#i feel like things are just generally damp over there so i'll probably be keeping with that theme

[yandere-daydreams]

B-but I’m British

there are some crimes that can never be forgiven.

[operation-steal-chans-laptop]

Happy Ending Massage

You were standing in the bathroom of your workplace, staring into the mirror, fighting back tears. You just needed a break from it all.

You were overworked and exhausted; when these two things combined, they created a dangerous concoction. One little inconvenience daring you to explode.

You had a crucial deadline coming up, and you were stuck, unsure of how you were going to complete it all in time, only relying on coffee to keep you alive at this point.

You approach the nearest wall, sliding down, curling your knees to your chest, and burying your face in the palms of your hands in an effort to calm yourself.

A buzz from your back pocket takes you out of your reverie and back into the real world.

“fuck.” You huff, dreading the identity of the text's sender, you then relax as you see the notification on your lock screen.

My Love

-You should come over when you're done with work

You unlock your phone smiling sheepishly. You didn't want to involve your boyfriend in this mess, you never did. when you started feeling stressed, you started to avoid him. When this first started to occur he had thought he had done something wrong, but when broke down in his presence, telling him all that was going on, he realized what you had been doing, and every time without fail when you hadn't come over to the dorm for a little while he had known there was something wrong and would start sending encouraging messages. He had sent one every morning for when you woke up and every night for when you went to sleep, trying to relieve some of your stress.

-I wish I could, but I'm just too busy.

-I know, that's why I’m telling you to come over. I can help you relax!

Your stomach started to flutter, and your heart grew heated.

-Okay, but if it's alright with you, I might arrive there a little late.

-what time?

-around 11 or so.

-awww baby, that's so late. Have you been doing this every night?

-no I generally don't take breaks, but tonight I am!

-Y/N! Why?

-I really need to get this done and this is the only way I can do it.

-Since you aren't taking care of yourself, I'm forced to do it for you!

-Felix I'm fine, please.

-no, I don't want to hear it.

-fine :( I should probably return to work before my coworkers become concerned and come looking for me. I'll see you later love.

-Yeah, I love you bunches sweet girl. Please stay hydrated and eat something tonight.

-kk, love you too.

You sigh as you stand up, dusting yourself off, and moving the hairs that delicately frame your face behind your ears; preparing yourself to return to work.

—

10:17 pm

If you wanted to arrive at Felix's dorm by the time specified in your text, you would have to leave now. In reality, you didn't want to go. You had often considered texting Felix to let him know you had to cancel. But you could never do that to him, he had wanted to spend some much needed time with you.Saying no to him was like refusing food to a puppy, it was cruel and you couldn’t/wouldn’t do it.

On the drive there, your mind was occupied by the thought of work, your eyes were heavy, making it dangerous to drive. You were close to the dorm, so you continued on, and before you knew it, you were approaching Felix's door.

Before you could even raise your hand to knock, the door flew open, revealing your boyfriend standing in the yellow glow of the artificial light. His blonde hair damp, your favorite pair of his gray sweatpants sitting low on his waist, and his white shirt sticking snugly to his body displaying his toned abdomen.

You jumped into his arms, signing into his embrace, he smelt of clean detergent and his cedary body wash

“I missed you too,” he chuckles. “I made you something.”

“you didn't have to baby” you mumble into his chest.

“but I wanted to.” He lifts your head off his chest by your chin, his eyes staring back into yours softly, his smile calming, the sight makes you tingle. He tilts your chin up a little more to place a small peck on your lips.

He pulls back, his hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth on your warm skin; His eyes now staring more intensely in yours, burning holes in them. “What's going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” He gives you a kiss on the temple and trails his hand from your cheek to your shoulder down your arm, weaving his fingers in with yours and giving you a reassuring squeeze.

"you." You muster up.

"Good, now let's go to the kitchen, I made you brownies!" you hum contentedly. While eating, Felix tries his best to divert your attention from work by catching you up on all the stupid things the boys have done.

He then interrupts himself mid-sentence and starts a new one, saying, "I just remembered something."

"Hmm," you reply.

"I forgot I had bought some new oil."

"What kind?"

��It's a new massage oil, I was hoping I could try it out on you, if that's okay?”

“Mmm, I don’t know what's in it for me?” You tease.

"my hands all over you," he winks.

"ahhhhh don't say things like that." you say, hiding your hot face in your palms.

"Well, what did you expect me to say?"

“I don’t know, something normal?”

"That was normal."

“ugh. you're insufferable.”

"But you love me that way."

"That isn't the point!"

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT!?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?!”

“YOU STARTED IT!”

You two were now in a heap on the floor; how you got there is a mystery, but what mattered was that you were laughing so hard you were crying and gasping for air, the thought of work completely slipping your mind. You felt light and energized for the first time in weeks.

After some time, you eventually catch your breath. Felix gets up beside you and extends a hand; you take it, and he assists you up while you say, “so how about that massage?”

“yeah? does it sound good?”

“mhm”

"Okay, I'll tell you what, go have a shower, and I'll set everything up."

"okay" a smile framed on your face.

He sent you off with a playful smack on the ass.

"Felix I swear you're lucky I love you!"

"you know you like it, don't deny it"

"surrreee Felix."

You gently giggled all the way to the bathroom, once inside, you couldn't help but feel giddy. Felix always made you feel like. The time had flown by so quickly that it had seemed like just as quickly as you were getting in the shower, you were getting out.

When you step out of the shower, you drape a soft gray towel around your damp body, letting the fabric brush against your now-hard nipples. The towel barely covering the bottom of your butt.

You amble into lix’s candle-lit room, he was seated on his bed while waiting for you to finish your shower. The light of the candles hitting him at just the right angle making him look ethereal

"Oh my goodness, this is wonderful love"

"Do you like it?”

"Of course I do." You respond, half-suppressing a laugh.

Felix had gotten lost staring at your body, the way the water dropped from your hair and over your glowing skin, and the way that the towel scarcely covered anything at all, exposing your cleavage, made him hard.

“ummm, should we get started?”

“mhm”

“Ok, you can leave the towel on if you want, but it will be easier to just go ahead and take it off.” with that you unravel the towel from around you allowing it to fall to the ground, presenting your body to Felix.

"How do you want me?" you say in a sultry voice. Felix's face began to flush.

"Umm... on your stomach please."

When you lay down , Felix grabs the towel, folds it up, and puts it across your ass. He then moves over to the end table and gets the new massage oil he's been dying to try on you.

Felix loved giving massages, it made him happy to be able to reduce your stress while also doing something he utterly loved. Touching you.

Felix puts a few drops of the aromatic oil on his hands and rubs it around, warming it up before straddling your back, utilizing your butt as his own personal seat.

"You ready love?" he asks.

"Mhm"

"M'kay," with your consent, he starts working his delicate hands into your shoulders and down your back.

"Damn pretty girl, why didn't you tell me you were this stressed out?"

"sorry." you whisper.

"It's alright love, all that matters now is that you're here. I'll take care of you, by the time I'm done with you, you’ll be entirely stress-free, I promise" he leans down and kisses the back of your head, it was a bold claim, but not an impossible one. He continues to knead in one spot until all the knots are gone then moving on to another spot doing the same thing. The pressure causes you to moan out.

"I know baby it's going to hurt a little, I'm sorry, but you're going to feel so much better" The oil seals your pores and insulates your body, making you feel hot to the touch.

Felix moves down to the bottom of your legs working his way up to your inner thigh.

"You know there's another way that I can help you relieve all that built up stress." His voice dropping an octave lower and his pointer finger dragging across your throbbing slit making you sigh out.

"Sounds nice."

Felix stands up and approaches the end table once again, this time grabbing lube and your vibrator then walking back over to you, "Can you turn around love?"

Once laying on your back, Felix places one arm on either side of your face, towering over you. He leans down to give you open-mouth kisses along your jaw, down your neck, across your chest and to your navel. He then sits back up and takes the lube, pours it over your clit, and runs his fingers through your folds moving the lube into your crevices. You yelp at the coldness of it.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, then slips your vibrator in you and turns it on.

"Oh lix."

"you're such a good girl, just focus on feeling good. I'll take care of you." His fingers are now rubbing soft circles on your swollen clit, causing you to arch your back into him. "so fucking pretty," he coos. He then laces his mouth to your clit, sucking hard while turning up the vibrator and moving it in and out of you.

He pulls back to admire you, your head thrown back, fingers gripping the sheet below you, and breath heavy, small whines coming from your mouth.

Felix's chin was sparkling with the mixture of your juices and the lube he had applied to your pussy, but he didn’t mind not one bit. He went back for more, sucking harder than before and turning the vibrator to its highest setting, pounding it in and out of you, you cry out squirting all over his face without warning.

It takes you a moment to calm down from your high and realize what had just happened, you quickly cover your face with a pillow to hide your embarrassment.

Felix then turns off the vibrator and pulls it out, “aww baby no don't be embarrassed, that was amazing. You did so good for me.” he comes up pulling the pillow off of your face and places a kiss on your lips.

He giggles and lays down next to you, moving you onto his side so you can rest your head on his chest. He murmurs into your ear, "you were perfect, you released all of your pent up stress!"

"don't you want me to take care of you, your hard baby?"

“Oh well, it will go away. Like I told you, I was gonna take care of you, that's all I wanted today.” He gives you a kiss on the top of your head.

It goes quiet again before Felix speaks up again, "You should stay the night."

"I can't, I have to work in the morning, " You yawn.

"Hmm ok."

Felix knew that if he had caressed your hair long enough, you would go right to sleep.

"Thank you so much, love. You always know just what I need." you say, speech now slurred.

“No problem, beautiful,” his breath steady, one of his hands petting your head the other drawing small shapes on your forearm. All according to his plan you doze off to sleep. "I love you sunshine, sleep well," he whispers off into the darkness of the room, falling asleep not long after.

[moonffe]

i lovedddd my lips might've slipped!! please please please make a part 2

ofc. <3

my lips might've slipped

ethan landry pt2

pt1. pt3 warnings: making out, suggestive stuff, arguing, blood. word count: 7k

A/N: the writers block i got while writing this was almost the end of me... came up with a lot of one shot ideas though so I'll be posting those really soon.

“You left him… there.” Quinn repeated after you, looking bored out of her mind like this happened everyday.

“He was being an asshole, Q.”

“You always think he's being an asshole.“ She shook her head with distaste.

You weren't exactly known for being uncomfortable around people. Actually, it was the other way around. But you couldn't look at her as she ambled towards her closet. You felt embarrassed, tracing the rim of your coffee mug with your finger. “That's just how he acts, Y/N. You out of all people should know this.”

“He used to be different.”

This seemed to pique her interest. “In general or towards you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Both.”

“A lot of stuff has changed since we were kids.” She told you, leaving a bag with vials filled with fake blood next to you on the bed. You understood there was privacy in this apartment, but it was risky to leave this kind of stuff just laying there in her closet. How did she do it? “Richie's gone, dad's more distant than usual…”

Quinn bit her lower lip. You hated drawing all the attention to you when she was going through stuff, too.

“You don't need to—”

“It's fine.” She cut you off, her tone slightly aggressive. She cupped your face in her hands and leaned over you before you could stop her. You weren't self-conscious while being this close to her, Quinn was definitely the person you trusted the most. That's exactly why she noticed your lack of eye contact and was now forcing you to look at her. You didn't want to. You had so much shit bottled up you were scared you would start crying. You winced at the idea, stretching your arm to leave your mug on her night table.

“You're amazing, Y/N. I'm not just saying this because I'm your best friend. You really deserve the best out there, and If my asshole brother can't give you that, then move on.” You tried to retort, but her hand quickly slapped over your mouth. Jesus. “If you say you're not into him one more time, I'll jump out that damn window right now.” Her head nodded towards her bedroom's single window. You lured at her, but you could feel your heart hammering inside your ribcage. “You want him, and he wants you back. I'm not stupid and I know my brother— But if he keeps up with all the bullshit, then stop. I love him, but that doesn't make him a better person.”

Your eyes were starting to water, and hers were still fixated on yours. You licked her palm for the fuck of it. Quinn winced, retracting her hand from your face. “Did you have to do that?”

You wiped your damp eyelashes with the side of your wrist, a knot in your throat. “You weren't letting me go.” She snorted, your body barely swaying from her cleaning her palm on your shirt sleeve.

“Still. That ruined my entire speech.” Quinn had to press her lips together to not laugh. You were aware the situation was probably funny, but you couldn't muster a smile.

Her hand covered your mouth again, expression serious. “Understood?” She waited for you to say the words. You surrendered. The fuck else could you do? “Good.”

“I don't want him.” It's the first thing you said when you were able to speak again.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I'll jump out the window, Y/N.”

You sighed, lifting your gaze from the floor to meet her eyes. “Thanks for telling me all that. I'm not sure it helped, but— I appreciate you caring about me and my… complicated relationships with individuals who do not own a uterus. You're a good friend.”

“Best friend.” She ruffled your hair before reclining on the bed, propping herself on her elbows. “Well, are you gonna tell me what happened between the two of you?”

She'd hate you. She'd beat the absolute shit out of you. Your eyes almost widened at the mere thought of telling her— Yeah, you weren't going through that. “Nice try. No.”

“Did you…” Her eyes narrowed, thoughtful. “Get drunk and kiss him?”

“No.”

She elevated her eyebrows. “Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck, Quinn!” Your face scrunched up, she laughed when you threw a pillow straight to her face. “No!”

“Okay, okay!” She glanced away before looking back at you. “Did you maintain sexual intercourse with my brother?”

You had to rub your temples to alleviate your embarrassment. “That made me want to kill myself.”

“So it's a yes.”

“It's a ‘I'm not talking to you for the rest of the night’.”

“You can't talk to the dead.” She reminded you, sighing as she sprawled out on the bed. You mirrored her, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling, fidgeting with the ring around your finger. You missed wearing some of your favorite jewelry, but times were different, and now you had to keep them hidden in your closet. They were gifts from a certain person…

“Go fuck yourself, respectfully.” You shut your eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips as Quinn's hand slapped over your forehead. She felt up your face until reaching your cheek, your head tilting after she gave it a fake bitch slap.

“I did not take any offense in that.” You couldn't see her face, but the laziness in her voice was obvious.

You stared at the filled bathtub, feeling the weight of your eyelids. Time flew by while you and Quinn were asleep. You usually avoided naps, afraid you'd have that dream again. But this time you were so tired you didn't even think of him. Ethan's presence brought you back to the present. He sprayed fake blood into the water, then turned to you. "You ready?” You hated being this close to him.

“I guess.” You motioned for him to turn around while you took your clothes off and got in the bathtub. You kept your shirt in hand, using it to cover yourself. If you fucking catched him looking at you… “Ready.”

Ethan faced you, eyes briefly lingering downwards before he sighed. “Okay.” He hummed, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he knelt in front of you, focused on inspecting your torso. “This is gonna hurt.”

“We practiced this.” He nodded, still not looking into your eyes. You had to die. Well, not exactly. The plan was to get injured and just make it look like you almost died.

It would be too convenient if you escaped the apartment clean, and too hard to fake your death like Quinn was. So, since you were such a fucking masochist, you agreed to do this.

Your best friend wasn't as good with a knife like her brother was. He knew what he was doing well enough to not damage anything vital, and you were sure he wasn't evil enough to actually hurt you. "Bring it.”

Was he?

You squeezed his shoulder with all your strength as the blade of his knife found its place beneath your ribs. He pulled you closer, letting you bury your face in his neck. You weren't supposed to scream.

“I know. I know it hurts.” He whispered, fingers sliding through locks of your hair. He was trying to comfort you, anyone would in this situation, but the glare you showed him made the look on his face change. He let go of you. “Have it your way, sweetheart.”

You frowned at the pet name. “I'm bleeding. Do you mind?”

“I stayed on the side and didn't go too deep, Y/N. You're not gonna bleed out.” He spat, applying fake blood to your leg. His hand ran over your skin to disperse it over your shin. He had an attitude, you could see it on his face, but he was still being careful.

“And? It still hurts.” You said, trying to hide how damn flustered you were actually getting.

Your hand remained hardly grasping your shirt, trying to keep it in place. Ethan's eyes met yours after you flinched at the cold blood. He looked away, but his gaze returned to your hands after a while. You didn't like it. “What?”

“You’re shaking.” He mentioned. Discreetly, you checked. Your fingers trembled around your shirt, but he shook his head before you could retaliate. “I'm not looking.” His voice was soft, but your personality wasn't.

“You are, though.” And he probably was. Why the hell would he mention it, then?

He gave you a look, but continued with his work. You were trying to relax, you really were, but his touch was making you feel things. The fabric of his gloves touching you with so much gentleness like you were made of porcelain. It was actions that mattered, not words. His thumb traced up your arm, softly pressing on your shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get that mole removed?”

“Ethan.” You grumbled.

He sat back, looking distraught for a second before he made up his mind and met your gaze. “Was it for that guy?” He asked. You could only close your eyes, trying not to snap. “I'm dead serious, Y/N. I want to know.”

You weren't supposed to talk about anything that could or couldn't have happened in the past. And specifically, of how he could know about that mole. “What guy?”

“Johnny.” He choked out. “Your asshole ex.”

You opened your eyes and realized he was, in fact, being serious. His demeanor solemn as he stared, waiting for you to answer him like you didn't have a fucking agreement. “Surprised you remember him.”

“I remember when it comes to you.” His words made your cheeks heat up, though you weren't sure if it was out of surprise or embarrassment.

“What does he have to do with any of this?”

“Did you get it removed for him?” He looked at your shoulder, a vein throbbing on his jaw. “I liked that mole.”

“I don't know, was Tate dressing up for you at the Halloween party?”

He almost looked like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't bring himself up to the task. “Do you care?”

“It's the second time you ask me that.” You paused, and decided to shoot him back. “When it comes to you, I care.”

“Is it bad that I like the sound of that?” He asked, his voice husky. It made your breath hitch.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don't know— Maybe? I didn't ask her to.”

“That's kinda obvious.” It was. But you still wanted to know if it was fucking intentional. “It would be weird.”

“What? Ask my girlfriend to dress up for me?” He chuckled, his amusement tinged with sarcasm. “It would be plain abusive.”

Girlfriend. Your jaw clenched, you couldn't keep living like this. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so much to know he did exactly what you asked him to? He got over you, and you were still the same idiot that drooled over him every time he was nice to you. You hated him.

“You know who'd do that?”

Ethan noticed the change of tone in your voice, so he just hummed in response, wanting to avoid an argument. But by that moment, it was your only way of protecting yourself. Of trying to take your heart away from his reach. “Your dad.”

“You always say that.” You noticed how much you got to him by how forcefully he put the vial down. He leaned in, fingers threading through your hair to make it look like you fought back.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” He paused, his voice wavering. He was struggling to maintain his composure, and you were enjoying it. “But he's my father, and I'm nothing like that man. It's offensive.”

“Nothing like him?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. He met your gaze with conviction, looking like he was about to snap at you.

“Nothing like him.”

“I thought you helped him kill your mom.”

“It's different.” He assured you, a flicker of pain crossing his features. You weren't falling for that shit.

“But you have a relationship with him.”

“Not the relationship I'd like.”

Your teeth caught your lower lip as he got busy again. He applied blood on his gloves for realism, rubbing his palms together to spread it over the black fabric. It wasn't hard for you to notice the missing item, since you were pretty much devouring him with your eyes.

You were unaware that you voiced your thoughts out loud until his eyes focused on you. You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“What?” He inquired, confused.

“Tate's hair tie.”

He just stared at you for a while, lowering his head ever so slightly. “Right.” You frowned.

“Did you guys get into an argument or something?” You were sure the answer was no, but him exhaling took you by surprise.

“It's stupid.”

“What did you do?”

“We were kissing and… I don't know, I was drunk. Mixed things up and called her by your name.”

His confession made your face fall. “Is that supposed to be romantic? Because it doesn't fucking feel like it.”

“She said no strings attached.” He glowered at you.

“Then why did you take it off?”

“Because she was mad.” He bit his lower lip, playing with the lace of his left boot to avoid looking at you. “I never— I never felt something for her, Y/N. But I think she started falling in love with me.”

No, no, no, no— You weren't sitting through that shit. Your best friend was one wall away, if you could just… “Quinn!” You shouted, but his bloody glove clamped over your mouth. When the fuck did he get that close to you?

“No, listen.” He groaned. ”You can't just always push me away.”

You moved your head to the side to push his hand away. His nose only inches away from touching yours. He was breathing heavily, and you were ashamed to admit it was making you nervous, he was making you nervous. “I don't wanna hear it, Ethan.”

“Can you give me one chance?” He begged, his hands moved to the wall, pinning you against it. “Just one fucking chance to talk?”

You started feeling dizzy while his eyes were on yours, and you realized you forgot to breathe. How to breathe. Fuck, you were weak. “Go on.” You wheezed.

“Thank you, I—” He swallowed. “I never felt something for her. I never felt… anything since we broke up. That's why I was using Tate. Because I was trying to feel something, I was trying to feel alive again—”

“So you just used her?” You cut him off, you were gripping your shirt against your bare body for dear life. “Like she was disposable.”

“I never thought you out of all people would care about that.” You rolled your eyes. He grabbed your chin to stop you from looking away from him. “We said no strings attached, Y/N. It couldn't even be called a relationship— It wasn't one. We would just make out and I would go as her date at parties.”

“You still looked pretty damn close.” You huffed, jealousy clouding your senses. “I don't wanna know about how you switched saliva with that bitch—”

“You just asked me to tell you!” He protested, your hand slapping over his mouth. You stayed silent, trying to get a clue on what was going on outside. It was very faint, but you could hear the group still yapping and laughing.

“If they hear you, it's over.” You grimaced.

“I'm sorry.” He coed.

“It's fine…” A low sigh escaped your lips, the soft fabric of his cloak between your fingers as you absentmindedly adjusted the hood.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked me.”

“But you never told me anything before.” You paused, locking eyes with him. His big, earnest brown eyes that held rare vulnerability. You wanted to kiss him. “Why is it different this time?”

His fingers traveled up your arms, cradling your wrists tenderly as they were still pressed against his neck. “You know why.” He murmured, a tinge of pain underlying his words, causing your guts to twist and turn inside of you. Then you realized maybe they actually were. You still had a cut on your side.

“We're not good for each other.”

Ethan grimaced, shaking his head. “You keep saying that, but you're the only person I've felt something for—”

“Do you want me or need me, Ethan?” You interrupted him, he looked confused for a second. “Because they're two different things. And if you need me, it's not love.”

“I need you because I want you.” His face held a sense of urgency. What did he want you to say?

“What do you think is going to happen? If the same thing from last time repeats itself—”

“We'll get through it.” He nodded his head, his features shifting to show a crazed, desperate glimmer in his eyes that made him look out of his mind. “I want a future with you. I want you. Just you. Please, just— just think about it, alright? Please, let me… just let me…”

His plea hung in the air when you pressed your mouth on his. He groaned, his soft lips easily returning the kiss. The two of you grinned when he lost balance and you had to hold his shoulders, keeping him in place. He was still on his knees, after all.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, gliding and rubbing over yours. Your fingers tangled between his messy curls, fingertips fondling his scalp and making him kiss you even more eagerly. It was slow, but you could tell he had been wanting to do that for a long time. Ethan let out a sound, and you questioned if it was a sob or he was just really enjoying himself. Did he really miss you that much? To cry the second you kissed him? His muscular arms snaked around your body, the softness of his cloak against your bare, cold skin feeling like heaven on earth to you.

He was holding you like you would disappear if he let go, and maybe he was right. Ethan was addictive. He was like a drug you couldn't get enough of, and you were just wondering what would happen when he walked out that door and you found yourself alone, feeling guilty for falling into temptation.

“You're ready.” His lips were wet and he was breathing hard when he pressed his forehead against your own. You gave a small hum to acknowledge his words. “Remember the plan?”

You hummed again. “I need to leave you now.”

“Alright.” You finally opened your eyes, a little too bewitched by the boy in front of you for your brain to have any logical structure. His minty breath hit your lips as he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips you gladly reciprocated.

He stood up straight and grabbed the empty vials from the floor while you recollected your thoughts, a nauseous sensation sweeping over your stomach at the thoughts your brain was, for some reason, forming.

What if something happened to him? “If they hurt you, I'll slit their fucking throat.”

Ethan bit his lip to hold back a smile, his knee bumping against your calf. “Didn't consider you a romantic.” He stared down at you, his grin was contagious.

“I prefer the term psychotic, but thanks anyway.”

His gloved hand affectionately ruffled your hair, sliding down to your cheek as his lips pressed a kiss on it. “Try not to move too much, alright? I promise I'll make you dinner after this is over.”

You snorted, your hands finding place in his lightly muscular chest as you pulled him down to your height. He finally gave in, revealing a set of white, straight teeth as he smiled. “You're gonna burn the house down.”

You had a lot of memories of sixteen year old Ethan trying to cook, he was a fire hazard near a stove.

“We'll order takeout, then." He said in a low tone, giving your forehead one last kiss. Then your temple, then your lips. “It's a promise.” You watched him rise from the floor and leave, chewing on your lip as you heard the faint voices of him and his sister arguing about something.

Quinn was bloody and ready, they just had to start making noise to catch the group’s attention. Your breathing slowly increased in pace as the realization of what just happened started hitting you. You shouldn't have kissed him, you shouldn't have let him kiss you, you practically just told him yes—

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You threw your shirt aside and groaned in pain. You definitely couldn't move much with a wound that big. Successfully grabbing your phone from the floor, you saw Quinn's text.

Took him a while to leave. Everything alright?

Not really.

Your finger tapped on the side of your phone impatiently. Come on. Come on, come on, come on— you sighed when she started typing.

Did he try something?

We kissed.

Was it consensual?

Yes. That's why i feel so fucking shitty. I shouldn't have.

We'll talk about this later alright? I need to get out there.

Okay.

You laid back on the bathtub and your face scrunched up. Fuck, it was hurting you. Was it pathetic that you couldn't even feel the pain before because you were busy worrying about Ethan? It probably was. He was still in your mind, he had been since you were seventeen.

There was a reason why you broke up, a reason why you tried to avoid him all these months. Guess you can't fall out of love with someone this fast, you had no idea why you thought you could achieve that. It was Ethan Kirsch we were talking about. That made it even harder.

Your eyes couldn't stare at the white ceiling for much longer, you were starting to blink a lot and you somehow feeling yourself losing blood. You didn't know if that was possible, or you were starting to hallucinate. Only thing you knew for sure, is you were dizzy as fuck. There were screams and thuds resonating through the thin walls of the apartment, the sounds of footsteps and running.

You weren't sure of how much time passed since Ethan left, but the voices and slams on the door became closer, a lot louder. Your eyes were starting to open again at the closeness of the noises. Someone called your name. Screamed your name, actually. It wasn't hard for you to recognize Mindy's voice. You blinked, trying to adjust to the lighting of the bathroom as Chad's sister noticed the crimson water in the bathtub, panting.

“Fuck, you gotta come with us!” Her eyes drifted somewhere else and yours followed. Sam was holding the door to the living room, with your ex-boyfriend relentlessly pounding on it. She looked horrified.

“Help her put something on. Fast!” She commanded, Mindy nodded and attempted to help you out of the water, but you kept shaking your head and pushing her arms away.

“I can't walk, I can't walk, I can't walk…”

“You're gonna die if you stay here!” Sam yelled.

Mindy choked out a breath, grabbing your pile of clothes from the floor. “I'm sorry about Quinn, but you need to come with us!”

“I can't— I won't. He thinks I'm dead.”

“With all the screaming, no, he doesn't anymore!” Sam ran towards you, hugging your shoulders to pull you out of the water. Mindy's eyes were wide and her hand was clutching at the wound on her arm after leaving you to put your underwear and shirt back on. Ethan was banging on the door harder every time, and Sam was starting to get impatient.

You rushed into Quinn's room and your jaw flew open at the sight of Anika bleeding that much. What did Ethan do to her?

The door creaked as it broke. Sam dashed into Quinn's room, and she and Mindy barricaded it with a closet. Your gaze shifted to Sam's boyfriend, staring at you and Anika bleeding out from the other window. Billy's daughter was looking for a way out, and you weren't exactly sure of what was happening while you stared at the door, wondering how much it would take Ethan to break it like the past one. Anika was whimpering, your arm wrapping around her absentmindedly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam panted, catching your attention. Ethan was taking too long… And Danny was using a… ladder. To help you cross. What the fuck? “You three go first!” Sam turned to you. You glanced at Mindy, who looked offended.

“Someone needs to hold the door, Sam! Anika and Y/N are losing blood!” She shouted. “Go!”

“Shit…” Sam gave you a look before going first. Mindy was still holding the door, and Anika clutched her stomach, trying to contain as much blood as possible. You started blinking, feeling cold sweat run down your temples. You laid back on the bed, knowing you had to stay conscious for this to work. Mindy wasn't getting away from the door…

“I'll hold it.” You offered, stumbling with your own feet as you got up.

“You're practically dying, I'm not leaving you to do this!” She scowled, but you ignored her words and still stood next to her, pushing the closet onto the door.

“So now you're being nice to me?” You bit the inside of your cheek, because you knew this was probably the last time you'd see her.

“I was wrong.” She choked out, giving you a nod. No, she wasn't. Sam yelled for someone to go next. You and Mindy looked at Anika. She was the closest to passing out.

You started falling asleep before waking up again, you had to wait for Anika to get a little closer to Danny's window… when your eyes opened, you realized you fell asleep for another second. Shit. You glanced back, seeing Ethan's arm fully in the room and swinging his knife through the small opening of the door. You glared at Mindy. If she pushed back one more time, she was going to fucking hurt him.

You faked passing out, collapsing sideways to push her down onto the floor. Ethan kicked the door open after you landed on top of Mindy. She struggled to push you from on top of her, but she managed to... without enough time to get to the window. Sam and Anika's screams echoed as Ethan's hands closed around Mindy's neck, choking her right beside you.

You opened your eyes, seeing hers widen. Mindy's lips parted as if to yell something, but Ethan slammed her down on the floor, pressing harder on her neck until she gradually stopped fighting back. Her arms fell limp, and you glanced up at him. Anika was next.

You were faking being passed out, so you didn't really know what was going on until a loud thud reached your ears. Holy shit. Did she fall?

You stayed still, listening to Ethan's footsteps with your eyes closed. He knelt down beside you, you caught your lower lip between your teeth.

"Good girl." He praised, caressing your cheek with two of his gloved fingers. He forgot to turn off his voice changer.

“Do you think they're going at it?” Ethan's head turned to look at you, arms folded across his stomach. His chest rose and fell softly with each breath, the Christmas lights that took you half an hour to untangle and install in Quinn's car hitting his face directly.

You knew he was cold— you could tell. But he wasn't saying it out loud. You felt guilty. He told you to bring thicker blankets, but you completely forgot with how much your best friend kept rambling about her new boyfriend while you packed for your road trip.

Your forehead wrinkled as you munched on a Skittle, nodding emphatically “Is that even a question? Definitely.”

Ethan reached for a handful of candy from the bowl in your hands, propping himself on an elbow. “You think? I thought they only came here because he wanted to know the woods.”

You rolled your eyes, his expression curious as he chewed. “You know Quinn.”

“But I don't know the guy.”

“He's probably a jock who just wants sex, Eth. They all are. and Quinn is…” You squinted, searching for words. “Quinn.”

“Don't call her that.” He protested, pausing mid-movement to glare at you.

“Don't look at me like that.” You retorted, bringing the bowl to your chest to protect it from him. Ethan stared at you through his long eyelashes, apathetic. You let out a groan when he reached out to grab something behind you, his chest inadvertently ending up above your legs. “Personal space, mister.”

“I just want my water…” He grumbled under his breath, the two of you sharing a menacing look after he sat up straight again.

“She's my best friend. I know her more than you do.”

“Is that so?” He twisted the cap open, challenging you. “How?”

“You're like… okay, let's put it this way. You're family.” The way he rolled his eyes made you crack a smile. He looked adorable with his tousled, curly hair imprinted by the pillow. The two of you had woken up from a two-hour nap just about ten minutes ago, and you were a sucker for freshly awake, moody Ethan. “Would she tell your dad what she did last night with a guy she found at a party? No. You're the younger sibling, it's the same principle.”

“She tells me things.” He sounded almost offended, suddenly forgetting he was about to take a sip of his water.

“Yeah, PG-rated things.”

“I'm eighteen.”

“And? Wait til you're 21 to brag about your age.”

He shook his head slightly, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “You're not even 21 yet.”

“Do you see me flexing about my age? No.”

Ethan let out a sigh, probably tired of your shit already and grabbed his pillow, laying his head down on it again. You felt your face fall as your features softened. Maybe you were a little too harsh on him. You stared, because he was probably the most beautiful guy you'd met. The dark circles under his eyes were noticeable, pale skin almost translucent.

He was worried, and him being worried made you worried, so… that was inconvenient. Richie left Modesto with Sam the day before, and while you trusted him to man the fuck up and make things go as planned, Ethan didn't.

“He's gonna be alright, Eth.” You reassured him.

“Why did we come here?” He mumbled, your heart twinging at his small sniff of him. You should've brought the extra blankets…

You delicately caressed his cheek, his eyes surrendering to your apologetic touch. You felt more confident in fondling his skin and feeling the warmth beneath your fingertips. If you could just… Your thumb brushed over his lower lip before you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his soft forehead.

“Quinn's supposed to be with me, so I can't be home or your dad will suspect she lied. And as for you…” You paused, and Ethan's lips began to twitch into a wide smile, eliciting a chuckle from you. “Consider it a favor, you never go out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He teased, his eyes lazily opening. “That's sweet.”

“Never sweeter than you, baby girl.” You caressed his lower lip, his eyes rolling as he pushed your hand away. “You're mean to me.” You showed him a pout, and he just shook his head.

“Deal with it.”

You tugged at his blanket to discover part of his chest, getting a frown you completely ignored when you turned around, showing him your back. Quinn was a few cars away from you, but far enough so you couldn't hear or know what was going in there.

You almost winced. Not like you wanted to know. Apparently this was a popular place for people to come and hook up. You were just closing your eyes and hoping you wouldn't hear anything. Even finding a racoon would probably be better than that shit.

"It would probably be uncomfortable." Ethan mused after a while, and you got on your side to frown at him.

"Are we still discussing this?" Your smile immediately faded at his raised eyebrows. "Uhm— It's cold, they'd freeze."

"Not big enough to move."

"What if a fox saw the lights and started scratching the door in the middle of it?" Ethan frowned before the two of you chuckled. At least you were making him laugh now. You were a bad friend.

"If there's not a blanket under them, it'll hurt their backs." You didn't give it much thought before nodding in agreement, eyes slowly drifting downwards to look at the blanket beneath the two of you. The idea that popped up in your head scared you. He was telling you this because… Lifting your chin again, Ethan's gaze met yours, and next thing you knew, he leaned in, kissing you.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands finding his hair and playing with it while he stretched his arm to grab his pillow. His arms wrapped around your waist to have support of your body and lay your head on the pillow, your back pressing against the fuzzy blanket. His thighs straddled your legs. “Is this okay?” He breathed out, looking down at you, but he didn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

You answered by firmly pressing your lips onto his again. Ethan grunted into the kiss, returning it like his life depended on it. His body was so soft and comfortable against yours, you barely felt any pain when he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, but it was still uncomfortable. “Eth, my hair…” He stopped, noticing his arms pressing down on your hair.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” He quickly apologized, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I'll be if you keep going.” He nodded, obeying. Your thoughts weren't the clearest thing at the moment. You wanted this so much and you had been wanting it for a long time, the feeling was similar to being high. Even better. This was it. You had him. He had you. You lost yourself in all the caressing, mind clouding with the feeling of him, the touch of his fingertips on your neck and his big hand wrapping around your susceptible throat as he kissed you.

His body weight on yours was taking the air out of your lungs, but the feeling of being helpless only helped increase the violent hammering of your heart inside your ribcage. You adored him. Every single inch of him. You were panting, the heat all the pillows and blankets around the two of you were providing making you sweat badly.

You helped him pull his black hoodie over his head, his bare arms squeezing you against him immediately after. "I'll take care of you, okay? Just relax." He kissed the corner of your mouth, lips trailing down to press gentle kisses onto your neck. You threw your head back, Quinn's pink knit sweater just lying there in the driver's seat, making your mouth go dry.

Why did she leave it there? As a reminder? A reminder that the two of you shouldn't be doing anything weird because you were just friends? Because the person who was kissing your neck right now was your best friend's younger brother? No, you were just being paranoid. That was straight up fucking schizophrenic.

"You're not letting me lay you down." He uttered in a low, guttural tone. You glared at his words.

"Because I'm comfortable like this."

"With your elbows flexing like that?" He withdrew his mouth from your neck, staring up at you, out of breath. "Really?"

"Are you mad at me right now?" You inquired. Ethan looked away before starting to get up. "Can you please not—"

"No."

"What did I do!?"

"Nothing," he snarled. You sighed as he offered his hands to help you up. Taking them, you brought your legs to your chest awkwardly. It was clear he wanted answers with how he stared at you, and he knew you too well to lie to him. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't... feel right." You choked out, glaring up at his face, and wishing he would understand. Ethan looked taken aback but quickly recovered.

"This doesn't feel right?"

"Yeah."

"Is it because of me?" He asked, and the look you gave him was offended.

"No, of course not. But you're Quinn's—"

"Brother, yeah. She doesn't care." His eyes narrowed. Was he fucking mocking you right now?

"How do you know?"

"It's Quinn."

"Don't be saying that about my best friend.”

Ethan's jaw clenched, it took him a moment to collect himself before he looked away from your face, exhaling the breath he was holding. “Alright.”

“Alright.” You agreed.

The two of you fell silent, focusing anywhere else that wasn't each other. Ethan fidgeted with the blanket, eyes on your phone laying next to the candy bowl. You stared at the rings wrapped around your fingers, chewing on your lip. You had to get up— you knew that. One of the two of you would eventually have to.

This was the smartest decision, and yet you felt empty. Like you had just closed the door that led to the single thing you had dreamt about for years but weren't able to get. It was alright, you tried to tell yourself. You had a friendship to keep. A great one.

Ethan knew the good and bad parts of you. He had seen you at your lowest, and he still stayed. Why? Because he was your friend. Your best friend. The one boy you had shared everything with. But if that was true, then why was there a difference in what you felt toward Richie and Ethan? Richie was your friend, and Ethan was... something more.

Your chest caved and squeezed your heart as you sighed. The little sound caught the brunet’s attention, prompting you to look up at his zealous face too. It took two seconds of eye contact for the two of you to start making out. Again. You rolled on the blanket a few times, almost dislodging the Christmas lights with how much the two of you were moving. You were on top when Ethan pushed your shoulders, his face scrunched up.

“This is wrong.”

You breathed heavily, confused. “What? Why?”

“I should be taking you to a hotel.” His grip on your shirt tightened, but he looked more mad at himself than at you as he tried to catch his breath. “For starters.”

“Oh my god, Ethan! Why would you—”

“Listen to me.” He demanded. His hands slid from your waist to your cheek, cupping your face in his hands. “We don't even have—”

“I'm on the pill.” You spoke over him. He paused, but he didn't look phased at all.

“That's only 87% effective.” Ethan's lips twitched, displeased, confusing you.

“How do you know that?”

He shook his head, delicately tucking away strands of your hair. “I wanted to be informed when this happened.”

“You were waiting for this to happen!?” The red creeping up to his face made you know you probably came off more panicked than you intended to. Shit.

“Weren't you?” He tried to play it off miserably. You moved away from on top of him, looking around for your missing shirt desperately.

“No. I was just praying every day it wouldn't.”

“Does that mean you—” He hesitated as he swallowed, sitting up. His eyes never left your face, looking vulnerable. Those angel eyes looked so fucking vulnerable you just wanted to hug him. But wasn't this an argument? You had to make up your mind. You found your shirt, but you didn't even care anymore. “Is this a one night stand? I mean— Are we doing this just because we feel like It, or is this your way to say you love me back?”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Fuck, no… “Put your hoodie on.” You groaned, and Ethan looked away from you frustratedly

The only reason you weren't answering him was because you were scared. This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not that soon…

“I do love you, Ethan.” The words just slipped out of your lips, surprising both of you. He raised his head, making sure you weren't joking. “And I don't want to break your heart.”

“You will if we keep living like this.” He admitted. “What's stopping you?”

You tried to not look down, you really did, but you were too much of a coward to not start playing with your rings. “Honestly? It's too messy. I don't want things to get weird with Quinn—”

“She doesn't care, Y/N.” He interjected, and you closed your eyes in frustration. That's what he always said, but you couldn't know for sure. You didn't want to find out. “If anything, I think she would be happy you chose someone she approves of.”

“I'm gonna fuck up my relationship with Quinn if this goes wrong…” You rubbed your temples, but looked up at the silence coming from him. He looked tense, like he was about to burst out the car and murder the first person he saw. You moved away slightly, contemplating.

You'd go to hell if you admitted out loud you found that attitude of his… enticing. He let out a breath when he saw you crawling towards him. His arms snaked around you, holding you close and lifting you slightly to move you onto his lap. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm not.” He crooned, you winced slightly as his nose pressed into the curve of your bare neck, next to your bra strap. He took in a deep breath.

“Sure.” You gripped the back of his black tank top, trying to relax. “You'll be wrinkled all over by the time you're 40 if you keep frowning.”

“I'm not mad at you, Y/N.” He repeated, he looked honest as his watery eyes met yours. Why did he look like he wanted to cry?

“And that's it?” You questioned. “I'm supposed to calm down because you told me it'd be okay?”

“Am I lying? Quinn's gonna be happy for us, I know that. But if you don't feel ready… then we can hide it.” He nodded solemnly, you raised an eyebrow.

“So, what? Am I like your lover now?”

“No.” He cringed, you let out a chuckle as he stopped caressing you. “That's not what I meant— We can just stay low for now. Not tell anyone about us.”

He waited, and after a moment of pondering, you sighed. You just had to look for the right moment to tell Quinn. You'd be more prepared by then. “Okay.”

Ethan's lips parted, curls wiggling as he nodded. You didn't know why he was like this, but you had to calm him down. You always had to. Ethan was aggressive, that was obvious. But he also used to be so sensitive.

“It's alright, Eth. It's alright…” You grabbed his face, staring at his big expressive eyes before pressing your mouth on his tenderly. Ethan muttered a "thank you" before slowly burying his face into your neck again. You felt his soft eyelashes against your skin as he closed his eyes, arms squeezing your waist.

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VII.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Our main character gets further involved with her other love interest. Javier gets jealous.

WORD COUNT: ~9k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: Mentions of religion, i'll say it once and i'll say it again: slow burn, officer!Javi P because i think that's like really hot, Jealous!Javi too, some lore is explained, love triangle, mutual pining, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: hiiiii here's this week's chapter! i just love love LOVE this world and these characters, i rlly hope you all feel the same (: if u see any typos... uhhh... pretend u didn't :p anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

True to her word, Paloma fulfills her promise and chauffeurs Sloane home the following afternoon. Their journey is smooth sailing, filled with belting out songs and animated chatter, so much so it seems as though they reach their destination in the blink of an eye. 

Nestled far into the horizon, the house resides amidst a vast expanse of parched grassland. Its isolation strikes her immediately, as if it's purposefully distanced from any signs of civilization. The last notable landmark has faded into the rearview mirror, easily twenty minutes behind them.

“ It’s so far from everythin’, how did August know this woman again? ” As they draw nearer, she casts her gaze upon the home, curiosity guiding her observations.

Initially, the house appears unassuming, boasting a generous Southern size. Yet as her eyes trace its contours, the subtle hints of antiquity emerge, revealing its longstanding presence in the landscape. The intricate detailing, weathered by time, whispering tales of decades past. A testament to its timeless appearance.

Amidst her admiration, a wave of relief washes over her; it’s a stark improvement from the dreary confines of the motel where her friend was staying at.

“ He looked after her way back when she lived in Fayette. ” Slo answers plainly, releasing her seatbelt as the car halts, its engine settling into a quiet then nonexistent hum. With a fluid motion, she swings the door ajar and gracefully steps out onto the gravel, stretching her limbs.

Paloma mirrors Slo's action, sliding on her sunglasses as the sun casts its unyielding rays upon them. The sky stretches endlessly, devoid of any clouds to offer respite. Already, the heat sears against her skin causing beads of sweat to form, clinging to her like a damp embrace.

Immersed in her surroundings, she takes in the scenery when August's familiar voice draws near. Her attention shifts and a radiant smile illuminates her face as he closes the distance and envelops her in a heartfelt embrace.

“ Looks like you hit the jackpot. ” She tells him once they pull away, banking on her sunglasses to conceal her admiring gaze as it traces the intricate tattoos adorning his bare arms. His thin undershirt offers a canvas for her to wander, inviting her eyes to linger on the myriad designs. A glimmer of gold catches her attention—a simple chain draping from his neck, the pendant dangling with a symbol unfamiliar to her.

“ I keep thinkin’ they made a mistake. M’waitin’ for the other shoe to drop. ” He remarks, his head subtly shaking as his blond hair catches the sunlight, casting a radiant glow around him.

“ Just enjoy it while it lasts then, ” She teases, her hands enfolding his arm as he guides her towards the house. “ But seriously, this is a blessin’. Now y’all can all be together again. ” He’s told her about the struggles his group has faced. Constantly displaced and unable to be together for months.

Their unconventional religious beliefs had made them outcasts in many narrow-minded towns, branded as some sort of demonic cult by most. It’s quite ridiculous.

“ M’gonna go take a shower. You good? ” Sloane asks Paloma once they’re inside, a hint of a smirk on her face at her friend’s growing closeness with August.

“ I’m fine and in very capable hands. ” She jests, playfully nudging him.

With a gracious sweep of his hand, August leads her on the grand tour, showing her all around the property. The outward appearance of this home is deceiving, as its interior dimensions far exceed expectations. It’s fully furnished, with the majority of bedrooms already claimed by members of August's collective.

She still doesn’t know much about them, only acquainted with the sparse details he's disclosed to her.

Seeking purpose, these wandering spirits have weathered the scrutiny of their communities for deviating from societal norms. Many among them are runaways or troubled youth, adrift with nowhere else to turn.

August possessed a unique talent for uniting fragmented souls. He wielded his philosophies and unconventional perspectives like a beacon, illuminating pathways to security and a profound sense of belonging for those who agreed to walk alongside him.

Not quite family, but a bond akin to it—a group of individuals capable of rescuing one another.

“ Were you two related? ” She inquires with a curious tilt of her head as they descend the large staircase, her hand still encircling his bicep.

“ Nah. I used to work at the grocery store back home and she would come in all the time needin’ a lotta help. After a few visits, she asked if I wanted a side gig. Basically just mowin’ her lawn, fixin’ things around her house and what not. I agreed and did that for a few years till she moved away. Hadn’t heard from from her till recently when I was passin’ through Fayette. Her lawyer tracked me down and told me she left all this,” Gestures to everything around them, “ To me. With a small fortune, too. Turns out she had no other family so she wrote me into her will shortly after I started workin’ for her. ” 

Paloma absorbs all this information, engrossed entirely. “ That’s quite the story. Crazy how an act of kindness years ago ended up in all this. There’s a lesson in there somewhere. ” She remarks as they step into the spacious central area of the house, offering a panoramic view of both the front and back yards.

“ What goes around comes around, yeah? ” A beguiling smile plays across his face as he leads her into the backyard, and her eyes widen in astonishment.

The landscape is strikingly manicured, adorned with tastefully arranged outdoor furniture and a meticulously crafted stone fountain serving as its centerpiece. Not far off lies a sprawling garden, brimming with an array of crops and vegetables. Adjacent to it stands a quaint barn, completing the picturesque scene.

“ This is beautiful. Add a few farm animals and this place could be self-sustaining. ” She understands the immense effort required to maintain a place like this, but judging by its current state, it seems to have been well cared for. Now that they're here, she's confident that August harbors ambitious aspirations to elevate this space into something remarkable.

“ We got some pigs, a cow and a few chickens in the barn. ” He reveals to her, as if reading her mind, and she’s itching to get a look. She wishes she and her father had the time and resources to have farm animals of their own. Hell they have the land for it.

Just then, a young girl, her demeanor hesitant, approaches August and tells him he’s needed inside.

Paloma's gaze holds onto her, her appearance suggesting late adolescence. A slight ache grips her heart as she recalls the weighty traumas that drew these individuals together. The realization that someone so youthful has endured immense suffering tugs at Paloma's sentimentality.

“ Be right back. Feel free to look around. ” She nods as he separates from her, following the soft spoken girl inside the house. 

Driven by curiosity, Paloma wanders about, stooping down to scrutinize the garden's burgeoning offerings. The sight of the fresh produce ignites a twinge of envy within her. Vegetables have never been her forte, explaining why her home garden mainly boasts an array of flowers.

Suddenly, a flicker of motion catches her attention nearby. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes narrow in curiosity before widening with delight as she discovers a playful kitten leisurely exploring its surroundings.

A large, goofy smile tugs at her lips as she attempts to scoop the animal into her arms to no avail. It scurries away before she can even reach for it.

“ C’mere little kitty… ” Her voice trails after it as she chases it around, weaving through the area until it darts towards the cellar of the house. Paloma nearly grasps it, but the kitten slips away into the thicket of bushes. Just as she resigns herself to letting it go, a faint voice drifts from behind the weighty cellar doors.

“ Hello? Is someone there? Please help me… ”

Her brows crease in confusion, struggling to decipher the person's muffled words. She leans in closer, on the verge of speaking, when the touch on her forearm interrupts her impending words.

A sound of surprise pushes past Paloma's lips as she swiftly turns her head, her eyes locking onto August. His brows knit together in a puzzled frown as he regards her, then his gaze flicks toward the cellar.

“ Whatcha doin’, sweetheart? ” He asks, loosening his grip on her arm and she pulls it to her side, straightening her posture.

“ I thought I heard, uh, someone askin’ for help. ” She stammers, gesturing towards the basement, a sudden unease settling at the base of her spine.

He hums in acknowledgement, eyes not leaving hers. “ S’probably someone workin’ on the busted pipe this place came with. Gabriel! ” He calls for his friend, who appears seemingly out of nowhere. “ Go see if they need anythin’. Paloma heard someone callin’ for help. ” 

The two men share a silent exchange, their eyes conveying a conversation of their own. Then, with a nod from Gabe, he departs as swiftly as he arrived.

“ There’s somethin’ special I wanna show you. ” August starts to speak, drawing her focus away from the imposing cellar doors and extending his hand toward her.

She nods in agreement, no longer feeling uneased, intertwining their fingers as he guides her back toward the backyard, but this time leading her to a sprawling greenhouse.

A soft gasp escapes her as the structure comes into view, its presence previously unnoticed. He chuckles softly at her surprised reaction, enjoying her astonishment.

“ You like? ” He queries as they step inside, and her response is an eager nod, her gaze sweeping across the diverse assortment of plants and flowers with fascination.

Paloma finds herself unable to contain her excitement, delving into a torrent of facts and anecdotes about his greenery. It's only when she's passionately discussing azaleas and the challenges she’s facing nurturing the ones she planted earlier in the season that she abruptly pauses, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she realizes she's been carried away,  “ Sorry, I didn’t mean t’get all rambly…. ”

“ Don’t apologize little dove. You look so cute like this. ” As his fingertips delicately tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she instinctively leans into his tender touch. The endearment he uses makes her heart flutter, her thoughts briefly flickering to Javi as she nervously nibbles on the inside of her cheek.

Not now, Paloma.

“ Let me take you out one night baby. ” He suddenly says and her eyes widen in surprise. 

“ You want to go out with me? ” She asks, for some reason not believing him.

“ Of course. Thought I had made it obvious with the way I’ve been throwin’ myself at you. ”

Her bottom lip finds itself caught between her teeth, not oblivious to the way he has been coming on to her. Since she had someone else on her mind, she hadn’t really reciprocated any of his advances.

But after the kiss that never happened and the silence that followed, she figures this is exactly what she needs to get over the sting of Javier’s wordless rejection.

“ I would love to but everyone in town talks too much and if my dad got word that I was out on a date… ” 

An undertone of irritation seeps into her words, noticeable even to him, and something flickers in his eyes as he catches onto it.

“ Don’t worry about that, okay? I’ll handle it. You just worry about gettin’ all pretty for me, which won’t take much considerin’ how perfect you are. ”

A flutter of warmth dances in her stomach at his sweet words. 

“ Okay… then yes, I’d love to go out with you. ”

A handsome expression takes over his countenance, “ Perfect. Gotta get some stuff straightened out around here but I’ll call you. Hope I can talk to you before then, though? ” 

“ Slo has my number… if you call and daddy answers just hang up and try again later. Don’t want him goin’ on one of his little tangents. ”

A smirk dances on August's lips, his mischievous urge to test the limits and provoke the sheriff evident. Yet, despite his inclination, he restrains himself, recognizing the strides he's making with her and unwilling to jeopardize the progress.

“ Yes ma’am, anythin’ else I need t’be made aware of? I like my manhood and would like to keep it attached to my person. ” He jokes about being castrated by her father and she snorts, rolling her eyes.

“ S’all. Don’t take too long ‘straightening things out’. If not I might lose interest. ”

His eyes darken at her words despite her playful tone, “ You won’t. ” August says with a conviction that has her rubbing her thighs together.

“ Then it’s a date. ” She nods, and they exchange an amorous stare, “ I should probably head back. Got some chores I gotta get done but I appreciate you showin’ me around. This is a beautiful place, you’ve really been blessed, August. It’s only up from here. ”

“ Any time. M’glad you came by today... Oh, and Paloma? ” He begins and she looks at him puzzledly.

“ Yeah? ”

“ I think it’s best if we keep this visit a secret between us. We’ve finally got some peace and quiet to be ourselves without being ostracized by the community and we’d like to keep it that way. Many of us ain’t ever had a place to call home so losing this… feeling uncomfortable here would negate all we’ve been working towards. ”

She nods, fully understanding how big of a deal this is to all of them and she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin their solace.

“ Of course. I won’t tell a soul. The only person I’d consider tellin’ already lives here. ” She giggles and his lip quirks up into a small smile.

He leads her back to her car, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, sending a wave of warmth through her. They bid farewell, and as August leans in to place a tender kiss on her cheek, she can't help but become flustered in response, gazing up at him with a hint of playful affection.

“ Don’t forget to call. ” She tells him, sliding into the driver's seat.

He closes the door, leaning down to talk to her through the rolled down window, “ I won’t. Just make sure you’re around to answer. ” He winks at her, slapping his palm against the top of her car. “ Drive safe, little dove. ”

Departing from the house, she carries a blend of excitement and nervousness. It'll be her first genuine date in years, igniting both giddiness and apprehension within her. Throughout the entire ride home, her mind swirls with fantasies about his plans for the evening and the possible outcomes of their time together. Javier pushed to the back of her mind entirely.

–––––––––––––––––––

When she gets home, Paloma is determined to make the most of the remainder of her day. However, her plans are momentarily halted as she notices a vividly colored piece of paper taped to the front door.

POWER OUTAGE IN IMMEDIATE AREA.

RESTORATION APPROX. 9PM.

Well shit , that's still hours away, and Paloma refuses to suffer through this heat at home with no air conditioning. So, she gathers all the laundry from the house and loads it into her car, making sure to grab her CD player, a book and her journal to stave off boredom. She’ll hang out at the laundromat until tonight, maybe even stop by to visit her father at the station in order to kill time.

The mere thought of encountering Javier sends a whirlwind of thoughts swirling through her mind, momentarily disrupting her focus. Despite the anticipation of potential awkwardness, Paloma resolves to maintain her composure. She makes a silent vow to herself to hold an air of nonchalance, determined to act as if nothing had transpired between them and she wasn't the least bit affected by their days of silence.

She pulls into the small parking lot of the laundromat, doing her best to haul everything inside in one trip. She struggles at first, her progress hindered by a persistent strand of hair that’s fallen loose from her ponytail. Despite her efforts to brush it aside, the unruly strand stubbornly resettles in front of her face each time. Frustration mounts, prompting a colorful stream of curses to escape her lips. 

Using her ass to nudge the door open, she stumbles inside, careful not to topple over entirely and make a fool out of herself.

Once she’s in the small building, a refreshing wave of cool air washes over her, causing goosebumps to form on her skin despite the perspiration from the scorching weather outside.

Turning around, she doesn't anticipate encountering anyone and nearly loses her grip on everything she's carrying when she locks eyes with a familiar pair of deep, brown eyes staring back at her.

Javier. Of-fucking-course .

Paloma maintains her silence, averting her gaze swiftly. She busies herself with locating a spot on the opposite side from where he stands, this time managing to move her belongings without difficulty.

The gentle hum of the washing machines and dryers in operation fills the space, accompanied by the soft murmur of a soap opera emanating from the small, boxy television perched high in the corner.

Despite the distractions, a palpable tension lingers in the air, accentuated by the weight of his gaze boring into her back as she starts loading one of the machines.

" It's rude to stare, y'know, " She finally speaks up, unable to resist addressing his intense scrutiny. Turning to face him after finishing her task, she meets his gaze head-on.

Javier knew better than to openly gawk at her the moment she entered, but her unexpected presence caught him off guard. Their lack of interaction since that night at the fair only added to the uneasy atmosphere.

Immersing himself in his work, Javier threw himself into overhauling the department. With Romeo preoccupied by the missing persons case and other matters, Javier took it upon himself to revamp everything . Implementing a new filing system, acquiring better equipment, and updating certain procedures are just a few tasks amongst the many that became his primary focus. It was a deliberate effort to keep from pursuing her, however he found himself thoroughly enjoying the reorganization because he is good at it. 

He had convinced himself that distancing from Paloma was the wisest choice. Initially, the flirtation had been manageable, but as their connection deepened and the lines of intimacy blurred, it became overwhelming.

While it was the rational decision, it wasn't without its challenges. Despite having plenty to occupy his mind, there remained a palpable void in the absence of her presence. Javier found himself yearning for their casual conversations and lighthearted banter, missing everything about their relationship beyond its romantic aspect. 

Amidst his conflicted emotions, Javier grapples with a sense of guilt for harboring feelings towards the daughter of a man he now considers a friend. He witnesses firsthand the toll that the unsolved cases have taken on the sheriff, observing his friend's weariness and frustration. Javier dreads the possible fallout if his involvement with Paloma were ever to come to light; it would undoubtedly wreak havoc.

Yet as he stands there, charmed by the sight of her in her denim shorts and tied-up blouse, he finds himself unable to look away. Despite the weight of his conscience, he can't help but admire her beauty.

“ You’re right. Sorry querida . ”

She feels a flutter in her chest as he speaks to her, frustrated that she still reacts like a smitten teenager.

“ I’m surprised you even remember me. Figured we were strangers again. ” Her words drip with sarcasm, a tinge of bitterness creeping in. That little vow she’d made to herself to keep things nonchalant now swiftly tossed out the window.

“ I've been tied up at the station. ” He begins to explain, which isn’t a lie but also not the entire truth.

Paloma's soft hum fills the air as her eyes trace the contours of his figure, from the crown of his head to the tips of his boots, and a sigh as delicate as a whisper escapes her. The sight of him clad in the effortless ensemble of a plain t-shirt and denim jeans ignites a warmth within her, stirring a faint pulse between her legs.

How ridiculous it is for her to have vowed to keep her distance, agreeing to a date with another man just hours before; only to find herself standing here, unable to resist Javier's magnetic pull and being drawn back to him by the sheer force of his irresistible attractiveness.

“ So you’re not avoidin’ me ‘cause we almost kissed? ” Subtly be damned, she allows her words to linger, floating like weightless clouds in the space that separates them. Across the compact room, they share a gaze, locked in a suspended moment pregnant with anticipation where unspoken sentiments hover like ethereal whispers.

She can practically hear Sloane fussing at her, their last conversation about him still fresh on her mind.

It’s obvious what typa man he is. Flirty, handsome, charismatic. Sex on legs–– a long trail of broken hearts follow that man.

A subtle twitch dances along his jawline as she acknowledges the fleeting moment, “ S’that what all this is about, hermosa ? You think I’m ignoring you because we almost kissed? ” Despite that being the case, he maintains a composed facade, a humorless chuckle escaping him as he shakes his head. “ If you missed me, you can just say that. ” He teases, testing the waters in attempts to lighten the mood.

Paloma emits a soft snort, a reflex to mask the warmth flooding her cheeks as she averts her gaze, ensuring he doesn't catch sight of the gentle blush coloring her features.“ As if. Just kinda rude to be a part of a friend’s big moment then ice ‘em out after a heat of the moment mishap. ”

His tongue glides over his teeth, a simple gesture as his gaze remains fixed on hers, unwavering. “ I wasn’t icin’ you out, princesa . ” Javier states smoothly, his words flowing effortlessly despite it still being a lie, “ I've genuinely been busy as hell. Redoin’ the infrastructure of the department, helping your pops out with the cases. Shitty timing but I’m not dodging you on purpose. ”

Paloma contemplates his words, her gaze fixed on his features, searching for any telltale signs of deception. A growing sense of embarrassment floods over her as she reflects on how wrongly she had interpreted his silence. It dawns on her that Javier had merely been occupied with his responsibilities—it was his job , after all. Considering her father's recent transition to overnight shifts, she can envision how deeply absorbed Javier must be in the process of reevaluating everything.

She conceals her embarrassment. Though inwardly, she chastises herself for allowing her emotions to cloud her judgment, berating her heart for leading the way instead of her (sometimes not so) rational mind.

“ So things aren’t weird between us? ”

“ Not in the slightest. ”

“ Water under the bridge? ”

“ Water under the bridge. ”

A smile curves Paloma's lips as she pushes herself away from the running washing machine, slipping her hands into the back pockets of her denim shorts. She saunters over to him, each step purposeful, exuding a quiet yet growing confidence.

“ Okay. I guess I mighta jumped the gun a bit… ” She admits and he flashes her a knowing smile.

“ Just a little. ” 

It's unexpectedly simple for them to lie to themselves and each other about the nature of their connection. Whatever the manner it takes to get them to this fragile sense of peace; he’ll take

Finally, Javier can free himself from dwelling on the petty dysfunction between them, self-conscious about his recognition of how much he’s missed having her around.

It was only a week of silence. Can they be any more pathetic?

As she approaches him, however, Javier can’t help but let those pesky explicit thoughts infiltrate his mind. How he’d love to pull her flush against him, cover her mouth with his and kiss her until they’re both breathless. Grab a handful of her plump ass and perch her on top of one of these machines, feeling her fingers run through his hair as his dug into her hips. 

He’d be content with just that, feeling her inviting lips, tasting her lip gloss and nipping at the soft skin until the flesh is swollen due to the passionate exchange.

It’s thoughts like these that make it hard for him to conceal his feelings. Why he initially sought to create space between them, only to find that maintaining distance was more challenging than simply being in her presence.

“ Y’know, I actually missed makin’ fun of you. ”

“ Is that all I am to you? Someone to poke fun at solely for your entertainment? ”

“ Uh, yeah. I thought that was a mutual understandin’? ” She snickers and the tension dissolves entirely as they fall back into their usual limbo.

Javier reassures himself that he can handle this situation with normalcy as he engages in conversation with Paloma while they attend to their laundry. He convinces himself that he can exercise self-restraint and maintain a romantic distance while remaining close to her in a platonic sense. Recognizing their mutual maturity, he sees no reason to let something as trivial as a crush disrupt the budding friendship they both clearly cherish.

He can totally just be friends with a bewitching and irresistible woman like her. He can shed his reputation as a womanizer. Think with something other than his dick for once.

“ Do you dance, cowboy? ” She inquires, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she presses play on the CD player, flooding the room with the twang of a country song.

“ Yeah, why? ” He responds, his gaze fixed on her as she gracefully maneuvers in the confined, open area at the rear of the shop.

“ ‘Cause they’re havin’ a little line dance event on Saturday before I play. Figured you’d swing by and join in on the fun. ” She explains, her movements syncing with the rhythm of the song as she executes a simple two-step before spinning. Javier finds himself unknowingly grinning as his thumb brushes against the corner of his lip after gliding over his mustache.

“ I dance but not line dancing. S’not my thing. ” He admits, though he'll make an exception, just to watch her have fun.

“ Well it can be your thing for one night. Get that stick outta your ass, viejo . ” She giggles softly, her feet effortlessly finding the beat as she kicks them out in perfect rhythm. With a fluid motion, she sways her hips, his attention drawn to the exposed skin of her midriff before looking back up at her.

“ You gotta teach me then, ‘cause I don’t know a single fucking one of those dances. ” This has her halting her movements entirely, extending her arms outward and motioning for him to join her.

He approaches her with deliberate steps, and she guides him to stand exactly where she desires, her touch on his bicep igniting volts of energy to flash through him.

“ It’s very easy. I’ll make sure to request one of the beginner songs just for you. They usually reserve those for the kiddos. ” She jests, licking her lips.

Javier chuckles, releasing a breath through his nose and shaking his head in amusement.

She takes the lead, gently leading him through each step of the country dance, her giggles tinkling like music when he stumbles. Their occasional collisions only deepen their shared laughter, weaving a tender bond between them with each clumsy misstep.

Her presence has a revitalizing effect on Javier, coaxing forth a lighter, more carefree aspect of his personality that had become obscured during his years in Colombia. Once cynical and self-centered, he had morphed into a man driven by ambition, his reputation tainted by arrogance and a propensity for hedonism. He was known as a whore and a volatile agent, his temper often preceding him like a dark cloud.

Despite his notorious reputation, he made unparalleled strides, surpassing all others in his field. Though he grew increasingly daring toward the end, it was the sacrifice of his character and morals that enabled the DEA to take out Escobar and propel their efforts towards dismantling the Cali cartel. 

With the turmoil behind him, Javier stands at a crossroads, presented with the opportunity to reconstruct himself anew. He's determined to chart a new course for his future, to discern how he desires to navigate the remainder of his life. Aspiring to become the man he knows he is capable of being.

It’s going to take a lot of fucking work, requiring him to confront the discomfort of self-reflection head-on. Yet, he realizes that the initial stride involves acknowledging the imperative need for change. Without it, he risks being ensnared in a future filled with cynicism and dread.

Inadvertently, Paloma aids him in this rediscovery journey of his; finding and polishing all the good aspects of his character, valiantly putting them on display.

She evokes feelings of joy and normalcy within him, a stark contrast to his usual reserved nature. It’s why he finds it challenging to suppress his feelings for her, why his heart and mind become entwined in a beautiful chaos whenever she crosses his path.

–––––––––––––––––––

“ Peña! Over here! ” She exclaims the moment she spots him, beckoning him eagerly from her position by the pool table 

In the midst of the crowd, Paloma effortlessly commands attention. Her hair is elegantly tousled into a stylish updo with wisps of hair gracefully framing her face, her oversized hoop earrings glisten in the soft glow of the bar lights. Adorned in a snug denim jumpsuit, it contours to her every curve, accentuating her figure. As he draws nearer, he finds his gaze irresistibly drawn to her silhouette, particularly to the gentle curve of her ass.

His eyes quickly shift as he notices her father poised over the velvet-covered table, cue in hand, striking the white ball amidst a chaotic scattering of others.

Fortunately, he hadn't caught Javier openly eye-fucking his daughter. That would have undoubtedly led to an uncomfortable conversation.

“ Wasn’t aware you’d be here, Romeo. ” Javi says as the two men greet each other in a friendly handshake.

“ First weekend off in ages and this one convinced me I needed to get out and relieve some stress. ”

Paloma leans over, her concentration evident as she assesses her next move, closing one eye to refine her aim. With a confident swing, she propels the cue ball forward, skillfully sinking two of her own colored balls into separate pockets. She celebrates her achievement with cheerful exuberance.

“ Though ain’t no stress bein’ relieved with the way she’s whoopin’ my ass. ” The older man grunts.

“ You literally taught me how to play. ” She retorts with a playful roll of her eyes, chalking her pool stick.

“ Maybe he’ll have better luck at it then me. M’goin’ to get somethin’ drink. Y’all want anythin’? ” He asks, handing the cue stick over to Javier.

Paloma orders her usual mocktail and Javier orders a plain beer, deviating from his typical whiskey neat.

He casually removes his leather jacket, revealing a red button-up shirt with the top buttons left undone, a habitual style choice. She quickly averts her gaze, preempting any chance of him catching her admiring stare and sporting that smug grin on his devilishly attractive face.

“ Don’t get your hopes up, I’ll probably beat you at it too. ” She rounds the table, nearing him as he takes his turn, just barely missing the corner pocket. 

He blames her close proximity.

“ Oh, so close. ” She teases, patronizingly nudging him aside to take her position. As she leans forward, she brushes against him, and he takes a lengthy step back before his hand instinctively comes down to grab at her waist.

Paloma purposefully arches her back as she’s bent over the table, feeling his gaze on her. It’s fun riling men up because it’s so easy –– as if she hadn’t just been on the verge of drooling when he shrugged his jacket off.

Another success as her balls fall into the pockets, she flashes him a victorious grin over her shoulder.

“ Told you . ” She repeats his words back to him, remembering how smug he’d gotten after knocking down all the bottles with the baseball.

“ You’re playin’ a dangerous game here princesa . ” They gravitate closer, as if entering a trance that keeps them from remembering that this is what they’re both trying to avoid.

“ Am I? ” She challenges, gazing up at him with a playful glint in her eyes, framed by her thick lashes.

Romeo reappears with perfect timing, distributing drinks as they settle into the rhythm of their evening. The first part of their night unfolds amidst friendly competition, with Paloma emerging victorious in nearly every game against the two men. However, there's a solitary exception when she graciously allows them a victory. A mercy win of sorts

By this point, the bar begins to buzz with activity. When the familiar strains of country music fill the air, Paloma's face lights up with a wide smile as she beckons Javier to join her with an inviting gesture.

“ Alright now, cowboy, hope you’ve been practicin’ those moves I showed ya. ” He exchanges a look with the sheriff, an amused expression on his face.

“ She’s roped you into it, huh? Feels good to no longer be her only victim, ” The sheriff jokes which prompts her to roll her eyes and for Javier to genuinely laugh.

“ Both of you are no fun, but I reckon this one here has no choice but to join me. ”

He allows her to pull him towards the open area of the dance floor, a crowd gathering around them but he’s only focused on her .

They synchronize their movements, the steps simple enough for him to have retained in the days that followed her little lesson at the laundromat. He acknowledges internally the genuine effort he's putting into dancing with her, despite his initial reluctance.

The radiant smile on her face makes every effort worthwhile.

Across the bar, Sloane observes the affectionate scene with interest, prompting her to excuse herself momentarily to make a phone call.

When the song ends, Paloma turns to him. “ See? That wasn’t so bad. You did really good! ”

“ Well, I did have a great dance instructor. ” He quips, and she suppresses a grin by biting her lip. She's probably beaming like the damn Cheshire Cat right now.

Upon rejoining Romeo, he's teasing Javier about his dancing.

“ Oh daddy, don’t be such a bully. ” Though her attention is diverted by the fresh tray of loaded fries resting on the edge of their pool table, and she takes a forkful; practically scarfing them down.

“ Slow down, they’re not goin’ anywhere. ” Her father comments as she devours the entirety of the appetizer.

“ I haven’t eaten all day and loaded fries are the best thing to ever be invented. ”

“ Just like fried oreos? ” Javier can't resist the opportunity to tease her, shooting her a playful glance over the brim of his beer glass as he takes a sip.

She shoots him a sharp look, “ Don’t. ” Though she smiles softly, part of her wishing she could relive the entirety of that night. Sans the ferris wheel ride.

Shortly after finishing, Paloma heads off to prepare for her gig.

“ Been meanin’ to ask… ” The older man begins as they make their way to the usual table they sit at, “ How was the trip to Dallas? You got back damn near the next mornin’. ”

Javier tenses briefly but recovers, reaching for his trusty pack of cigarettes so he can puff on one while he does his best to recount that night without incriminating himself.

“ It was great. She had a lotta fun… would have been back earlier but she insisted on staying to enjoy the fair. She can be very persistent. ” He lights the stick, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out through his nose.

“ Tell me about it. M’just glad she enjoyed herself. She deserves it, my sweet girl. ” The adoration on his eyes is clear as day, that guilt Javi feels for pining after his daughter intensifies in the moment but it’s quickly dispersed as Paloma joins the stage.

The night unfolds in its usual manner, with her infectious energy and unmatched talent captivating the audience. Amidst a break between songs, she takes a sip of water, her gaze drifting across the crowd until it lands on August. A smile tugs at her lips as she realizes that he's never seen her perform before. With her heart racing at the thought, she caps her water bottle and steps up to the microphone, clearing her throat in preparation.

“ This next song has become one of my favorites after bein’ introduced to it by a very special friend. ” Her eyes meet August’s and they twinkle underneath the stage lights. He raises his hand in a subtle wave as they acknowledge one another. “ This is Creep by Radiohead. ”

♫

The song commences, and as expected, she delivers it perfectly. Javier becomes utterly entranced by her, mesmerized by the power of her voice. He's so absorbed in her presence that he barely notices when the sheriff and some of his friends step outside, leaving him alone at the table with a fresh cigarette nestled between his lips.

Whatever makes you happy.

Whatever you want.

You’re so very special.

I wish I was special.

In the midst of the crowd, a man emerges, clutching a vibrant bouquet of flowers that he carefully places on the stage near Paloma. Their eyes meet, and a surge of butterflies fills Paloma's stomach as she realizes he's brought her azaleas, recalling her disappointment since her own hadn't bloomed properly.

A trace of her excitement seeps into her singing, a gentle giggle interwoven with the lyrics as August winks at her before departing.

Javier finds himself frowning as he observes the exchange, a dangerous wave of jealousy sweeping over him. It's only when the man begins to depart that Javier recognizes him.

Augustus fucking Dixon.

–––––––––––––––––––

For the remainder of the night and well into the following morning, Javier's mind is consumed by that interaction. He replays it over and over again – Paloma's mention of August as a "special friend," the bouquet of flowers he had left for her.

The memory of her smile, her laughter directed at him , and the song she sang, seemingly just for him , echoes relentlessly in his thoughts.

Javier can't shake the pinched feeling in his chest. He berates himself for his irrational jealousy. After all, he has no claim over Paloma in any way, shape, or form. She's a young, beautiful, and talented woman, free to be with anyone she damn pleases.

But to get involved with August? Javier can't help but feel a surge of frustration. He's pored over the guy’s file, seen the litany of petty crimes and the years he's spent behind bars as a result. In Javier's eyes, Paloma deserves better – so much better. Someone who will treat her with the respect and admiration she deserves.

It's unfair of him to react this way, he knows. Yet, try as he might to quell the rising tide of envy, he finds himself struggling against the tumultuous waves of the emotion.

Paloma needs to be adored like the shining star she is, to be with someone who'll kiss the ground she walks on and and treat her like fucking royalty.

What she doesn’t need is to be entangled with a petty criminal adorned in tattoos, sporting a questionable haircut, and roaring around on a motorcycle.

What–– was he going to be the one to treat her as well as she deserves? The man with a jaded past and inability to commit? Yeah, right. He’s delusional for even letting that thought cross his mind.

Javier lets out a soft scoff, exhaling a stream of smoke through the cracked window of his cruiser. He sits parked in front of the church building where mass is currently being held.

He finds himself here after finding out that Gabriel Torres is employed as a groundskeeper for the property. It gives reason as to why he was around the day of Nina Thorton’s funeral, but doesn't quite explain why he paused to stare at her picture in deep thought before leaving.

A nagging sense of intrigue gnaws at Javier as he considers the situation. There's an underlying connection here, he senses it, yet he struggles to pinpoint exactly what it might be. Nina and Gabriel come from different towns, and Gabriel's nomadic lifestyle suggests he's been traversing the state for a while. From what Javi has gleaned about the deceased girl, Nina wasn't one to associate with the ‘wrong crowd’. Still, he acknowledges the disparity between stating she wasn't that type and the possibility that appearances can be deceiving.

Driven by his spark of jealousy, Javier intends to delve deeper into the group that includes Gabriel, August, and Sloane. Returning to his place last night, he poured over their files and any other pertinent information he could find at that moment.

With sparse details at his disposal, he relies on the hearsay from the locals and a single notable arrest involving the trio. In this incident, they were apprehended for setting a cross ablaze in the heart of the woods. The resulting fire grew out of control, warranting all three of them to serve two years in jail.

Driven by a fierce determination, Javier resolves to unearth more information, to transform the whispers and rumors into concrete knowledge. He wants to unravel the enigma of August, to understand why someone as riveting as Paloma would choose to align herself with someone like him .

Javier remains steadfast in his pursuit, refusing to relent until he can definitively eliminate this group from his (almost nonexistent) roster of suspects. He won’t dismiss them entirely until he's thoroughly convinced of their innocence. Moreover, he harbors no intention of divulging his personal investigation to the sheriff. After all, he had dismissed them months ago without a second thought, and Javier sees no reason to involve him now.

Unless he finds something of use, that is.

He gets out of his cruiser in his full sheriff deputy getup, snubbing out the finished cigarette with the bottom of his boot. Javier readjusts the gun that’s tucked against his lower back, plucking out a piece of spearmint gum to rid him of the nicotine taste that lingers in his mouth.

He rounds the building until he’s at the graveyard nestled on the grounds, approaching the younger male who is in the midst of digging a hole into the ground.

“ Gabriel Torres? ” Javier announces himself, lazily chewing on his gum as the guy turns to face him with a skeptical look on his face.

No words are exchanged, but Javi catches the subtle nod of acknowledgment directed his way.

“ Javier Peña with Seminary’s Sheriff’s Department. Got a second to answer some questions. ” He states, his gaze focused intently on the man's face, searching for any subtle clues in his expression. After a beat of silence, he continues, “ You’re not in any kind of trouble or anythin’. I’m just curious about the things I’ve been hearin’ about this group you’re part of. ” Another analytical look follows, his amber-tinted shades not obscuring the intent behind his gaze.

Gabe drives the sharp end of the shovel deep into the soft earth, using it as a support as he leans against it. His gaze shifts to the officer before him, his expression thoughtful as he weighs the decision of whether speaking to him is wise or not.

“ What is it? ”

Javier’s hands fall to his waist, resting atop of his utility belt that has all his equipment on it.

“ You’re not really sacrificin’ goats and eating newborns, right? ” He chuckles dryly. As absurd as it may sound, it was verbatim to what a group of elderly woman had told him not long ago. Obviously, Javier treated it with a healthy dose of skepticism, but he realizes the importance of approaching this conversation with an open mind, not wanting to intimidate Gabriel into clamming up.

Given the number of arrests involving Gabriel and his two companions, Javier is acutely aware that they may not have the best relationship with authority. Consequently, he opts to adopt a more amicable approach, aiming to play the role of the ‘good cop’.

Gabriel dismisses the notion with a shake of his head. “ Nah, man, we ain't doing all that. ” He replies. August had practically drilled everyone in their group on how to handle police interactions. Normally, Gabriel would stay silent and brush off an officer altogether, but he's aware of Javier's significance, especially regarding August's interest in Paloma.

Sloane has kept them informed about her growing feelings for the older man and how that can be a hindrance to the overarching goal the group has.

“ Kinda fuckin’ annoyin’ that people spew that bullshit without knowin’ how we actually operate. S’like the second they can’t wrap their narrow-minded brains around somethin’–– the first thing they do is shout devil and other obscenities. Pointin’ fingers and grabbin’ their torches and pitchforks. ”

Javier remains silent, allowing Gabriel to voice his thoughts without interruption. Yet, behind his outward calmness, his mind is sharp, absorbing every syllable uttered and analyzing the subtle nuances of Gabe’s demeanor. Observation is a skill honed over years of experience, and Javier excels in deciphering the unspoken language of body cues.

As Gabriel speaks, frustration emanates from him like a palpable force, evident in the tension of his posture and the earnestness in his voice. Javier takes note of every detail, recognizing the authenticity behind the words.

“ It’s why we move around so damn much. Each time we think we found a place to settle in at, they’re runnin’ us off… Y’know, for claiming to be such compassionate people–– they sure are hateful. ”

Javier finds resonance in Gabriel's sentiment. Hypocrisy often cloaks itself in the guise of piety, a facade worn by many he has encountered. The irony is not lost on him as he reflects on the dichotomy between professed faith and heinous deeds.

In his mind's eye, Javier recalls the sanctimonious cartels in Colombia, adorned with religious iconography that belied their nefarious activities. Their clandestine operations, stained with bloodshed and violence, stood in stark contradiction to the sanctity they purportedly revered.

“ Pretty shitty that you all have had to go through that… Has anyone ever attempted to retaliate? Some kind of revenge for constantly being pushed away? ” Javi probes, earning a narrowed gaze from Gabe before their conversation is interrupted by another figure joining in.

“ Chattin’ up a narc ? ” The insult rolls off August’s tongue with purpose as he approaches and Javier’s jaw ticks at the sound of his voice.

The two of them size each other up. August is a few inches taller than Javier though the discrepancy hardly matters given Javier's hardened demeanor and inability to appear weak .

Now that he’s got a closer look at the guy, he really can’t fathom what it is that Paloma sees in him.

“ He was just askin’ about the group. Tryin’ to discern if we’re actually killin’ babies ‘round here. ” They share a laugh but Javier remains stone faced, annoyed at August’s interference.

“ Ah, well, officer, I can assure you that none of that is happenin’. We’re a peaceful bunch... don’t bother no one. Keep to ourselves. Sure we’ve all done some pretty fucked up things but that’s all behind us. I created the Paragons of the Sacrificed with one goal: to unite and rehabilitate broken souls without the influence of organized religion. S’been workin’ so far–– most of our members have stayed outta trouble, others following through with their sobriety. ”

Javier remains skeptical of August's supposed rehabilitation, a sentiment perhaps colored by his personal dislike for the man. With little else to say, he simply grunts in acknowledgment. The name of the group now revealed and stored away in his mind.

“ Sounds like a good thing, then. Wonder why everyone is so insistent that you’re all trouble. ”

“ ‘Cause of the childish shit we used to do. S’quite simple. They also feel threatened by the worship of something that isn't their precious God. ”

“ So what is it that you devote yourself to then? ” Javier maintains unwavering eye contact with August as he poses the question, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Amid the tense silence, Javier's attention is diverted by a sudden commotion emanating from inside the church.

“ Seems like you’re needed elsewhere, Officer Peña . ” August remarks with a tilt of his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. Javier feels the temptation to reply with a snarky comment, but he restrains himself. 

He's determined to maintain the fragile rapport he's building with Gabriel. He senses that he might be the one to provide the answers he seeks. Javier isn't confident in Sloane's ability to keep his sleuthing quiet around Paloma, and he certainly doesn't trust August.

With a pointed glance at both of them, Javi excuses himself, now determined to investigate the unfolding disturbance.

Upon entering the stuffy church, his stomach sinks as he witnesses the chaotic scene unfolding in the tranquil atmosphere of the Sunday mass.

Mr. Thorton, his face contorted with grief and fueled by alcohol, stumbles down the aisle, his slurred words echoing through the hallowed space. The congregation shifts uncomfortably in their seats as he spews venomous words about his deceased daughter, casting blame upon the town for its perceived failure to bring her justice.

With practiced calm, Javier steps forward, his authoritative presence attempting to quell the rising tension. He approaches Mr. Thorton, who sways unsteadily on his feet, his sorrow morphing into rage. Despite his inebriated state, Mr. Thorton's words cut through the air like knives, each one laced with pain and bitterness.

As Javier attempts to diffuse the situation, Mr. Thorton's desperation reaches a fever pitch. In a moment of reckless anguish, he lunges towards Paloma, his grip fierce and unyielding. The gasps of the onlookers mingle with Paloma's startled cry as Javier moves swiftly to intervene, his strong arms encircling Mr. Thorton and pulling him back with firm force.

The sheriff looks like he might kill the man for putting his hands on his daughter.

In that fraught moment, Javier feels for the broken man before him, his own frustration mirrored in Mr. Thorton's anguished cries. But duty compels him to maintain order. And so, with resolve in his eyes and compassion in his heart, Javier guides Mr. Thorton’s wrists behind his back to cuff him and redirect him away from the congregation.

His steps are heavy with the burden of sorrow that hangs in the air. “ Alright, let’s go. ” Javier murmurs, dragging the babbling man down the aisle and out the door.

Concerned whispers fill the room as a few people gather around Paloma, their eyes reflecting worry and sympathy. She offers them a reassuring smile, her hand absently rubbing at her sore forearm where Mr. Thorton's grip had been firm and unforgiving. Beneath the surface, she can feel the faint stirrings of pain, a precursor to the bruises that will inevitably bloom in the days to come.

Despite the suddenness, Paloma's focus remained fixed on Javier through the entirety of the situation. His entrance had been a beacon of stability in the midst of disruption, his authoritative presence a comforting anchor in the turmoil. She watched as he moved through the room with practiced ease, his gaze sweeping over the congregation with a blend of vigilance and concern.

When their eyes met, Paloma felt a rush of gratitude wash over her. And though her arm may bear the physical imprint of Mr. Thorton's aggression, she finds solace in the man who jumped into action.

Because it’s his job, Paloma. Stop overthinking every little interaction you have with him!

Despite the chaos of the moment, Paloma couldn’t help but be entranced by Javier's presence. There's something undeniably sexy about him in his uniform, the way he rushed to her side with a sense of protective urgency that set her heart racing. As he strides out of the church, his silhouette framed by the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, her gaze lingers on the gun tucked into the back of his pants.

For a brief, exhilarating moment, she's overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that flood her senses. The sight of him, strong and resolute in the face of conflict, stirs something deep within her, igniting a spark of longing that she struggles to contain. But then reality comes crashing back in, reminding her of the solemn setting of the church and the prying eyes of the congregation.

With a rueful shake of her head, Paloma pushes aside her fleeting infatuation, burying it beneath a veil of composure. She knows that now is not the time nor the place for such thoughts, not with her father and the watchful eyes of their community bearing down on her. And so, with a determined resolve, she squares her shoulders and turns her attention back to the proceedings, pushing aside her wayward emotions in favor of the solemnity of the moment.

The Thorton family's sorrow weighs heavily on Paloma's heart in the aftermath of their tragic loss. It's evident that the death of their daughter has left them shattered, each member of the family bearing the scars of grief in their own way. Mr. Thorton's descent into alcoholism and his wife's spiral into depression paint a poignant picture of their collective anguish.

She finds herself contemplating whether she should reach out to them, offering a small gesture of solace in the face of their immense pain. The idea of stopping by their house, perhaps with a comforting dish in hand, crosses her mind as she ponders ways to alleviate their suffering, even if only for a fleeting moment. Yet, she knows deep down that no amount of well-intentioned gestures can ever fully mend the brokenness that has consumed their family.

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 6

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst and comedy ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: slavery, human trafficking, discussion of trauma, general angst, mention of nudity but it isn't sexual, alcohol consumption, Shanks

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm not sure what color hair I have. At first I think it's pink, then red, then a purple. I can't help but feel as if I've seen the color somewhere, but I couldn't remember what it's called.

I lean in closer to the mirror, my nose almost brushing the cold surface. My skin is a dull shade of chestnut, and freckles are spattered over the bridge of my nose, which seemed a little too big for my face. My eyes are wide and sunken into my skull, the skin around them a dark purple. I couldn't decide whether or not I liked the color of my irises, the bright yellow-green reminding me of bugs.

I trace my fingers around my neck. It's paler than the rest of my skin, and rough to the touch. Every direction I twisted my head, it puckered and wrinkled, as if it was protesting against being stretched.

Seeing myself and knowing my name made me feel alive.

I was Jett. I was real.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Girlie, you done?" Hongo called.

I hurredly tugged on the blue shirt and baggy shorts Shanks had given me before pulling open the door. Hongo stood there with an older man with long gray hair pulled into a ponytail. Somehow he seemed taller than even Shanks, and he barely fit in the bathroom doorway.

"This is Benn Beckman, he'll bring you onto the deck if you want. Some jackass got himself stabbed in a bar, I'll change your bandage later." Hongo disappeared down the hallway, leaving me to hold onto Benn's outstretched arm.

"I'm assuming Shanks gave you that to wear," Benn remarked as he led me down the hall opposite the direction Hongo went.

"Um- yeah."

He chuckled. "I'll apologize for him, lass, because he probably won't."

I really hadn't thought about how the clothing looked, but when I peered down to study my shorts I grimaced - they were heinous.

"Don't sweat it, lass, we won't make you look like a Shanks clone for too long."

He paused in front of a door, turning to look down at me with his hand on the latch.

"Just a fair warning, some of the crew's back, and-"

The door was snatched open, and Benn moved his hand to grip the one I had curled around the crook of his elbow.

What was it with this crew and just barging in places?

A blonde, dark-skinned man wearing a headband that said 'YASOPP' was leaning against the now-open door. He didn't do much to block the sunlight pouring in, and I had to massage my temples and blink away the white spots dancing in my vision before I could even look outside.

"Damn, Benn got to the lovely gal first," the man, who presumably was the Yasopp Hongo often complained about, drawled. I almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well I looked like hell and not a touch "lovely."

"Don't be a nuisance, Yasopp," said Benn.

Yasopp clutched his chest dramatically and pretended to weep, throwing an arm over his face. "You wound me, Bennjamin. I'm nothing but kind and compassionate to you-"

"Shove that horseshit up someone else's ass," Benn grunted, "Preferably your own."

I couldn't help but giggle, catching the two men's attention. Benn sighed, rummaging for something in his coat pocket before leading me out the door.

The sea had to be the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Benn led me over to the railing along the side of the ship, careful to keep me steady over any damp spots. Letting go of his arm, I leaned over the railing as far as my nerves would let me.

Light danced over the little chopping waves that pattered against the ship, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that almost hurt my eyes to look at. Bright turquoise faded into a deep sapphire as it stretched into the horizon. My vision blurred off into the distance, but the vast nothingness that laid before me was almost haunting. I wondered what it would be like to soar on wings above it, to feel lost in the sky surrounded by nothing but blue.

The gentle flick of a lighter drew my attention, and I turned to see Benn taking a long drag from a cigarette, the end burning a bright amber. He let out a heavy breath, smoke spilling from his lips. My eyes watered, a bit, and I struggled not to cough as I tried scooching away.

"Shit, sorry, lass," he says, his face turned in the opposite direction.

I faced the water again, squinting to see how far my vision could reach.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Benn grunts, a slight smile on his face. "It never seems to end."

"Has anyone seen all of it?"

If he's surprised by my question, he doesn't show it. "One man has, but that's a story Shanks knows more about than I do." He grimaces, then mutters, "Maybe you shouldn't ask him, he might gab on about the damn clown-"

"Benn, if you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'm going to shoot your kneecaps." Yasopp's voice was chilling compared to the easy tone he had earlier, and his expression was downright murderous.

"I guess Shanks is on his way back, then," said Benn, undisturbed. "Please never mention clowns or bugs around him, lass, you'd be signing us up for torture."

"A sick and unusual punishment, indeed," said Yasopp somberly.

Benn, having finished his cigarette, steps toward me. "Guess we'd better introduce you to some of the crew."

"Although I'm afraid you've already met the most handsome and awesome member," Yasopp cuts in, dramatically flexing his arms.

"Don't you have other shit to do?"

"Such a dirty mouth around a lady, Benn! I would never-" and he faded off, still babbling as he disappeared below deck.

Benn let out a sigh, rummaged in his pocket again, then paused before thinking better of it. "Alright, lass, in case no one's told you yet, welcome to the Red Force, ship of the Red-Haired pirates."

I almost pointed out that Shanks was the only one with red hair that I'd seen, but decided to keep my mouth shut.

More of the crew started appearing here and there, carrying various crates and bags of things, though I couldn't make my vision focus enough to see. I had to squint to make out some of the various crew members Benn started pointing out, but most of them seemed so happy to be introduced to me that I couldn't bring myself to say I couldn't see most of them from where we were.

What I was able to notice, however, was how odd some of their names were. Rockstar? Limejuice? Bonk Punch? Building Snake? What in the actual hell? Benn gave no indication that these were just nicknames, either, and didn't acknowledge how strange they sounded.

Another thing I noticed was how big everyone was. I thought Benn would be the tallest man I'd ever seen, but Building Snake - damn, it felt stupid to refer to anyone like that - was basically a giant. Despite everyone's daunting appearance, however, everyone seemed good-natured and cheerful - with the exception of Limejuice, who seemed more quiet and serious, though still polite.

Gab won me over almost immediately, with his sweet and bashful demeanor contrasting his fearsome appearance. As one of the few members I actually saw up close, I was able to see just how much he looked like a lion with his long, wild hair and sharp teeth. He didn't say much, but he did give me a timid smile before scurrying off, evidently not for conversation with strangers. I couldn't blame him. I was leaned over the railing again, watching the water as the sun started to dip when Hongo shouted for me.

"Jett! Let me change up your bandage before we eat." I didn't think I'd ever get tired of hearing other people say my name. It made me feel less like some poor, weak stray that had turned up and more like a person.

As soon as I was wrapped back up, my back stinging slightly, Hongo was pushing a cane in my hands, telling me I needed to start walking longer distances on my own. While it was exhausting, I had to admit it was liberating to be able to move around independently, with no grumpy pirate to lead me around.

I'd just made my way back out onto the deck when i heard a loud, sharp whoop. The men seemed unfazed by it, continuing to load up- whatever pirates loaded up. Food? Water? Weapons, maybe?

It wasn't until Shanks made it up onto the deck that I figured out who it was. I was right - Shanks was the only crew member with red hair, and I was able to decipher him from much farther away than the others. He was carrying something large and round on his shoulder, and as he drew closer, I could see the wide grin on his face.

"We're celebratin' tonight, boys, I got my hands on the good stuff!" he shouted, all but slamming down what looked to be a barrel from his shoulder to the floor.

"We've got a new crewmate to welcome!"

-------

It was the first time since arriving that I had eaten with the crew. We were all out on the deck stuffing ourselves, and I was still buzzing from what Shanks had said earlier.

Crewmate.

Did they like me that much? Everyone seemed so happy that I was here, it was unreal. They didn't even know who the hell I was- although I didn't exactly know that either.

All night, I'd received choruses of "Oi, lass," or "Aye, miss," or the occasional "Need more food, little lady?"

The last one tended to come from the ship's cook, Lucky Roux, who was about as wide as he was tall. He always seemed to be knawing on a meat rack, a wide smile across his face. Out of all the crewmates I'd met, he was the sweetest; though if he was a little more outgoing, Gab could certainly give him a run for his money. Roux also seemed hellbent on making my stomach explode; any time I finished something on my plate, we was shoveling me more.

Benn sat beside me, his manners probably as proper as any pirate's could be. Shanks sat opposite him, having finished eating a while ago and was continuously chugging a foul-smelling liquid that Hongo had forbidden from me. He'd said that it would react badly with the medicine I was on; he also looked like he'd murder everyone on the ship if I didn't listen to him.

It seemed like everyone was drinking the stuff - liquor, I thought, after watching Shanks's cheeks flush and and most of the crew get a little less precise with their movements. Benn and Hongo were the only ones aside from me staying sober, and I was grateful for it. Hongo was in and out, making sure I was eating the right things then disappearing back into the cabin.

"He's cleaning," Benn grunted, fiddling with an unlit cigarette.

"Honey?" Shanks piped in, "the man's obsessed, I swear."

"Someone's got to be clean on this ship, and I know it won't be you, Captain," Benn snapped.

"What's up your ass, Benn, you've been a dick all night," Shanks giggled, "oh my god, maybe it's dic-"

"He hasn't had his smokes today," Yasopp interrupted, swaying slightly with an arm around Lucky Roux's shoulders.

Benn just grunted, his hand twitching.

I thought back to earlier that day, when he'd looked so guilty at making me cough. Did he stop because of me?

"Um- Benn- if it's because of me," I hesitated before continuing, "I don't mind if you smoke."

Shanks gasped dramatically, saying, "She does speak-"

"Shut it, you arse. Don't be rude," Benn snapped. He turned to me, and in a gentler tone he said, "I'll be fine, lass, don't want to spoil your lungs."

"I'm not a child, Benn, I'll be fine if you go somewhere else to smoke," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

If I'd pissed him off, he didn't show it; he just squeezed my shoulder, muttered an "alright then," and walked off.

Shanks absolutely cackled at this interaction, having no shame in teasing his first mate. "Spooky, I wish you could see well enough to look at his face right now." Genuine tears rolled down his cheeks, and he sloppily wiped them away.

With the absence of Benn, Yasopp and Lucky Roux had fixed themselves around me, snickering at each other.

"So, Jett," Yasopp started, "how old are you, if you aren't a kid."

I had to think for a moment. In truth, I had no idea how I knew I wasn't a kid. How young did I think I kid was, anyway? Eighteen? Twenty? Was I older than that?

"I- I'm not sure," I admitted, and Yasopp stiffened a bit.

"Amnesia that bad, huh?" he jokes lamely.

"I WISH THAT I COULD WAKE UP WITH AMNESIA-" Shanks's singing was awful, and the crew seemed to share that opinion, Yasopp grimacing and Lucky Roux's smile faltering.

"Shanks-" someone started to say before I interrupted.

"You're going to make me more deaf than I already am." It was quiet, but Shanks caught it, and he guffawed before his face settled into a pout.

"I'll have you know I'm a terrific singer, Spooky, you lot just have no taste."

Yasopp scoffed, before covering it with a cough that made Roux chuckle.

"The lady's got a bit of a mouth on 'er, even if she is quiet," Yasopp slung an arm around me, his blonde dreads brushing my shoulder.

-------

The night wore on, and although I was exhausted, and Benn had suggested more than once that I should probably be asleep, I found myself captivated by how the crew interacted with each other. They laughed and joked around each other, and everyone was happy to be there. A few of them seemed to have partied to hard - Shanks being one of them - and were either vomiting into the ocean or passed out.

Somehow, Shanks's head had ended up in my lap, and Yasopp and Roux were sitting across from us. Benn was constantly smoking a small ways from us, something that worried me until Yasopp assured me it was completely normal "Benn behavior".

"Ssssshhhpooookyyyyyy," Shanks slurred from my lap, and I awkwardly patted his head.

"Hm?" I'd gotten more confident in my voice as the night had worn on, saying a few more words at a time, and responding more often.

"Benn said - hic - Benn said the shorts I gave you were uglyyyy," he whined.

"Well- I- yeah," I said, looking at the bright purple stripes that adorned said shorts. "But thanks for letting me wear them."

The redhead shifted to face me, grinning. "Don' worry Shpook, we'll get you some woman clothes sometime."

I hummed a minute, looking away from him.

"Shanks," I finally said, gazing out over the dark where the ocean should be.

"Hrrngh," he grunted.

"Why are you letting me stay here?"

----------

Shanks POV

I looked at her, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. I'd seen the look on her face countless times on countless faces. I tried moving to sit up, but glaring white spots danced over my vision, and my head spun. Fuck.

I was way too drunk for this.

The truth was that in the time she'd already been with us, no one had been able to find any record of her existence. No missing person reports, no recent kidnappings - nothing that suggested someone was looking for her. It was Benn that suggested she might've been gone long enough that people had stopped looking for her; and I had a terrible suspicion he was right. It wasn't uncommon for all records of a person who'd been sold as a slave to "mysteriously" disappear, but usually someone would get by with reporting them in the News Coo. Some of the crew, including myself and Benn, had looked through almost a year's worth of any news, reports, or even wanted posters.

Our girl was nowhere to be found. To make things worse, Hongo shared his fear that the amnesia she had could be permanent, even if her vision and hearing improve. So, she couldn't tell us herself.

Maybe I could get Mihawk to look at some Marine record or something.

I shoved those thoughts away. We'd keep looking, but at some point, we'd have to tell her. But for now, I'd do my best to keep her happy.

"Finder's keepers, Spooks," I said finally, pushing myself up and groaning.

She watched as I raised my bottle, and I could've sworn I saw her smile a little when I shouted, "A toast! To our newest crewmate and friend!"

Nothing but cheers erupted from the crew.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Abandoned Kakashi WIP

author's note: the worst part about going back to abandoned WIPs is that i cannot for the life of me remember what the plan for some things are. as i cannot remember, i'll just post this kakashi one as is just because it's probably as far done as it'll get. just a heads up, there is an allusion to sex!

Kakashi turned off the water in the shower, droplets trickling down his body and falling off onto the wet floor. Once again his students were attempting to see his face, and he had indulged their efforts as Sukea in the name of improving their teamwork. He was pleased that their former classmates were also on the 'mission' too.

It was strange to think he was steadily improving the next generation's abilities to protect the village just by having a face.

He opened the shower door and began drying off, turning his head with a knowing smirk as the door opened up. "I guess you've forgotten how to knock?"

You rolled your eyes and stepped in anyway. "I can knock some sense into you, if you like."

"And what have I done now, hm? I dared to take a shower?"

"You keep goading these kids into trying to take off your mask." You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall as you glanced at the used makeup wipes sitting in the bin. "And not only that, you're helping them! Are you trying to get them to take it off? Because at that point you might as well just stop wearing it anyway."

"I like my mask." He moved to stand in front of you, his skin still very much damp from the shower. He placed his hands against the wall on either side of your head, smirking down at you mischievously. You met his challenging eyes with your own, only barely being able to ignore the fact that he was still very naked, and that his man downstairs was warming to your presence. "I also like the thrill of them hunting me for it."

Your tongue shot out to wet your drying lips as your husband grazed his lips up and down the side of your neck. "Kakashi. They're going to succeed..."

"Maybe." He gently bit your neck and kissed the spot, water from his wet hair dripping on your shirt. "But I told you. I like the thrill."

You sighed softly but didn't repress your smile. "You and your adrenaline rushes..."

"I still have some excitement in me." Kakashi said directly into your ear, the vibrations from his lips and words sending a buzz down your spine. You didn't even need him to tell you; you could feel his excitement pressing against your leg. "And now your shirt is all wet, what a shame..." He thumbed the edge of your shirt, warning you that it was coming off sooner than later.

You groaned softly when he pressed his body closer. "This conversation isn't over..."

"Oh I'm sure." He whispered hotly before capping his lips onto yours.

"So this is really the best idea you could come up with for helping them work together?" You asked while drawing circles on Kakashi's chest. His arm was around you securely while he gazed at the ceiling, his cheek resting against your head.

"This seems to be the only thing they all actively want. They're so different that it's hard to find common ground. If a little mischief is what it takes to get them going, it's worth it." He answered honestly, his large hand gently sweeping over your back. "I have to put all of my marbles into this generation. They won't get the luxury of peace; but maybe their children will if we do our part to give them the tools. They're craftier than us, and I believe in them."

You nodded slowly in understanding. "You'd make a wonderful Hokage."

Kakashi just laughed and closed his eyes.

that's all i got done 🙈 if anyone wants to pick this up where i left it, you're welcome to do so. all i ask is for you to tag me when it's done!

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[bringingglory]

@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

--

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

[one-spidey-boii]

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch four

read ch three here

masterlist

an; i hope everyone out there is staying safe and sound. also, feel free to give feedback! i love to hear from you guys.

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), future smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 2.1k+

edie's pov

"give up now, parker. i can do this all day." i say with a heavy breath as i hold peter in a headlock between my legs. we've been messing around with each other, showing off what we're capable of. somehow that led us to this moment.

he's struggling to break away from my hold. using all his strength to squirm away, he lets out grunts that eventually end with a big sigh as he gives up. only to try all over again a few seconds later.

"god it's like your legs are made of steel, this is inhumane." he puffs out, finally accepting defeat.

"oh. oh! my eyes! what is going on in here?" a voice booms throughout the room.

both our heads snap to the sound at the doorway to see happy standing there with his hands over his eyes. tony's voice can be heard in the hallway.

"what? why are you doing that, happy? oh lord! jesus children, it's only the first day." he shouts as he shields his eyes away from our general direction. i scramble away from peter and we each end up on either side of the blue mat that covers half of the room. both of our faces are flustered and shaded a guilty hue of red even though we weren't doing anything worthy of that feeling.

tony saunters over to a table on the side of the room and motions for us to join him. i hop up off of the ground, brushing myself off and moving my hair out of my face. i take my place next to mr. stark and peter follows in suit on the opposite side of him.

"okay so as you know- peter, take your mask off. what is this a kid's costume party?" tony pokes fun at peter who rushes to take the mask off and holds it down by his side. i can't help but let out a muffled laugh at the embarrassed boy. he meets my eyes with no readable expression, only holding it for a moment before focusing back on mr. stark.

he continues on, "alright. now that that’s handled... let's get some ground rules on the table." he looks at both of us in the eyes before talking again.

"rule number one, you must always be on alert. you'll be the only ones here for the most part, aside from the occasional visits from happy or myself.

number two, one of you must be here at all times. you can take turns going out and helping old ladies cross the street, or whatever it is that you guys do. hey, hey, i'm kidding don't give me that look, peter.

number three, i expect weekly updates from you. edie, you'll probably want to handle that.

and lastly rule number four, i just added this one because i didn't think it would be a problem, but who am i kidding? no hanky panky in my compound. got it?"

i snap out of my focused state at that last part. my mouth bobs open and closed like a fish as i search for something to say. never in a million years would i think about doing things with peter. just the thought of it made me shiver.

"hello? i need an answer." tony says as he looks between the both of us. it's then that i notice peter- again- is flustered beyond belief.

peter's pov

"you got it mr. stark." i blurt out. he gives one last glance between us and nods his head in satisfaction.

"good. i'll see you two crazy kids later." he responds with a wink as he walks backwards towards the door, giving us laser fingers before he turns and is gone from the room. i move my attention to happy who was trailing behind him.

"don't make me come back here more than i have to." he says with a fake smile and wave before disappearing as well.

i turn to the only other person left in the room. the said person who suddenly makes the butterflies in my stomach turn on each other to form an all-out war. the scary part about this feeling is...i have no idea why i feel it. and it's sprung up on me out of nowhere. all i know is that as of late, being around her makes me nervous, and sweaty.

"i'm gonna go...take a shower," i say pitifully. i internally scold myself for being so weird all of a sudden, but without waiting for an answer i bolt out of the room and make my way to my own space i’ll be staying in this summer. during my escape, i hear the faintest 'bye' coming from edie's direction.

finally in my room, i press the button that releases my suit from my body and shimmy out of it, starting to feel claustrophobic beneath its tight hold. while showering was just the first thing i could think of for an excuse, the idea doesn't sound so bad. i scramble through my suitcase and find all of the things necessary to take a shower. i carry it all to the bathroom and turn on the water.

while waiting for it to warm up, i stare at myself in the mirror. my hair is damp from the sweat that always comes when i wear my mask. i just look rough. my cheeks are red and flustered- an emotion i find myself feeling a lot lately- and the only reason as to why, is the reminiscent feeling of edie's thighs wrapped around my head. a combat move that is a bitch to be stuck in is now sending shivers down my spine in the strangest way. the feeling of her soft, yet durable suit against my cheeks is fresh in my mind. part of me wants to feel her actual skin caressing my face. just the palm of her hand. or maybe even her lips.

the scandalous thought hits me in the face when i remember who it is i'm thinking about. no no no. i'm just a horny boy who is thinking with the wrong part of his body. there is no way i can be thinking these things about edie. not my best friend, that would be so weird.

right?

-

it's nearing dinner time the next day after mr. stark and happy left to meet up with the others. i've done my best to stay in my room, but the nagging feeling in my stomach craved for any food other than the peanut butter crackers i smuggled in the middle of the night.

with a groan, i peel back my sheets and crawl out of bed. i walk over to my door and pull it open, checking both ways to see if it was clear. i sigh with relief as i see no signs of edie and step out into the hall.

it's not that i don't want to see her, but...i kinda don't want to see her. i took the time to myself to think of my messed up feelings. i haven't always felt this way. edie has always been my best friend, and that's all i saw her as. but when i realized i wouldn't see her for three months, my heart hurt and my stomach twisted. now that it's just the two of us, those feelings are magnified and blaring and overwhelming.

halfway to the kitchen i hear footsteps bounding down the hallway behind me. i whip around just to be tackled to the ground by an alarmingly strong body.

"where ya been, pete? i've tried to get you out of your room all day. by the way, i like the shirtless look." edie pants from above me with a cheeky wink. i feel myself melt at her words. she wanted to see me. who am i kidding? of course she did, i'm the only other one in the compound and she’s probably bored.  i'm dragged out of my thoughts when the rest of her sentence hits me.

looking down i do realize i have no shirt on, only a pair of sweatpants that are now sitting a little too far down on my hips due to the way edie is sitting on me. i scramble out from underneath of her, keeping hold on the band of my pants to ensure no more embarrassment. my movements send her flying on her butt a few feet away.

"oof, okay. my bad." she says awkwardly, but continues, "hey i was thinking of going out tonight? kicking a little ass and whatnot. wanna be my guy in the chair?" she asks from the ground as i stand to fix my pants. i curse my cheeks as i feel them redden.

jumping at an idea, i suggest something else, "actually i-i'll go out. don't worry about me though, i've got karen. wouldn't wanna make her jealous." i say, trying to joke. her face drops slightly before covering it up with her bright smile. i wonder how many times she's done that without me noticing.

"right. spider boy doesn't need little ole me. i'll be here when you get back." she chirps as she hops up from the floor, "at least keep me in mind when you're out there. i'll be right here." she taps her ear and i notice the tiny piece of metal made to fit her ear perfectly. it's her comm that tony gave us to ensure we're always sure of each other's safety. mine is sitting in my room, untouched.

"okay, e. i better get r-ready to go." i stammer out and turn back to my room.

"aren't you gonna eat?" she calls from behind me as i make my retreat.

my mission to get food was unsuccessful.

edie's pov.

i watch peter stumble back down the hall, seemingly eager to be anywhere i'm not. i brush the thought away and cop it up to nerves. we're officially here by ourselves, i'm nervous too.

i turn on my heel and head to the kitchen, where i begin making mac and cheese. it's one of my favorite things to eat, so i double the portions for later. or maybe i'll be generous and share some with peter.

my ear piece makes a short static noise and soon peter's voice is flooding through my head, "i'm heading out now, edie. uh, i guess let me know if there's an emergency or something. but other than that i'll be offline." he says, immediately doing so before i can respond.

i huff and plop myself down on a stool, waiting for my water to boil on the stove. my heart begins to sink. if peter is going to be acting this way the whole time we're here, i don't know if i'm so excited anymore. sure, i know this is a huge responsibility on our shoulders but we can still have fun, right?

"a watched pot never boils." i whisper to myself as i let my head fall into my hands. soon after that i feel my mind start to slip into a calmer state, easing me into a sleepy trance. i try my best to fight the feeling, but as soon as my eyes slide shut, i'm done for.

-

"edie? e? what's going on over there? there's an alarm going off, edie. edie!"

my head snaps up off of the marble kitchen island as i take in the room around me. the pot of water is definitely boiling now. so much so that the smoke detectors have started going off.

"edie!"

i stand up, still trying to gather myself and run over to the stove.

"pete? gosh, sorry. it's nothing i'm fine, i was just- FUCK. oh ouch ouch ouch." i put my thumb in my mouth and begin to suck on it, apparently i'm not awake enough to realize the pot is hot as hell before i tried to move it from the burner.

"e? are you okay? i'm coming back, hold on." peter says, worry lacing through his words. i hop up and down silently, holding my hand to my chest.

"no, no. i'm okay, just a little accident in the kitchen, i'll live." i reply, doing my best to not worry the boy protecting the city.

"oh my god, you cut off a finger, didn't you? i thought knives were your thing! i'm almost there."

"no! gosh, peter, i'm fine. finish your patrol. i'll see you later." i rush out, now at the sink, running cold water over my burn.

"too late i'm already here." he says. there’s some rustling coming through the comm, and he lets out a faint curse, "the doors aren't opening. what the hell?"

there's a silence.

"mr. stark never logged my finger print." he says, defeated. i can't help but laugh at his misfortune.

"don't worry, peter i'm coming to save you." i say with a coy smile, glad he can't see how much i'm enjoying this moment.

"totally unfair," he mutters, "i was supposed to come save you. but then again, what ever would i do without you, wolfie?"

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @whycantileaveyou @lovewolfspirit

wanna be added to the taglist? comment or send me a message :))

[spartan-ghost-m-k]

Across Dimensions part two:

Awakening:

Ghost POV:

I groan as my biotic implant feels like it bounced around my head. The air is cool against my face.

My vision returning too me as I see Phoenix sit up as well. "It appears that we are not dead, just... misplaced."  I say massaging my temple to try and relive my headache.

I look around seeing a thick jungle around us the air was thick and damp, the place looked beautiful, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling, then my ears picked up something else. Gunfire, I checked the HUD of my visor and found I only had my side arm (A/N:the pistol in the drawing I think it's the Carnifex hand cannon. please correct me if wrong.) and stand to my feet and walk over to Phoenix and help her to her feet. "You're right about that we are misplaced." She says surveying the area. "Were are we Ghost?"

"I don't know but we need to move, I hear gunfire." I go run in the direction of the firefight.

"Phe do you have a weapon?" she reaches for her back, nothing then reaches for her side to pull out her Predator pistol. "How many clips? I only have five."

"five, maybe we'll find more of our stuff on the way."

"Either that of more clips." I say as I put a barrier over my armour shield.

As we weave through the jungle into he direction of the noise I spot marines in a strange uniform and rather tall people and, or mechs in heavy armour and a brunette man in what looks like an officers uniform, they were under heavy fire from these strange machines some looked like the old style drones just glowing and sideways floating and some looked like skinny glowing FENRIS mechs and the other ones I had no idea what the hell they are.

"We need to help them." Phe motioned the her pistol and looked at me.

"We don't have enough clips." "We don't but we have an Omni-blade and we have biotics."

"sure... but we don't know them."

"We are members of the Alliance Military, It is OUR duty to help our fellow man, so let's go."

"Yes Lieutenant." She says as I sneak along the edge of the battle getting behind the strange robots.

Saying a silent prayer as I launch myself over a fallen tree firing at one of the dog-like ones, then another as Phoenix was next to the other marines firing at the other machines, creating a biotic sphere around her and the others as they look to her in mild fear, but quickly return to firing at the machines, I biotically charge at one of the larger ones and then used nova pouring the energy from my shields into it, as the larger one dissolved into a orang-yellow glowing dust. I then use stasis on a group of the dog-like ones and then throw.

A larger one appeared behind me about to bring it's blade down on me, as I quickly turned around activating my omni-blade and stabbing it in the side, at that the current battle came to an end with the strange marines finishing of the remaining forces, Phe waked to me looking exhausted from using biotics after what happened earlier on the Normandy, god knows what state our implants are in.

"Hey phe, you good?"

"Yeah, out of clips, a bit tiered and slight headache, but otherwise good." She says, as she looks o my nose. "Umm... Ghost your nose is... uh bleeding."

Surely enough I put my gloved hand to my nose to find the warm crimson liquid on my finger-tips. "Probably due to damage to my implant, either that or doing too many things at once again."

Our discussion was ended by the sound of guns being cocked and aimed at us, me and Phe immediately put a Barrier over ourselves and activated our omni-blades, I feel more blood slowly drip out my nose. A brunette woman stepped forwards *so not mechs, just really tall humans.* I thought.

She had a strange looking pistol at us. "What and who are you?" She demanded, her voice filled with authority. 

We looked at the tall female confused. Phe spoke up. "Don't you know what biotics are?"

"No." The brunette says coldly. I start to fidget, those machines could come back anytime or worse, and yet they're questioning us out in the open.

"Ok I may be speaking out of turn, but do you really think this is the right location to play twenty questions? Those machines could come back and we are all unprepared." I say, the brunette goes to argue further but the man in the officer uniform stops her.

"Lieutenant Palmer enough, the lady is right." He says looking around at the other marines.

"We need to find somewhere to treat our wounded and try to re-establish sturdy communication with the Infinity." The brunet woman speaks up again. "We still don't know them and their armour is not standard UNSC or civilian wears and judging  by the design definitely not spartan."

"I understand that Lieutenant." He turns to us with a dorky smile on his face.

"I'm commander Lasky and this is Lieutenant Palmer." He says to us as he motioned to the brunet woman.

"Nice to meet you commander, I'm Lieutenant Kaen, an my companion her is Lieutenant Panshura." I say briefly and professionally.

"But with all due respect, sir. This is hardly the place for introductions either." I say as I use my Omni-tool to scan the nearby area detecting a nearby structure.

"I have a location on somewhere That will be able to provide ample cover and a safe place to tend to the wounded, and hopefully you can re-establish communication with you ship." I say as me and Phoenix start to walk to the location I sent to her Omni-tool.

I look over my shoulder at them. "Feel free to stay there, or follow us. I ain't the one in charge of you."

After a few minuets of walking I check behind me to see the marines, Spartans, the Lieutenant and the Commander following behind. I lean to phe. "What do you recon about them?" I whisper to her.

"Lieutenant Palmer seems to have her guard held high with us, while Commander Lasky seems like the type of person who keeps an open mind." She whispered back.

I laugh slightly. "I mean the Commanders a bit of a dork though."

"Kinda reminds me how you are talking to the opposite sex normally." She retorts.

"Heh kinda like you talking in general."

"At least I can talk to people, without keeping it brief."

"At least I can keep it brief."

"Keep it brief huh?" She says smirking, as I flush a bright red.

"That's how I meant!" I yell embarrassed, whispering is out the window.

"See that's were keeping 'it brief' goes wrong, people tend to misinterpret thing."

"You know exactly what I meant!"

"Oh, do I now?" The conversation was interrupted by a short cough. we turn around to see an unimpressed Lasky. "How much did you hear?" I say meekly.

"Everything." He says looking at me. "So I'm a 'Dork' ey?"

"Nothing wrong with being a dork." Phe says with a shrug. Lasky gives her a 'really' look.

"Eh. I tried to save ya." She says patting my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as an insult, but I guess that's up to the person's interpretation. I am sorry if I offended you." I say slowly sinking in on myself *I never apologise.* I notice Phe look at me mildly surprised. "wow. You've reached a whole knew level of dysfunctionality." She says sarcastically, laughing slightly.

I just start walking looking at the ground refusing to speak. "What do you mean by that?" I over hear Lasky asking Phe.

"Oh, she never apologises. You must've really made her unconfutable for her to apologize. Without argument." She says laughing slightly.

"Should I consider that an honour?" He says, I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Most people make her unconfutable, especially ones she finds cute." She says laughing slightly.

As I increase my walking speed. And I wasn't paying attention as I feel something tug my ankle as I fall forwards and down a slope, my helmets visor finally smashed cutting the ridge of my nose as I land with a thump. "I think there's a fucking slope!" I yell up minorly in pain, as I pull my helmet off. *No use now.*

"Hey! There's a slope, I think it's pretty steep." Phe says

"No shit Sherlock!" I yell up, as she takes a step and slips down.

She stops just besides me as I feel a sharp pain in my left shoulder. "Hey Phe, my shoulders outta place!" I see the others found a safer route down as they walk over to check on us. "You two ok?" Lasky asks.

"I think I fucked my ankle over, but I'll be able to walk." Phe responds.

Lasky looks to me. "And you?"

"Well, my helmets fucked and My shoulder is dislocated but I can deal with that..." I say looking down at my literally twisted ankle.

"I think I'll be fine... Just... Just need to... Uhhh... Walk it off. Yeah. Just gotta walk it off." I say painfully popping my shoulder into place with a sickening pop, I try to stand up but as I put pressure on my ankle I scream slightly and fall back down.

"I don't think your ankle is meant to face that way." Phe says looking slightly worried.

"I agree, the condition of your leg leaves you in no position to walk." He says taking a step towards me, helping me up and proceeding to attempt to loop my arm over his shoulder, but there was a major height difference also I can't walk without support so he took it upon himself to carry me bridal style. "W... What are you doing, I... I can walk..." I say getting gradually more and more embarrassed. Lasky looks down at me with a serous face.

"No you can't your ankle is facing the wrong way." "But..."

"Actually you would be surprised, she's walked on worse." Phoenix says, attempting to save me from further argument.

"Such as?" Lasky asked.

"Well, something fell on the lower half of her left leg and crushed below the knee, she voluntarily hoped for a full hours walk."

"She is not doing that, her ankle needs to rest and have no stress on it, at all." And he starts to walk.

"Stubborn bastard." I grumble under my breath.

"I heard that."

"I hope so." I say crossing my arms, looking away from him.

"And she's being a child, again."

"She does this often?"

"For someone as hard-ass as her, she's surprisingly immature."

"Heh, reminds me of some people I know."

"I'm going to the back." Phe says as she slows her walking pace and lags at the back.

"You didn't have to carry me." I say meekly.

"Well, you and Miss Panshura assisted us, and even though you did kind of insult me..."

"I said I was sorry."

"... You helped me and my men, so I'll help you." He says looking down at my smaller frame in his arms.

"Thank you... and... and I'm sorry for insulting you." I mumbled.

After halve an hour and a few altercations with the strange machines, and of Lasky carrying me walking we reached a very advanced looking structure buried in the forestry.

"Commander this is the structure I detected on my map, there's a clearing a bit further along you could try to secure as a landing zone." I informed him.

"Thank you for finding the location for us."

"It's standard protocol, if lost in a unknown location and if you have wounded find a safe structure of a defensible position and head there immediately."

"That makes sense. "

"Also Commander?"

"Yes?"

"Can you put me down now, I want to scan the structure, and maybe some of the plants, see if any have medicinal uses?"

"Sure but either me or another marine will accompany you. You still haven't explained what a Biotic is."

"I understand I guess we have plenty of time now for me and Phe to explain a biotic, but I also have the information on my Omni-tool." I say activating it and pulling up the files on Biotics.

After a few minuets of him reading the information he looks at me. "So it's like telekinesis?" He asked curiously.

"Kind of, it is hard to explain but it has a multitude of uses, but just believe this me and Phe are on your side." I say reassuringly.

"Hey, I'm convinced. I think that the Lieutenant will need more convincing that me." he says smiling slightly. I laugh slightly. "So Commander, You said that you would allow me to take scans of the architecture? May I?" I say keeping eye contact with the taller male. He thought for a few seconds. "Sure, but I did say with supervision, and since your leg is still the.. uh... way it is. I will accompany you." He says wrapping an arm around my waist to allow me to walk properly. I huff in mild annoyance. "I'm not a child you know."

He looks down at me from the corner of his eye as we were walking about the large space of the structure. "Well you sure do act like one." He says mildly amused.

I was about to say something in response but we stop by what looks to be a terminal. "Scan away, Little Biotic." He says almost teasingly.

"You do know I can make you have to cling to the ceiling right?" He gulps.

After a few moments going through the alien terminal, and learning about these Forerunners, and me and the Commander poking fun at each other.

We both hear the Lieutenant's voice ring through, Commander picking p movement outside the door." A few seconds of silence. "It's the Master Chief, sir."

"Affirmative Lieutenant." As he wraps his arm around my waist again. Escorting me back to the main area.

[wolfbane37]

``Seriously guys, I tell you guys the other day that I'm playing for the other team and you drag me to the first gay club you guys see?'' Raph grumbles softly, a heavy blush powdering his cheeks as his brother, Mikey and his boyfriend, Leonardo, drag him to the front of the line of a gay dance club, the gentle thrum of the bass ringing in everyone's ears. Leo's brother, Donatello, had also joined him with his girlfriend April, they both chuckling at the hothead's embarrassment.

``Of course bro!! You gotta get a boyfriend'', Mikey grinned wide at him, pushing him inside.

``Relax, before you know it, you'll be getting laid by you're new boyfriend by midnight tonight'', Donnie commented as he gently tucks in Raph's white tank top into his pants to accentuate his muscular body, despite the inflexibility of his shell. 

The hot head grumbles and stumbles inside, eyes widening at the sight of all the guys dancing and grinding together. Raph grumbles softly, blushing hard and goes over to the bar, shoving off the two sets of lovebird and getting himself a beer. Just then, the lights in the club and the music shifted dramatically, all the men dancing on the floor chatting excitedly as a stage brightens up.

``Alright gentlemen!! You know what time it is!! Lets give a warm welcome to the Sexy Beasts of the Night!'' the DJ announces over the intercom as three grown men, all half naked saunter onto stage, their silhouettes standing out from the light.

A steady beat of music starts to thrum into the air, as one of the guys steps forth, his hips swaying to the beat. Raph's eyes adjusted to the light and he saw that the man was a hybrid of a lizard and a turtle. The impressive combination of the two species giving him luscious green skin that encased practical muscles exceptionally. He was wearing soft blue jeans that were tight around his hips but left plenty of room for the imagination bellow the waste line. His v-muscles standing out with his abs because the fine line of scutes that lines his chest. His shell was small, barely noticeable on his back. His hands were hugged tight to some black, finger-less gloves, defining his four fingers nicely. The next thing to stand out was his long, yet slim tail that sway with hips. Finally, covered by a tight fedora, his head was lined nicely with raven, silk like hair that accented his crimson eyes.

Raph couldn't help but appreciate that his body was also generously covered in tattoos of various types, somehow accenting his muscle tone more. But what stood out more about this man was his voice, because as soon as he was well in front of the other two men that were with him, he started dancing in time with the music and singing.

``Its going down, I'm yelling timber,

You better move, You better dance.

Let's make tonight, You won't remember,

I'll be the one, You won't forget.''

The trio danced in time with one another, each putting one their own little show to all the surrounding men, their body's screaming energy and sex with every move. Raph had to swallow a very big lump in his throat as they started to join the crowd on the dance floor. The lead singer danced with grace but sexuality, grinding against his fellow dancers and some of the customers there that night as well.

Raph caught a heavenly fragrance, no doubt from the same lead singer. With just the inhale alone, Raph was fully aroused and so wanted to meet the male, unable to take his eyes off the moving muscles before him.

``You best not get your hopes up, boy. Luca rarely see's anyone that doesn't pique his interests, and that's coming from personal experience'', said the rabbit bartender behind him, having been watching the hot head get swooned off his feet from the performers.

``Luca.....'' Raph murmurs softly, not really paying attention to the bartender, too absorbed in the performance to really pay attention.

Almost as soon as that song ended, another began with the same sexual feeling to it, but not beating around the bush with the lyrics. Again, the lead singer takes the initiative to start the song.

``She got a body like an hour glass, But I can give it to you all the time,

She got a booty like a Cadillac, But I can send you into overdrive.

(You've been waiting for that......Step on up swing your bat)

See anybody could be bad to you, you need a good boy to blow your mind, yeah''

They danced in time with the lyrics, the lead singer turning to the bar this time, seeming to catch Raph's gaze for a moment. His eyes seemed to envelope Raph in a heated gaze, making Raph swallow visibly, actually kinda intimidated by the predatory look in the male's eyes. The singer snickers and saunters over to Raph, singing proudly.

``She might've let you hold her hand in school, But I'm a show you how to graduate,

No, I don't need to hear you talk the talk, Just come and show me what your momma gave yah~''

Luca pressed right up against Raph and seemed to give him a personal performance, the crowd whistling with delight at the sight, Leo and Mikey off to the side laughing loudly. Donnie and April couldn't help go all fangirls at the sight, hoping Raph gets the shot. Luca smirks wider, getting the look of cat having caught a mouse. He slides back slowly only after he shoves his fedora into Raph's face, the crowd shouting louder now, some excited and other sound somehow extremely jealous.

``Well, I'll be damned......Looks like Luca's interested......'' the bartender almost murmured to himself.

That seemed to snap Raph out of his trance of watching the young dancer to turn to the bartender.

``What does this mean?''

``Means you stick around tonight and you can talk to young Luca'', the bartender chuckles at Raph while sliding him another beer. ``On the house, you're gonna need it.''

Raph's eyes widen and he grins wide at the thought of talking to Luca. He hums softly to himself, taking a slow inhale of the fedora, finding the natural musk of the young male along with faint scents of peppermint and cinnamon. Raph chuckles and slides the hat on just as he was swamped with his friends.

Raph smirked up at the dancers as they continued their performance, Luca keeping eye contact with Raph through the entire thing. Finally, the last song plays out and the dancers end right in the middle of a giant swarm. All the men in the entire joint was squishing against the dancers to hug, touch and pay the dancers for the performances by shoving money in all the places they could reach, in Luca's case was his waist band. More than once, a hand lingered too long or to close to his more intimate spots, making him flush and start to leave to get out of the seeking hands back stage followed by his back up singers and dancers.

Snorting his amusement, Raph orders another drink and waits patiently for the lead dancer to return on his own.

About thirty minutes later, after sending his friends home on their own so he could have some alone time with the young dancer, Raph was drinking the foam slowly off his cold beer when he felt a warm body press against his back, leaning over him to talk to the bartender.

``Hey barkeep!! Four shots of tequila for me and my friend here!'' a smooth voice shouted, the scent of cinnamon catching in Raph's nostrils.

Looking over his shoulder, Raph came face to face with the charming young singer, having a small scent of soap, his hair still damp from obvious signs of a shower. He wore a dark red t-shirt and similar jeans as before and now he held a small toothpick between his lips, looking slightly chewed on. Luca catches his eyes with a charming entrancement and sits right beside him as the bartender sets out the four shots between the two.

``So handsome, whats a place like you doing in a stud like this?'' he says softly, gazing fondly at Raph with a slightly predatory gaze.

Raph couldn't help but snort at the poor pick up line, setting his empty glass aside to grab a lime and a shot. ``My friends insisted I see some action on my second day out of the closet.''

``Wha? First day out as a gay man? Dear lord, the pressure is on then for good impressions. I guess the bad pick up line was not a good idea'', the young male's flushed up in embarrassment as he mimicked Raph's action and grabbing a lime and a shot for himself. In unison, they drink the shot and limes together, both cringing at the burn and sourness, laughing happily.

``That's ok. Cheesy pick up line help make this more relaxing. I'm glad to find that I'm someone's taste anyhow. I'm not sure how many people are actually into mutant turtles'', Raph joked as he work the second shot down, grinning softly.

``Probably the same amount that think a salamander/turtle hybrid is sexy and easy to play with'', Luca joked back, downing his last shot easily, nudging Raph playfully.

``Sounds rough.''

``You have no idea. Anyhow, where are your friends? I wanna thank whoever brought in the eye candy.'' Luca turned and looked through the crowd to see anyone that would know Raph.

``Don't bother, they left a few minutes ago under my request to let me relax and actually enjoy being hit on by other men'', the hot head chuckles and moved to order a new drink.

``So your alone now?! Oh hell no, barkeep! A bottle of Fireball Whiskey, a bottle of Bailey's caramel and two shot glasses please!!'' Luca slaps a couple of $20's on the counter to pay and tip the bartender as he pulls out the bottles. Snatching up the bottles, Luca motions Raph to follow him. Raph shrugs and grabs the shot glasses and follows Luca through the crowd to a guarded door.

``Hey Darling, can I just......?'' Luca sets a bottle to the side and slowly takes the tie off one of the body guards, grinning wide when the guard's cheek get a powder color on his cheeks but his expression remains neutral as he opens the door for Luca. ``Thanks Doll!! Common...'' Luca giggles giddily and drags Raph into the back, Raph blushing at how Luca looks from behind.

They slowly approach a door that was open slightly. Pushing in the hot head, Luca slides the tie on the doorknob and follows Raph in, shutting and locking the door. Turning in, the singer sets the bottles down and takes the shot glasses.

``To have a perfect evening here, you have to have my absolute favorite and the public special French Toast shot. One part Fireball and one part Bailey's......'' he murmurs softly as he pours the drinks, his tail flicking from side to side as he focuses before he turns and offers Raph the shot.

Studying the creamy liquid skeptically, Raph glanced at Luca curiously to see him down his shot with complete ease. Shrugging, Raph down's his as well. Eyes widen in shock as the burn in his throat his cooled by cream, the combination tasting exactly like liquid french toast with the burn of alcohol.

``What the shell??!! That was french toast!!''

``I told you!'' Luca laughed at his reaction and turned to make two more shots before handing him his glass again, the singer's cheeks flushing slightly from the alcohol. Together, they downed more and more of the liquid breakfast treat before Luca was laughing his ass off and Raph was chuckling humorously, only mildly drunk when the singer was slammed drunk.

``C-can I tell you......*snort* that I've never d-drunk with `nother person from here `fore? *hic* Like, I've drank here `fore but I've never go'en this drunk `fore'', Luca giggled as he sloshed his drink against Raph after tipping over and landing on his side, laughing loudly at the spill.

``And why is that? Don't hang out with that many people?'' Raph chuckled as he helps Luca sit on the couch properly, ignoring the spill on his tank for now.

``I don't like people......people are so clingy and needy....They don't ask what Luca wants....I feel safe with you, even though I just met you'' the singer snorted and leaned against Raph as his words slurred. ``You smell really good~''

Flushing at the compliment, Raph scratched at his cheek sheepishly and smiles at the small lizard. ``You smell good too. Like cinnamon.''

``That's because of these.''

Sluggishly, Luca fished through his pants and pulled out a small box containing toothpicks. The label said tea tree therapy toothpicks, cinnamon flavored.

``Trying to quick smoking.....'', the drunk slurred tiredly, glaring at the picks before pulling one out and slips it between his soft lips, the strong scent of cinnamon radiating off the pick and his breath into Raph nose.

``That might be a good idea'', the hot head chuckled softly, blushing hard at the smell. Shivering slightly, he starts to pull away, noticing that Luca was starting to doze.

``Where are you goin'?''

``I'm calling it a night. You are very drunk and should sleep it off'', Raph chuckled softly at the drunk that tried to stay awake.

``W-wait.....'' Luca groaned and rolled off the couch, falling onto the floor with a grunt. He slowly starts to get up, groaning weakly as he crawls over to a desk, giving a Raph a great view of his ass and muscled thighs. Reaching onto the desk blindly, Luca feels around before wrapping his fingers around a sharpie and slowly stands up, shakily walking over to Raph.

Swallowing thickly, Luca grabs Raph's arm and yanks it towards him, scribbling on his hand in barely legible handwriting his name and number. ``I have two more shows this *hic* week, and then I'm free for the weekend. Call me, Raphael.''

Eyes wide at what just happened, all Raph could do was nod, watching as Luca grins a dopey drunk smile before collapsing on the couch, the marker falling out of his grasp and rolling uselessly onto the floor. Shaking his head at the graceless fall, the hot head stands and adjust the sleeping hybrid into a more comfortable position, throwing a blanket over his back and slides a pillow under his head. Snatching up the marker, Raph decides to write his name and number onto Luca's hand as well to help him remember the night before slipping out the door and flicking off the light.

Chuckling to himself, Raph slowly saunters out of the dance studio, humming one of the tunes that Luca sang earlier that evening......

``.......Let's make tonight you won't remember........I'll be the one you won't forget......''

XXXX

This is part of a series I've written with more stunning art work. Let me know what you guys think and I'll post more here. Also, the art is by @yukarishii

[tmblake130]

The Glass Bowl

Short Story By T M. BLAKE

"Ichiroll hurry if we're going to make it to the portals in time!" Ichiro's mother yells. Ichiro stuffs the last of his breakfast in his mouth and deposes of his trash. He rushes to the door where his mother waits for him with her hand outstretched, taking it as they both exit their home.

It is a sunny day on the streets of Preo. They follow the familiar path to the portal station, blending in with the sea of tamers of all snakes and sizes.

When they reach their destination, Ichiro's mother leads him over to one of the oval-shaped portals that sucks in the air around it.

Squatting down to meet his eyes, Ichiro's mother fixes the collar of his shirt. "Have a good day my Ichiroll."

Ichiro gave her a quick hug before moving past her. He was scared of the kids from his school seeing him hugging his mother as if he was a small child.

Fighting against the wind of the portal as it swirls, Ichiro steps through, finding himself in front of a tan overwater bungalow hut. It has a grey roof and several square windows and it stands on stilts that led to the bottom of the ocean. Ichiro's sandals rest on the grey boardwalk that separates each line of huts. At the top of the door sat an elegant painting of a pygmy rattlesnake so he knows he is in the right place.

As his peers plop out of other portals around him, Ichiro gazes at his wrist nervously. When he comes to school every day, he strives to do his best to get closer and closer to his dream.

The memory of his father's last visit flashes through Ichiro's mind. His father is a well-known military General so he is rarely home. When he comes back home, Ichiro tries to make the most of the time his dad takes off to be with his family. They were sitting around the table. His father smiled down proudly at Ichiro as he told him that once he completed his training, he would become a warrior and fight under his father's command. If he worked hard, he would become a General himself.

Kano, his snake companion, sits on his wrist in the form of a knitted bracelet. It is a trick he learned a year ago, a simple altercation of the snake's original form. Hiroyuki snakes were magical creatures and Ichiro looked forward to each day he gets closer and closer to discovering Kano's full potential. Kano was a pygmy rattlesnake, granting him the power to make things invincible with physical touch.

Taking a deep breath, he climbs the short, wooden ladder and enters the hut. It is filled with small children and Ichiro's teacher, Sensei Misaki. She is wrapped in a pink and purple Kimono. Her black hair is longer than Ichiro's mother's hair, cascading down to her knees. She is instructing everyone to sit on the floor with their legs crossed. Once everyone was accounted for, she clasps her thin fingers together, her thin cherry-colored lips bending into a kind smile.

"Good morning class!"

"Good Morning Sensei Misaki!" the class says in unison.

Sensei Misaki's smile brightens. "Let's see. Does anyone remember what we've been studying in class for the last three weeks?"

Most of the students raise their hands, but Sensei Misaki points to a girl in the front.

"Water Damage and Shattering Prevention."

"That is right Hana-chan."

She holds out her hands as her brown pygmy rattlesnake slithers from inside the sleeve of her kimono, spiraling around her hands and fingers before turning into a purple glass bowl. The students jump in surprise when she lets it crash to the ground, watching it break into a thousand pieces. A second later, the pieces gravitate towards each other until they form a perfectly undamaged bowl again.

"Today, I will be measuring your skill level with each of these preventions. It is okay if everyone doesn't pass. I just want to assess where you are in your training so far."

She asks the three weekly helpers to bring a small table, a translucent square pail, a jar of seawater, and a stack of paper to the front of the classroom.

When it was their turn, each student takes a piece of paper, holding it for a moment, and then dips it into the pail of water. When they take it out of the water, the piece of paper is either a mushy white mess barely holding itself together or perfectly intact.

When it is Ichiro's turn, his belly rolls in anticipation. He'd practiced this exercise at home countless times. Still, he is scared of messing up in front of his teacher and classmates. He closes his eyes and holds the thin piece of paper, focusing his energy on his fingers. He images the paper coming out completely intact. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and dipped the paper into the seawater. After holding it there for a couple of seconds, he brings a damped piece of paper back to the surface. The writing is still visible. His heart swells with triumph as he steps aside for the next person.

After everyone has their turn, Sensei Misaki switches to the shattering exercise. Sensei Misaki asks the three helpers to retrieve a stack of plain, porcelain bowls each. Once they sit them down in front of the class, Sensei Misaki touches the top of each stack before instructing everyone to take one. She then instructs the helpers to pass out arts and crafts supplies to the class.

Using the supplies, the students decorate their porcelain. Ichiro covers his paintbrush in a mixture of orange, yellow, and red, drawing random lines along the exterior of his bowl.

While the bowls dry, Sensei Misaki begins a history lesson. At the end of class, she lets everyone take their bowls home with an assignment.

"I want to congratulate you all for doing so well today. However, I've decided to give you guys one final test." The class erupted into mild chatter, but their teacher quickly shushes them. "You will be responsible for keeping your bowl unharmed for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, those that bring their bowl back undamaged will receive a special prize. I hope you guys have a good rest of the day!"

Ichiro and his classmates form a line as Sensei Misaki leads them to the portal station. It is crowded. Children from other huts wait for their parents and guardians.

His mother is waiting for him as always. He walks over to her and they take a portal back home.

Ichiro wraps his hand around his bowl protectively the entire time. When he gets home, he sits the bowl on a cushioned pillow, scared it might break. As he does his homework, he feels something small bounces off his head.

In a mixture of curiosity and irritation, he picks up a pebble that hit him. Looking in the direction the pebble came from, he finds his window halfway ajar. Kano, who had been peacefully sleeping, arose and hisses at the window. Peeping out, he comes face to face with two of his classmates, Itsuki and Kai. He plays with them sometimes when he's not at school, practicing, or doing homework.

"Hi Ichiro-san," they say in unison.

"Hai Itsuki-san and Kai-san."

Itsuki is the first to speak. "Tough assignment Sensei gave us. I didn't get a good look at the paintings on yours. Can you bring it out here so we can get a better look? We'll see who's looks the coolest."

I don't know if that's a good idea, Kano's voice is thick with concern and uncertainty. Ichiro quickly reassures him with a meer thought. It is rude to respond to the voice of your snake spirit in front of other people. He learned that the hard way.

"Hmm. It's not safe for it to come out there."

"You used your powers on it Ichiro," Itsuki smirks. "It can't break. You're the top of the class so this should be an easy assignment for you."

"I guess you're right. Hold on." Ichiro hurries away from the window, grabbing the bowl and tucking it under his arm. "I'll be out."

"Where are you going?" Ichiro's mother asks once he comes out of his room. She is in the living room with one of her clients.

"Outside to play with some friends" Ichiro answers, zooming out the door before his mother could see what he is carrying.

"Okay, stay where I can see you!"

He meets Kai and Itsuki on the side of Kai's house. They both lean forward as Ichiro shows them the bowl.

"Can I hold it?" Kai asks. He holds out his hands, a mischievous smile spreading on his face.

"I—I don't think so." Ichiro backs away from the two boys, but they only walk closer. His eyes wander to their empty hands. "Where are your bowls?"

"C'mon Ichiro, give us the bowl." A crooked smile spreads over Itsuki, his words spitting like acid.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"We're to break it, of course, Ichiro — or should I say Ichiroll."

Heat rises to Ichiro's cheeks at the sound of his mother's nickname for him. "W—w—why would you do that?"

"Because you act like your better than everyone else. You're the general's son and we know you get special treatment. Your rich dad is probably paying Sensei to give you private lessons. That's why you're so good. The best in the class."

"Special treatment? Sensei Misaki treats me like anyone else. I just practice and study. You're supposed to be my friends."

"You were supposed to be our friend Ichiro." Itsuki and Kai came closer to him, ready to snatch the bowl from his hands. Their smiles had turned into glares. They circled Ichiro ready to pounce. "But friends don't cheat!"

Itsuki jumps at Ichiro first. Ichiro quickly dodges his attackers and dashes into Kai's front yard.

The boys chase Ichiro through the neighborhood. They nearly bulldoze stands, clotheslines, animals, and people. After zigzagging through the neighborhood, Ichiro finds himself at a dead end. Looking around, he tries to find a way out of this sticky situation.

Ichiro! Kano's deep voice echoed through his skull. Throw me on the ground!

Ichiro rips the bracelet from his wrist and tosses it to the ground. A big brown mud puddle appears before him. He plunges into it, surrounding himself with dark water.

Itsuki and Kai arrive a second later looking around for Ichiro. He watches through the murky water as they look around before turning around. He waits a couple of minutes before climbing out of the mud puddle, his clothes surprisingly dry.

He clinches the bowl to his chest as he thinks of a shortcut home. He is about to walk forward when his toe bumps against a rock mounted in the ground. His toe curls in pain and he quickly nurses it. The bowl slips out of his grasp. Its fragile form collides with the ground, breaking into pieces.

A cloud of shame surrounds Ichiro as he walks home without the bowl. He'd let everyone down. Sensei Misaki. His mother. His father. Himself. He is stripped of his confidence.

His mother waits for him outside the house. Her hands are crossed over her chest and the disappointed look on her face makes Ichiro drain of color.

His mother already knows. She always knows about everything. He doesn't have to say a word before she points a stern finger towards the house.

Within minutes, he finds himself in his room. As he lays on his bed, Kano slithers from around his wrist and morphs into a pillow. Ichiro lays on his side and hugs the pillow close to him.

His mother enters his room shortly after. She sits on his bed. "I'll have to talk to Kai and Itsuki's parents and contact your teacher to tell her what happened." His mother's voice was softer than when he got home. "It's okay my little Ichiroll. It will all be okay."

"Can you not call me that? It's embarrassing." Ichiro's heart is halfway into the words are they slip out of his mouth. He loves his mother's nickname for him, but not if it was going to cause his peers to laugh at him.

"What? You are my little Ichiroll. You will always be my little Ichiroll no matter how strong or handsome you become. You shouldn't be ashamed of me showing you that. You're lucky to have a loving parent like me. Some children don't ever get to hear their mother's voices or feel their embrace. If your friends make fun of you loving your mother, they don't deserve to be friends with an amazing person like you."

Ichiro's cheeks are covered with tears as he turns to look at her. "But they said that I wasn't a good friend because I cheated. Misaki Sensei is giving me special treatment and that is why I'm at the top of my class. I just practice and study."

"They don't understand. They don't see how hard you work. I thought they were good boys too. You have to understand that with everything comes a price. They're just jealous that you work hard and receive promising results."

"But what am I going to do about the bowl? Sensei Misaki will be disappointed and I will fail my test."

"I will handle the situation. I know they were your friends Ichiroll and they betrayed you today. Keep working hard and don't let jealous people stop you."

Ichiro lets go of Kano in pillow form. He hugs his mother, his father's last visit coming back to him. He would work hard to make him proud no matter what it took. He decided from that day forward that no one was going to get in the way of that ever again.

No one.