying than normal.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you said quickly.

You fell back onto the couch, but your interlocked fingers caused her to fall down with you. With a skill that came from someone who regularly slept on the couch, you hooked your foot underneath the blanket and brought it back up. Your back was pressed against the back of the couch and Wednesday quickly fit herself to your position.

“Stop terrorising my sisters,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

“Would you prefer I terrorise your brothers?” She asked, to which you only chuckled.

“Good night, Wednesday.”

She didn’t verbally answer, just pulled your arm tighter around her and let herself drift off to sleep.

—---

The next few days went off without a hitch. Yes, everyone was still too loud and too much and there were just too many people in general, but it got easier. Emily was really the only one that was handsy with Wednesday, aside from you, and even that was simply holding hands. It was uncomfortable at first, but she quickly got used to it.

The adults in your family were kind as well. Your Tio made it a point to talk to her all the time, usually in Spanish, and even played a few songs on the guitar for her. All the younger kids did their dances, laughing to the music. That too was unusual for Wednesday, but it seemed like something that happened regularly in the house.

You had gotten a scolding from your grandfather once he realised Wednesday was sleeping down on the couch with you. She couldn’t hear the discussion, but could see the genuine attempt to persuade him. It didn’t appear to be working until Hailey cut in, telling her piece, and eventually your grandfather sighed and nodded.

She pretended not to notice you slip some cash into Hailey’s hand.

It was a change, a rather big one in fact, to live in a house where everyone had designated chores. Not that Wednesday was incapable or unwilling, but she had grown up with Lurch. Now she was helping you take care of the animals you were pet sitting, cleaning out the stable which was currently housing two horses, a dairy cow, and more than a handful of goats.

Those goats were the devil’s spawn, that’s what Wednesday believed.

“When are they leaving?” Wednesday asked when the grey goat - Steve - bumped into the back of her legs again.

“Steve is ours,” you said with a smile as you continued brushing one of the horses. “So he’s staying.”

“Of course he is,” Wednesday mumbled, turning to glare at Steve. He simply glared back before ramming into her leg.

It took everything in her power not to lock him in one of the stalls.

“Don’t mess with him,” you said, finally turning around. It was as if you had read her thoughts. “This is his house.”

“He needs to treat his guests better,” Wednesday grumbled again. She could feel him chewing on her shoelace. “The wrong person might turn him into dinner.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said with a glare as you put your tools back to their proper place. This, Wednesday realised, was one of the few places you stayed organised and everything was back in its proper place.

“One more chance,” she said.

Steve rammed the back of her knees, forcing her to stumble forward.

Oh, he was going to be dinner before she left this place.

Everyone in your family became increasingly casual as time went on. No more “Miss Addams,” no more watching what they said (although your aunt never did), no more niceties for the sake of being polite. They gave her separate chores from you, treated her no different than the other kids, even berated her if she argued with Alex. It was torturous.

“Kids in the car,” your father called out one afternoon while everyone was sitting on the ground playing Monopoly. Wednesday swore she had never seen such violence in her life. It was beautiful.

“Where are we going?” Alex asked as he happily swept everything off the board to a chorus of “heys” and “seriously?”

“Gotta pick somethin’ up in town,” he said, “figured y’all might want some ice cream.”

Both you and Wednesday flinched at the screams and cheers that came from everyone’s mouths. It died down quickly enough when your father ushered everyone outside. You took your time gathering the pieces of the game and putting it all away, your face entirely emotionless.

Wednesday knelt down to help you, using it more as an excuse to keep an eye on you than to actually help. The past week had given her plenty of time to learn some of your tells, and one of them was keeping your face neutral when something potentially triggering came up. She actually felt proud of herself for catching this one.

“You can fly and meet us there,” Wednesday offered. You didn’t look up, but she took note of the miniscule movement near the corner of your mouth.

“I’m good,” you said softly, “it’s a short trip.” The game was finally picked up and you turned your head to look at her with a closed-mouth smile. “But thank you.”

You didn’t give her a chance to reply before grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet, guiding her out of the house. A chorus of adults called out their “see ya laters” as the patio door swung shut. The older two were relaxed in the bed of the truck while the younger ones were buckled in safely in the cab.

“Hop in,” you said, pulling Wednesday’s hand to ease her into the bed of the truck with Alex and Hailey. It was uncomfortable climbing into it, but she managed and you were quick to follow suit.

You plopped yourself down and knocked on the back window three times, and off you went. All three of you looked far too relaxed and comfortable, as if this wasn’t your first time. Clearly it wasn’t, of course, but you couldn’t have made it more obvious.

On the other hand, Wednesday was surprisingly nervous. She had never ridden in the back of a truck before, hadn’t felt the wind blow her hair around or hear it rushing past her ears. The only thing keeping her sane was your arm wrapped tight around her back, holding her as close as you could without outright pulling her into your lap.

It was about a 25 minute drive into town; she had never realised you lived so far away from civilization. That must have been nice, it explained why you could have so many people in one house. She understood the desire to be away, her own family lived away from the hustle and bustle as well. 

You, Alex, and Hailey were all standing up and hopping out of the truck before it pulled to a complete stop; Wednesday wouldn’t admit it put a lump in her throat, but you seemed confident enough. Only once the truck was at a full stop did you reach out to help, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her out and back to the ground.

The warmth of your hands was comforting.

“Alright Big Bird, you’re in charge,” your father said as he handed you a small wad of cash. “I’ll meet y’all back here in half an hour.”

“Yes sir,” you said with a nod, and he started walking down the small sidewalk. “Alright team, buddy up and let’s go.”

Clearly this was something you all did often, because everyone seemed to move like a well oiled machine. Hailey and Alex stood near each other while you let one of the twins on your back while you carried the other. Emily and Daniel went to either side of Wednesday and grabbed each of her hands. It was difficult to fight the instinct to pull away.

“So we don’t get lost,” Emily said with a smile. Wednesday looked down at both of her linked hands before nodding once. It was sound logic, she supposed.

“Lead the way, Lex,” you called out, and the group started moving.

The little hands holding hers were warm, but nowhere near like yours. Although she would admit, she was getting disgustingly accustomed to it at this point. Before you, she would have found this whole trip unnecessary. Your buddy system, your carrying the twins, going for ice cream, the whole thing. But everyone was smiling and talking and you looked almost peaceful as you listened to the twins ramble about one thing or another.

She supposed it wasn’t all that bad.

“Hey Johnson clan,” the kid behind the counter called out when everyone walked into the small ice cream parlor. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Bo,” you answered as you set the twins on the floor. “How ya been?”

“Not too bad,” he - Bo - said with a smile. “The usual?”

“That’d be great,” you said, and Bo nodded once before getting started on whatever “the usual” was. “Get settled, I'll bring it over."

Wednesday let everyone lead her to a booth near the window - rather similar to the booth she frequented at the Weathervane - as she watched you approach the counter. You talked to Bo, casually leaning against the counter while he worked. There must have been some sort of acquaintanceship there for you to act so nonchalant. Did you smile at her like that when she wasn't watching?

"Uh oh," Daniel said.

The whole group turned their heads when the bell above the door rang. Three high schoolers walked in, one girl and two boys. Their overly flashy jackets were enough to give Wednesday a migraine, but what caught her attention was the way your body froze when you caught the girl's eye. Who was she, Wednesday wondered.

"That's Ash," Daniel said aloud. How had he known her thoughts? "Y/N's ex."

Oh. Instead of the usual rushing of her pulse where you were concerned, her heart now felt frozen. You had never mentioned an ex, at least not to her. Wednesday supposed she was pretty, though quite the opposite of herself. More boisterous, obnoxiously bubbly, like she wanted to be Enid but could never pull it off. How had your taste changed so drastically, because Wednesday was nothing like that girl.

What were you doing to her? Now you had her comparing herself to someone else? She was going to have a serious talk with you about this.

“What are they saying?” Hailey asked, doing her best not to stare at you and the small group surrounding you.

“I read minds, not lips,” Daniel huffed. Of course, Wednesday thought. That makes sense.

“Then what are they thinking?” Hailey asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Nosey,” Alex mumbled.

Wednesday kept her mouth shut because, quite frankly, she wanted to know too. Although she hid her curiosity by pretending to watch Emily and the twins colour on the papers on the table. She had no idea what they were drawing, but they seemed to be having fun. It gave her a certain warmth in her chest.

She blinked once at the revelation.

Oh damn you.

“Ash thinks she’s pretty,” Daniel said. He wasn’t looking up, instead drawing his own picture. Meanwhile, you looked uncomfortable as your foot tapped the ground and you kept shifting weight from leg to leg.

“Ew,” Emily grumbled. Everyone failed at hiding their smiles, even Wednesday couldn’t help herself. But only for a moment before she was back to her usual demeanor.

“One of the meatheads thinks she’s pretty too.” Now that was infuriating. If there hadn’t been children around, Wednesday might have had something to say.

“And the other one?” Alex asked. He was eying the whole group carefully, as if he was prepared to jump in at any point. “The one looking at us?” That same one said something, and your eyes flitted over to where everyone was sitting at the table.

“He thinks Wednesday is pretty,” Daniel said with a disgusted frown.

“He needs to keep his eyes to himself,” Hailey practically growled. She sounded like Enid. “Before I claw them out-”

“-She’s gonna kill him.”

Everyone froze for a split second before their heads turned to look at the group once again. Wednesday could see how tightly your jaw was clenched and the way your eyes squinted just so. The muscles of your forearms were pulled taught as your hands were balled into fists so tight that she could have sworn your knuckles were about to split.

“Alex-”

“-I’m on it,” Alex said, immediately walking over to where you were standing.

The moment he put his hand on your arm, you visibly relaxed. Your head turned to face him and all the anger had faded, turning into something akin to a soft protectiveness. She couldn’t see what Alex was saying to you, but you nodded absentmindedly and said something to the group before pulling Alex over to the counter to grab the ice creams Bo was sliding over to you.

And then one of the guys said something and you moved to turn, but Alex’s hand gripped your arm. Not just touched you, but gripped you, holding you still and stopping you from turning around to face them again. From where she was sitting, Wednesday couldn’t properly see what was going on, couldn’t see the look on your face, but she knew that tenseness in your shoulders.

You were furious, and someone was going to be on the receiving end.

Alex pulled you to the counter and slid a few ice creams over, which you eventually took with shaking hands. He left first, walking ahead of you so you had something to focus on, and you dutifully followed behind. There was still a fire in your eyes, but you kept them glued to the back of his head.

“Hey,” Ash called out, and you stopped in your tracks without turning around. “If you’re ever free-”

“-I’m not,” you interrupted before immediately finishing your walk to the table and sitting down beside Wednesday.

She watched your face carefully as you handed out ice creams, sliding specific flavours to each sibling. You looked passive, but she could see the gears still turning behind your eyes. Whatever they had said to you wasn’t sitting well. It was evident in the way you only half listened to everyone’s talking.

The hair on the back of Wednesday’s neck stood up when she felt someone watching her. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was because the group had sat not too far away from your table. Her mind kept replaying what Daniel had said. Ash thinks she’s pretty. That wasn’t sitting well with Wednesday, not at all, especially now that she knew Ash was an ex girlfriend.

In a split second decision, Wednesday leaned up to leave a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek, reveling in the way your body froze underneath her before leaning into her touch. You were smiling when she pulled away. In her peripheral vision she could see the look of absolute shock on Ash’s face. A smirk tugged at her own lips as she looked down and took the second spoon sticking out of the ice cream in between you both.

Now this made public affection worth it.

—---

The last full day of the trip started with chaos, as did every other day. Except this was different; the day started before the sun was even up.

Well. Technically it had started the night before.

Wednesday was sitting on the porch swing in the back with Daniel while the younger kids ran around with the goats. Alex and Hailey were down at the creek and you were in the kitchen preparing something for the next day. Something you had said would cook overnight. She didn’t understand, but you seemed confident that she would like it. Every now and then, she would see you looking out the door at her and smiling before going back to helping your father.

“She likes you,” Daniel said even though his nose was still in a book. She liked him the most; he kept to himself.

Wednesday just gave him a look, and he shrugged once he finally saw it.

“She won’t say it,” he said softly, “but she thinks you belong here.” She turned her head to look at you again. You were currently arguing with your father over something she couldn’t hear. “And she likes your butt.”

Her cheeks flushed at Daniel’s words; he simply chuckled before returning back to his book, not even phased by whatever thoughts he clearly heard in your head. And yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of you and the way you moved around the kitchen as if you belonged nowhere else. Your hands expertly preparing whatever was on the table, a smile on your face, your laughter at your Tio spilling out of the open back door.

You smiled at her when you passed by, something wrapped in tinfoil resting in your hands as you carried it to the grill. Smoker, Wednesday corrected herself when she remembered what you had told her earlier. A slow cooker, something she had never used before but clearly you knew how to work.

Wednesday watched you place what was in your hands into the smoker and check a few things before making your way to the porch swing where you sat down in between her and Daniel. Desire told her to lean into your side, and even though she could hear all the people around, she listened. She leaned into your side and felt your arm instinctively wrap around her shoulders to pull her close, and she sunk into you.

The wind was getting cool an hour or so later when you nudged her gently, urging her to get up and head inside with everyone else. Everyone bid their good nights and Wednesday immediately curled up with you on the couch. You left kisses on the back of her neck as you slid a hand under her shirt, resting your incredibly hot hand on her stomach before settling down.

Wednesday had been in a deep sleep when movement woke her up.

“Sorry,” you whispered before placing a simple kiss behind her ear as you lifted yourself off the couch. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be right back.”

She stayed still, wrapped up in your blanket as she listened to your feet stumble across the floor. The back door creaked open and the crickets and frogs from outside reached her ears. It had made it difficult to sleep at first, but now she found the sounds comforting. Her mind was at ease while she waited until finally the door creaked and locked and you dragged yourself back to the couch.

"Good night," you whispered with another kiss and an arm around her waist, and she quickly fell asleep again.

Until you got up a second time, not even two hours later. You gave her a kiss on the forehead before getting up, and another kiss when you got back a few minutes later.

And then a third time. This time she grumbled and practically kicked you out when you tried to crawl over her. You hit the ground with a grunt but made your way outside anyway. It took you far longer to come back, and she was almost asleep again when you crawled over her and fell back onto the couch, instantly pulling her into you and falling back asleep.

By the fourth time you got up, Wednesday was tired and grumpy and truthfully she just wanted you to hold her. All this up and down and sleeping and waking up, it was exhausting. When the sun finally started to rise, you were already up again and making coffee while your grandfather and father made their way downstairs.

"Mornin', Wensdy," your father said. She had grown to find his pronunciation of her name tolerable, if not a little endearing.

"Kept you up all night, didn't she?" Your grandfather asked with a chuckle.

She didn't dignify his question with a response. He found that even more funny, judging by his deep laugh.

Through half-lidded eyes, she saw you hand mugs of coffee to your father and grandfather, head them mumble their thanks before walking outside. She would hand it to your family, you all spent a lot of time outside. Practically from the moment you all woke up until you went back to sleep, the outside was where you were all happiest.

As much as she wanted to just change into her usual clothes for the day and get started, she was tired. She wasn’t afraid to admit it, she was tired. So she did what she had seen all of you do for the past two weeks; she left her pyjamas on and went into the kitchen. You were sitting on the bench by the table and trying to blink away the sleep in your eyes.

“Mornin’,” you mumbled as well, your voice still croaky and thick with sleep. “Saved some for you.”

She took the mug from your hands and sighed at the warmth that spread through her fingers. A similar warmth spread through her chest when your arm wrapped around her waist and you pulled her down to sit on your lap. You were ruining her, she thought when she didn’t even flinch. No, she just let herself sit on your lap and let your chin rest on her shoulder.

Everyone eventually made their way down into the kitchen by the time Wednesday finished her coffee. You were finally looking more awake and ready for the day, and you even pressed a kiss to her cheek before standing up, placing Wednesday on her feet before taking the empty mug and washing them in the sink.

Emily grabbed Wednesday’s hand and pulled her back down to the bench before you could bring her outside. For your sake, she pretended not to notice the slightest pout on your face when you noticed you had been beaten to the punch. But you put on a brave face and went out the back, and soon everyone was moving around.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Emily asked once everyone had started eating breakfast.

“What’s tonight?” Wednesday asked, and she could feel the energy in the room shift.

“We’re having a bomfire!” Emily cheered.

“It’s bonfire, Em,” Alex corrected her as he too walked out the back to join you and your group.

“For your last night,” your Abuelita said, softly enough so you couldn’t hear her speaking English. Wednesday aspired to be that woman. The level of pettiness was incredible.

“Y/N even agreed to bring out Nicky’s fiddle,” your mother said with a soft smile.

“She should leave it alone,” Hailey mumbled into her cereal.

“Hey,” your aunt cut in. “If you can’t say nothin’ nice, keep your mouth shut.”

“Well she should,” Hailey continued. “She’s not even as good as he is.”

“She’s aware, Hail,” your mother said with a sigh.

Wednesday had a feeling this conversation had occurred before. If not this particular conversation, then the topic itself. She had noticed the way everyone acted when anything involving Nicky came up. Whether it was a family photo, a book, a movie, he was there. It was as if his memory was sitting in the corner, waiting for everyone to notice and remember that he wasn’t gone, he would never truly be gone.

If his tidied, untouched side of the room wasn’t enough of a display of everyone’s feelings, this certainly was.

“I think she’s good,” Emily said, drawing everyone out of the sour mood. “She makes funny faces when she messes up,” she giggled.

“She’s always got a funny face,” Daniel said around his mouth full of eggs.

“That’s just how I look,” you said, making all the kids jump and instantly look guilty. Wednesday got joy out of their guilt. Immense joy. “I was born this way.”

“Everyone start behavin’ and eatin’ your breakfast,” your mother said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before we can have fun.”

A chorus of “yes, mommas” rang throughout the kitchen, and everyone essentially inhaled their food before getting to work. Wednesday was impressed until your mother put her to work while you were sent out to help your Tio and father start preparing the outside area.

It was a madhouse the entire day. More than once she had tried to escape the kitchen to go see you, getting just close enough for you to pull her around the corner and kiss her. But then your mother would call out and scold her - the nerve that woman had - before practically shooing her back inside to finish helping.

“Let’s get ready,” Emily called out, grabbing Wednesday’s hand and dragging her upstairs. “We’ve got something for you to wear.”

“I have clothes,” Wednesday argued.

“Y/N bought them special for you,” Emily continued.

“She’s so whipped,” Hailey chuckled with a toothy grin.

Wednesday just kept her mouth shut. Why had you picked out clothes for her? She had plenty of her own, she didn’t need any new ones. After all, hadn’t you complained recently about how you couldn’t wait to start working again because you were “broke,” as you put it so bluntly? But when the girls showed her the clothes laid out on the bed, she understood. Did she approve? That was to be determined, but she at least understood.

Everything fit perfectly. A little too well, it was almost suspicious. How had you gotten her exact measurements anyway? She supposed it didn’t matter because the black pants and shirt fit like a glove. Maybe you had a talent she knew nothing about. Would you be a skilled designer?

Who was she kidding, she had seen your wardrobe, you were the furthest thing from a designer.

“You look so pretty!” Emily called out, practically screamed, and Hailey flinched at the noise.

“Inside voice, Em,” Hailey said in a far softer voice. “Let’s go before they start without us.”

Wednesday allowed herself to be pulled downstairs, through the kitchen, and to the back where everyone was already setting things up. There was a large table to the side with all the food from the day laid out with three different coolers beside it. On the other side of the yard, a little further away from the food, was a large clearing where wood was piled almost as tall as her. Seats were scattered as if the singular purpose was to watch the fire.

Maybe it was.

And kneeling next to the wood with a torch in hand, arguing with Tio, was you. You, in jeans and boots and a hat tilted back on your head just enough to block the sun out of your eyes. There were tailored holes in your shirt that kept your wings snug, yet free. They twitched and ruffled when the wind brushed against them. It was certainly a look. A good look, if Wednesday was being completely honest with yourself.

Although you ruined it when you nearly caught your sleeve on fire in an attempt to prove something to Tio.

Wednesday stumbled forward when something pushed against the back of her knees. She exhaled loudly through her nose when she turned and faced her mortal enemy; Steve. Whoever had let him out was going to pay. He kept eye contact with her, staring deep into her soul before knocking into her kneecap and walking away.

That demon spawn would perish in the fire on this night. Wednesday swore it.

Once the fire was started, you finally walked over to where Wednesday was standing and everyone started getting their food. Just like you had been the whole trip, you made her plate for her, piling on more food than she would ever be able to eat. When asked where your plate was, your face darkened and you gave her a sheepish smile.

“I was actually gonna eat off your plate,” you said softly.

You wanted to share food with her? That was big for you, to share food. Of course you had cooked it and had gotten it all for her, but to share it? The whole meal? That was a rather big deal for you, she was actually honoured that you would even assume such a thing.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s sit down.”

You led the way and sat her down on one of the logs near the fire, and everyone else was quick to follow suit. Alysah and Jamie were more preoccupied with playing with Steve - that damned creature - and would occasionally come back to grab something to eat before going back to play. Emily made it a point to sit beside Wednesday and talk the entire time. Daniel was beside you, and Alex and Hailey were on a different log while all the adults milled around.

After everyone was done eating and you helped distract the little ones, Wednesday could hear the gentle tunes of a guitar; your father and Tio were playing softly, nothing complicated, nothing flashy. She stayed in her spot and listened, watching their fingers move expertly across beaten up instruments that were horribly out of tune. And yet, they still sounded beautiful as the strings were plucked in just a way that created a perfectly constructed melody.

“Come on over, baby bird,” your father called to you. You stopped chasing Jamie and Alysah - and goddamn Steve - around and looked up. “Play us a tune.”

You stood up straight, and Wednesday could see you take a deep breath in before slowly exhaling. Something in your expression made her feel sad, and she remembered what Hailey had said about the fiddle. It was Nicky’s. But you quickly replaced your expression with a smile and walked your way over. When you passed Wednesday, you took your hat off your head and placed it on hers.

She heard gasps come from somewhere, and when she looked up there was a teasing look on your Abuelita’s and grandfather’s faces. Your mother and father were looking at each other, and your aunt and Tio were laughing. Full, belly deep laughter. She looked up at your flushed face and narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes, and walking over to where your father and Tio were sitting. When they laughed at you, you hit their shoulders and she heard a hushed “shut up.”

Daniel came and sat down beside Wednesday again and the both of them watched you take the fiddle out of its case and start getting it ready. You put such care into it, touching it with such gentle fingers, almost as if you were scared to damage it. Maybe you were; it was Nicky’s.

You held it to your left shoulder; like a right-handed person, though you most certainly weren't one. It looked a little unnatural, and yet you weren’t hesitant when you drew the bow across the strings a few times. As much as Wednesday hated it, you tuned it to the already out-of-tune guitars. And yet, when you drew the bow across the strings once again, it almost sounded nice.

But if you ever asked, she would never admit it. She would still scold you for being so horrendously out of tune.

Your father started the song first, and you jumped in with an uncertainty that Wednesday rarely saw in you. It wasn’t fear, not really, but she could see something else even if she couldn’t put it into words. Your brows were furrowed and you looked down in such intense concentration and before long, your tongue was even sticking out slightly.

She wouldn't say you were fantastic. You were good, of course, but you were no professional. Normally it was something she would take into account; why play if you couldn't play it to perfection? That's what practice was for. Yet you continued to play, and you played past the mistakes (and made the funny faces Emily enjoyed), and your fingers quickly found their spaces on the neck and you looked peaceful.

As you played, Wednesday started to wonder who had taught you. Had it been Nicky? Whoever it was had taught you to play right handed. Was it uncomfortable to play that way, or was it the only way you knew? Those questions continued to swirl around her mind as she watched you, practically studied your movements and skill and smile.

She definitely studied your smile.

The longer everyone played, the more songs you completed, the more comfortable you looked. She almost even thought she heard you laugh when the kids started dancing around the bonfire. Your boot tapped to the beat and your father would sing and your Tio would laugh and it was such an unusual atmosphere for Wednesday.

And, much like everything you had subjected her to on that trip, it spread a warmth through her chest.

At some point, your aunt came over and sat on the other side of Wednesday. She didn’t think anything of it, everyone was either watching the three of you or watching the kids dance. It still evaded her as to why your family would make it a point to sit by her, or talk with her, or include her in things. She wasn’t part of the family.

Although she supposed her family did the same thing with you.

“Figured out the hat thing yet?” Your aunt asked when you finished the song and started bowing out, turning around to tuck the fiddle back into its case.

“No,” Wednesday admitted. Though truthfully she hadn’t even attempted to figure it out; she had, unfortunately, gotten distracted.

“It’s some old superstition,” she continued. You had finished putting up the fiddle and were now being dragged out to play something called “mothman” with Alysah, Jamie, and Emily. “If someone gives you their cowboy hat, it means they like you.”

Oh. Yes, well that- that would explain everyone’s reactions perfectly, would it not? You had, more or less, laid your affections out for the entire family to see. Not that they hadn’t seen it before, of course, they had certainly seen you holding her hand or pulling her close. But if it was superstition then it meant a great deal more than just hand holding.

A scream echoed through the air and everyone’s heads turned to where you and the kids had previously been running around. Except now there were only two people left; you and Jamie were nowhere to be seen. Wednesday tried to ignore the fear that sent through her veins that you had both just disappeared.

“They know I hate this game,” your mother mumbled as she walked past where Wednesday’s bunch was sitting.

“How do you play?” Wednesday asked.

“Y/N flies around and tries to steal you without anyone seeing,” Daniel answered. His leg brushed against Wednesday’s, and surprisingly she didn’t flinch away.

“If you’re caught?” She asked. Emily and Alysah were sticking together, looking all around for wherever you could possibly be.

“Then you lose.”

Her blood froze in her veins when your whispered voice came from right beside her left ear. How had you managed to sneak up on her? How were you even capable of being that silent? Your breath hit her ear as you chuckled and you left a quick kiss on her cheek before backing away and disappearing once again while Jamie suddenly reappeared on your aunt’s lap.

Was that attractive? Did Wednesday find your sneaking skills attractive? She did. She very much did. Another scream rang through the air; her eyes still hadn’t found you. She did, however, manage to catch you walking up behind her, Alysah and Emily both hauled over your shoulders like sacks of potatoes.

"I win," you said as you practically dropped their giggling bodies to the ground.

"Again!" Jamie called out.

"No more," your mother said almost instantly. "It's time for bed."

Grumbles and complaints came from all the children, Alex and Hailey included. But in the end they were no match for your mother, aunt, and Abuelita; those women were a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew it. Even Wednesday had learned to say a simple "yes ma'am" and go along with it.

Everyone got to cleaning up, putting up the leftovers - such an unusual concept for Wednesday, truthfully, but she believed she liked it. Possibly - and getting the children off to bed. You passed her once on the way to help carry something and grabbed the hat from her head and put it back on your own.

Everyone except your parents burst into laughter.

“You better not-”

“-Not in my house,” your mother and father said at the same time.

“It’s my own damn hat,” you shouted back. “I can take it back if I want.”

“What does that mean?” Wednesday asked your aunt.

“I’ll let lil’ bird tell you that one,” she laughed before walking away and leaving Wednesday to continue packing things up.

She felt something tickle her ankle and looked down, instantly feeling an intense rage. Steve. The damned goat was chewing her shoelace as if it was his god given right. It was beyond tempting to throw him into the bonfire that was still roaring behind her.

“Wanna stay up and watch the fire?” You asked, reaching down to pat Steve on the head. Wednesday glared at him again. You’re lucky she’s here to save you, she thought but kept to herself.

With the fire behind you and the hat tilted down over your face, you looked like a silhouette against the red and orange backdrop. She couldn’t see your eyes or your smile, but she could feel the happiness. It was in the relaxed set of your shoulders and the constant twitch and ruffle of your feathers.

“That would be nice,” Wednesday said, and this time she could see the reflection of the light off your teeth as you gave her a toothy grin.

You pulled her into your lap once you got to the logs near the fire. She instantly adjusted until she was comfortable; it was disgusting that she was now so used to sitting in your lap that she knew how to get comfortable so effortlessly. Your chin rested on your shoulder and your arms wrapped around her waist and you both just stared into the fire.

Neither one of you said anything, just sat there in a comfortable silence listening to the crackling of the burning wood. Every now and then she would feel you press a kiss behind her ear, or to her neck, or your hand would squeeze her thigh lightly. She let you continue, just enjoying the feel of your skin on hers. But the moment she went to turn around, the back patio door slammed open.

"If one 'a y'all gets pregnant, your Pop is putting you up for adoption," your aunt called out.

"Oh my god, go to sleep!" You shouted as you turned to glare at her. Her laughter echoed in the empty yard as the door closed again and you sighed.

Wednesday didn't bother hiding her smile as she pulled you into a real kiss. Her heart hammered in her chest when she felt you smile back.

[ink-flavored]

Pride & Justice: A Wary Truce

warnings: teenage bullying, teenage hooligans doing vandalism, bullying, yelling Banner art by @auroblaze P&J Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection @auroblaze @zeenimf @vacantgodling @foxys-fantasy-tales @stesierra @noblebs @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @damageinkorporated @wyked-ao3 @alesseia

Tips are appreciated!

Pride swung his tail over the side of the bench, stretched out on his back. It was bumpy and uncomfortable, but he’d take it over laying in the dirt. The clouds of smoke swirling from his horns put a gray haze over his view of the starry night sky. It didn’t bother him—stars didn’t hold all that much charm for him.

The one thing Pride definitely held was boredom. He never thought he’d get tired of pushing humans souls along the precipice of damnation, but the impossible inched close to becoming reality. He wanted to do something else—to go somewhere else. His options were annoyingly limited.

Earth sucked, he didn’t want to stay here anymore. If he never had to set foot in Hell again, it would be too soon. Trying to sneak into Heaven again was a recipe for getting dissolved to ashes before he reached the gates—there was no way they’d let their guard down so soon. Pride wasn’t sure he believed it, but even if Justice kept his promise and told everyone he was dead, the holy realm was nothing if not paranoid. So what was left? Purgatory?

Pride raked his hands down his face, pulling at his eyelids and stretching his cheeks. Making that contract was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

A sweet-sour sting on his tongue interrupted his frustrated thoughts. There was a human around, maybe even a few, who had more than a little pent-up sin. Curious, Pride sat up to survey the park that had become his little domain.

The dim streetlamps that washed the park in gray light shadowed an entire group of humans. Young ones, by the looks of it, rolling toward the playground with excited confidence. They shoved each other, hooted, and cackled—all except one. A meek looking one hung far back in the group, arms crossed over a bulky sweatshirt. Pride folded his arms on the back of the bench, trying to figure out which one of them called his name.

“—gonna do it,” the leader of the group said, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder.

“You don’t think so?” another taunted.

“No way, man, he’s too much of a pussy.”

One by one, the main group turned around to sneer at their straggler. He balled his fists up, and Pride quirked an eyebrow at the flavor that flooded over his tongue. Icy-hot wrath and tart pride at once.

“I’m not a pussy,” the straggler insisted.

“Then prove it,” demanded the leader. He shoved the bag into the meek one’s chest. “Pussy.”

There came the wave again. Every human in this posse tasted a little like sin—mostly pride, with wrath and envy sprinkled unevenly among them—but the clearly-marked outcast reeked of it. A deep-seated, suppressed anger bubbled under his skin, kept at bay by a sliver of willpower. Pride could help with that.

He slunk off the bench, prowling through the darkness to meet his target. The kid was on his knees in the grass, digging through the bag forced into his arms. All the others in his group watched, arms folded and sneering. Invisible to their eyes, Pride crouched down and peeked over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about. A metal bat, a few switchblades, lighter fluid, and clunky tools heavy enough to do blunt damage. Even through the darkness, Pride saw the kid’s hands shaking as he sorted through it all.

“Hurry the fuck up,” the leader ordered.

“I’m going,” the kid said, and hastily grabbed the bat from the trove. He stood up, and Pride stood with him. “Now what?”

“Do the honors.” The leader stepped back, gesturing at the playground behind them. “Unless you’re gonna chicken out.”

The kid flushed with sin again, staring down all the expectant onlookers, but didn’t move. His face screwed up in determination, full of potential, but nothing came of it. All that beautiful sin would go to waste. Pride took the opportunity.

He slunk an arm around the kid’s shoulders, leaning in to murmur into his ear. “You’re really going to let him talk to you like that?” he asked. “You’re going to act like a coward in front of them all?”

“Fine,” the kid spat at his leader. He stalked past the group, bouncing the bat in his shaking hand, with Pride hot on his heels. The rest of them followed, closing in so there was no escape. Pride felt the string of his influence waver with every step they took.

“You can’t back down now,” he insisted, feeding the impulse he’d tasted mere seconds ago. “Not unless you want to prove them all right.”

“I won’t,” the kid muttered. He stopped at one of the plastic slides and reeled back with the bat. He stopped at the peak of his swing. The hesitation threatened to snap the thread altogether. Pride went for the kill.

“What would she think, if she found out how much of a pansy you are?”

The cord of his influence tightened to steel. The kid flared his nostrils, spurred to action, and swung the bat down—

“Excuse me, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”

Pride’s ichor turned to ice. He and the humans whipped around at the same time, bearing witness to the most ridiculous thing that could have possibly happened that night.

“And I don’t think,” that stupid, fucking Angel of Justice said, duffel bag dangling from the strap in his hand, “that you’re supposed to have these either.”

“Scram!” the leader hissed.

“What?” asked the outcast, but it was too late.

All the humans scattered like frightened ants. Pride snapped his influence and ducked under the slide. Trying to avoid another dose of dumbass righteous fury, he circled around until he came under the shade of a tree, preparing for a fight. Justice hadn’t moved, though. He zipped up the bag, threw the strap over his shoulder, and only then did he approach the single shaking human.

The abandoned kid whipped his head side to side, trying to find where the rest of the humans had gone. Justice got closer, walking with purpose. He dropped the bat—Pride rolled his eyes—and tried to make a break for it.

“Hey,” Justice said. He barely grasped the kid’s shoulder, which was enough to make him freeze in fear. “Come on, you’re not in trouble.”

“Y-yeah! Good!” the kid stuttered, putting on the weakest show of defiance Pride had ever witnessed. “Because my friends would bail me out, you know.” Pride snorted.

“Your friends? The ones that just ran off to let you take the fall?” The kid flapped his jaw indignantly for a few seconds. Justice crouched down to his level, a sad smile on his face. “I think we both know they’re not really your friends.”

“They are! I’m just—They’re just teaching me how to be cool.”

“Real friends don’t try to change you.” He took the metal bat off the ground and laid it flat in his hands. “Or make you do things you don’t want to do.”

Pride seethed, lashing his tail, smoke gushing from his horns, as all potential sin bled out of his target. The tart flavor slipped off his tongue as the pointless angelic advice took hold.

“I think,” Justice continued, “you should find some people who already think you’re cool.”

“But what about… girls?” the kid asked, so meek Pride almost couldn’t parse what to snicker at.

Justice didn’t find it as funny. “If there’s a girl who wants you to act like someone you’re not, she doesn’t really like you at all.”

Sobered, the kid hung his head in defeat. Justice put the bat down and ruffled his hair, and they giggled together. Pride wished he had organs to throw up with.

“You’re kind,” Justice said. “Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

“Okay,” the kid agreed, hands deep in his pockets. “Thanks.”

The kid shuffled off into the night, not a drop of sin left in the air. Justice was the only thing left in the park, zipping the metal bat back up with all the other unused tools. And Pride’s promise of an interesting evening. He stomped out from behind his tree, hands on his hips.

“That was my catch, you know,” he snapped.

Justice stood and revealed his wings as he turned around, stark white feathers cutting through the night. Pride grimaced as the pinprick headache of an angel’s power hit. Justice made a similar face back.

“You’re going after children?” he asked.

Pride rolled his eyes at such a base accusation. “Oh come on, all humans are children. Your people said it yourself.”

“That’s—” Justice put his palms out to stop himself. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you want to explain that?”

“Gladly. What are you doing here?”

“Uh, what does it look like?”

“I told you to go back to Hell!”

Pride laughed openly at the rage on his face. “You’re kidding me, that’s why you’re here?”

“This place reeks of sin! Do you know how idiotic it is that you stayed on Earth?”

Suddenly it wasn’t funny. Pride set his jaw, tail twitching. “What, like you’re any smarter?”

“Do you really think this—” Justice threw his arms out, gesturing to the park at large, “—is the safest place you can possibly be?”

“You’re the one who left me here, dumbass.”

“And I told you to leave!”

“Yeah, so fucking what? Why should I listen to you?”

“Because this place reeks, like I said.” He jabbed a finger up to the dark sky. “We can sense it from Heaven, and if anyone else catches on to why, we’re both. Dead.”

Pride folded his arms, unimpressed. “Not my problem.”

Justice stared at him like he’d grown an extra set of horns. “Your life is in danger. How is that not your problem?”

“If angels don’t have anything better to do than chase one demon around, that sounds like a you problem.”

Baffled was the only word that could accurately describe Justice’s reaction. He worked his jaw up and down and vaguely circled his arms. His wings half-flapped, like they couldn’t decide if it was better to fly away. Pride watched him struggle with cool disinterest.

“Are you serious?” Justice finally said.

Pride shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I saved your life.”

“Your decision.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Not a great choice, to be honest.”

He made a tortured noise, balling his hands into fists by his head. “We’re this close to being caught by Heaven’s entire garrison, and you can’t even accept a warning? Are you dense on purpose?”

Pride flared his nostrils, horns spewing dark clouds of smoke. “Hey, you’re the one who got me thrown behind bars in the first place, remember that?”

“And I defended you in your trial! I’m the only reason you got to tell your story at all! I helped you escape!”

“I didn’t ask for any of your fucking charity!”

Justice stalked up to him in two long strides. “But you got it! Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not a fucking thing, buddy!”

“The life of the only person in Heaven on your side doesn’t mean anything to you? Your own life doesn’t mean anything to you?” He scoffed and took a step back. “No, of course it doesn’t. All you had to do was go back to Hell, and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. But no, your ego is more important than accepting my freely offered help.”

“You know what, maybe it fucking is!” Pride stuck a finger in his face. “Maybe you’re not half as smart as you fucking think, Justice, because I’m as good as dead if I go back to Hell anyway!”

Pride only realized what came out of his mouth when Justice raised his brows. He clamped his jaw shut, too late to keep any more secrets.

“What do you mean?” Justice asked, less accusatory and more sympathetic. It made Pride’s skin crawl.

Pride chewed on his cheek for a long moment. “I have… enemies,” he finally said. “Having a contract left hanging makes you weak. And even if no one knows you helped me get out, the news that you defended me in that stupid trial has got to be spreading by now. Failing to complete the contract and needing an angel’s help would—” He bit the sentence short, not wanting to imagine it. “I wouldn’t be greeted with acceptance and understanding.”

Justice nodded seriously, but wouldn’t meet his eye. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever you think Heaven’s going to do to me, Hell would be ten times worse.”

It was eerily quiet. All of Justice’s righteous anger was gone, replaced with pensive silence. Pride took the opportunity to sulk. He shouldn’t have let an angel get him so worked up. After revealing this much, letting slip that he had no choice, Justice would be free to do whatever he wanted. Take him anywhere he wanted—because he’d be dead either way.

“Most angels,” Justice suddenly said, “don’t like me all that much.”

“Like who?” Pride asked. “Honesty?”

He breathed a weary sigh. “Yes, like Honesty. She thinks I’m too soft for my work, too sympathetic. She’s been trying to get rid of me for ages, and it’s… not an unpopular opinion.”

After seeing Honesty’s entire face twitch during his trial, Pride couldn’t say he was surprised she didn’t like him. But most other angels too?

“Weren’t people defending you earlier?” Pride asked.

“A few,” Justice admitted. “Not enough of them can actually made decisions, though. And plenty of others already suspect I’m—” He closed his eyes, and looked pained. “They think I’m a traitor.”

“I mean technically—”

“I know, yes, by helping you I am.” He took a breath. “That’s not the point. The point is I’m already being treated suspiciously. It’s not long before Honesty and everyone else who already disliked me start blaming me outright for letting you escape.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay, so.” Justice stuck out a hand. “Truce?”

Pride stared at him. “What?”

“We stay down here on Earth, together. We lay low as humans, get everyone off our trails, and figure out how to complete your contract. Everybody wins.”

“How is this going to convince everyone you’re not a traitor?”

Justice swirled his hand, annoyed. “We can come up with excuses for that too, come on.”

That was the dumbest idea Pride had ever heard proposed. It sounded like the idea of someone desperate to stay alive, or someone too stupid to consider the consequences. Pride would be the biggest idiot in Hell, Heaven, and on Earth to agree to it.

But was he really any less desperate? No doubt he’d start getting chased around for refusing to cooperate with… whoever came to collect him. And having an unfulfilled contract was a ticking clock on his soul, too. He’d be an even bigger idiot to ignore that.

“Fine,” Pride agreed. He cautiously slid his hand forward to shake. “Truce.”

Justice grinned unreasonably wide and shook hard. “Okay! I guess we’re doing this.”

“I guess we are.”

We’re gonna die, Pride thought. But at least I convinced an angel to defect from Heaven.

And what better victory could he ever hope to get?

[toolduffelbag]

Wonderful Tool Organizer

Any kind of biological and non-biological foreign object debris is associated with FOD and this has contributed to many terrible incidents in the past. Many tools are used for controlling FOD like FOD containers and different types of tool bags like duffle bags, bucket bags, belt bags, and backpacks. The large duffle tool bag is the bag that helps in removing foreign object debris for avoiding any kind of mis happenings in the aerospace and aviation sectors. This bag comes with various pockets for keeping the different sizes of tools whether large or small. It is durable, easy to carry, and comes with multiple zippers and a strong carrying handle that makes it a high-capacity tool bag.

[lilacmingi]

OUTLAW CUSTOMS

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Yunho x fem reader, Jongho x fem reader

Word count: 4,656

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𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎 | 윤호

A loud and shrill squawk from the parrot perched in the corner of Outlaw Customs filled the car garage as you stepped inside the small establishment.

"Customer!" It screeched, announcing your presence for you.

Jongho, who was buffing out wax on the police car that always sat in the garage, lifted his head, a friendly smile breaking out across his soft features.

"Yunho, your favorite customer is here!" He called.

The sound of tools clattering to the ground in the back room echoed through the car port before the door swung open revealing the tall, dark-haired man, clad in navy coveralls, his face smudged with oil.

"Y/n." He grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"Wooyoung sent me to bring you guys some cash from last night's victory."

"San won again?" Jongho asked with mild astonishment while checking the car for any spots he might have missed.

"He sure did." You dropped a satchel of cash onto the hood of the vehicle.

"Hey, hey. I just waxed that." Jongho scolded.

You gave a sheepish smile followed by a chuckle, relocating the bag to a worn coffee table. "My bad."

"So, you were hanging out with the troublemakers?" Yunho inquired.

"I got bored at home and went to see one of San's fights. Wooyoung saw me there and chased me down afterwards to get me to deliver this to you."

You decided to leave out the part where he said, "I know you have a crush on Yunho, so why don't you just take this cash to Outlaw Customs for me?"

"If you were bored you could've hung out here with me." Yunho mentioned, making Jongho stifle a laugh.

Yunho's jealousy and neediness was beginning to make an appearance, though you seemed to be oblivious to it.

"You guys are busy working on cars, I didn't want to get in the way."

"You wouldn't have been in the way." He assured you.

"Yeah and we don't get many customers anyway." Jongho added. "It gets lonely around here and we can't exactly have a conversation with a parrot."

On cue, their feathered friend squawked from its perch.

"Alright. I'll just come over here and start harassing you guys from now on."

"Yunho would like that." Jongho snickered.

The older mechanic cleared his throat loudly, shooting daggers at the younger man that was currently holding back a smug grin.

Yunho dug through the duffel bag with raised brows and wide eyes.

"Must've had a big crowd tonight." He commented aloud, sifting through the wads of cash before retrieving a couple bundles and tossing them to you. "Here."

You managed to grab them at the last second, nearly dropping the bills.

"What? This is yours though."

"You deserve a cut too."

"For what?"

"Delivering it."

You huffed out a breathy chuckle. "I didn't exactly go out of my way to do it."

"You should take that with you." Jongho spoke up, siding with Yunho. "You've helped us out a lot. You deserve a cut too."

You knew not to argue with them, as neither would allow you to leave without taking some of that cash.

Jongho moved over to close the giant garage door, pulling on the ropes that controlled it and lowered it to the ground.

"Well," He sighed. "I'm gonna call it a night. Yunho, you staying?"

"For a little while."

"Alright." Jongho grabbed his bag from the back room as well as his apartment keys, stopping to coax the colorful parrot onto his shoulder before bidding the both of you goodbye.

Jongho lived right across the street in a small apartment complex with Yunho, so he didn't have very far to walk.

"So..." You began, turning to Yunho expectantly.

"So..." He repeated, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coveralls.

"How are plans for infiltrating Prestige coming along?"

"They're still at a halt."

"Ah." You nodded. "That's the last I heard."

"Yeah. We've gotta lay low for a bit so they don't suspect anything." He sighed softly. "I feel bad for that kid, though."

"Right." You nodded knowingly. "Is he doing alright?"

"Yeah. He's worried about his brother, though."

"I would be too if I were in his position."

A young boy came to the Black Pirates' hideout a few months back after the group's last big plan to help free some of the people of Strictland. They successfully broke people from their trances by using breakers and one of the freed citizens was a little boy that attended Prestige Academy. He mentioned that his brother was freed as well but that he needed help. He showed great concern for his older sibling and wanted something to be done before students at Prestige caught on and figured out he had regained his emotions.

This lined up perfectly, seeing as the boys wanted to make a big move against the government of Strictland and what better way than to attack the academy and free a bunch of young students?

The only issue was, the guys have been on standby for six months now. Of course, it was all for safety reasons. They had to space out their attacks, lest they draw more attention to themselves. The last thing you wanted was for one of them to be captured—especially Yunho.

"I'm worried." You sighed out.

"About what?"

"About you guys. The raid on Prestige is a big one."

"We'll be fine."

"Will you?"

"Yes." He nodded. "It's not like we haven't risked our lives before. We've been lucky enough to make it out safely every time."

"What if your luck runs out? I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

Your throat immediately closed up, your eyes going wide at your own words.

"I mean, you guys. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you guys."

Judging by the way Yunho's brows quirked upwards, your attempt to backpedal was a failure.

"You care about me that much, huh?" A hint of amusement laced his tone.

"I didn't... that slipped out. Sorry."

"It's fine. Honestly, every time we go on these missions I think about you. You always cross my mind at least once. I have to make sure I make it out safely so I can come back to you."

"Come back to me?"

He nodded. "If I got captured and couldn't see you again, I don't know what I'd do."

You swallowed.

Was this a confession? It sure seemed like one. Though he could just be telling you that you mean a lot to him.

"Well then, you'd better come back to me once these plans are off hold."

He chuckled softly. "I'll do my best."

"You guys are very brave."

"So are you. You've helped us plaster posters around Strictland and have been chased through the streets by android guardians."

"Yeah, but I'm not infiltrating secret hideouts or sneaking into academies like you all."

"What you do is just as important." He assured you earnestly, his serious gaze boring into you.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

You cracked a small smile, glancing down at your feet shyly while messing with your nails. "Thanks."

A beat of silence passed before you lifted your head. The boys were on standby but that could change tomorrow and something could happen to Yunho. Then what? He could get his emotions taken away—or worse. The android guardians could kill him and he would never know how you felt about him.

"Yunho?" Your voice came out weaker than you intended.

"Yes?"

"You mentioned that you always think about me when you're out on dangerous missions. What exactly did you mean by that?"

You decided to ask him directly instead of dancing around the topic. With the world you lived in, there was no time to be putting things off and hinting around in hopes that the other person would catch on.

"Ah." Yunho's ears turned red seconds after the question left your mouth.

"Sorry." You murmured. "I just need to know in case I'm reading into things too much."

"Well..." He trailed off, pulling on his fingerless gloves. "That was my way of saying I like you."

Your posture straightened at his answer, your body language reflecting the way his response made you feel.

"So, you do like me?"

He chuckled, taking a step towards you.

"Would you like me to repeat it?"

"Yeah that might be nice."

Yunho now stood directly in front of you, his head tilted to the side.

"I like you." He repeated, his voice low but pronunciation clear.

So you weren't reading into things too much. He felt the same way as you.

Yunho's large hands slid around to hold your waist, his warm palms making a light rush of excitement tickle your tummy. You suppressed a shiver and threw your arms around his broad shoulders, coaxing him closer. Your eyes were glued to his face, taking in every detail of it, noticing the way his gaze dropped down to your lips while he licked his own, wetting them in preparation for what was to come.

The beating of your heart sped up as the space between your faces diminished little by little. To your dismay, Yunho stopped moving closer just as the tip of his nose brushed yours.

He had already lit a fire within you that begged to be fueled by his lips latching to yours, and just when you were about to get what you wanted, he stopped.

"Why?" Was all you managed to say.

"Are you okay with this?" He inquired softly, his breath fanning against your cheeks.

"I'm more than okay with it. Now, kiss me."

Instead of giving him the time to close the very narrow gap between your faces, you pulled him forward, your impatience taking control.

Yunho grunted softly at the impact, his hands squeezing your waist in response while pulling you closer. Sure, his hands had grease smudges on them and his coveralls were more than likely covered in grime, but you didn't care. His lips were pressed firmly against yours, moving in a passionate manner while keeping a steady pace. The kiss was full of longing as the both of you poured all your emotions into this moment, holding onto each other like your lives depended on it.

Yunho was quick to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to the side to slot your mouths closer together as his kisses became more sloppy and impatient. His breaths came out in sharp exhales through his nose while he boldly nipped at your bottom lip.

He moved forward, causing you to take a step backwards. Your backside bumped against the front of the car parked in the middle of the garage making your breath hitch in surprise.

Yunho's large form covered yours as he leaned over you, not breaking away from the kiss. You moved in sync, leaning back and allowing him to press you against the hood of the car. Your legs separated, allowing him to slot himself between them to get closer to you. Your fingers moved up to his dark hair, carding your fingers through it while lightly dragging the ends of your nails against his scalp. He groaned softly against your lips in response to your actions.

His sounds only egged you on as you brought your hands down to the nape of his neck to play with the longer hair at the back, twirling a strand around your index finger every so often. Yunho's lips parted ways with yours, allowing you a few moments to catch your breath before he attached his mouth to your jawline, stealing the air in your lungs once again. Your head leaned back, allowing him more access as his hands fumbled to find yours, pinning your wrists to the hood of the car as he ravaged your neck.

His name slipped from your parted lips in a blissful sigh, the sound like music to his ears and fuel to the fire that burned inside of him. You let out a tiny squeak when he boldly nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck. Yunho had always been so sweet, goofy, and sometimes even a little clumsy. Now, he was devouring you, showering your lips, neck, and jawline with heated open-mouthed kisses that had your mind clouded.

When Yunho could no longer deny himself oxygen, he pulled away with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips, and pink cheeks. He released your wrists, propping himself over your form which was still laid against the car hood. The both of you were panting and huffing, trying to catch your breath while gazing blissfully at each other.

"That was..." You began breathlessly, unable to find the right word to describe what you had just experienced.

"Intense." Yunho finished for you.

"That's one way to describe it." You chuckled softly, reaching up to run your fingers through Yunho's messy hair, smoothing out the strands that stuck out.

"So, does this make us an item?" He inquired with a cheeky smirk.

"It does." You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, reminiscing on the moments you shared just seconds prior.

Yunho couldn't help but get giddy at the thought of being able to call you his girlfriend.

"Now that we're a couple, you have no choice but to come back to me." You mentioned with a smirk.

"I'd come back to you regardless." He assured you, the sentiment making your heart flutter.

It was then that a look of realization flashed across Yunho's features.

"Jongho is gonna kill us when he finds out we laid all over the hood of the freshly waxed car." He chuckled.

"Who cares?" You grinned, tugging him back down to your lips.

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎 | 종호

"Car giving you trouble again?"

"Yeah." You sighed, throwing a glance back at the piece of junk sitting in front of Outlaw Customs, the neon light from the sign outside shining down on the horrendous paint job on the hunk of metal like a giant spotlight, bringing attention to the eyesore.

Living on the outskirts of Strictland wasn't easy. It's where the people who didn't want to play by the government's rules lived since this city was out of their jurisdiction. Getting money wasn't easy, therefore buying a decent car wasn't easy, neither was getting a decent paint job. Whoever owned your current hunk of junk previously had given it the worst paint job you'd seen in your entire life. If you didn't know any better you'd say they used a can of spray paint on it, which would explain the uneven coating and the ugly matte finish.

"What seems to be the problem?" Jongho inquired, stepping out of the shop to examine the car.

"Besides all the cosmetic issues, it's started making a weird noise when I'm driving."

"Does it happen when you're applying the breaks or turning the wheel?"

"No. I could be driving on a straight road and it'll start making this awful sound."

"Maybe I should drive it and see if I can figure out what the problem is."

"That'd be great." You pulled the keys from your pocket and dropped them into his open palm.

"Yunho, I'm going for a test drive!" He called out to his friend whom he worked with.

Moments later came a muffled, "Okay!" from underneath the cop car that always seemed to be parked in the garage.

It was then you noticed a long pair of legs sticking out from underneath the back end of the vehicle.

"Jeez! Yunho, I didn't even realize you were there." You clutched your chest.

The tall brunette pushed himself out from underneath the car, his cheeks covered in grime and oil smudges.

"Sorry, Y/n." He chuckled.

"Alright." Jongho twirled your keys around his finger. "I'm headed out."

You followed behind him to the rickety piece of metal that hardly qualified as a car.

"You're tagging along?" He inquired after noticing you trailing behind him.

"Of course I am. For all I know you could crash my car into a ditch and, while I despise this piece of junk, it's all I have."

Jongho let out a snort. "Alright then."

He hopped into the drivers seat while you made yourself comfortable on the opposite side. After a couple attempts to crank the car, Jongho managed to start the engine.

"Told you it's a piece of junk." You commented, earning a small chuckle from him as he pulled away from the shop.

Jongho kept one hand on the wheel as he drove down the vacant streets, his eyes focused on the road ahead while he listened for any strange noises from the car's engine. Your gaze stayed glued to his relaxed form, finding the way he drove with only one hand extremely attractive.

The streetlights gave a dull glow to the interior of the vehicle, flashing along Jongho's features as he drove past each lamp post. You stayed quiet, keeping your eyes glued to the man beside you. Ever since you met Jongho, you felt an attraction to him. It was small at first, superficial maybe, seeing as the first thing that caught your attention were his visuals. However, as you got to know him you fell for more than just his looks. You fell for things like his witty sense of humor, his sweet side that he didn't always let his friends see, and his powerful singing voice that left you speechless.

"You're staring." He commented with a faint smirk playing at his lips.

Your body stiffened, which he seemed to notice without even having to look at you.

He chuckled.

"How..." You couldn't even get the sentence out.

"I can feel when people are staring. It's like a sixth sense. Don't you have it?"

"Sometimes." You responded meekly.

He chuckled lowly, amused by your bashful behavior.

The awkward tension in the vehicle was stifling, however Jongho was cool as a cucumber—as usual. He never appeared nervous about anything and if he ever felt even a shred of fear or anxiety, he would never let anyone know it. That's one of the many things you loved about him. In fact, you found his nonchalant way of behaving very attractive. Nothing ever seemed to bother him—except bugs. He hated bugs.

A familiar and unpleasant sound came from the engine, grabbing your attention and pulling you back to the task at hand.

"That's the noise." You mentioned, pointing towards the troublesome engine.

Jongho nodded. "That sounds rough."

"I know."

"How long has it been doing this?"

"About three days."

"Why didn't you bring it to me sooner?" He asked, momentarily turning to you with a concerned expression.

"I thought it was one of those things that just happened once and then went away."

Jongho chuckled, shaking his head softly.

"It's never one of those things."

"Noted."

"I'll drive a little more and see if I can get it to make that noise again. It sounds like it might be the crank shaft. It'll make a knocking noise if it's not working properly."

You nodded. "Thanks for checking the car out."

"It's my job." He shrugged.

"Still, I appreciate it. I know you and Yunho are the only two mechanics in the city, but you're the only ones I trust to work on my car, even if it is totally worthless."

"Well, you're welcome."

Jongho continued to drive through the city while you kept to yourself for the most part and made sure to keep the talking to a minimum so he could listen for that knocking noise again, not wanting to disturb him.

"You're quiet." Jongho noted aloud.

"You're doing your job right now. I'm just being quiet so you can listen for that sound again."

"You can still talk." He turned to flash you a warm smile, chuckling afterward. "This silence is killing me."

You returned the smile, settling back into the seat and turning your gaze to the road.

"So, when are you two gonna fix up that cop car?" You inquired, striking up a conversation.

"Eventually."

You chuckled. "It's been sitting in the garage for months now."

"We've been busy." He shrugged.

"Doing what? No offense but Outlaw Customs isn't exactly bustling with customers."

"I can't tell you. It's top secret."

"Of course." You laughed, not taking him seriously in the slightest.

"It really is." He defended, his tone light, but carrying a seriousness with it.

"If it really is top secret, why are you even making me aware of it? Wouldn't it be better if I was unaware of the whole thing completely?"

Jongho's expression dropped in realization.

You fell into laughter. "I'm just messing with you. If it's top secret, it's top secret, I won't force you to tell me."

Jongho seemed to be taking the situation seriously, but you didn't think this "top secret" thing was as big of a deal as he was making it out to be.

"So, what have you been up to?" Jongho asked, changing the subject.

"Not much. I've been staying at home most days. I did go to Chili Peppers a couple nights ago. You know, that cowboy guy's face is plastered everywhere."

"Yeah. I've seen it. The posters are all over the city."

"What do you think they want with him?"

"I don't know." Jongho murmured, his eyes glued to the road. "But it can't be good."

"You think he's one of those guys in that group that rebels against the government?" You questioned.

Jongho stiffened at your inquiry, which you almost didn't notice.

"He might be." He responded.

Just then, the knocking noise from your engine sounded, putting an end to your conversation, much to Jongho's relief.

"Well, there it is again." He mentioned.

"Yep." You sighed out.

Jongho promptly pulled off to side of the road, putting the car in park.

"Well," He began, turning towards you. "Now that we know what the problem is, I think we can take it back to the shop. I should be able to get it fixed in a couple days."

"That's great." You nodded, moving to face him, your eyes scanning his features for longer than you intended.

"You're staring again." He mentioned.

"Sorry." You murmured.

It's hard not to. Your inner thoughts added.

"What is it that's so intriguing about me, hm?"

You could see a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he asked the question.

"Nothing." You cleared your throat and turned your head towards the window. "We should probably get back to Outlaw Customs."

"Not just yet." Jongho's fingers were placed under your chin and turned your head back towards him.

You swallowed, your cheeks set flame by his bold actions. Again, Jongho never got flustered by anything and to see him so unaffected in this situation was very attractive. They way he confidently held eye contact with you made your stomach do flips.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as your mind imagined what might come next. You didn't have to imagine for very long before Jongho leaned across the console, swiftly closing the gap between your faces and attaching his lips to yours. Your entire body melted upon contact, your eyelids sliding shut as you leaned forward to squish your lips more firmly against his. A hum from Jongho vibrated against you, sending a violent rush of butterflies to your stomach. You had no idea Jongho had this kind of passion in him.

Jongho's fingers released your chin and his hand slid around to cup the back of your neck to pull you nearer. You tried to move to him only for the console to bump against your ribs, preventing you from getting any closer. You grunted in response to the obstruction causing Jongho to pull away, letting out a breathy chuckle at your reaction.

"Should we move to the backseat?" He questioned, taking a brief glance at the more spacious area.

You nodded vigorously before scrambling between the driver and passenger seats and into the back, Jongho following behind.

As soon as he joined you, he crawled on top of your form and latched his lips back onto yours, encasing your bottom lip between both of his, the feeling making your whole body melt all over again.

Your hands moved to clutch the collar of Jongho's denim jacket, pulling him to you while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss, making your closed eyelids flutter. Jongho's hand slid down to hold your waist, squeezing the flesh every once in a while in order to ground himself before gently massaging the area with the pad of his thumb. Your hands released his collar and moved up to slide into his dark brown hair, combing your digits through it, eliciting a quiet sigh from him.

The two of you stayed tangled together in the backseat with locked lips for the next few moments until your lungs burned for air.

Jongho was the one to break the kiss, pulling away breathing heavily and resting his forehead against yours while the both of you tried to catch your breaths.

"I have to tell you something." He spoke.

"That you like me?" You questioned with a grin.

"Well, yes but I feel like that was obvious." He laughed softly.

"Then what do you have to tell me?"

"You know that thing that I said was top secret?"

"Mhm." You nodded.

"And you know the group that's rebelling against the government?"

Again, you nodded.

"I'm in it."

Your brows furrowed and Jongho could tell you didn't totally believe him.

"That's why Yunho and I haven't been working on that car. We've been planning an infiltration of Prestige Academy. And the wanted posters hanging up everywhere are of my friend Mingi."

Your eyes searched his face for any signs of dishonesty, but his expression was unchanging.

"You're serious?"

"Yes and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"You're part of the group that's been going around Strictland putting up posters and spreading art and music?"

He nodded.

"All of those big disturbances in Strictland were you guys?"

He nodded again.

"I can't believe this."

"I hope you're not angry with me."

"Why would I be angry?"

"Because we're friends and I kept it a secret."

"Being in a group rebelling against the government is something that needs to be a secret." You chuckled. "I understand."

"Yunho and I are trying to lay low and blend in so you can't tell anyone."

"I would never blow your cover like that."

Jongho gave you a small smile.

"You're incredibly brave." You told him.

"I guess." He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Isn't it scary being chased by android guardians?"

"It is, but it's what we have to do if we want this world to go back to the way it should be."

"You guys are incredible."

Jongho could feel his ears getting hot at your praises.

"I can believe you've been rebelling against the government and I had no idea."

"Well, now you do."

"You know..." You trailed off. "It's kinda hot."

Jongho perked up. "It is?"

"Mhm." You nodded.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth trying to ignore the way your words made his heart race and it didn't help that your fingers were toying with his hair.

"You're driving me crazy." He murmured.

"Am I?"

"Yes." He sighed out before leaning back down to capture your lips between his.

"Wait." You halted his actions, pulling away ever so slightly. "Yunho is expecting us to come back. Don't you think he'll wonder what's taking so long?"

"Nah." Jongho was quick to brush it off, eager to have his lips on yours again—and you let him, your eyelids sliding closed upon contact.

Perhaps you were thankful for your junky car messing up all the time. If not for that, you wouldn't have an excuse to see Jongho.

Hongjoong & Mingi ⟡ Seonghwa & Yeosang ⟡ San & Wooyoung

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143

[izgnanik-a]

MerMay GhostSoap 3

// MDNI // read at your own risk //

Johnny didn’t say a word about his venture into the restricted room to anyone, not even his roommate. He was beyond terrified, and worried he’d lost his own mind, let alone be fired for going somewhere he wasn’t supposed to.

He didn’t get reamed out for losing his lanyard like he thought he would, but there were questions that he’d built a lie for. His lie was far fetched and they believed it, or maybe they just indulged his horrible lie because they didn’t care.

Johnny learned his lesson about keeping it around his neck, and stuffing it into his pocket. He outlasted the week trial period and soon he’d get his paper check, letting the others down with his presence. He hadn’t seen Garrick around but assumed he was due to see him.

The anniversary of his week and a half employment was rolling by when he saw him again, smiling bright as usual.

“Hey. Good to see you still stuck around here.” He stopped before him in the halls, a duffel bag he kept his tools in clinked at his side. “How are you holding?”

Johnny didn’t know what to say; he’d been scared out of his mind for the week on what he could’ve saw in the water. Even too afraid to stare too long into the tank and see his reflection morph again. He was considering leaving and never showing up again. But the pay was good, and he needed to pay rent.

He blabbered off some nonsense that had Garrick chuckling. He liked the sound of that noise. It filled the hallway until it was swollen with something.

“I’m just glad you came in today. It’s good to see you again.” To that, it sounded like he was leaving.

“Hey.” Johnny came to his side, stifling his movement. “I know I’ve already asked you about the tank and everything but — what’s in it?”

Kyle looked at him with some amused look. “Shepherd has a hobby for collecting rare things.”

Johnny blinked at him. “So you’ve told me.”

“Look, John.” Garrick’s tone became serious, but some airiness remaining to keep it lighthearted and friendly. “You’ve got a good job here. Good benefits. Sometimes you should let the questions roll off. I stopped asking questions a long time ago.”

“I can’t help it. It makes me me.”

“And I find that admirable.” Garrick hesitated to put his hand out, pressing his palm into Johnny’s shoulder. “But you don’t have to be brave here. Just — watch the tank. Okay?”

Johnny glanced between his dreamy eyes, and assumed this was some sort of complacency tactic. They sent the dreamy eyed man to strangle the lively, curious bunch back in line and no one would say a thing because he was charming. Siren-like.

Johnny did that for his shift. Sat at his desk, idling thumbing through the book he’d brought in, and not reading a single word. He fixed his eyes on the tank ahead of him.

Every time Kyle had come by, it had become somewhat cleaner, brighter, but still harboring that darkness that could only be seen within the crevices of the ocean. His mind began to drift of some otherworldly thoughts of angler fishes and dreadful prehistoric anomalocaris’ swimming around, — when a flicker of something white flashed in his eyes.

He brought his focus forward and watched a speck from within the water shine off the overhead lights. Johnny stood carefully, rounding the desk, and squinted his eyes.

The object beckoned him forward, curled its finger at him, and dragged him to the glass with his hands pressed up against it only to realize —

“My fucking lanyard.” He watched it float towards him like some ghostly sentient beast, sitting out of reach behind a pane of glass.

Just as he’d pressed his brow to his hands to stare into the water, the ID card came blaring at it into the glass with a thud and he was sent back flying. His thighs hit the desk, scraping against the ground, and he caught himself with his hands on the desktop.

The lanyard was wrapped within the clutches of a beast, dark speckled hands pressed into the glass where his had been moments before. A face stared out at him.

All those nightmares came back to him.

Reflective cat-like eyes bored into his, wide and double slitted when they blinked at him in a humanoid way. Where Johnny could see a burly chest, the rest of it vanished into the darkness behind it. What broke his sense of reality was the ghastly face, a glower that burned his fear, replacing it with frozen trepidation.

Johnny didn’t realize he was panting until the audio cut back over his hammering heart in his neck.

All logistics told Johnny that this was just a diver cleaning the tank out, his eyes were playing tricks on him because he got spooked. But there were gills along the side of the creatures neck, webbed skin between its fingers, an unnatural pattern of flesh that sheen blue and purple as its rear flexed behind it to keep it from sinking to the bottom of the tank.

And John fucking MacTavish’s ID in its claws.

He should scream.

Was he screaming?

Why didn’t he scream?

Why did it look at him like that?

Johnny felt himself slowly thawing out when the creature blinked at him for the nth time in the last four minutes. He gulped with a strain in his neck, a dull throb in the back of his thighs from hitting the desk. He straightened out carefully, not yet taking a leap of confidence in stepping closer to the tank.

The creature watched him, like a vulture watching an injured animal, waiting for it to croak before diving in. The lanyard buoyed in front of its chest.

Johnny gulped again to wet his dry throat. “That—“ his voice cracked as he shoved his words forward, “was not — nice.” He gave a startled noise to his own response. He pointed briefly at the lanyard. “That’s mine.”

The creature, unamused, tapped the face of the ID into the glass as if to say ‘eat shit, mine now’.

Why Johnny’s first instinct was to reprimand was beyond him. But it felt more natural than screaming his way out of the building in confused fear.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.” Johnny muttered again.

The creature’s eyes shut behind its double lids, but to Johnny —

“Did you just- you rolled your eyes at me? Didn’t you?”

It dropping his lanyard where he could see it, right at the edge, and turned around.

Johnny spotted the massive tail fin behind it, and he didn’t feel a sense of awe but his scolding was to be heard. He pressed up against the glass looking in. “Listen here you numpty, fish breath. If I had a word with you, I’d tell you my mind. I’m not finished with you.” He knocked his knuckles against the glass. “Get back here.”

Johnny looked to the small closet-like door that led to the top of the tank. Tempted to get a look at this thing up close, definitely not to get in the last word, he found himself unlocking the deadbolt and leaning over the ledge.

“Where are you, you hackit fish?” Johnny smacked his palm against the surface of the water, ripples being splashed against the wall and returning. “You’ve got plenty to say for someone who looks like my grandad’s baw.”

At the edge of the water by Johnny’s right, out dipped a head and a pair of eyes. Oblivious to the watchful splashes against his palm, if Johnny had been an injured fish, a predator would’ve snatched him up already.

He didn’t realize, by tapping the water, he was displaying a meal for a starved beast.

“That’s what I thought. You’ve got all to say when you’re behind a glass.” Johnny sat back on his haunches, hands on his hips. “Im never coming back here—“

Water splashed up against Johnny’s knees before he was reeling himself back against the chalked door, and a body emerged out of the water entirely. Johnny’s eyes laid on the torso and up of the beast who’d been swimming in the water only moments ago.

A scream strangled it’s way up his throat as he struggled to get his feet under him, and when he reached out to snag the door handle to bring himself to his feet — the creature snatched his ankles, forcing him on his back.

The unbelievable weight of it trapped him, cornered against the wet concrete underneath as droplets of freezing salt water sunk into Johnny’s clothes. He pressed his palms into the slick amphibious scales of it to try and pry space but it’s body pressed him further into the ground.

It’s face was in his, dripping, drooling, and Johnny gave a pathetic cry as he leaned his face away from the salty licked of water across his cheeks. Threatening to sting his eyes, he looked to the bucket encrusted with old blood and reached out to snatch it.

Looking to his hands, the bucket went toppling over as the creature snatch it and brought it closure. Food association with the bucket made it thrum, a cat-like trill escaping its chest as it peered in only to see nothing, but smelt the chum lingering on it. It ignored the bucket and turned its attention back on Johnny with disappointment.

“I didn’t mean it!” He cried out. “When I said you looked like my granddad’s baw, I was just kidding!”

The crushing weight on his stomach grew as its tail flapped against the concrete above Johnny’s feet with a PLAP. It’s slimy hands clasped the bottom of his jaw before turning his head left and right.

In deep surveillance, ignoring Johnny’s blabbering, it eyed the scaleless, gill-less, warm blooded creature. Having seen the creature who feeds it as well as cleans the tank as best as he can, it hadn’t been able to get close enough to the surface without being caught. This one, brave enough to taunt it, was interestingly shaped.

It leaned down to sniff at the creature’s flesh.

“I don’t even want the ID back! You can keep it-“ Johnny yelped as the creature ran a slimy tongue up the side of his neck to his temple. “I don’t taste good! I taste horrible! Please don’t eat me! I’m sorry!”

It turned Johnny’s head up, baring his throat before running sharp rows of teeth along his jaw. The salty taste of him was appetizing, it thought. But would he bleed easily?

Johnny cried, looking up to what looked like half a piece of a sardine. He put his hand up to snatch at the decaying thing, and pull it up by its tail. “Here!” He muttered.

Holding it between himself and the finned beast, it set its wide eyes on the sardine before bringing its human mimicked nose to it. The sound that escaped it was something of an excited chirp, and Johnny could feel the vibrations against his own belly.

Tilting its head rather gently to fit the fish in its two rows of teeth, it pushed down on Johnny’s chest, with Johnny grunting in pain, before hitching itself over the ledge and back into the water with a splash that threatened to soak all of Johnny.

Johnny, covered in water and fish slime, sat up baffled. He looked over the ledge to the dark water to see what appeared to be half human-half bioluminescent fish eating a sardine with its fingers. It was human in manner; blinking and eating in bites instead of whole, using its human arms to push up on the ledge and grab Johnny —

“This can’t be happening.”

His voice brought the fish’s attention back up, once it was spotted, and it sunk back deeper into the darkness of the water.

“What the—”

x

Next chapter

fic masterlist

[macgyvermedical]

Hi! I saw your post about the NCCC. Can you tell me a little bit more about what it was like? And maybe some certifications or skils I might want to have before applying that would help me be a shoe in? In a year or two I'd like to leave where I am and travel, and then maybe settle down somewhere else after, and this seems like a good way to go about that and simultaneously chase my interests and find things I enjoy. Basically- I've got time to build skills before I want to apply, and I think it'd be a great fit for me, so I'm just curious about any and all information that would help me be more informed and prepared.

What it's like: (note that I served in 2018, so some of this may be outdated information)

Once you're accepted, they place you at one of 4 campuses throughout the USA. You get a duffel bag mailed to you (anything you bring with you has to fit in this duffel) and a plane or train ticket emailed to you. You have to take that plane or train to the campus, because they pick you up in a bus or van from the airport or station.

Once you get to campus, you go through "in-processing" where you get your uniforms, gear, and PPE, get assigned a room and/or bunk, and meet your instructors for training. If you're a Corps Member, you are also assigned a team and meet your Team Leader at this time (though some campuses do this later in training).

Training lasts about 2 months for Team Leaders and about 1 month for Corps Members. You are with the same cohort (called a "Class") for your whole service term, including training. Training includes how to get along as a team, physical training to ensure you're physically capable of the work demanded of you, and specific training on things like how to drive the van, how to use certain tools and PPE, and how to do any tasks associated with your particular role on the team.

Towards the end of training you go on a 1-2 day mini project, where you go through all the motions of a real project (called a "spike"), except that it's really near by campus and it's pretty much for practice.

Then you go on your first real spike. Depending on where it is and what time of year it is, you might live in a tent, in a dorm, in a half-built house, or any remotely suitable housing supplied by the hosting organization. We lived in a conference room once, and once in an old nursing home wing that wasn't being used.

Food is handled by giving a lump sum of money on a card to the team, and you have to figure out grocery shopping and cooking as a team. This is a challenge, but one that usually works out.

For transportation, the team has one 15-passenger van. Gas is paid for by NCCC. If you have a project that requires a lot of tools, you may have a pickup truck too, but this is rare, and you're not allowed to use it for anything other than project reasons. You keep a log of every time you use the van or truck, for any reason, and there is a 25-mile radius from housing that you're allowed to go.

Spikes are between 3-8 weeks long and you do 4-7 of them during a service term. In between you have "transition" where you go back to campus, debrief from your previous project, brief and train for your next project, and catch up with everyone else. At the end of the service term, you have a final debrief, have a life after americorps meeting, learn job skills like writing a resume, etc... and get your plane ticket home.

What you should do to get prepared:

You don't need certifications. If you need to know something for a project they will train you. If you want something I'd say get First Aid or Wilderness First Aid. Getting a little job experience and a lot of volunteer experience will help you a lot more.

[shiyorin]

Mournival but they are your college roommate

No one asked it but I need to share that :v

Ezekyle Abaddon

Comes to school with a huge duffel bag and toolbox. When you ask what's in it, he just smiles and says "tools." You don't ask anymore.

Always blasting really aggressive rap/metal music super loud. His top jam is "Back in Black" by AC/DC on repeat.

Leaves his dirty laundry everywhere but his bed is always perfectly made with tight hospital corners.

You're pretty sure you saw him behind the wheel of a rusty black van late at night, but the school won't investigate strange disappearances.

Loves party games but is way too competitive. No one wants to play Mario Kart with him anymore after "the incident".

Constantly gets in fights at parties but never seems to get in trouble. Cops take one look at him and just shake their heads like "not dealing with this tonight".

Always standing shirtless in the room doing calisthenics. Claims he's cultivating mass but you think he's just trying to intimidate the RA.

Somehow accumulated the world's biggest knife collection despite the no weapons policy. Admin turns a blind eye for fear of their safety.

Tries to get you to join his intramural flag football team, the "Black Crusaders". They go way too hard and half the other teams have dropped out.

Somehow has a 4.0 GPA while seeming preoccupied with "more important things." Howwww.

Tarik Torgaddon

Brings way too much beer to your first Friday night dorm party. Claims "Bro always shares his drinks!"

Leaves practical jokes everywhere - who put googly eyes on the toothbrushes?!

Always trying to get you to join the campus meme lodge with him. "Come on, it'll be fun! We just post poorly photoshopped history professors, I swear."

Never cleans the mini-fridge. Wonders why mystery science experiments started growing in there.

Burns popcorn at 3am trying to make "late night snacks." Fires the fire alarm and you both get written up.

Steals your lounging spot in the common room to "hold court" and tell loud stories to anyone who will listen.

Hogs the bathroom for hours getting ready to "go out in style" on the weekends. Comes back drenched and you don't wanna know from what.

Leaves you in charge of the dorm when he goes home for breaks. Comes back to three keggers you "somehow forgot" to tell him about.

Somehow always tests positive for COVID right before big exams. You're 95% sure he's faking to get out of studying.

He's a really fun dude and always has your back. Gonna miss this guy after graduation!

Garviel Loken

He wakes up at 6am every morning to do pushups and calisthenics in your room.

Never seen him drink or party. That one time you tried to get him to come to a frat party he responded with "Nah bro I gotta hit the hay early, lifting at 6 am."

Tries to get you to join the campus military re-enactment club. Insists you could benefit from "some discipline and camaraderie".

Cooking? You thought you were the one making ramen but he shows up with a whole homecooked meal like beef wellington from scratch. "My friend Tarik taught me."

That one time the fire alarm went off at 3am? He carried you and your mini fridge down the stairs in one go."

Always does his dishes immediately after using them. Not one speck of food left. The clean freak we all need but don't deserve.

Super into his classes, always studying. You often find him making color-coded notecards at 3am under his desk lamp.

Somehow still finds time to join every club and sport. Is president of the book club, captain of the ultimate frisbee team, volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends.

Has a strict 9pm lights out bedtime. You've tried stay up late to play game but he just throws a pillow at you look and says "some of us have 6ams."

Somehow always has cute girls knocking on your door asking "is Garrie there?". The chad energy is real.

Horus Aximand

The second you meet him you're like "Woah this dude looks EXACTLY like the frat bro president."

Helps you move in but 'accidentally' gets protective plating mixed in with your clothes and snacks. Whoops!

Forms LARP club which is really just him and 3 (actually 4) other guys who are all as intense as he is.

Constantly blasting Sabaton songs from his speaker. Claims it's for "battle prepping" but we all know he just loves some power metal.

Bonding over late night games of Smash Bros while deep in the existential crisis of your freshman year.

Always wears matching sweatsuits with "Little Horus" embroidered on the chest. Claims it's his sport team uniform but you've never seen him play any sports.

Making you try all the experimental protein shakes he conjures up in the mini fridge. You're scared but don't want to hurt his feelings. So many regrets.

Finding mysterious used bandages around the room. He swears they're from "glorious battles" but they're really just from the intramural dodgeball games.

That one time the fire alarm went off and he tried to purge it with a flamer.

Always "forgetting" he can lift a textbook one-handed and showing off to the swole bros.