#natural daylight is the best i tell ya

[cepheusgalaxy]

@clickerflight @whump-art-exchange

Image ID: An ink drawing of Kolt, naked, from the whump series Fallen. He is bruised and looks away as the chain attached to his collar is tugged. He is inside what appears to be a cell, with multiple eyes on the walls watching him intensely. /end ID.

Ok, so, I tried to do this like two times and it took me a while to lay the sketch. I had an idea for what to do--i went to give the series a shot, once i noticed this buddy here is a part of one so i could get better context--and so the idea i had was for making something from his villain days! It appears that Kolt as a villain was very intriguing (at least for me) but I couldn't make a sketch I was satisfied with, so I decided to go more whumpy! I remember a part where Kolt is in his recovery and he remembers when multiple people were watching and mocking him....couldn't get this over my head. Overall, I haven't finished it yet, but Fallen is a great series! They write it so well!

Art taglist:

@for-the-love-of-angst

[featherandferns]

guilty as sin? (fic - part 1/2)

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | largely inspired by the bible

content warning: sexual content; mentions of parental abuse (physical abuse) | any questions for trigger warnings, feel free to inbox anonymously

word count: 14k.

blurb: when you, John B's half sister, return to Kildare after over two years of living in Colorado, your adolescent crush that you harboured for his best friend comes screaming back. Because you and JJ can't be together in real life, what's the harm in a fantasy?

“And this is your room.”

The syrup-coloured wood is the first thing your eyes meet when John B pushes open the bedroom door. There’s the vague lingering smell of teenage boy which he’s tried to air out, the window open ajar, and the clutter of his belongings has been moved to make space for your own. As you drop your duffel bag and step into the room, you take in the walls. There’s posters and prints stuck above his bed, dotted around on slats of wood separating windows: someone surfing; a rockstar smashing his guitar. An old skateboard deck is nailed into the wall alongside a license plate. The sheets are bright blue, the bed freshly made, and a clean towel is folded up at the foot. It’s well-lit with plenty of daylight flowing through the many windows. Homely and inviting.

“Is it, uh, alright?”

You turn to find John B leaning against the doorframe, hands in his short pockets. Smiling, you nod.

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “I’m honestly chill with crashing on the couch, though.”

It’s pretty obvious this was his room: you feel guilty kicking him out.

He shakes his head and gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “I moved into my dad’s room anyway. This has been the spare for a while.”

“Well, thanks,” you smile.

He nods, mirroring your content. “I’ll let you settle in and stuff. I moved all my crap out the closet so you can put your stuff in there, and the top bedside drawer is empty.”

“That’s perfect,” you say. You lift your bag with a grunt and dump it on the bed.

“I gotta go to work but call if you need anything. Shouldn’t be back too late.”

Unzipping your bag, you look to him. “Where’d you work?”

“Got this gig helping out at Ward Cameron’s. Don’t know if you remember him?”

“Course I do,” you snort. “The kingpin of Kildare, and your dad’s treasure hunting buddy.”

There’s a tense silence as your words catch up with you. You press your eyes shut, embarrassed.

“Shit, sorry. That didn’t come out how I meant it to.”

“It’s cool,” John B says, graciously gliding past it. “Anyway, he pays pretty good so can’t complain. Mostly just handy-man odd jobs.”

“Very noble work,” you joke.

With a quiet laugh, John B nods and backs out the door. He lingers another moment, contemplating saying something else. “Look, uh, I know it isn’t ideal circumstances, you coming back to Kildare and stuff, but I’m glad you’re here. Really. It’s nice having you back, sis.”

Your mood sobers, smile turning solemn.

“Thanks,” you quietly reply.

He nods once more and pats the doorframe in farewell. “Right, I’ll let you get unpacked. See you later.”

“See ya.”

When John B leaves – the front door shuddering against the house as it slams shut – you’re overcome with quiet. In Colorado, where you lived with your mom in the city, there was little nature. You forgot how peaceful Kildare is. Through the crack in the window, birdsong and cricket chimes accompany the sound of your unpacking. You turf out your clothes and take to putting them in the closet. Shoes and bags and bikinis. A jacket and a few sweatshirts. It was easy enough to plan for your outfits considering you’re only staying the summer. You remember the weather in Kildare well enough from when you used to live here.

Once you’ve unpacked your clothes, you find your paints. A box of watercolours which have seen much use and love, the hinges rusted and the inside of the palette smeared with dried mixed paint. Turning to the bedside table, you pull open the bottom drawer on accident. You come face to face with corny porno magazines, a box of tissues, two wrapped condoms and a half empty bottle of painkillers.

“Gross,” you mutter, slamming it shut. Yep, this was definitely a dude’s bedroom.

The top drawer is empty, like John B promised. You fill it with your paints and sketchbooks and pencils.

As the day ploughs on, the room becomes increasingly saturated with your personality. Postcards from Colorado, of the towns and cities you visited, photographs from school of your friends and classmates: you scatter them along them wall, amongst John B’s. Some of your favourite paintings, alongside artists which inspire you, join the mix. On the desk you add a few of your own books to the haphazard stack of abandoned homework and school reports.

At the bottom of your duffle bag is your penny board. You look around the room, searching for empty space to slot it without adding to already cluttered surroundings, and opt to slot it under the bed. Ducking down, you come face to face with a collection of empty beer cans. Clearly the spring cleaning only went so far. It’s noisy as you drag them out, but you’re certain you hear someone shouting. Pausing, sitting back on your haunches, you turn to peer out the open bedroom door. It’s silent for a moment, and then you hear footsteps.

“Yo! JB, you home?”

It’s a guy shouting. His voice sounds vaguely familiar. When he comes into the corridor, he glances into Big John’s bedroom (now claimed by your older half-brother) first. Blonde messy hair and well-worn combat boots instantly name him. JJ.  He turns to the spare bedroom and stops short the moment his eyes land on you, sat amongst a pile of trash.

“You’re not John B,” he says.

“What gave me away?” you reply with a lift of your brows.

There’s a long awkward moment where he stares at you. You can practically hear the cogs turning as he takes you in. When you lift your arm up to scratch the back of your neck, realisation dawns upon him. You imagine your scar on the outside of your elbow gave you away.

“Holy crap! Little Routledge?” he gapes.

You laugh. “Haven’t been called that in a minute.”

JJ steps into the room and you get to your feet. He tackles you into a hug. It’s too short, too sudden, and then he’s stepping away from you again, leaving you dizzy on your feet.

“The fuck? You’re, like, grown now,” he says.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “well, I am sixteen.”

“The fuck!” he repeats. He then takes in where you’re standing, and the state of the room, and frowns. “Wait, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Colorado with your mom?”

“I was,” you say. You kick one of the cans out the way and fold your arms over your chest, shrugging. “I came back for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s sick!”

You laugh. It’s a nice reaction to have from someone who you haven’t seen for over two years.

“John B gave you his old room then?”

He walks into it as if it’s his own. You watch as he studies the new additions to the wall that you’ve added. Lingers on one of your paintings.

"Yeah, he’s moved into his dad’s, apparently.”

“Yeah, he moved in there a while ago,” JJ tells you. “I’ve been sleeping in here most of the time.”

Your mind flashes back to the bedside drawer stocked with teenage boy necessities. Ah, makes sense. You remember how JJ was when you were a dorky thirteen-year-old. At the ripe age of fourteen, he had girls fawning after him. He was shameless in his reputation. The conversations you overheard between himself and John B as he’d brag about his escapades are seared into your memory, as you felt your wasted preteen heart splinter with every tale. It’s no surprise now that he’s probably just as unruly. Especially considering how he looks. There isn’t much time to ogle though because he’s looking away from the décor, meeting your gaze again.

“That explains all the empty beer cans, then,” you say.

He cringes. “Yeah, uh, sorry ‘bout that.”

You shrug. “It’s cool. I need to toss ‘em out but I don’t know where the trash bags are…”

“Oh, right,” he says, breezing past you. His cologne lingers in the air when he leaves. There’s the smallest moment for you to catch your breath as JJ bangs around in the kitchen, and then he reappears with a roll of black bags. Tosses them to you and you catch. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

You begin to shove the cans into the bag and JJ starts to help. His black button-up gapes open as he leans over and it takes everything not to glance down his shirt like some pervert.

“How come you didn’t want to stay in Colorado for the summer, then?”

“Change of scenery,” you vaguely reply. It isn’t a complete lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either.

“Well, you chose the best summer to come back. Our mission this year is to have the best summer of all time.”

“Pretty lofty goal to set,” you chuckle.

JJ glances up at you, flashing you a grin. “Nah, we got it in the bag.”

You find yourself smiling back, held captive under his stare. When he takes the now full trash bag off you, tying it off, you snap out of it.

“So, where’s your brother at then?” he asks, heading out the room. You follow.

“At work. Said he does jobs for Cameron now.”

“Oh, yeah. Cameron sorta took him under his wing after his dad…went missing,” JJ replies.

You have a feeling that the way people talk about John B’s father is rather doctored.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” you tell him, referring to Big John.

As you step on the porch, the sunlight warms your face. The floorboards creak as you make your way down them, to the garbage can outside.

“It was insane,” JJ says to you. He tosses the trash away. “I mean, we all knew Big John was a bit too into the whole royal-merchant thing but…we never thought it’d go that far, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Scary.”

JJ looks at you a moment longer. Then, he laughs to himself and shakes his head. “Can’t believe you’re sixteen now.”

“Can’t believe you’re seventeen.”

“What? I look good or something?”

He does a small spin on the spot, arms held out by his sides. You roll your eyes, acting as if you’re unaffected. It’s hard to swallow the reflex reaction of yes.

“Or something,” you say.

JJ takes it in stride. “Well, you look pretty cute yourself considering you’ve been in the mountains for the last three years.”

“I don’t live in the mountains,” you snort. The word ‘cute’ rattles around your head like a pinball.

“You’re taller now too. Practically come up to my shoulders. I remember when me and John B could pick you up by your ankle like a marlin.”

“Yeah, I remember that too,” you not-so-fondly recall.

JJ grins and steps over to you. Despite both of your growth spurts, you still have to look up at him, and him down at you. His eyes are just as dreamy as you remember them. When you first left for Colorado, you hardly had time to pack. In the midst of chaos, taking a picture of your brother’s best friend didn’t seem all that important. Cut to you spending endless nights trying to remember his eyes, the exact colour and the exact shape. Trying to remember the dimples that popped out when he smiled. The pure joy in his laugh. The way your heart felt like it might explode whenever he looked at you, even if it were for a second.

But when JJ pats your head, your chest deflates.

“Well, see you around, little Routledge,” he says, stepping away. “Tell your brother I was looking for him.”

Because even after all these years, you’re still just John B’s little sister in JJ’s eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You stare into your can of cider. In the night, the only light being that from the bonfire John B started up in the backyard, you can’t make out the colour of it. Just the swirling of liquid. You’d spent the last three days working on a watercolour of the marsh side to John B’s house, but you couldn’t capture the movement of the water quite right.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Pope frowns.

“What’s there to be confused about, Pope?” JJ sighs, seemingly exhausted from the questions. There had been an influx of them the minute John B brought you out of the Chateau. “His mom shagged her dad and boom, here she is.”

“Charming mental images there, JJ, thanks,” John B cringes.

You laugh into your drink.

“No, I get that. But…You used to live here, right?” Pope asks you.

You nod.

“But then you moved to Colorado?”

“Yeah?”

“But now you’re back here?”

“Apparently,” you say.

Pope’s frown deepens: apparently that cleared nothing up for him. You’ve never known someone so analytical. “This is complicated,” he observes.

“No shit,” Kiara quips.

It was complicated. Families usually are. You and John B had different dads, in short. Your shared mom cheated on Big John when John B was hardly a year old, putting you around 11 or so months behind him. She ran off to Raleigh with your dad to try and fix their tumultuous relationship, leaving you with Big John for practically thirteen years. Whilst he wasn't unkind to you, he never saw you as his. You supposed you were a reminder of his ex-wife's unfaithfulness. But John B treated you like blood, as did his friends.

Just after your thirteen birthday, your mom decided to flee the state, and she was taking you with her. It all came out of the blue. You weren’t exactly thrilled to go to Colorado. You liked Kildare, and North Carolina, and John B and his friends. Kiara was always nice to you. She never talked down to you, despite you being seen as John B’s little sister. You bonded over turtles and Bob Marley. JJ was different. He’d prank you with John B and tease you about your dolls, but he’d also patch you up if you fell and calm you down after a nightmare. Your crush on him evolved naturally over time. What started as childhood infatuation with the supposed delinquent of Kildare became real. You liked JJ. He was funny and rambunctious, but he had a kindness and tenderness that he kept hidden below. He was often at the house as his own family situation was far from perfect, so having him around became as familiar as John B’s presence. When you left, JJ gave you a hug that you wished would last a lifetime.

But you drifted away in Colorado. You didn’t have anybody’s phone number, save for Big John’s (which your mom refused to let you use), and you were too young to remember addresses to write to them. Social media was never something you latched onto and eventually it all faded away into a strange, dreamlike memory. Being back here is almost proof that you didn’t imagine the whole thing.

“We’re half siblings,” you say, whittling down your family history into a simple statement. “That’s all you really need to know.”

“Damn straight,” JJ whoops, downing the last of his drink. He crunches the can in his fist and heads to the cooler for another.

“You’re staying for the whole summer then?” Kiara asks.

You nod. “I’m tryna get a job at this restaurant in town to keep me busy.”

“Screw that. Just come smoke and surf with us all day, that’ll keep you occupied,” JJ grins.

He’s comfortable in himself, relaxing in a lawn chair, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His t-shirt represents one of Kildare’s small-town establishments and his shorts are stained with dust and dirt from riding his bike.

“She’s the good one out of us lot,” John B announces, gesturing to you. “Out of all the Routledge offspring, she’s gonna go places. You’re not gonna taint that, JJ.”

“And by ‘all the Routledge offspring’ you mean yourself and her?” Pope checks.

John B nods fervently. “I’m telling you! She’s madly talented.”

“You’re drunk; it’s giving you beer goggles,” you dismiss, finishing your drink.

“You were always the creative one,” JJ remarks. Everyone looks over to him. “Me and John B would be out on the water and she’d be drawing it.”

“Maybe you can show us some of your stuff,” Kiara says.

You laugh and shake your head. “Maybe not.”

The alcohol wizzes up your body as you get to your feet and you take it as a good time to call it quits.

“I think I’m gonna head in.”

“What?”

“No!”

“Come on!”

You laugh, shaking off the group’s disputes. “I’m tired!”

“Lightweight,” JJ teases. You flip him off as you pass, ditching your empty can in the garbage as you go.

“Night guys!” you holler as you head back into the house.

“Night!”

The bedroom John B offered you is starting to feel less like a guest house. You shrug off your cardigan – it stinks of smoke from the fire – and close the door. Through the window, you can hear the group chattering.

Pope seems nice. He hadn’t been around when you lived in Kildare, but you recognised his name. Heyward was a legend on the Cut; you could see his dad in his eyes. Kiara was just as you remembered her, if not more consumed by her environmental activism than before. JJ was the most staggering change of all. He’d grown into his looks, matured around the face. Any puppy fat that you remembered from childhood had vanished. Lithe and lively, he was an American heartthrob, through and through.

As you do your skincare, you glance out the window. You can make out JJ, sat with his back to you. His arms are flailing around as he tells a story. You can’t make out the details through the window but the looks on everyone’s faces tells you it’s pretty damn entertaining. He was always the joker, humour hiding whatever was happening underneath like he was arming himself with a grin. The unexplained bruises on his face and the painful batterings on his body were never explained whenever he’d stay at Big John’s, when you were younger.

The moment he shifts in his seat, you dart away from the window, scared to get caught, and finish getting ready for bed.

A bad dream rouses you awake. It was about Colorado. The warped memories keep you from falling back asleep, no matter how hard you try. Sighing, you stare at the ceiling. The room is bathed in moonlight, cosy in the wooden interior, and you contemplate sitting outside for a bit. The same cardigan from earlier gets pulled on over your vest top and you slip into some crocs.

You head for the front door, creeping past John B’s room, and step onto the porch. There’s a warm, humid air in the night. The crickets and owls harmonise with the faint buzz of mosquitos who surround the porch light. That’s when you realise that it’s already on, and you’re not alone. JJ’s on the porch, laid out on the sofa. He’s smoking a joint. The smell of weed merges into that of the dying embers from the abandoned, extinguished bonfire. You rap gently on the wall as you approach, hoping not to startle him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at the sound.

“Hey.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you say. “I thought everyone went home.”

“They did. I’m crashing here tonight. My dad’s…”

He falters, glances up at you, and shakes his head.

“Don’t need to bore you with it.”

“You’re not boring,” you hear yourself tell him.

Smiling, JJ offers the joint to you. You take it, sitting down in the red armchair at the foot of the sofa. The weed consumes your senses when you take a drag, hitting the back of your throat and dulling your thoughts.

“Haven’t smoked in ages,” you say.

“Big smoking community out in Colorado?” JJ asks.

You laugh. “Not where I live, no.”

He takes the joint back when you lean over to him. Tilts his head back as he takes another hit. He’s in the same clothes as earlier, hasn’t even taken off his boots; his hair is tousled like he tried to sleep but couldn’t. You’re caught in the act of staring at him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a joke. Instead, he holds your gaze. It’s almost like a silent challenge: who’ll break first?

“Can I say something kinda inappropriate?” he asks.

“I feel like you have to, now.”

JJ grins at that, amused. “You’re way cuter than I remember you.”

“Oh? You mean sweaty thirteen-year-old, chalk-highlight-pink-hair wasn’t cute?” you joke.

Shaking his head, he adds, “No. Well, yeah, but not in the way you are now.”

Your stomach tightens and heart constricts, and you wish you had the joint to have something to distract yourself with. You hope you sound calm and collected when you say, “thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” JJ jokes. He takes another long, deep drag. “Is it nice? Being back in Kildare?”

You glance off to the marsh. You forgot to check the time when you got up but judging from the endless navy blue of the sky, it’s still late.

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

You look back to him. “It’s better than Colorado.”

“So, you’re not missing home then?”

The blunt is passed back to you. Taking a drag, you ponder his question. “I don’t think I know where home is right now. I don’t think it’s Colorado, but I don’t know if it’s here either. Maybe I don’t have one.”

JJ doesn’t say anything and you remember yourself. Laughing self-deprecatingly, you shake your head.

“Sorry, think this joint’s going to my head. That was dramatic.”

“No, no, I get ya,” JJ assures. “I know what you mean.”

“You don’t like Kildare?” you ask him.

His expression darkens like a shadow has cast over him. “It depends.”

“Hm,” you say. Nothing more is said on the matter. You get the sense that JJ was vague on purpose.

Pulling your legs into your seat, you glance around at the clutter on the porch. A surfboard is lent against the nett lining of the porch; a rusting duck ornament balances on one of the beams. What looks to be a broken radio sits beside a half-full bottle of rum on a small table by the couch.

“I think it’s good for John B, having you back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” JJ smiles. “He sorta spun out when his dad disappeared. You’re kinda the only family he has left.”

“You’re his family too. Been around longer than I have,” you tell him.

JJ’s smile softens. He glances away from you, fiddling with the paper of the joint, almost as if he’s flustered. “Thanks.”

“So,” you say, “you got some poor girl on this island falling after you?”

“Rude of you to assume there’s only one,” JJ grins wickedly.

You roll your eyes.

“What about you? Some West Coast jock waiting for you back in the home state?”

The sarcastic ‘har har’ that he gets has JJ frowning, bemused.

“Definitely no guy, and definitely no jock.”

“Now that I find hard to believe,” JJ says.

Before you can ask what he means by that, or spiral out by thinking too much about it, JJ’s getting to his feet. He puts the blunt out on the window ledge, ditching the empty butt in a filthy dish. Stretching his arms over his head, sighing, you watch as his t-shirt rides up. The tensing of his abdominal muscles is like torture. God, to run your hands up his chest, over his shoulders, tangle them in the salt-soaked strands of his hair…

“Right, night Little Routledge,” JJ says.

You blink away from his chest and meet his gaze. There’s a strange expression on his face, one you don’t recognise, and you want to scrutinise it and find out what it means. But it’s gone in a flash, as is he as he heads back into the house. You watch through the window as his silhouette drops onto the pull-out sofa.

It takes a minute to regain your composure.

You can’t think of JJ like that. He certainly doesn’t think of you like that, and that childhood crush has long been put to bed. Shaking it awake is the last thing you need right now. Besides, he’s John B’s best friend. Your brother’s best friend. The same brother who’s taken you back into his house, offered you a room, free of charge, without complaint or question. And it seems like John B needs as many people around him as possible right now. But it’s hard to maintain that line of thought, when as you lie back down in your bed, desperate to get some sleep, you can vividly picture the slit of JJ’s chest that you were privy to just moments ago when you close your eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You follow Tom through the restaurant. He’s the supervisor, eighteen and a fresh high school graduate. It’s hard to keep up with him as he points things out: waiter’s station; kitchen; storeroom…You’d forgotten how overwhelming job orientations can be.

“And this,” he pushes a door open, “is the staff room.”

You glance in and take in the messy pile of shoes, the overflowing trash can, and the three coat pegs overwhelmed with bags and hoodies.

“Love what you’ve done with the space.”

Tom laughs. He closes the door and leans against the doorframe. Broad shouldered, he stands taller than you by a couple inches.

“So, what made you want to work here?”

“I’m really interested in not being broke,” you reply, making him laugh.

“You new to the island? Feel like I haven’t seen you around?”

“This island that small?”

“Or you’re just that unforgettable,” he smoothly returns.

Your face fires up. Laughing nervously, you shift your stance. “I just moved in with my half-brother for the summer. Need something to keep me busy for a few months.”

“Ah, sweet. Anyone I’d know?”

“Dunno,” you say. He starts back into the main restaurant building. They haven’t opened yet. It’s void of life. “John B Routledge?”

“Oh shit, yeah. JB,” he says, flashing you a grin.

He’s charming in a disarming way. The kind of face that a modelling agency would swipe up because of his easy marketability.

When the two of you approach the bar, there’s a girl stood polishing wine glasses. She looks to be about your age, maybe a couple of years older. Her smile is sweet and welcoming like warm hot chocolate on a winter’s night.

“Hey, Lizzy. This is the new starter,” Tom introduces.

“I’m guessing I got the job then?” you ask him. He nods. With that, you offer a hand to Lizzy.

“Nice to meet ya,” she says, shaking it. “Could do with more girls around here.”

“Happy to help,” you reply.

“So, you think you can cover a shift tomorrow night? I figured cause you’ve waitressed before it shouldn’t take too long for you to learn the ropes here,” Tom says.

You nod. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says.

You bid farewell to himself and Lizzy, seeing yourself out the front door. The restaurant is in the heart of the cut, surrounded by other small businesses and hipster start-ups. You begin the journey home, plugging in your headphones and submerging yourself in Reggae music. Children play in the local park and preteens chatter as they speed past you on their bikes. There’s a warm breeze that brushes past you; it smells of sea water and fried fish. You’re passing the harbour. Eyes land on Heyward’s store, the logo just as you remember it from all those years ago. It’s surreal being back.

When your phone buzzes, you pause your sightseeing to check it. It might be John B asking after the interview. Your throat closes up when you see your mom’s contact pop up. A text. ‘Call me back.’

Just like that, you’re dragged out of Kildare and are back in Colorado.

It’s impossible to ignore the text, but you do your best either way. You don’t even remember half the journey to the Chateau as you walk through the door. JJ is home. He’s sat at the messy dining table, eating a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. Tugging out your earbuds, you give a small wave hello.

“How’d the interview go? That was today, right?”

“Smashed it. Got the job,” you say.

“Oh, sweet. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

You ditch your bag by the door along with your phone. Taking the seat opposite him, you sit cross-legged on the wooden chair. The sketchbook you’d abandoned earlier lays dormant. Opening it up, you flick to your latest piece of the marsh. It’s coming together rather well. You’d decided to add the H.M.S Pogue, sat harboured on the grass. JJ peers over his bowl to the painting.

“Holy shit. That’s sick,” he says through his mouthful of Captain Crunch.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’m pretty happy with how it’s come out, considering how old these paints are.”

JJ watches as you crack open the aforementioned watercolours. The smell of artificial paint teases the air. Dampening a thin brush in the mason jar of water, you dip into the blue.

“They bad quality or something?”

“A little. They best ones are Winsor and Newton, but I can’t justify spending over twenty bucks on paints.”

“Why not? You’ve clearly got a gift,” JJ says.

You hate how casual he is when he says things like that to you. Like it doesn’t knock the breath out of you like a sucker punch to the chest.

“S’just practice,” you mumble.

You can feel his gaze as you paint. Resting your chin in your hand, you work at the water under the jetty, trying to perfect the shading. You want to feel as though you can walk into the painting; like you could drown in the crystal clean waves.

Painting had become an escape when you were in Colorado. Whatever you could remember of Kildare, you’d paint. When that well ran dry, you began to paint places you wished you could go. Anywhere but the dilapidating family home you’d found yourself in. Secret gardens made of twisting ivy and crumbling, ornate statues hidden amongst orchids and rose bushes. Cosmic planes with make-believe ice cream stations snuck onto Mars and Venus; whales which bathed in the stars and caught a tan in moonbeams. Underwater societies full of sea kelp and multicoloured coral reefs, with octopi hiding amongst crabs and shellfish.

You glance up to find JJ transfixed on the painting. There’s a crease between his brows as if he’s the one concentrating. It makes you laugh, quiet and under breath, and he looks up. Holds your stare.

“That’s amazing, that you can just do that,” JJ says, remarking to your work.

You swallow the sickly rush that his words give you. His tongue dampens his lower lip, tantalisingly slow. You feel it hit somewhere deep inside of you. Something in the air shifts.

Then, so quiet neither of you can be sure he really said it, he utters, “you’re amazing.”

“Yo!”

The door swings open with your brother’s arrival. Your head spins over your shoulder to the front door. John B stands holding a bag of takeout burgers in the air beside his head.

“Y’all hungry?”

“Hell yeah,” JJ says.

When you look to him, it feels as if you could have imagined the whole interaction had just moments ago. JJ’s sat in his seat as he was before, unfazed.

He abandons his cereal and follows John B into the kitchen like a starving dog, begging for food. You place your paintbrush back into the water and join them. John B unpacks the burgers and fries onto half-clean plates. You watch JJ toss a fry into the air and catch it, whooping in celebration. A plate is handed back to you, over John B’s shoulder.

“Beef burger with cheese, no pickles.”

“Thank you,” you sing-song, taking the plate off him.

JJ turns around and looks at you with faux disgust. “No pickles?”

You shake your head, heading back to the table. JJ and John B join you with their own quick dinners, and the three of you eat. You tell John B about the summer job you secured, and he tells you and JJ about Sarah Cameron and her new boy-toy Topper. JJ says he’s “biceps without a brain” when you ask which one Topper is.

“That can’t be his real name,” you snort.

“Oh, it is,” John B replies.

“His name is almost as dumb as he is,” JJ sniggers.

There’s the sound of chewing and swallowing.

“Two official weeks into summer,” John B randomly announces.

You quirk a brow. “Two weeks since I came back to Kildare.”

JJ holds his cup of soda up in a toast. John B wipes his mouth and raises his own, as do you. The three of you clink cups, smiling at the stupidity. As you bring your cup to your lips to drink, you find your eyes meeting JJ’s across the table. He holds your gaze as he sips, swallows and licks his lips of the sugar. You feel it hit somewhere deep, deep inside of you. JJ looks back to John B and starts recounting his tales of the day fishing, leaving you stumped.

What the hell was that?

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As your days in Kildare stretch on, your imagination becomes your most loved and loathed place all at once.

The Pogues had taken you under their wing without a second thought. It felt as if it wasn’t just because you were John B’s younger sister. Kiara would spend hours talking to you about music and star signs. Pope would discuss books and artists that he’d read about, falling into a huge debate about whether Andy Warhol is as legendary as everyone makes him out to be (the answer is, of course, yes). You and John B connected as brother and sister, filling that hole of ‘family’ that had been taken from both of you within the past year. Movie nights sharing popcorn and critiquing corny horror films, and mornings spent tending to the yard and fishing at the jetty: you felt yourself coming back bit by bit, in the company of the brunette.

But spending time with the Pogues came with spending more time with JJ. That little childhood crush that you’d claimed had succumb a long, undisturbed slumber…Oh, she had been awoken. Him staying over more and more on the pull-out when him and his dad ‘got into a thing’ meant the throw pillows smelt like his cologne and soap. He’d offer you his sweatshirt when sat around the bonfire on evenings drinking, and the warm distinct smell of him would consume you, drown you in the pheromones, affecting you like some pathetic animal in heat. Days spent surfing and sunbathing at the break gave you space to shamelessly ogle his bare chest, splattered in sea water, scorched and tanned with sunlight. The ripple of his lats when wearing his useless muscle tees as he waxed his board in the surf shack. His jawline strong and steely when annoyed or focused, with faint blonde stubble a week after shaving. But you swear he knew how it affected you. Swear he knew it drove you crazy whenever he’d fleetingly touch your back, brushing past you in the kitchen to grab a drink, or adjust your grip when helping him fix up his bike. When sharing a blunt on the porch (as you often did when sleep couldn’t come), he’d take his time passing it to you, fingers brushing. Innocent, incidental touches that felt calculated and planned. The way his eyes would gaze into yours, like he could read your thoughts and decipher your wants. A vague, barely-there smirk to his lips, constantly tortured by his tongue and teeth…

God, your whole body feels as if it has been on fire for the past week.

You blame your overactive thoughts of JJ on your boredom. Working at the restaurant hadn’t been sufficient distraction from the mess that is your life right now. Even now, as you stand before the till, typing through an order for the kitchen and bar, you feel your mind wandering. To thoughts of the Chateau, and to a certain blonde-haired guy sprawled on the pull-out sofa, shirtless, back on proud display…

“You gonna be much longer?”

“No, I shouldn’t be,” you say to Tom.

You hope your embarrassment doesn’t read on your face. It’s not as if he could hear your thoughts, so you’re not sure why you feel caught in the act. You finish selecting the sides for table 16 and press ‘store table’. Stepping to the side to grab some side plates, Tom takes over the till.

He’s nice. Makes you laugh a lot at work, as you slander rude tables and gush over those that tip an extra twenty.

After depositing the side plates at the table, you head to the bar to run the drinks you put through. Lizzy is mixing the cocktail you ordered. She pours rum into a shaker and then passionfruit puree.

“Can I ask you something?” you say to her.

She glances over. The two of you had gotten closer at work. You were hoping to hang out with her one time down at the beach, or maybe grab lunch after a morning shift. She runs a hand over her buzzcut hair style and nods.

“Do you think there’s such a thing as bad thoughts?”

“Bit deep to be asking that at eight o’clock at night, don’t you think?” she smirks.

You roll your eyes. As she goes on making the cocktail, you elaborate. “I have this dumbass crush on this guy which I know I shouldn’t have…I just feel bad for thinking about him so much.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” she snorts.

There’s the loud rattle of ice against stainless steel as Lizzy shakes the cocktail. Then, as she strains it into a martini glass, she looks up at you once more.    

“Who’s this guy? Do I know him?”

“Maybe.”

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Is it Tom?”

And, no, it isn’t Tom, but maybe saying it is means she won’t keep digging. You’d rather keep your embarrassing years-long infatuation with your brother’s best friend close to the chest. So, you do your best to look meek as you nod.

“Holy shit! Well, if it makes you feel better, he’s totally into you,” Lizzy tells you.

“He is?”

“Hell yeah. Guy practically ogles you across the room,” she says.

You glance over to Tom. He’s stood before a table, talking away, scribbling down their order on a notepad. At the feeling of being watched, he looks up and meets your gaze. You flash him a small smile and he mirrors it quickly before returning his focus to the task at hand.

“So, do you?”

“Think there’s such a thing as bad thoughts?” Lizzy checks. You nod. She ponders the question whilst garnishing the cocktail. “No. No, I think only actions talk. I mean, I think bad things all the time about customers who are dicks. I could put glass in their drinks: that’d show them sort of thing. But I don’t actually put glass in their drinks, so I’m off the hook. Nobody’s the wiser.”

It’s a somewhat extreme example but it gets the point across. You take the tray and nod.

“I mean, maybe fantasising about it might be cathartic. Get it out your system, you know?” Her sly wink speaks volumes as to what these ‘fantasies’ are about. You roll your eyes.

“Thank you for your advice, Lizz. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Anytime sunshine.”

With that, you walk over table 16 and deliver their drinks. The rest of the shift passes by rather quickly. You end up making a bet with Tom that you can sell more pints of larger than him and come up victorious, leaving work with an extra ten dollars in your pockets.

The streets are painted sunset purple, orange and pink. You spot John B’s campervan, known as The Twinkie, in the parking lot; he’d promised to pick you up after work tonight. But as you walk up to the passenger side, you realise it’s JJ behind the wheel. You’re not sure if the feeling of your organs shrinking is a good thing or a bad thing.

“Where’s John B?” you ask, climbing in beside him.

“Nice way to say, ‘hi JJ, it’s so good to see you!’”

“Okay, hi JJ,” you say, rolling your eyes. He starts the engine. “Now, where’s my brother?”

“He had to go do something for Cameron.”

“At ten at night?”

“Dude, I just work here, a’right? I do as he says so he lets me stay on his sofa,” JJ says. You laugh.

The radio kicks on and ‘Downtown Lights’ starts to play. You look out the window as he drives, watching the houses fade into overgrow and trees.

“Hey, you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“We can swing by a Wendy’s on the way home, if you wanna,” JJ says.

You smile as you look over to him, nodding. With that, he takes the next left and the two of you make your way in comfortable silence to the drive through. At the worker’s request, JJ recounts his order: two hamburgers, both with cheese, one without pickles. Oh and a large Pepsi.

As he pulls forward to pay, you say, “you remembered I don’t like pickles?”

He glances over to you like you’re stupid for even asking. “Course.”

Food secured, Pepsi in the cupholder for you both to share, you start the journey to the Chateau.

“Feed me a fry?”

You laugh and oblige. It’s the least you can do, considering he bought you takeout, after all. You turf one out the brown paper bag and hold up to his lips. His breath fans against your fingers as he takes it. Chews and swallows. You managed to tear your eyes away. That man could yawn and you’d be mesmerised, you swear. It’s pathetic.

“Thanks.”

“Course.”

The ride back is over way too soon. You take what’s left of your food and your bag, opening the door. “You staying over tonight?”

JJ contemplates a moment before shaking his head. He studies his hands as they run up and over the steering wheel when he says, “no. No, I gotta go home sometime.”

“Right,” you quietly say. The last fight him and his dad got in was ugly. He came over, shaking with anger, a purple bruise forming under his eye. It scared the shit out of you to let him go back there alone. “Well, thanks for the food.”

JJ looks up from the steering wheel and takes you in. His lips move, like he wants to say something, but he seems to abandon the thought. You take it as your cue to leave.

“See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you soon, Little Routledge.”

You hate that nickname. The resentment is thick to swallow as you say goodnight, stepping out the van.

John B isn’t home when you walk into the Chateau. The lights are off, dirty dishes piled up in the sink. The sofa bed is unmade from the last time JJ slept on it. You contemplate crashing on it for the night, just so you can feel as if you’re near to him, but you know that’s insane. If John B were to find you there, he’d only be concerned that something was wrong with your own room, either way. So you trundle back to your bedroom and strip out of your uniform. Makeup rinsed off and teeth brushed, you crawl into bed and drift off easily.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

His lips are hot and wet on your skin, kissing down your stomach. Your breathing’s laboured like you’re fighting an adrenaline rush. He seems to notice, laughing darkly against your tummy.

“So wound up already and I’ve barely touched you,” JJ croons in his southern drawl.

Your eyes slip shut, fighting back a whimper as his fingers dip teasingly into the waistband of your panties. A moan finally lets slip at the sensation of his lips pressing against your crotch, over the cotton.

“You want it?”

“Please,” you whisper.

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

“Yes, JJ, please.”

It’s embarrassing to beg but you don’t have much left in your mind other than thoughts of him to even care.

Fingers knotting into his hair, you try and coax him lower still. And he obliges. Drags your panties down your legs like time is a luxury. You wonder if he likes teasing you; if it brings him pleasure like the feeling of his hands on your body does for you. He leans back on his haunches and runs his palms up and down your thighs, staring at you exposed pussy. His shark tooth necklace sits against his toned chest and you’re jealous of how close it gets to be to him.

“Fuck,” JJ groans as you open your legs.

He leans back down and nuzzles your inner thigh, pressing a sharp kiss with his teeth, sucking in the skin and relishing your pleasured yelp. It feels as if he’s marking you as he leaves the hickey: mine.

“Been dreaming ‘bout this.”

Before you can let out another pathetic plea, JJ situates himself between your legs and goes down on you. Eats you out like a man who’s been lost at sea, like a man starved. Sighs at the taste of you on his tongue, kissing at your thighs as if to catch his breath, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. The damp of his tongue laps at your clit and your legs lock around him in a vice. He’s indefatigable, insatiable and…it’s too much.

“I can’t,” you whine hopelessly. Your fingers grasp at the sheets, eyes clenched shut.

“Come on,” JJ preens. “Wanna see you come.”

He leans close to your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth, and slips a finger into your seeping hole. Your orgasm comes like waves crashing over splintered rocks; breathing jagged and vision blurring behind eyelids. Somewhere in the euphoric haze you cry out his name. Flashes of colour blending into a mercurial high as he works you through your ecstasy, unrelenting.

You gasp awake.

Had you been sleeping?

Your forehead is damp with sweat, throat parched and chest heaving. Anyone would have thought you’d have just sprinted three miles. When you sit up in bed, you register the pulsing between your legs and the telltale stickiness of your thighs.

Shit. Good thing there’s no such thing as bad thoughts.

Wiping at your face, your skin feels red hot. You venture to the bathroom and drink water from the faucet. Making eye contact with yourself is too hard right now, considering you just had the most incredible wet dream about your brother’s best friend. Now that the high is passing, you’re overcome with shame and guilt. You’re delusional. Maybe you should submit yourself to be sectioned. Would be a good way to kill some of these summer weeks…

Heading back to bed feels like returning to the scene of a crime. Instead, you head out onto the porch, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. John B’s a deep sleeper, you’ve come to learn. You’ve never heard him get up in the night, in all your moments of insomnia. There’s no risk of crossing paths with him out here.

Stepping out onto the paint-peeled floorboards, you notice he forgot to turn off the porch light when he came home. Great, I guess I know where my wage is going. But as you head to your favourite red armchair, ready to gaze out at the marsh and watch the waterside plants dance in the breeze, you freeze.

JJ’s on the sofa. And he’s awake. You can tell just from where you’re stood.

Before you can flee back to your room, the floorboard creaks. JJ jolts up and looks around, eyes landing on you. You swallow. The moment you lay eyes on him, part of your dream comes screaming back to you. The way your voice cracked as you cried out his name, tumbling over the edge. You quickly shun away the thoughts, slamming them closed in a box, before your body can lose itself to the fantasy once more. Please God tell me that I didn’t actually scream his name.

“Hi,” you dumbly say.

“Hey.”

“I thought you were staying at your place tonight,” you say.

JJ shrugs. “Change of plans, I guess.”

“Oh.”

He looks back ahead at the armchair, back to you, and you can’t help but pull a face akin to holy shit what the fuck do I do? When he holds up a joint, you decide to stay. Panties are just the same as a bikini anyway, and he’s seen you in those. You make sure to wear your cutest ones when he’s surfing with you. The ones that are tight in all the right places and hug your figure in a way that you wished he would. Oh my God, shut up. You wordlessly take the joint as you quickly step past him, planting yourself in the armchair. You pull your legs up and sit atop of them, taking a long drag to try and calm your racing mind and heart. Inspecting the floor seems a good thing to do, suddenly. The divots in the wood from worms and the strips of paint. Looking up, you find JJ’s eyes trained on your legs. His gaze diverts when you lean forward, offering him the blunt again. As he lifts himself to take it, you see him wince, and now in the light of the porch, fully taking him in you, you can make out the bloody cut beside his eye.

“Jesus Christ, JayJ.”

“It’s fine,” he reflexively says. He takes another hit. “Just need some self-medication.”

“Bullshit. You need to clean that thing ‘fore it gets infected.”

“Be my guest,” JJ scoffs.

With that, you get to your feet and head back into the house. The first aid kit is under the bathroom sink. It’s probably the least dusty thing in the whole room. Returning to him, you forget all about the reason that you got up in the first place and shove it to the back of your mind. This was more important than worrying about some dumb dream. Shoving his legs off the couch, you force him to make space for you. You place the first aid kit on your lap and open it. JJ keeps smoking. The smell of weed clouds your senses. Picking out a disinfectant wipe, you turn to him.

“This’ll sting,” you say, opening the packet.

“That’s what she said.”

You frown. “What kind of kinky ass sex are you having?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he grins.

For a moment dread drops down your body, chilling your spine. Did he hear you? No, no he couldn’t have. You probably didn’t make a noise. He’s just being his usual, salacious self.

You take his jawline in hold gently between your fingers. The bone is hard beneath the soft of his skin; fine stubble scratches your fingertips. Leaning up, you try not to get distracted in his eyes as you dab at the cut. You apologise as he hisses. It doesn’t look as intimidating when clean of blood, which is more than a relief. You dip back into the first aid kit and offer up two band aids. One is plain nude and the other Hello Kitty.

“Take your pick.”

He rolls his eyes with a small smile and grabs the Hello Kitty one, holding it out to you. You shift onto your knees, bending over him to plant it over his cut. You notice a bruise forming on his cheek bone on the other side, and a cut lip. You should have insisted he stayed over when he dropped you off. He looks up, as if he can hear your thoughts, and meets your gaze. You can’t seem to find it in yourself to move away.

“It’s not your fault,” he quietly says.

You swallow. It’s scary how easy he can read you. Makes you worry what other thoughts he can tell from your face. “Wished you just stayed here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hate the thought of you going back to that house.”

“That’s sweet,” he smiles. “But if I didn’t go, I wouldn’t have you here taking care of me.”

“Oh, was it all part of your masterplan?” you joke, finding your smile again. His seems to grow at the sight.

“Something like that.”

When his lips press to yours, you’re taken aback. It feels like fire, searing hot, and you flinch like you’ve been burnt. You gape at him, wide eyed, and it seems to register what he’s just done. You both move to put as much space between you as possible, as if trying to keep the blaze from spreading.

“Shit, I—”

“I should go back to bed,” you hurry out.

JJ nods. “Yeah, yeah. Course.”

In your scramble to get back to your feet and back in your room, the first aid kit falls to the floor, the contents spilling out. You cuss and drop to your knees, rushing to retrieve all the clutter. JJ joins you, passing you gloves and bandages. You find some nerve to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says. The sincerity in his voice…It’s painful.

“It’s okay. I don’t…It isn’t…”

You sigh. Your speech is just as messed as your mind. Closing your eyes, gathering your words, you take a deep breath. Looking back to JJ, you shake your head.

“We can’t.”

“I know,” he replies, almost sadly. Nods once more. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…high. And tired.”

“Right. Course.”

And whilst his excuses should sting, they don’t, because you don’t believe them. JJ smokes enough weed to not be affected all that much by half a joint. But you don’t argue. Instead, you close the box and go to head inside. You stop in the doorway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say.

You spare him one last glance. He’s on the floor, head hung and back to you, and you consider staying. But you don’t. You go straight to bed, acting as if a fresh start tomorrow will reset the entire thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the morning, JJ’s gone. John B doesn’t seem to have even realised he’d stayed over. You find your older brother in the kitchen, washing up the dirty dishes. Swiping up a towel, you come to help.

“Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “You?”

“Like a rock,” he grins. “You still up for that keggar tonight, at the boneyard?”

“Oh shit, that’s tonight?”

“Yeah. All the others are going,” John B says.

“Yeah, I’ll go. I think I’m catching a ride with Lizzy from work.”

“Alright. Just stay safe.”

“I will,” you drawl. He smiles at you before turning back to the washing up. “Hey, John B?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For letting me stay here.”

“Yeah, course,” he says. He pauses his handy work, turning his attention to you. “You’ve always got a bed to crash on here, even if child services are up my ass.”

“I appreciate it. I really needed to get out of Colorado.”

The seven missed calls from your mom slip into your mind. Her texts go unanswered, but she knows you read them. You don’t want her to think you’re in danger. Talking to her is just too much right now.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I needed you back too,” he says. “Things have been kinda messy since my dad…disappeared. I don’t know what I’d do if I was on my own.”

“You’re never gonna be on your own, though,” you smile. “The Pogues would do anything for you. It’s actually kinda scary.”

John B laughs at that. “Yeah, yeah, they’re, uh, not the smartest.”

“Apart from Pope,” you point out. He nods, smiling as he looks back to the soapy water.

“Yeah, apart from Pope.”

“JJ cares about you a lot,” you feel the need to add. His voice last night, apology ready, after your kiss, echoes in your mind.

“I know. I feel like you two are the best things in my life right now,” John B admits. The guilt multiples by tenfold with that. You fix your face when he looks to you. “So, thanks.”

“No worries, big bro,” you reply, nudging his shoulder with yours.

He laughs. “Thanks, little sis.”

With that, you both continue cleaning the pots. The shame from last night gets shoved down into the deepest, darkest pit of your stomach, and you try to go about your day without sparing another thought to JJ.

On the way to the keggar, Lizzy grills you about your ‘crush’ on Tom. “He’s gonna be there tonight, I think.”

“Oh, really?” you say. You know you don’t sound enthused. It’s too much effort to pretend.

“Everything good?” she frowns, glancing away from the road.

You nod and plaster on a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just tired, I think.”

“Couple drinks in you and you’ll be wide awake, I promise,” she assures.

Nodding, you shift in your seat and look out the window. Your skirt rides up in the processes. It’s a little short but it’s so ridiculously hot tonight, you can’t seem to care. A crotchet style crop-top dresses down the outfit. You don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard for a beachside keggar. As you pull up closer to the boneyard, cars line the roads. Lizzy finds a spot and parks. You grab the crate of Budlight and her the box of White Claw, and you hop out the car towards the beach. Her stories about work and school have brightened your mood.

She’s tall and remarkably cool in a way that you never will be. She has stick and poke tattoos on her knees and elbows, and nine piercings on one ear. Her nose ring and snake bite piercings are far from intimidating on her cherub like features. The buzzcut has been dyed neon blue, standing bright against her dark skin. As you pass groups of teens, she shouts hello to those she recognises and shares the odd bro-hug.

You add your drinks to the pile of booze before grabbing a can, cracking it open. A quick scan of the scene tells you that the Pogues are still pre-drinking at the Chateau. You’d managed to dodge JJ so far.

“This is a pretty decent turn out,” Lizzy tells you, swigging from her can.

“Know a lot of people here?”

“Sure,” she says. She points to a gaggle of polo-shirt wearing pretty boys who look like they could snap you with one finger. “Those are the gym rat kooks. That tall blonde Topper is with the princess of Figure Eight, Sarah Cameron.”

JJ was right: biceps without a brain. You watch as he shotguns a drink and cracks the can on his forehead. Sarah Cameron, blonde hair straight flowing down her back, does not look impressed.

“And her brother Rafe. That guy’s all kinds of whacked out,” Lizzy mutters. You follow her finger to spot a tall, short haired guy. He looks unapproachable, even from far away.

“Yo Lizzy!”

You both turn to find a crowd of girls and guys. One of them is waving at Lizzy and she waves back.

“Come on, I know these guys. They’re cool,” she tells you, taking your hand and guiding you over.

You’re introduced to everyone and soon enough are roped into beer pong and shots. It’s fun though. Everyone’s having a laugh, cheering each other on. You hear about some good spots to grab food and learn Michael, Lizzy’s closest friend, can drink you under the table. A few hours in and there’s a comfortable buzz to your bones. You haven’t thought about the Pogues, or JJ, or the fleeting kiss all night. As you laugh along to one of Michael’s soccer stories, someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around to come face to face with Tom.

“Hey,” you smile, squiffy.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Yeah, I came with Lizzy.”

“Hey, Tom,” she smiles before sending you a more than suggestive look. Oh, shit. The lie. “Hey, why don’t you go get my girl a top up?”

Before you can contest, she’s taking your half full can out of your hand and coaxing you away with an assuring smile. Tom takes it in stride and walks with you to the coolers. He grabs two cans of beer, passing one to you, and you cheers him.

“How you finding Kildare?”

“Good.”

“Yeah? You been hanging with John B’s crowd, right?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” you smile, nodding. He makes a face before taking a drink. You frown. “What?”

“Nah, nothing. They’re just kinda…well, I mean, some people think they’re bad news.”

“Some people, huh?” you say cautiously.

“Just reputations and all that. Like that JJ guy. He’s got slippery fingers, if you know what I mean,” Tom says, wiggling his own in demonstration.

Suddenly this conversation is very unappealing. You glance off to Lizzy and the others. “I should probably get back to them. Thanks for the drink, though.”

“No, hey, no,” Tom says. He grabs you by the wrist. “Come on, I was being a dick. I’ve had one too many. Let’s just hang, alright? I really wanna get to know you.”

You look between him and Lizzy and sigh. Taking a swig, you shrug. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tick you off.”

“I like the Pogues. They’re a good group,” you feel the need to defend.

“No, yeah, they are!” Tom agrees. You can smell the stench of liquor on his breath. “I just don’t want you to get corrupted by them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just, you’re new here—”

“And so I’m clueless on how to judge people?” you finish sardonically.

Tom rolls his eyes and it makes your anger tick. “Come on, you don’t gotta be a bitch about this.”

“What did you just call me? You know what? Forget it,” you scoff, snatching your arm away from his hold. “Have fun drinking on your own.”

But you don’t get very far before he’s grabbing at you again. “Calm down, would you? Just gimme—”

“Let go!” you demand.

His grip only tightens. The strong front you’re putting on begins to crumble under the panic of this guy is way bigger than me.

“Just quit bitching and we can talk,” he says harshly.

“I don’t want to talk. Now please let go of me,” you firmly return.

He doesn’t let go. Keeps chattering away, insisting that you have to hear him out.

“Let go, Tom!”

“Everything good here?”

Your wide eyes look away from Tom and land on JJ, and your whole body relaxes. He’s looking at you and the panic must read clear on your face because his demeanour changes in a split second. Jaw tight, he turns to Tom.

“I think you should let go, man.”

“You think I’m gonna listen to you?” Tom scoffs.

JJ takes another step towards him. He towers over Tom by enough to be intimidating. “Think you should listen to her.”

“Oh, I get it,” Tom snarls. He lets go of you and you can feel your skin breathing. You rub at the pink marks, easing the sting. Tom gets into JJ’s face, undeterred from a fight. “You wanna keep John B’s sloppy sister for yourself, huh?”

JJ’s fist flies at Tom’s face, making an ugly, visceral sound as it lands on his left cheek. You gasp. Nearly knocked off balance, Tom stumbles on the sand. The commotion has drawn in somewhat of a crowd. Before you can intervene, Tom’s throwing hands. He aims an upper cut to JJ’s jaw but he’s quick to dodge, landing his own punch instead by Tom’s eyebrow. That one seems to deter him. He trips backwards. The chanting of the crowds egging it on makes you feel sick. You’d just finished patching JJ up last night, and you’ve seen his anger before. It takes control quickly and blinds him to reason. The last thing he needs is to wind up in a cell. So, before he can land another hit, you’re stepping forward and grabbing at his arm, stopping him.

“Come on, let’s just go,” you say pleadingly.

His chest is heaving with anger, breathing short and jaw heavy set and tense. He hesitates, looking between yourself and Tom. He’s still cradling his last hit, trying to regain his composure. Sighing, JJ lets you lead him away. Tom’s heckling is laced with slurs directed at you, and you have to keep a steady grip on JJ to keep him from going back.

“He’s not worth it, JayJ,” you mutter.

“You’re so wrong,” JJ darkly returns, but he doesn’t go back.

Away from the beach, back on the road, you let go. He paces for a moment, trying to calm himself. Tugs off his cap and rakes his fingers through his hair, breathing deep and slow. You don’t speak: just let him go through the motions. Babying him through this isn’t going to help anyone.

Whilst violence isn’t the answer to anything, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grateful for JJ’s help.

Letting him cool off, you take a seat on one of the fallen tree trunks.

“Hey.”

Looking up, JJ walks over. He’s mostly back to himself.

“You okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No. Just freaked me out a bit. He’s not usually like that. He’s just drunk.”

“Like that’s an excuse,” JJ scoffs. He takes the spot next to you, sitting worryingly close.

The culmination of last night and tonight makes your head spin. The effects of the alcohol vanished the moment Tom took a hold of you. Now you just want to forget the whole thing.

“Wanna get out of here?” JJ asks.

You turn your head to face him and smile smally, nodding.

“Come on. I brought my bike.”

His red bike is parked beside the Twinkie. He climbs on first and offers a hand to help you onto the back. Your arms slot around his middle, circling around his taught chest, pressing yourself against him. Face resting on the middle of his back, you try not to inhale the smell of him. It might be too much for tonight. His calloused hands on yours have you shifting your hold, ensuring your tight against him like a backpack.

“Good?”

“Good,” you quietly reply.

He kicks off the stand and starts up the engine. You pull away from the keggar and up the road, zipping down the isolated streets. There’s nobody around at this time. Not a soul in sight. It feels so right, wrapped up against him like this, safe in his presence. Tom was wrong: JJ wasn’t bad news. Sure, he was a klepto, but he was the same guy who learnt how to sew to fix your favourite pair of shorts when you were little. The same guy who stepped up when some dirtbag was harassing you. The same guy who remembered you don’t like pickles on your burgers. Who looked at your paintings as if they were Picasso.

Somewhere along the ride, one of JJ’s hands comes to rest on your own. You don’t ask why and don’t pull away. Just let the reassuring weight of his hand on yours stay there and ground you to him like an anchor. Here, flying through the night, you can pretend like all the other shit doesn’t matter. It’s just you and him.

He starts onto a dirt track, slowing down, and a house emerges. Pastel yellow painted exterior hidden behind porch netting. There’s clutter of engines and fishing gear amongst surfing supplies. He pulls to a stop and kicks on the stand, turning off the engine. It’s quiet now, without its rumble. “Your dad home?” you can’t help but ask, staring at the front door.

JJ shakes his head. “No. He’s out on Friday nights. Kinda the only routine he has.”

You don’t ask where and he doesn’t expand. You step off the bike and watch as he clambers off too. Fixing your skirt, you wait for him to talk. He doesn’t. “I should probably head back,” you say. You’re not entirely sure why you came to his place instead. You’d assumed when you got on the bike that he’d take you back the Chateau.

“I mean, we can share a joint first if you want. Help you calm down and stuff, after that shitshow,” JJ half-chuckles.

There’s something heavy in the humid air. It’s hard to describe, hard to place, but you can feel it like static electricity. You find yourself nodding. He nods too and starts up to the house, hands in his black short pockets. You watch his feet sink into the grass and guide your eyes up his figure. His shoulders are tense, dressed under a thin t-shirt. He ditches his cap on the kitchen counter when you walk through the door. Through the house, past the neglection, and to his bedroom. He flicks on the light and clears his throat as he goes to his desk drawer.

You stand, leaning against his door until it clicks closed, and look around his room. There’s a world map pinned to the wall but no markings on it asides from one: Kildare, North Carolina. Print outs of palm trees and pressed, framed butterflies and leaves seem less innocent when placed between posters of models on the beach. The floor is a mess of dirty clothes and empty beer cans. Several dead vapes litter near the overflowing bin, and cigarette and joint buds scatter the windowsill and beside table. But the smell of JJ hangs strong in the air; it makes you smile to yourself.

“Alright,” JJ sighs. The desk drawer slams closed and he turns around, holding up a fresh joint and lighter. His initials are scratched into the metal: JJ. He sits on the bed and places the blunt between his lips, flicking at his lighter. You watch him take a drag and take it off him when he offers it over.

No words are shared as you pass the bud for several minutes. You both glance around the room, at the floor, at the ceiling, anywhere but each other.

“How’s your face?”

“Huh?” he asks, finally meeting your eyes.

You nod to his cheek. “Your cut from the other night?”

“Oh, right,” he mumbles. He lifts a finger and strokes it absentmindedly. “It’s alright.”

“Good.”

JJ hands you the joint again, you take a drag, you pass it back to him. That same feeling from earlier, when you first climbed off the bike, has only amplified.

“So…”

You brave clearing the distance between you. You take the spot next to him on the bed.

“We gonna talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?” JJ deflects, studying the floor.

“Well, you kissed me,” you eventually reply, taking the joint back. “So, there’s that.”

“I already told you,” he sighs. “I was tired and doped up.”

When you say nothing, he looks up at you. "What? You think I'm lying?"

You take a drag. Shrugging, you honestly reply, “yeah, a little.”

He holds your gaze as if challenging you to back down. You don’t. Beating around the bush won’t help anything here, and its obvious you can’t go back to acting like it didn’t happen. You can’t move past it until you know why he did.

“S’just weird,” JJ mutters, looking away. “What happened last night, with me and you. S’just weird.”

“Yeah, it was weird for me too,” you agree. Swallowing, you take another hit. “But not bad weird, right?”

JJ’s head lifts once more. His eyes flash across your face like he’s searching for some kind of trap. He sucks his teeth in contemplation. “No. Not bad weird.”

Your heart stutters, breathing shaky and unsure. You feel your eyes dart down to his strawberry pink lips, and his to yours. But then he’s shaking his head. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know…” you breathe. You’re transfixed on his lips. Can’t move away, can’t bring yourself too. The blunt in your fingers is burning away, ash dropping to the floor, but you don’t care. All of it, everything but JJ, is white noise.

The moment you flit your eyes up to his, something shifts in him. His jaw ticks as he clenches it. Your brows pull in thought but there’s no time for you to ask.

“Fuck it.”

His lips are on yours within a breadth. He consumes your senses like a drug, dulling down anything else until all your thoughts are on him. He grabs for the blunt in your fingers, haphazardly putting it on the bedside table, and then his hands are sliding up along your sides, up your back, into your hair. One finds purchase on your cheek, and you rest your jaw in his hold like a bird settled in its favourite branch. The way he holds you like you’re something holy is different to how sinful his kiss is. It’s pure passion: raw, animalistic heat from weeks of build-up. And, God, it feels so right. The way his tongue brushes against yours, warm in your mouth, heavy in your head. The nip of his teeth on your lips and the fanning of his breath when he has to break for air. You’ve never been kissed like this before, not by anyone. It’s dizzying.

Until it isn’t, and he’s pulling away. His forehead rests against your own. You’re both panting. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he says.

You slide a hand up his neck, tracing his jawline with your fingers. He practically melts under your touch, eyes slipping shut. “I know,” you whisper distractedly. Your thumb traces his lower lip. It’s swollen from your kisses.

He blinks his eyes open. “I’m serious. He can’t know.”

“He won’t,” you say, going to reconnect your lips.

But JJ stops you. “No, he can’t. He’d…God, he just can’t.”

You want to cry, seeing the moral dilemma weigh on JJ, feeling you share the burden. But the thought of walking away from this, of not feeling every inch of him, of never hearing him fall apart, makes you want to sob.

“Maybe just one time,” you murmur. Your finger traces down his chin, along the centre of his neck. “And we can just get it out of our system.”

“Yeah,” JJ mumbles. “Yeah, one time.”

“Yeah?”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, heavy with lust, and you feel your body ignite. “Touch me, please.”

With that simple mark of consent, JJ’s unchained. He doesn’t hold back when your lips reconnect. Somehow it becomes deeper, rougher, better. It’s such a strange oxymoron, the way he touches you and kisses you. You pull away to remove your crop top, and he takes the moment to strip off his shirt. The two of you are shameless as you take in the other. Reaching out a hand, you run your fingers up his chest in the way that you’ve imagined so many times before. It’s funny how in your head, you’ve already done it. His eyes dip down, watching your hands explore. You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his left pectoral, then his right. Sighing, his chest drops up and down with uneven breathes.

“So pretty,” you say through your kisses.

His fingers tether into your hair. There’s a slight tug that sends ripples of pleasure through your body in ways that it shouldn’t as he pulls you away, guiding your lips back to him. As he crawls atop of you, you inch up the bed, skirt riding up. You settle on our back. JJ’s greedy in his touch. Strokes your skin, explores your body, like it’s his own. And in a way it is because you’d give him anything if he asked. When his fingers slip behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra, you lift yourself onto your elbows. He holds your gaze as he unfastens it, guiding it off your shoulders, helping it off your arms.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

A smile teases at your lips. It takes a certain type of guy to make you blush at the sound of his curses. Your head rocks back, eyes sinking closed, as his lips latch around your nipple. A hand palms at the skin, teasing your breast, exploring your reactions. You sigh out your pleasure, bringing a hand up to mess with his hair. It’s better than you imagined. Tops every fantasy, every wet dream, every sinful thought. And it’s only just begun.

“So fucking sexy,” JJ groans, kissing up your body until he finds your lips.

You don’t want him away from you. He looms over you, encasing you in the safe, consuming feeling of his presence, trapping you in the smell of his cologne and soap that you’ve tried so desperately to avoid. Through the kisses and love bites marked into necks and collarbones, you feel one of his hands ghost the outline of your figure. Traces down so slowly like you might not even notice. Down, down, to your panties. It’s there that he sweeps over your cotton covered mound. You sigh against his lips in anticipation.

“I know you’ve been thinking ‘bout this,” JJ says.

His voice is just as you pictured it: deep and crooning, his Southern accent at forefront. You want to bottle it like brandy and drink it until you black out. His lips work down your neck as he lightly circles your clit over your panties and you can’t stop your moan.

“I heard you, the other night.” Your eyes shoot open. JJ meets your gaze. He’s dying, the desperation clear as day on his face. His eyes themselves could send him straight to hell. There’s the shadow of a smirk.

“Were you thinking of me, whilst you were getting off?”

You go to push him away. The last thing you need is for him to tease you about it and make fun. But he doesn’t let you. Instead, he kisses just below your ear.

“Cause I think about you. Every night since you’ve been back. Can’t jack off to anything else,” he confesses into the crux of your ear. Your only reply is a small, surprised gasp. Your body’s ablaze with his words.

His fingers finally dip below your panties, sliding between your soaking folds. He groans at the sensation and you feel your legs give way. He works at you for a while, toying with you like it’s a side hobby. You’re only half aware of the sounds you make. One of your hands has situated itself on his upper back, nails scratching at the skin. JJ can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. It’s one blasphemy after another, and it drives you deeper and deeper into the abyss. He seems to become impatient. He removes fingers to push your underwear down. You kick them off at the ankles with a small giggle.

The moment his finger sinks into you, you swear you’ve seen heaven. JJ worships you, taking his time to inch you closer and closer to the edge. Another finger, then another. The stretch is heaven. Your back arches off the bed, mouth agape, brain dumb with pleasure. He won’t be quiet. He whispers praises into your ear. Narrates his own fantasies he’s harboured about you. Know you’ve been teasing me with those tiny bikinis. I wish I fucked you on the porch the other night. The moment his thumb swipes over your clit, you know you’re close. And then he’s bending his fingers just slightly, hitting that spot. You abandon all religion: this is the only type of prayer you need.

JJ has the audacity to laugh as you climax. You grasp uselessly at his body, the bedsheets, anything. You use a shaky hand to push his fingers away, overstimulated, and he finally relents. Starts kissing at your neck like a Goddamn vampire.

“That good, huh?”

You can’t really formulate words. You just drag his face to yours, kissing him senseless. When you inevitably part for breath, JJ leans back. He pinches your chin between two fingers, gnawing at his lower lip, and parts your lips for him. Your body pulses at the submissiveness he’s placed you under. Then his used fingers are slipped into your mouth. You close your lips around them, holding his gaze as you suck them clean. The salty distinct taste is unfamiliar but not necessarily unpleasant. He gives a small laugh, like he’s in disbelief.

“Fuck. Why did we wait so long to do this?”

You pull his hand free, taking grip on his shoulders. Pushing him against his bedroom wall, you move to straddle him. His hands fall onto your hips. Somewhere in your heady make-out, you rock yourself back on him. JJ groans; his head knocks back against the wall. He’s rock hard. It must be torture. You shuffle off him to make room to pull his shorts off. They join the mess of clothes on the floor. The tip leaks precum, straining painfully. You go to jack him off but JJ stops you.

“I won’t last,” he admits, half-embarrassed.

You nod, biting back your smile. “You got protection?”

“Top drawer,” he says, nodding to the bedside table.

You lean over and dig about before finding a condom. You come back, tear it open, and gently slide it over him. He lets out a shuddering breath at your touch, eyes clenched shut in concentration. It makes you feel slightly guilty for letting him indulge you for so long, but this will pay it back.

Straddling him once more, you steady yourself with one hand on either shoulder. His find home on your hips once more, and he helps you line up. Then you slowly sink down onto him. The stretch stings despite the earlier efforts. Head hanging forward, mouth falling open in silent moans, eyes clenching shut, you take him in. JJ’s mumbling praises, eyes transfixed on where you connect, spurring you on. Taking me so good. Jus’little more. You rock against him, using whatever energy you have to ride him. He helps guide you, head resting against the wall. You love that he isn’t quiet. Love that you’re on top and can see every ripple of pleasure course through him, reflect on his face. But when his eyes slip shut, you take a hand and guide his face to yours. Pressing your forehead against him, you lean forward and steady yourself with a hand on his chest. The new angle is euphoric. You moan and whine against his lips, eyes staring into his own. It’s the most hideously lewd symphony as the two of you chase your highs. There’s only one thought in your mind. And when JJ comes unannounced, shuddering as he finishes, never looking away from your eyes, only one thought is in your mind.

If it can only happen this once, it has to be perfect...

to be continued (part 2 will be released later this week)

[moxfirefly]

Hey dude! Loving the tmnt stories! 💚Could I request #8 with raph? "I can make you feel better than that pathetic toy" 😈

*wiggles eyebrows* oh boy

Yes, let’s get thiiiiiis

TW of sorts: Consentual vouyerism

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Night time would always be his favorite.

They are nocturnal creatures by demand. Walking around daylight just isn’t an option and for Raphael he doesn’t care. Longing for acceptance took a back seat a long time ago, around the time that you entered his life. All the acceptance he needed was right here, in the shape of you.

Schedules though? Well having a relationship with a human proved tricky in the sense of time structures and human necessities. You have a job, you need to sustain a living and well he beats people up for a living and has a curfew regardless of being in his mid twenties.

But the two of you have your ways. Tricky albeit but still always delightful and fun.

Which is why Raphael finds himself perched on the roof opposite your building, with a fantastic view of your window that led to the bed area. Good paying human job meant, good income and with that you had quite the luxury loft, with some very large windows.

Raph smirked, his phone showed him the time and around now as the sun fully set and the cover of darkness was on his side, he knew you would be home soon. Right on the nose you entered the apartment at 6:15pm.

He watched you dump you belongings by the door, kicking off your shoes before making your way to the kitchen area. Even from a distance his vision allowed him to make out little details he loved. You have a particular way of standing, switching your weight from hip to hip, a tendency to push away your hair with a sigh. In your most natural state, unbeknownst to his gaze you always looked beautiful.

The picture of perfection.

Your phone in your hand he saw you type something before leaving it on the kitchen counter and move towards the bathroom area (which to his dismay was much more private.)

In mear seconds his phone pins and alerts him to your message. It was your usual checking in, telling him that you were home and hoping in the shower. He types back nonetheless, all nonchalant with just the hint of cockiness you love. The sun soon disappears and Raph knows that the best parts are yet to come. You walk around in nothing but a towel, hair wet as well as skin. He swears he can smell you, just by memory that freshly washed scent of yours makes something beneath his stomach yearn.

You make a small stop by the counter to pick up the discarded phone, your smiling at his text never fails to make his ego swell. Bitting your bottom lip and answering to him as you walk towards the bed area he sees the sway in your hips, the jingle of your rear and a towel barely holding on.

Raph licks his dry lips, his phone pins again but he already knows what’s been said.

Now he can relax and enjoy himself.

You brush your wet hair, a few strands already beginning to dry. You grab a few of your basic routine essentials and start there first. Moisturizing your skin, which means dropping the towel.

And that you do. Unaware of green eyes following your every move. Each visible piece of flesh makes Raph’s soul burn, burn with a need. He watches the careful manner in which you care for your skin, touching here and there. The way you linger at his favorite spots, kneading and massaging those areas. He takes a deep breath, whe he sees you reach into the dresser and pull something out.

You make your way towards a chair close to the window, often times you’ve sat there to read but tonight, well you had other plans. It was thrilling, chalk it off to your adrenaline junkie ways but the thrill of sitting there and intimately touching yourself with nothing but skyscrapers and the night sky to accompany you always got you hotter. Mind wandering to Raphael which never seized to add even more heat, the image of his sculpted body and its roughness a turn on for you.

Once upon a time you had told him that while the two of you had been huddled together on the couch. Hands squeezing and groping various points of his body. He had been bewildered when you told him that he physically turned you on so much. For a mutant reptile that lived hidden beneath the streets it never felt like a possibility to find himself attractive. Yet here was a tiny human female praising his looks, his body and other areas he never thought he could put into the category of alluring.

In the now, Raph watches you from his spot on the ledge. The way your legs are spreading and the vibrator slowly making a trail towards your exposed womanhood. He felt that tightness, that need to drop down and release his errection from the confines of his shorts. He settled for running a hand over his clothed crotch. Each swipe making him churr and just to gut him further the toy disappeared inside of you. “Fuck, baby” He whispers to himself, eyes glued to your quivering body. “I got what ya need right here, this yer toy” He emphasizes with a grope to his tented shorts, no use in hiding it anymore.

He can see your lips moving, moans no less dripping with filth and hopefully intertwined with his name. A hand gropes at your breast before settling on you core, fingers toying with your swollen clit. Raph wants that image to play in his brain until he sees white. He craves to barge in right now but it’s not time yet, he needs to see your body shake and go rigid with release. Your hand speeds up, thrusting the toy as your other rubs at your sensitive nub. “That’s it baby, come on” He breaths hard, nostrils flaring and hand not seizing it’s rubbing on his rock hard cock hidden inside his shorts.

That familiar coil snaps inside of you, Raph’s name falling from your lips as you continue to fuck yourself through your climax. The toy does no justice to him, doesn’t hit the spots he can hit, doesn’t stretch you the way you’re used to by now. Shallow breaths and sweaty skin, just the way he likes it.

Speak of the devil, the phone rings.

Carefully you removed the toy and cast it aside to pick up the phone.

“I can make you feel better than that pathetic toy” Raph’s husky tone makes your toes curl. God, does he even comprehend the damage his voice can cause?

“How about instead of spying on me you get your big ass over here then” You bite your lip when he grunts, there’s shuffling on the other line and a sound of something heavy lands by the fire escape.

You watch him come into view, all imposing ‘6”6 of him. He grins at the display before him, he keeps the phone call going while he crouches to admire you. This was something the two of you had discussed before hand, that you were never opposed to Raph just keeping an eye on you...

That you actually liked being watched by him. The red banded brute had taken that to heart, he would be a liar if he didn’t say that he loved watching you do these types of things.

He opened the window, phone put away he got to his knees in front of you and without hesistation he dove in. Legs on his shoulders he holds you in place as his mouth works over your sensitive cunt. That skilled tongue of his made you whimper. The softness of your legs against either side of his head is one of Raph’s favorite sensations. Full on earmuffs, the tighter you squeeze the harder he felt his dick get.

It never fails to drive you nuts, to feel the air leave your body in one large in take as Raphael eats you out earnestly. Tongue flicking against your clit you caught green eyes glued to your every reaction, your hands fly to the back of his head and you push him against your folds. There’s no worry, you know he can hold his breath for a while and the pressure is exactly what you need to feel that rush hit you once more. “RA-AH!” Is all you can shout as you tremble and moan in your seat.

You feel like jelly, as if your limbs are foreign objects but you barely have to rest when Raph is standing again to his full height and gripping the back of your head. “C’mere baby girl” He growls as he shoves his shorts enough to free himself and pumps his cock vigorolously. “Open your pretty little mouth for me-fuuuuck” You lick your lips and open your mouth just as you’re told. Raph barely holds on, you’re his absolute fantasy come to life right now, sweaty and skin flushed, tits moving with every heave of your chest.

“Take it like the good girl you are-ahhh” He cums with a long grunt, each white rope hitting your open awaiting mouth while a few shots dribble down your chin towards your chest. He pumps his member till there isn’t anything left, the last of it dripping from his cock onto your thighs.

It’s a god damn mess and it’s beautiful. Raph admires your stained skin, bitting his lip when you lick the excess from your chin, scooping some of it from your chest. In your clean up you watch Raph undresses, gear and all discarded somewhere. You squeal excitedly when he lifts over his shoulder, hand smacking your rear.

“Now let’s make a mess in ya” He crosses towards the bed, ready to dunk you on it and start up this game again.

You happily oblige.

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - iv.

NOW PLAYING: Memories - David Guetta [ft. Kid Cudi]

an; yo, sorry if the transitions are a little sloppy; I’ll go back in and fix them when I have the chance :,)

last song 🔊 EP 🔊 playlist 🔊 next song

“We try to hide our feelings, but we forget that our eyes can speak.”

“Oh, fuck - sorry,” yn moved out from behind the counter, “forgive me, I’ve been daydreaming a bit. What kinda model do you got?” Yn said as she walked the nice lady to the side of the store where parts are displayed on the wall in lamented posters. “You’re very pretty, sorry if I keep staring.”

“Oh, fuck - sorry,” yn moved out from behind the counter, “forgive me, I’ve been daydreaming a bit. What kinda model do you got?” Yn said as she walked the nice lady to the side of the store where parts are displayed on the wall in lamented posters. “You’re very pretty, sorry if I keep staring.”

“Oh, fuck - sorry,” yn moved out from behind the counter, “forgive me, I’ve been daydreaming a bit. What kinda model do you got?” Yn said as she walked the nice lady to the side of the store where parts are displayed on the wall in lamented posters. “You’re very pretty, sorry if I keep staring.”

“HA,” the lady snorted as she played with her wedding ring, “you sound like my husband; you are like - the first girl I’ve met who has thought I was pretty. Thank you, it truly means a lot.” The lady smiled as she began pulling out her wallet and a few written down notes, “it’s uh - fuck hitto, you write like a kid, it’s a 2016 Ducati?”

“2016 Ducati Full Throttle,” yn said back with a small smile as the woman laughed again, “I’m assuming it’s your husband’s old bike?”

“Yeah,” she played with her ring as her smile softened, “he wants it in good condition before he gives it to one of our neighbors. It’s tradition for his - occupation..”

“He in a gang?” Yn asked as she began shuffling through shelves, “Don’t sweat it, I’m not gonna freak out over trivial matters.” The young ryuguji chuckled as she finally found the part she’s been looking for. “Here,” she place the part on the top, “its the G2 Throttle Tamer Ducati you needed. I’m assuming he’s still in a gang by the looks of how you covered for him, but don’t worry - it’d be hypocritical if I got scared you were involved with a delinquent.”

“Oh,” the lady sighed out, “thank gods. You can call me Kaku-san if it’s alright with you? Could you install the part by yourself? Sorry, my man is just always busy with work and was hoping to have someone install it for us..”

“I can’t personally install it, but my brother can! He gets back from his lunch break in about twenty minutes, so I know its a long wait -"

vrrr...vrrr...vrrr

"I'm so sorry, I'll just turn that off-," yn went to hit 'decline call.'

“I can wait, no sweat!” She smiled as she began digging through her mini backpack, “I need to check and see if my loser has ate lunch yet. I'll be outside for a bit." With that, 'Kaku-san' had walked out as she dialed her husband.

"Fucking hell," yn breathed out before hitting accept, "Inui-senpai, hey - what did you need?" Her breath hitched in her throat as she heard his low laugh.

"Just checking to see if my favorite girl has ate yet - so, have you?" Yn could just hear the smile that creeped upon his face, but for some reason - she didn't feel as in awe as she once did.

"Ah," yn scanned the shop and began totaling the price for the repair and writing further notes for her older brother, "no, I haven't ate yet, but I was planning on just heating up some of the leftovers that Souya-kun gave me."

"You know, if you keep being as cute and clingy as you are around him," yn could hear him moving around paper bags of what she assumed was to-go food, "shit, sorry. As I was saying, if you keep being so cuddle buddy with him, he's goin to fall for ya."

"Or," yn rolled her eyes as she began to document minor details on the log for each hour, "maybe, you're just reading in too deep on the fact that Souya is just an overall easily flustered person. Being a decent human does not make my kind actions count as flirting; if it does, well, you men around me are just dumb."

"Oh, don't be like that, princess," inui said in a rather sarcastic tone, "you know I'm just teasing you. Leaving that matter, I got you lunch - your favorite lunch, might I add."

"Thank you senpai, but -,"

"Inui-kun~ why aren't you getting off the phone yet? You promised that you would pay attention to only me today!" Yn heard a whiny voice - a woman’s whiny voice - through the phone, “I thought you said after we get lunch we’re just gonna lay in bed all day.” Inui mumbled something to her that seemed to have shut her up, clearing his throat, “sorry about that, are you still -,”

“I’m pretty busy and I plan on going out with a friend for my lunch break,” she cut him off, “have fun on your day off.”

yn knew she shouldn’t be angry; inui was never hers to begin with, but she was hoping that he’d at least spare her feelings. maybe this was good. maybe knowing that he has someone, even if it’s just a fuck buddy, will help her clear her mind and finally let go.

tani senpai <3: ft during your lunch break?

tani senpai <3: wait do you play cod? if you did that’s be kinda hot

tani senpai <3: I meant dope but hot works too

tani senpai <3: OH, wait rain check on the call, why don’t we just meet in person? ;) after all, I still have your necklace.

tani senpai <3: I cleaned it up because I was wearing it so I wouldn’t lose it.

tani senpai <3: lmfao I really made it a blood diamond at one point

kaku-san paid her total for the part and repair and ensured yn that she’d be back around five. sighing once the older woman left, yn went to check her phone that had been buzzing incessantly since she hung up on her brother’s best friend.

you: I’m gonna punch you in dick next time I see you :,) I was helping someone and I had to act like my phone was not going HAAM in my pocket

tani senpai <3: uh uh uh , leave ran jr. alone. he did nothing wrong :p plus, you’d have to kiss it better if you hurt him

you: I — WHEN ARE WE MEETING AND WHERE ?

tani senpai <3: [location] a small nightclub @ 16:00 tonight :) I would offer to buy your dinner, but you threatened my best man.

you: I hate you :,) but um,,, I don’t exactly know — what to wear to a nightclub..? Can I just go in a hoodie and some sweats and talk to the bouncer like “hey, I know the haitani bros — lemme in.”

tani senpai <3: LMAOOO,, nah I would to see you size the man up. as for clothes — you don’t have anything like ,, that radiates “hot girl” shit ?

you: no, if I’m not in my uniform — I’m either wearing my brother’s clothes with some cargo pants or sweats. sometimes I wear my own clothes, but that’s usually just merch.

tani senpai <3: as much as I want to see you in school uniform or in full need mode, I don’t think the bouncer would just let you in. OH, wait — fuck them. I forgot that I’m literally a god to them lmao,, wear what you want , I’ll wait outside for you and we can walk in together :)

you: wait really :,) I’m gonna try and make use of what I have tho ! I’ll lyk when I get there :)

tani senpai <3: wow so you’re not gonna ft me :|

you: you licherally said “rain check”

tani senpai <3: but I just finished my tasks for today, call me or I’m calling you

you: sorry , my brother just got back, I’ll talk to ya later :p

tani senpai <3: fine :| I’ll just bother Rin then.

the young ryuguji chuckled before locking and pocketing her phone once she noticed her brother’s presence. sure, she was still hurt at the fact that inui is currently hooking up - maybe even dating - another girl, but at least she could look to the eldest of the Haitanis and feel herself forgetting all about her first love.

“What ya lookin at brat,” Ken laughed out as he went to pat her head, “hey, who has you smiling like that?” He has always been protective; it was just his nature as a big brother. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re happy, but if it’s about a boy I would LOVE to know who.”

“It’s just a stupid thing that emma-senpai sent me,” yn attempted to play it off, “anyways — how was lunch?”

“It was good,” draken said as he went to put his jumper back on, “but it coulda been better if inui didn’t bring his ‘friend girl’ around. She kept hittin on Mikey and asking about my necklace and I almost called you up to come deck her.” He quickly grabbed his chain and kissed the ‘Emma’ that hung in the middle just before tucking it back under his white tshirt; it was his routine.

“I woulda showed her that ‘Draken Uppercut’ if I was there big bro,” yn made a small show of what she did in hopes of making her brother smile.

“You’re an idiot,” his smirk plastered on his face in a proud manner, “but I don’t need you wasting your energy on her. It just — like who the hell do you think you are touching a random stranger, especially around their neck. Like who?” She could tell that he was upset that he couldn’t have done anything; Draken was just brought up to be extremely respectful. “The worst part,” he threw a wrench at his ‘anger wall,’ “she kept asking shit like: “who names their kid emma,” “was she at least pretty,” and the one where I almost put my hands on her, “is she dead or something? what you just can’t let go?” Yn, I was so close to knocking her daylights out. She honestly got lucky takemitchy had tackled Mikey, or she woulda got her shit rocked.”

“I,” yn was at a lost for words; she had never heard someone disrespect any of her family this openly, “what the fuck did inui say? Did he just sit there through all this shit?” she moved from behind the counter and rolled out one of the bikes he was scheduled to work on, “please don’t tell me he did.”

“No,” draken rolled his eyes as he recalled the previous events, “just prop it up by station one, gotta get the new 340 mm rear air shock absorber suspensions, oh, could you jot that down, please? But nah, this fucker,” draken lifted the bike up so the back was in the air and put it on a lift, “just found every way to piss me off. Like I love him, but he fucked up today. He told us ‘sorry, she’s just cranky so don’t take her words to heart.’ If she called me ugly or some dumb shit I’d be okay, but he really told me not to take to heart the fact that she spoke on Emma’s name like that.” He tugged on his dark locks as he undid it, “could ya put it back up for me, it’s not tight enough.”

“I gotcha big man,” yn gently massaged his scalp as she went to put his hair in a tight but loose bun, “you know, she’s probably really proud of you right now. Bet she’s smilin up there too.” she could feel his tenseness fade as she comforted him; she’d do this one hundred times a day if it meant that he’d finally stop blaming himself for all those years ago. “There,” she smoothed over the top of his head once more, “all done.”

“Thank ya,” he hums as he begins to work on the bike, “oh, do you want to come with later? me and the boys are gonna head to mitsuyas before we go out so you can hang out with the other brats.”

“Actually, I um,” yn felt the sweat gather in her palms as she walked back to her station, “I was wondering if I could go out tonight - with a friend..”

“What friend,” yn flinched as her brother snapped his gaze towards her, “do I know said friend?”

“N-no,” she cleared her throat and began writing on sticky notes and receipts, “he — they were nice to meet when I first got back in town and offered to hang out - so, I felt that it’d be rude to -,”

“Nah, you’re not going,” draken turned his attention back to the bike, “you’re either going to stay home or hang out at mitsu’s house. No in between.”

“That’s fair,” yn sighed, “can I just have a reason as to why I can’t go?”

“Because I don’t know em and the streets have been rainin havoc since Mikey got out,” he sighed as he put his tools down. He stood up to full height and gently patted the leather seat of the propped up bike, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, bub. Yer my number one right now and I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on if you even get the slightest bit of hurt.”

“I understand big draco,” she laughed softly, “Can I just stay in then? I promise I won’t leave; I just feel like being in my own bed tonight.”

“Anything for you, yer majesty.” Ken smiled as he concluded that he had the best sister in the world.

—

“Alright, yn, we’re about to head out,” her big brother knocked on her door, “can ya at come say bye?”

“Fuck,” yn got up and quickly put an oversized sweater and some basketball shorts that reached just below her knees, “gimme a minute! Sorry, I was taking a nap.”

“We’ll be out in the living room, dumbass.”

If anything, yn was just glad none of them walked into her room to see her basically bare figure - shout out to her Ken-nii for knowing his sister. Once fully covered, yn made her wait out the room and noticed everyone sitting on the couch in the living room, even inui.

“Yn,” souya barked out, “you’ve ate right? If you haven’t ‘m gonna fight you!” He stood up and approached yn as all the other boys smirked and whistled in the back. “You guys shut the hell up.!”

“Neh neh,” nahoya laughed, “you need to stop bein so flirty over there, angry.” Smiley always teased angry, but that was just brotherly nature; however, if anyone else were to continuously pick on angry — it wouldn’t be a shock if Smiley was on top of them and imprinting the curve of his elbow into their forehead. “He just missed you, little Ryu. Make sure to let us know if anything happens-,”

“We’re going to get Ken-chin laid,” Mikey said with a mischievous smirk as he began pushing his taller friend out the front door. “Choi~.” The other boys followed either patting her head before they left or hip bumping her; hakkai decided to be the odd man out and hug yn to his chest and dramatically walk out the door as if they won’t see each other for fourth years.

“BYE,” she poked her head out then quickly shut the door and disregarded her hoodie, “now that they’re gone..”

VRRR..VRRR….VRR

“OH MY GOD, WHAT,” picking her phone up off the coffee table she fell back onto the couch, “what do they want-,”

Incoming FaceTime: tani senpai <3

“Shit.!” Yn quickly sat up and answered with an apologetic face, “heeeey, what’s up?”

“You look cozy,” he eyed the tops of her shoulders with only her bra straps decorating them, “cozy enough to make a man stand outside for, hmm - what does my watch read - thirty minutes.”

Yn looked thoroughly confused as she cocked her head to the side and fell back, “what does you standing outside of some random building have to do with me?”

“Did you really —,” she watched the man shift and bring her golden chain into view, “you were supposed to meet me tonight in order to get your precious necklace back. You stood me up and now I look like a fucking idiot who got stood up.” He deadpanned into the camera and had a small pout, “you had all the guys laughin at me, darlin. You really disappointed me.” Yn felt her heart slowly tear; she hated disappointing anyone. “If you were going to show up you could have at least said so.” Just as she was about to speak, Ran hung up and left her to wade in her thoughts.

—

You: Ran-senpai, I promise it was on accident ! I meant to tell you earlier, but it just slipped my mind (read 8:44 p.m.)

You: pls forgive me :,) I fell asleep as soon as we got off work and came home; draken-nii told me to rest up since I can’t go out so I figured I might as well (read 8:45 p.m.)

You: yk if you’re going to read my text, the least ya could do would be to respond. I said I’m sorry. (read 8:47 p.m.)

You: yer a fucking brat , man child who throws a fit and refuses to actually try and listen to others when they try to talk it out with you. (read 8:48 p.m.)

You: self made bitch. (read 8:50 p.m.)

You: yk what, fuck you. I tried to be nice to you and I actually enjoyed talking to you for what-? A week ? You’re mad because I can’t just do what I want? Sorry I’m a great sister who doesn’t want to make her brother worry. Sorry I don’t just abide and do as you please because I’m not a fucking sheep. Keep the necklace for all I care; I’ll just get a new one. Stupid cunt. (read 8:52 p.m.)

You: Fuck face. You probably just wanted to get in my pants and dip; fuck you. Leave me alone, if I see you on the street; I don’t give a fuck if I get shot or jumped, I’m gonna punch you in the throat, pussy ass bitch. (read 8:54 p.m.)

tani senpai <3: give me your address so I can drop this necklace off and get out of your life since you so desperately want me to.

You: no way in hell, just keep it.

tani senpai <3: if you don’t want it then I’ll just drop it off with your brother tomorrow.

You: you fucking —

You: ugh, fine, just drop the shit off and leave . [location] (read 8:59 p.m.)

—

With a knock at the Ryuguji’s front door, yn shrugged the jacket back on and checked through the peep hole. After noticing it was the infamous older brother of the Haitani duo, she quickly yanked him inside and made sure to lock the door quickly.

“You know drop offs don’t usually require the said delivery man to be in the house, correct?” He asked with a bored expression as his eyes scanned the small space. “‘S cute for someone with you and your brother’s income.”

“I only pulled you in because my neighbors like to talk about what goes on throughout everyone’s house,” she rolled her eyes and pulled in the strings of her sweater, “hurry up and give me the fucking necklace so you can leave.”

“I did all the work of coming here,” he brushed past her as he took off his shoes and made his way to sit on the couch, “the least you could do is offer me a drink or some food.” Ran laid back into the cushions and spread his long legs as he slowly turned his gaze to the TV, some random anime blasting in the background. “Well, if you don’t mind, a water will do.”

“Cute for someone with you and your brother’s income,” she mocked as mumbled under her breath and grabbed him a water bottle from the fridge, “here, your majesty.” she tossed it into his lap and stood in between his legs to block the tv and make him focus all of his attention onto her.

“To what do I owe you?”

“My necklace, home invader.”

“Take it off of me then,” he raised an eyebrow, “you didn’t expect me to do that as well did you?”

“Fine,” her shorts hiking up as she moved to straddle his hips, she took note that he had been eyeing her thighs since he arrived, “I’ll take off the stupid thing.” She buried her chin into the crook of his neck, “just sit still so I can -,”

“You know,” he flattened his palms against the bare tops her knees and barely sliding his finger tips up the rim of the pants, “you hiding more just makes me want to see you in less.”

“Heh,” she chuckled as she slowly wrapped her arms around the middle of his torso, “yer a fucking perv as well as a bastard.”

“You know your necklace isn’t dangling along my spine, right?” He chuckled as he gently kneaded her flesh, “am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Nah, feels nice,” she chuckles when she feels him gently dig his finger tips into her skin, “‘m makin you uncomfortable?”

“nah,” he jokingly mocked her as he took his hands and slid them farther up to the tops of he thigh, “boxers?” He pulled back slightly so he could rest his forehead on hers.

“mm, never really wanted to bother ken-nii when he did the laundry, so I just get boxers,” she laughed, “what? Did you honestly think I’d be chilling at home in a thong or something? Women gotta breathe too.” she felt her heartbeat pick up as his finger tips danced along the material; yn wondered if he could tell that she’s never had a boyfriend as she lacked - in takemichi’s words - ‘ettick.’

“You are respectful yet have anger issues, a smart mouth, and embody the term ‘I don’t give a fuck,” he swiftly took both hands from under the clothing and lightly placed them on either side of her face, “you are so fucking gorgeous, didya know that?” His rings were cold on her heated skin, making her smile softly.

“..you know,” yn laid a chaste kiss on the bonten’s left wrist, “… ‘msorry..”

“Couldn’t hear ya,” he chuckled deeply as he maneuvered his right hand at the back of her neck and squeezed lightly, “repeat it more clear this time. You wanna be a good girl, right? Be the best girl you can and repeat it.~”

“Motherfu-, AHEM,” she scrunched her face up in hopes of hiding how happy it made her to have a second chance at being a ‘good girl,’ “‘m sorry you don’t know how to communicate.”

“Ah ah ah,” he squeezed his right hand a little tighter, causing her to ground her hips down and lean forward into his chest, “that’s not what I want to hear.” she heard him groan, but she was too busy fighting the battle in her head as to why she felt more secure when he gripped her tighter.

“I said,” she nuzzled her nose between his lean pecs, “‘m sorry.” Yn got up and placed one of her hands at the base of the bonten tattoo and squeezed gently along his Adam’s apple, “I’m not saying it again, so you better have heard me the first time.”

“You’re so angry; a wolf under sheep’s clothes you are,” ran hummed as he leaned back in, noses brushing, “yer forgiven little lamb. I don’t know - you barking up the wrong tree knowing that I could hurt you just turns me —,”

BZZT, BING.

Both bodies had turned their heads towards the door in confusion.

“Are you expecting guests?”

“No,” yn quickly got off of Ran’s lap and grabbed the crowbar that rested by the umbrellas, “fuck, if it’s those fucking assholes that want to fight ken-nii, ‘m gonna kill em.” She went to look through the peep hole, only to be pulled back to the older man’s chest.

“Let me get it,” ran signaled for her to hide behind the kitchen wall as he pulled out his signature baton that hung on his belt loop, “be quiet, little one.” Ran opened the door to a young man, about a year or two older than yn, dressed in a pizza delivery uniform with 3 large boxes in his hand. If he wasn’t just some kid, the Haitani would’ve beat him just for openly sporting a scowl towards him.

“Oh, hi sir, are you,” the young man looked back at the receipt then back at the Bonten executive, “Kawata Souya? I have one pepperoni, Hawaiian, and plain cheese.” Ran’s head shot to the side at the sound of you rushing towards the door.

“A-ah ! That would be me I guess,” yn guided Ran’s hand behind her to hide the weapon as she widely opened the front door, “sorry my brother’s friend probably ordered it since they went out -,”

“Yn?”

“Huh,” she looked up at the man, “oh shit, hongo?! I thought you were in Osaka right now for Uni; you still play there, right?”

“Yeah,” the worker replied, “oh shit, this like.. a date or something?” He threw his glare at Ran and softened his features once his gaze returned back to the young ryuguji. “Nah, nevermind, that’d be dumb considering you swore off dating,” the bonten men felt as if his heart had been pricked with a small needle, “especially since you used to swear to draken we were gonna get married and stay together forever and ever.” Yn was visibly embarrassed as Ran watched her take the pizza from Hongo’s hands and start trying to kick him off the porch. “Wait, before I go,” he said as he jotted down his number on the receipt, “let me know when you’re free. Maybe ya could come see me play one of these days? Summer games start back up next week so I’ll be headin-,”

Ran pulled on yn’s wrist before slamming the door, interrupting Hongo’s spill. He made show of how hard he locked the door so anyone outside could hear that the house was closed and not expecting anymore visits.

“Ooo,” yn placed the pizzas down onto the small kitchen table and looped her arms around Ran’a slim waist, “are you upset yer not getting all the attention?” She giggled as she kissed the symbol that marked the center of his neck.

“Why would I be upset over some 4 incher maxed college boy,” he smirked as he brought his hand to the side of her face and let his thumb brush along her bottom lip, “plus, if anything he should be the one whose upset. You can’t hate me or push me away if you wanted to; your desire for me to show you the depths of the world is visible just by looking in your eyes.” Yn felt her breath quickening and her head going numb as his words made way into her; making her feel far more intoxicated than any alcohol or drug could have ever done. “You can try to deny it, but what sane person would invite one of the most violent people with the most blood on his hands into her home?”

“I’m the farthest thing from sane,” yn breathed out as she placed a chaste kiss onto his lips before burying her face under his chin, “because I find myself wanting to do this more. I’m so glad I don’t look where I’m going when I’m on my bike.” Ran laughed as he connected their lips, but this time he deepened the kiss; her knees gave out and his tongue slipped in making her lungs just as weak.

“Princess, youre fucking gorgeous,” he broke away before holding her in his strong arms, “but I don’t want to just ‘get in your pants.’ I want-,”

“Good, because im not easy,” she cut him off as she tried to catch her breath.

Ran laughed as he dragged her back to the couch, leaving her to fetch each of them two big slices of cheese pizza. He sat beside her, kissing her temple, and devouring the free meal, “yknow, this taste ten times better than any food at the shitty night club.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she said as she harshly swallowed the dough, “ish bad mannirs..”

“You,” he leaned in and kissed the sauces covered corners of her mouth, “also taste better than any food at the club.”

“Well you’ll have to wait until you can taste all of me,” catching ran off guard - she flirted back, “after all, the fruit taste better when ripened.”

—

“Princess,” Ran attempted to shake her tired figure off him, “believe me, I want to stay. I really do, but I don’t want to cause a stir or heated argument between you and your brother.”

“We we’re just playing Mario kart and you said,” yn stared up at him with an unimpressed glare, “I’d fuck you on the counter of the pizza place just to embarrass that pizza boy,’ and now you’re scared to be caught by my brother?”

“Not scared,” he bit the tip of her nose gently before freeing himself of her limbs, “just cautious. Want my little girl not to have any complications; plus, I’d have to kill your brother if he made you cry.”

“Wait,” she pulled his sleeve, gaining his attention, “text me when you get back home.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead before making his way out her front door, “okay, little lamb.”

—

Within the span of 4 hours, draken arrived back home and yn managed to make the house rid of any clues of guest over; she even masked the smell of Ran’s cologne by bringing the box of pizza to the living room to spread the smell of grease and regrets. She rested easy on the couch, allowing some random movie to lull her into the comfortable cushions.

draken sobered up a bit after he came back and went to get a late night snack from the kitchen. spotting his sister on the couch, he chuckled softly as he gently rubbed her forehead, “thanks for bein a little angel, ya gremlin.”

it’s as if the gods above could sense draken’s obliviousness and caused yns to vibrate several times. Much to her brother’s curiosity, he checked the notifications and felt his blood boil.

—

tani senpai <3: hey, made it back home. hope you rest easy, princess. thnx. rin also says “thanks for allowing him to annoy you so I could catch a break

inui. : yn can we talk? I promise it’s not what you thought; idk what to say. Just remember, you’ll always be my favorite girl ..<3 lmk when you’re ready.

inui. : idk jus tseeing yuor brothr without you attached at the hip just made my stomak hurt, I wanna see you more.. maybe it’s because I’m drunk and finally thinking sobre, but yer awlays my fav

inui. : look, unsot having talked for like — a weakk? Has Ben eating me up, I really miss you. I’ll see you at the shop ? dream well, pretty girl.

takemitchy: BESTIE,, DONT FORGET YOU OWE ME A REMATCH BECAUSE YOU HAD YOUR BROTHER PUT ME IN A CHOKEHOLD SO YOU COULD CROSS THE FINISH LINE

takemitchy: wait, can you send me your brownie recipe ??? Hina loved them :,)

—

he didn’t know whether to be upset at the fact that there was some random “tani senpai” texting his sister and he didn’t know jack shit about them, or the fact one of his best friends was talking and drunk texting his sister. Nothing a beer and pizza can’t help.

After grabbing a full pizza box plus some beer and bringing it to his room, ken stared at his tv processing everything he just seen. Maybe this is just a dream? Maybe he’s so dizzy from the dancing and whiskey that he can’t seem to think straight? There’s just no way that his little sister would actually go for his friend; let alone, his friend returning the affection, right ? There’s absolutely no way that his sister would be letting random boys in the house. Nah, maybe he’s just scared of letting her go to university and growing up on him. This is all just a shitty nightmare.

“Whatever,” draken burped out as he took the cheap beer bottle to his lips, inhaling the last of the liquid, “heh, maybe it’s kisaki’s ghost hauntin my head with dumb thoughts.” He felt himself drifting to sleep, but stirred once he realized he almost forgot his nightly routine. Untucking the chain from his neck and pulling it towards his chapped lips, “g’night emma.”

Taglist: @richiyo @haitanigigi @chifuyusprincess @legravalice @l-ilysm @katariinasworld

[hops-hunny]

Girls Like Her

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: N/A

Summary: In which Kyoya is smitten and not afraid to show it.

Warnings: None! Fluff.

A/N: this is so self indulgent and I don't even care I NEEDED some Kyoya with a black girl bc where's all the color in the ouran community??

Kyoya had a fine eye for spectacular things. Running the host club with Tamaki required it. He was always looking for something of interest that he knew the guest would like and that would bring in a nice bit of money as well. That's why he was mesmerized when he saw (Y/n). Sure, Kyoya had seen girls that were deemed "beautiful" by whatever measure of beauty the rest of his high class socialite peers thought. However, he had never put much thought into what he personally found beautiful but now thanks to her, he didn't need to.

Sure he had seen women with nice skin. It wasn't very uncommon. Going to school with girls whose parents made most people's yearly salary in a day meant they were well cared for. They took care of their skin with the finest of products, as did he. However her skin was unmatched. Nice hues of brown which glowed beautifully in the soft daylight of music room 3. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. Smooth and brown all over like a bewitching goddess. And sure other girls had hair. It was all a blur to him however, nothing he could point out or was anything but ordinary. All of it was the same straight hair in the same bland style. But hers however?

She wore some of the most elaborate styles he had ever seen. He didn't know the proper names for them at first but the more she visited the host club, the more he'd overhear her speak about them to the other guest. Box braids, goddess twist, faux locs. Each style suited and complimented her well. Anytime she'd change it up he'd observe it carefully, viewing every bump and turn on the art that was her hair. His favorite though was when she'd wear it naturally.

 God was it a sight. A large, picked to perfection afro atop her head like the crown a princess, no, a queen of her caliber should have. It reminded him of the clouds in the sky he'd see on a nice summer afternoon except far more eye catching and far more mesmerizing.

"Tamaki?" Kyoya questioned, looking up at his blonde friend. The last few of the guest had trickled out by now.

"Yes mommy dear?" He quipped, walking over to his raven haired friend.

"Is there a reason we don't see Lady (L/n) any time other than the host club? How come I've never seen her in any of our classes?" He asked, trying to ignore the stupid look Tamaki had on his face.

"Kyoya, are you in love?! Oh how amazing! I always knew this wo-"

"Forget it, this is a waste of time." He began to head to the door but stopped as Tamaki stopped his path.

"Wait! (L/N) as in (Y/n) (L/n) right? She's a year below us, that's why you probably never see her outside of class. We don't have any classes with her except lunch if you count that." Kyoya hummed at the man's words before walking to the door, opening it. 

"Thank you." He said, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"No problem, dear friend."

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

Kyoya stood behind his podium, greeting guests as they came through. He offered each of them the same fake smile he'd give, confirming their host choice for the day. He never cared too much to remember faces, just the different things they'd enjoy and how he could make profit off of them. Well everyone except-

"Kyooo! What's up? How ya doin today?" She chirped, leaning close to him as she offered him a bright smile from behind her supple plump lips. He smiled down at her, a genuine one (not that he'd ever let anyone know that).

"Ah, lady (L/n). A pleasure to see you as always. Your usual I presume?" He said, searching for the twins' names as he went to check the mark.

"Actually I thought I'd switch things up today!"

"Really? Who will it be then?" Whoever it was would be so lucky to be graced with the girl's presence. Her smile grew wider at his question as she leaned even closer.

"You! You do host right? I haven't seen anyone come to you for some time." She mused, resting a brown hand on his arm. Normally he'd remove himself from anyone's touch but for her he didn't mind so much. He'd even go as far as to say he enjoyed it. "Any excuse to stare at that nice face of yours longer."

'The same could be said even more so about you, darling.' Is what he wanted to say but consumed by his own nerves he let them get the best of him. "Usually I find myself too busy to," he started, noticing her face drop, "However I can always make exceptions for ladies of such high beauty as yourself, princess." She smiled, heading over to the empty table that Kyoya rarely hosts at. She sat on the couch across from him, fiddling and moving around as usual. (Y/n) was an unusual energetic girl who found that she couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds, which was a trait that usually drove him up the wall but when it came to her he found it to be quite cute.

“You’re not going to eat or drink anything?” (Y/n) asked, shoving her mouth with the tiny tea cakes that sat on the silver cake stand. Kyoya let a soft smile take his face as he watched her. He always kept them hidden in the back because he knew they were her favorite and they were far more expensive than anything else they served. The cakes themselves were imported from France daily which was obviously a pretty penny but, he didn’t mind. The smile on her face made it worth the extra bit of cash.

“I’m not much of a fan of sugar, it’s bad for your skin.” he stated, looking down at the little black book in his hands. She hummed processing his words before wiping her mouth off with a napkin.

“Well what do you usually drink? I wanna have the same thing as you!”

“I’m a fan of earl grey served black. No sugar, no cream.” he said. She eyed him carefully before giggling. She leaned in close, looking into his dark eyes as he stared back.

“Yeah you seem to be quite the fan of,” she cleared her throat to hide a giggle. “Black things.” Kyoya set his cup down, choking on the liquid. (Y/n) sat back in her seat satisfied, laughing loudly as she threw her head back. A few of the guests stared at her with angry eyes, upset by her mild disturbance. But, she didn’t care. She never did. Once his choking died down, she sent him a wink. “I’m only messing with you, Kyo-chan! Lightin up will yeah? Anyways I’d like to have a cup of what you're drinking. It couldn’t be too bad, right?”

Wrong, she had been deeply wrong. Kyoya smiled in amusement as she sputtered out the tea, coughing dramatically. “Is it not to your liking, dear?” he asked in a sarcastically cheerful tone.

“Like hell it is! This shit is gross.” she began to pout, pushing the cup away from her. “I’d like my usual back please.” she said, looking up at him. He felt his face heat up slightly as he nodded his head, grabbing her cup before heading off with it. He searched the shelves carefully before finding her usual and preparing the way he knew she liked it. Too much sugar and too much cream. He chuckled at the thought, 'it suits her.'

(Y/n) smiled as he returned with her cup taking a sip as she let out a sigh of content. "As much as I'm enjoying my time with you today, my lady, I'm curious about your sudden shift. You always without a doubt choose the twins." He questioned, watching as she delicately set her cup down on the wooden table. He admired her presence. She was graceful but in a way he had never seen before, unique just like everything else about her.

"Do you want the real answer or the fake answer?" She questioned, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. Kyoya had a split second of a confused look before offering her another smile.

"Honestly is the best policy, my dear."

"Well- you see- ugh!" She huffed, slouching back in her seat. He couldn't help but find it adorable how the big ugly yellow dress swallowed her whole during that action. "I always wanna request for you Kyo-chan but you always seem so busy, so distant. I figured I'd let you have your own peace." She leaned forward on her hand as she rested her elbow on the table. "And besides, I've seen you reject to host much prettier girls so why would you host me?"

Kyoya's eyes widened at the (h/c) haired girls announcement. Prettier girls, than her? Too busy, for her? He chuckled some catching the girl's attention. Before she could ask him what was up he began to speak. "I don't mean to laugh in your face princess but I think you've got it twisted." He stood up, pulling the girl close to his chest. The other host watched with wide eyes and their mouths open at Kyoya's uncharacteristic behavior. "There are no prettier girls nor is there anyone I'd rather spend my time with," he tilted her head up bringing his face closer to hers, "Than you." (Y/n) stood there breathless at his words. Her eyes gleamed brightly at his confession.

"Are you busy this weekend?" She asked him faintly.

"Well, I'd have t-"

"Well now you're not. Take me on a date." His eyes widened at her forwardness before laughing softly. She did have a way of doing that, leading the way in any conversation no matter what the topic.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He teased, pulling back from his hold to push his glasses up his nose. "Either way, alright dear. How could I say no to you?"

Tamaki watched from a far with a hand over his heart, genuine tears falling out of his eyes. In all his time he had known Kyoya, he had never seen him passionate about much of anything. To see his friend so sure of himself, so content in his emotions moved him. Thank god for the sun that had taken away Kyoya from his rainy days.

[nightwishesworld]

Hello! I hope you still do request! If you are, may I ask for the three daughters keep borthering Alcina’s partner while she is out for works. So Reader tricks them to play Hide n Seek and because all daughters are so competitive that they hide for hours, Reader just continue to work whatever she is working on until Alcina comes home, wondering where are her daughters at 🤣 Thank youuu

Ooh this was a fun write! Apologies for this taking so long...I’m starting to get backed up with requests...but I love it! haha

You were sitting at your desk in your private study trying desperately to get at least some work done. The only things that could be heard were the scratching over your pen across paper and the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock stood in the back corner of the room. The atmosphere was perfect for productivity. You promised Alcina you would get through at least half of the large pile currently cluttering the top of your desk, and you were hardly eclipsing a quarter of it. 

It’s nothing important, just the overview of various renovations needed in the castle. Most of what needed to be done were small projects and only required a small team of specialists to finish the job; those were easy enough to organize. It was the bigger jobs that were difficult to put together. For instance, the balcony of the East Wing Archives was starting to crumble, and cracks spread from the balcony to surrounding pillars. That one is going to be very tricky to work with. Out of all the rooms in the damn castle, it had to be the Dimitrescu Archives, really? You avoided that responsibility like the plague.

You were really happy when Alcina gave you full control over the project, even if it was because she didn’t want to deal with it, you took it as her trusting you with the restoration of her home. That both excited you and terrified you to no end. She wasn’t around very much during daylight hours as of late. Apparently, Heisenberg needed her help with one of his own “projects.” What exactly that is you have no idea and honestly, knowing how Heisenberg was, that was ok.

What wasn’t ok, was your darling step-daughters amuck in the corridors and distracting you with their laughter and occasional crashing sound. You can only hope whatever they broke wasn’t a family heirloom. Once they found you hiding in your study they starting pestering you to play with them. Every five minutes a different daughter found their way into your study, examining your various knick-knacks until you acknowledged their presence. Or ya know if they break something. Whichever comes first. 

After a while, they gave up on their subtle approach and all three of them burst through your door, demanding attention like the brats they were. But you love them anyway. They were clever little brats too; they learned very quickly how best to manipulate you into doing their bidding. Three little words were all it took to have your entire reserve crumble to waste. “Please, Mama y/n.” They could ask you to help them dispose of a body and you would happily follow as long as they say it like that.

So naturally, that’s what all three of them were shouting at you. But you can’t keep going on like this. Alcina always told you to just ignore them and eventually the lack of attention will bore them and they’ll leave; easier said than done. You had a sneaking suspicion the girls poke and prod at you more than Alcina, for obvious reasons. Alcina was like a lion when mad- ferocious and would not hesitate to bite your head off. You, however, felt like the girls view you as the pissy cat that got sprayed with water for scratching at the furniture.

After all, you’re just the step-parent. Of course, they don’t take you as seriously as their own mother. You were still their friend more than a parental figure. Nine out of ten times that was perfectly fine by you. Today they were really pushing their luck though, and you weren’t sure how much more “please play with us, Mama Y/n,” you could take before snapping. 

Then you had an idea. An awful, wicked idea that may just let everyone get what they want.

You slammed your pen down and the desk and turned to face the girls. “How about a game of hide and seek? I’ll count to one hundred while you three hide.”

That seemed to satisfy them so much they were already barreling out the door.

”Wait! I didn’t tell you the rules yet.”

Daniela rolled her eyes. “There are no rules, y/n; you count, we hide, you find us. Simple.”

“True,” you nodded. “But we’ve never played inside before and the castle is a lot bigger than the gardens, wouldn’t you say? No going outside, the secret passages are restricted as is the basement.” The girls nodded along. “And no leaving your hiding spot for another. If I find you roaming around you’re disqualified.”

“Can we go yet? I already know where I want to hide.”

“Go on.”

They vanished from your study within the blink of an eye.

“Finally some peace and quiet.”

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

Hours had passed since you finished creating the project guidelines. Now all that was left was to contact the specialists to get an estimate on price and time span. It was a very productive afternoon. Something felt off though. Oh well. You were far too tired to give it much thought. All you wanted to do was get through dinner and go straight to bed.

You walked into the dining room, where Alcina was already waiting for you and gave her a kiss on the cheek before taking your usual spot across from her. 

“Something troubling your mind, dear? You look stressed.”

You barely looked up from your plate, clearly too busy pushing your veggies around to properly address your wife. “Hmm? Oh yeah, sorry Al, I guess I’m just tired. Most of the paperwork is done so we can start scheduling some of the smaller projects.”

“That’s marvelous news. I hope the girls didn’t bother you too much.”

You shake your head and wave her off like nothing. “Oh no, they were fine. All I had to do was tell them to go- oh my god I forgot about the girls.”

“What do you mean you forgot about them? Where are vthey?”

You both make your way down the corridors, completely abandoning your meals. “I-I don’t know! I told them we’d play hide and seek and...well I forgot to seek.”

“I thought it was a little quiet around here,” Alcina sighed. “How do you forget about your own children?” 

“They weren’t letting me work! I was gonna go look for them eventually I just...lost track of everything. And who hides for this long? It’s been like four hours since I told them to go hide.”

“You remember who we’re talking about, right? Or have you forgotten just how competitive our children are.”

“Yes, yes I know. Well they couldn’t have gone too far. I told them the basement and outside were off limits. Is there something we can lure them out with? Like a lamp or something?”

Alcina shot a confused look. “Why would a lamp help us find them?”

“You know, cause they can transform into moths…”

Alcina only arched a brow at you.

“And moths are attracted to the light…? No? Whatever, that was a clever joke and it went right over your head.”

“If you say so dear.”

She really worries about you sometimes.

[rpdepartment]

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT SENTENCE STARTERS ; SURVIVORS PERKS

partially requested, partially mod castiel is completely lost in the game. so much that this sentence starter was meant to be done DAYS ago but i just couldn’t find my way out of the fog. change pronouns as necessary!  TW: implied violence, foul language.

everything that glitters isn't gold.

gold isn't worth a damn in this place, so this should come in handy.

their first album is still my favourite. it got me through a dark time in my life.

i have true sight.

i'll hit you with everything i've got. then I'll do it again.

there's no limit to what you can achieve, as long as you back it up with hard work.

i promised to keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what i plan on doing.

i've jumped from higher places.

let's burn that lab to the ground.

buck and wild, swing to be free, your hands just can't keep ahold of me.

we have to work as a team, i need you to survive so that i can survive!

probably stings like hell, but it ain't gonna kill ya. up and at 'em soldier. time to move!

basic botany knowledge could save your life someday.

i felt like it got a story to tell. and it didn't waste its second chance.

come, we're going to rip our way out of this.

ghost beaters never leave a man behind.

architecture is the soul of civilisation.

so, remember once you get in there... pretend like you don't care.

there you go, you're learning my friend. you're learning.

take it from an old-timer: slow down, don't rush and try not to worry so much!

the best way to beat him is to know how he thinks.

there's nothing to be scared of.

i was raised by a strict man who taught me how to make the best of a bad situation.

when they come with a wrecking ball, build stronger walls.

are you able to tell us where you were last night?

bravery can conceal your flaws, even when you are at your most vulnerable.

there's what is easy and then there's what is right. if you confuse the two, there's no telling what you become.

the weak are sacrificed first. it's nature, it's business... it's the truth most refuse to face.

i wanna finish what we started. i want to kill it.

we can write our own story and decide how it really ends.

people are remembered for the challenges they overcome. you can run away and forget what you're capable of or you can face your fears and remind the world of who you are.

buckle up, fuckos! let's roll!

all this time i've been trying so hard to pretend like everything's fine, but it's not.

be kind to one another. we're all in this together.

i'm not horse-shittin' around. i'm doing this alone!

take it slow, he knows where you've been... just like I've always said: 'live slow and die old‘.

you mad?

that's not enough to beat me. not even close.

evil has a bullseye on my back the size of tiger stadium.

i couldn't be mithered with it all anyway, you know what i mean? can't be arsed.

i believe we can outsmart and overthrow him if we work together. don't be predictable and selfish!

he was watching me!

trust me, i investigate thoroughly and discreetly.

paying attention is what kept me alive through the years. that, and my good looks of course.

adrenaline, it's going to keep us awake.

ok, stay calm. don't overthink it and just keep moving forward: you got this.

i relied on others to protect me once and i lost everything. never again.

i have a bad feeling about this!

show me what you can do!

the news edit out what is burdensome and complex, which is the truth.

focus, even in these desperate times.

yeah, that’s a no.

something i learnt in the industry: when the axe is swinging, keep your head down.

i've dealt with psychopaths in suits. you're just uglier and worse dressed.

it was the boogeyman.

showing up when things get rough, listening to people's problems, and supporting those in need; that's how you become stronger, that's how you grow.

there is a voice that doesn't use words. listen...

i had you, i had you on your knees. you're runnin' scared because we had you!

you're doing it wrong! let me show you how it's done.

i’m gonna stealth this one.

what the hell is this?

i’m taking this bastard down!

what can i say? i'm just a very lucky guy... i'm sure some of it will rub off on you.

goddammit, i am seriously FUBAR!

the paint is still fresh but i’m long gone.

i'm gonna be here when you wake up. you're gonna make it.

ok, look. if we survive the next 24 hours, then i’ll take you out on a real date.

i'm confident we can all escape in one piece if we help each other.

come on then, let's 'ave it! i don't give a shit pal.

[sock-ness-monster]

Excuse is granted. Please. I beg of you. Infodump away

Thank you so much I love telling people about this guy

So, to preface this, I'll be telling this story exactly how it was told to me by our camp counselor at a Caveing camp I went to, so it's very much an oral history that maybe can't be fact checked but the broad strokes are genuinely 100% true

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEATH, DARKNESS, CLAUSTROPHOBIA, GRAVE DESECRATION, CRICKETS

Now that that's out of the way (and please mention if there's any other TW's I should add) the story of

Floyd Collins, The Man Who Was Buried Six Times

This story begins in Kentucky in 19very early, a young Floyd was plowing his family's field when he suddenly dropped through the ground and discovered an unknown cave system. Super cool! Now, people back then did not have television, keep in mind, so caves were really big deals and they were a brand new and lucrative tourist escapade. Floyd's family seized the idea and quickly made a little tourist attraction out of it and started raking in the dough. But they weren't the only ones who had a cave you could tour, Kentucky's geology is super unique in that it has tons of limestone and sandstone which is perfect for underground rivers to carve cool caves out of. They are everywhere in Kentucky and the surrounding area, there was a lot of competition for who had the best, the biggest, the longest cave. And Floyd and his brothers were seized by cave fever and were exploring all around looking for new tunnels and chambers. A large part of this business, unfortunately, was not just walking people through the caves but was letting them take home souvenirs. People could carve their names in the wall, take a stalagmite or stalactite or whatever cool rock they found. Destroying the sensitive ecosystem of the caves. Floyd, the cool dude that he was, was one of the only people who was against this at the time. Good for him! Salamanders are important!

Anyway, Floyd and his brothers are always on the lookout for new opportunities, and there were tons in that area. But, not all of them would pan out. Floyd had heard rumblings about a new cave system called Sand Cave that wasn't far from his family's original cave, which by now had been dubbed Crystal Cave. It didn't seem that promising to most, but Floyd was hoping it actually connected to Crystal cave, and they could tack on so many feet to how big their cave was. So he set off to see if he could find a connection.

He had been surveying the cave for a few hours, and decided to call it quits. He was crawling through a tight tunnel upwards toward the opening of the cave when a rock slide pinned his ankle down tight. He was laying flat with his hands reaching upwards, and there was no way for him to reach back behind him to free his ankle.

He had gone on this expedition without telling anyone.

This was the first time he got buried.

Three days pass, and his brother Homer finally finds him. He tries everything he can think of to free floyd, to no effect. Realizing that this may be a bigger endeavor than he can pull off, he crawls back out to go and find help. It is January of 1925, what else is there to do but go to the newspaper? They publish the story of the man trapped in a crawl way, and it's a huge hit!? People are fascinated by Floyds predicament. They want to help, they want to see, they want to know more. It even makes it on the radio! The three biggest news stories of the time were

1) the war (oof)

2)Charles Lindbergh (will come up again later)

And 3) Floyd in the hole

Everyone in America is anxious to find out how they rescue Floyd. "They" being everyone from the local cave experts to the military corps of engineers to the freakin freemasons, they're all trying to figure out how to free Floyd. Who, ya know, is just chillin in the cave, because caves stay at a constant temperature of ~54° , not too bad for January. His brothers and a reporter take turns crawling down to deliver him the three essentials; food, whiskey, and news. The reporter, "Skeets" Miller, would later win a Pulitzer Prize for his correspondence with floyd in the shaft. Now, as mentioned before, it is a cold and snowy January, but people (nearly 10,000 according to some reports) are so fascinated by the goings on at Sand Cave that they travel from far and wide to be there at the triumphant moment when Floyd emerges. Weeks have gone by at this point. Radio stations are reporting every day, Charles Lindbergh is hired to take photographs of the terrain from above. It's like a big party up top.

They camp out around the cave mouth.

They build fires for food and warmth.

The snow melts.

The cold water trickles down into the cave.

Floyd....... starts to cough.

The cave's already sketchy structure is further compromised.

There's another rock slide.

Floyd is now cut off from contact with the up side world, and the engineers panic and go with a last ditch effort they had been debating beforehand. They can't go around they can't go behind, the only path left was straight down. They drill a hole that reaches the 150 feet from daylight to Floyd's prison. They are too late. He was estimated to have died three to four days before they reached him. His leg is still stuck, and half his face has been consumed by cave crickets. And they just.....leave him there. Whatreyagonnado they shrug, he's already gone we can stop now. They fill in the shaft again.

This is the second time Floyd is buried.

Homer, his closest brother, can't accept this as his final resting place. A few weeks later, they un block the hole and carry Floyd to their family's funeral plot and have a small service with just his closest friends and family present.

This is the third time Floyd Collins is buried.

A few years go by, and the Collins family sells their farm and cave. Unfortunately, they did not see the part of the deed that entitled the new owners to everything in and under the property. Floyd's body is now legally theirs. He is exhumed and placed on display in a glass coffin in Crystal Cave (which years and years later would eventually be proven to connect to Sand Cave).

This is the fourth time Floyd is buried.

If you haven't pieced it together yet, caves were a pretty big deal. We now enter a time in Kentucky history known as the Cave Wars, and they are brutal. How brutal, you ask? Well, to answer with one scenario that happens to be related to this story, the owners of nearby cave were jealous of the attention Crystal Cave was getting from their cool exhibit of Floyd's body, against his family's wishes. Why, the only logical thing to do is steal the man's body and throw it off a cliff. Crystal Cave's new owners would recover it, though minus the left leg. And the next logical thing of course is to put him back on display but this time with a bunch more chains.

This is the fifth time Floyd Collins is buried.

Then, the 60s roll around and Crystal Cave and Floyd are purchased by the National Parks Service on the grounds of being connected to the Mammoth Cave System (the longest cave system in the entire world now). Floyds family is still fighting for his body, and in the 80s they finally get their wish. Floyd is removed from the cave in a 15 day trip and buried at a real cemetery again.

This, is the sixth time he is buried.

A pillar is constructed in honor and perhaps in reparations to all he's gone through, but it is struck by a semi truck and demolished less than a week after its unveiling.

Floyd.......went through a lot. All he ever wanted to do was see some cool rocks and support his family. And to this day, cavers do their best to do right by him. When entering Mammoth Cave, they often ask the darkness to look after them. They aren't talking to the darkness, of course, that darkness that can never be described properly. They are talking to Floyd. Asking him to watch over them as they wish he had someone to watch over him. In the caves everyone is above you, but that's not what they mean. And when they hear a whistle through the tunnels, they like to imagine it's Floyd. Floyd, who was right. The cave was so much more than people thought, in so many different ways. To this day, there's a saying in the caveing community.

"Floyd Lives"

It's like the geology version of "Eddie Would Go". As long as we carry on his legacy of exploring bravely, daring to go where noone has gone before, and do our best to preserve the natural beauty and habitat of the caves, floyd will live on. Floyd lives in our memories and hearts and the drips of water that will one day be pillars.

I don't really know how to end this. Here's a picture of the man himself;

(the picture above is not the tunnel he was trapped in, to be clear)

[cringelordlikesplaz]

Strange to be an Eel

Turning into silly putty wasn't the strangest thing that had happened to him, honestly. It’s everything that happened after that which was weird.

"Please! I'm begging you, Jake bailed last minute and we don't have any replacements! This musical is our last chance. If this flops, we'll never be able to keep this place open!" She cried. 'She' being a short woman with desperate tears in her eyes and too many freckles. 

Eel pulled his wrist out of her surprisingly strong grip. He shook his hand off and observed the woman in front of him. She looked stressed, tired, and a general mess. Her name tag read ‘Penny’.

"Well, Penny." He said curtly, "I got things to do. Better things to do than-"

"But you're the perfect fit! You're the right size, you already know all the lines-"

"Seeing a musical five times doesn't mean I've memorized-"

Penny snapped to attention and pointed her finger into the air dramatically. The imaginary audience located in the storeroom fell silent. 

"And if I'm not here to save the day- Then as God as my witness, I'll be here to save the night!"

"-It's 'then as the gods as my witnesses'." Eel pointed out. Penny smiled smugly and Eel shook himself off.

"That doesn't prove anything. And it doesn't change the fact I can't go onstage!" Eel said.

"You'll be wearing makeup and goggles! A hat too! No one will be able to recognize you in costume!" Penny said, suddenly desperate again.

"No! I won't do it!" Eel said in response to her puppy eyes.

"Please! Please, Bruce Wayne's out there and if this goes well the PR will be fantastic!" She said, tears beginning to fall.

Eel looked up at the cracked ceiling and let out a long, long groan.

"I want 100 bucks." Eel said.

"Deal!" Penny said, the tears instantly evaporating. 

Damn actors.

~~~

So, the musical rendition of the hit show 'The Grey Ghost' went pretty damn well, in Eel's opinion. He was skeptical at first, as anyone should be, but he had to admit it, Penny was right. He was an amazing Grey Ghost. 

It helped that Eel had been a fan of the Grey Ghost since he was a boy, and it also maybe helped that he had snuck into the theater to see the practice runs of the play five times. He had thought he was being sneaky, but apparently theater kids could like, smell intruders. Fresh blood, if you would.

He hadn't known what would happen when he was cornered by a very manic little blond lady, but it ended up surprisingly well. He even got paid. 

After he and the other actors had taken their bows or whatever, Eel snuck back to the storeroom. He pried off the grey suit- it was kinda itchy honestly- and began to dig around for his usual clothes. 

He put his suit on. The nice one, that didn't pinch his shoulders and had all his crap in the pockets. He buttoned up the coat and pulled out his glasses. They were black and pretty slick, if he was honest with himself. Which he was. Occasionally.

The temples were wide and helped hide his eyes from the side. They hid his scar even better. They were sunglasses, unfortunately, not the best eyewear to have in Gotham, but he liked them. And that was enough for now. 

They were also expensive as all hell. Some sort of designer brand. He would wear them till they broke for how much they cost him. 

There was a knock on the door.

"I'm decent," Eel said. 

Penny opened the door and held her clipboard to her chest excitedly. Her eyes sparkled. 

"So." She said.

"So?" He asked.

"So! Y'know how Bruce Wayne was in the crowd tonight?" She asked.

"Yup," He said. 

"He liked it! He liked it so much he wants to fund us!" She said, "And he wants to meet you."

Eel blinked. "He what?" 

"He said your performance was incredible! He wants to meet you!"

"No." 

"No?" She asked, her head cocked, "But you've got so much talent! He could get you a job, y'know." 

"No. Just- no." Eel shook his head. He could just hear the sirens now. "I can't, Penny."

She seemed like she wanted to press him- like she did with getting him into the costume. But something on his face made her reconsider, apparently.

"Alright." She said, sighing, "I'll tell him you're not available."

"Thanks, pal." Eel said.

They stood awkwardly.

"I need to go." He said, pointing behind her to the door.

"I- okay." She said. Penny stepped aside and Eel left the storage room, Penny following behind. She led him to the backdoor.

"Um, thank you...?" She said as he stepped out into the alley.

"It's best if you don't know my name." Eel said.

"Will you be back?" 

"Probably not." Eel said, "What with your success here tonight- I think there's going to be too much foot traffic around for a crook like me to be hidden."

She smiled softly, "You weren't very hidden in the first place."

"I'll have you know I've hidden from cops in more obvious spots."

"I think that says more about the GCPD than it does your skill," Penny said.

Eel huffed, mockingly offended.

"Later, miss." He said, turning to leave.

"Goodbye." She said.

Penny waved to his back and waited for him to slink into the shadows before she shut the door.

~~~

"Eel O'brian." A gruff voice called.

Eel grinned and craned his head around to look at a familiar face.

"Matches! Ol' pal, where've you been? It's been ages." Eel said.

Matches Malone slid into the seat next to him at the bar. The bartender wordlessly handed Matches a drink and Matches wordlessly slid a few bills over the counter.

Eel took a sip of his own drink- a cocktail.

"I've heard there's work around." Matches said, taking his match out of his mouth to take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably.

"I mean, yeah-" Eel said, rolling the cherry around his glass for the hell of it, "But there's always work around."

"Hmm." 

"Yeah yeah, I know what ya mean." Eel said, nodding. "You want the work that won't have you dressed up as a daisy and punched by a furry. I gotcha."

"Hmm."

"I miss the good 'ol days, Matches. Before all these folks in spandex came along and started going nuts all over town-" Eel paused, taking a sip of his cocktail, "-But I do got to admit it; the spandex is pretty hot."

"I need cash." Matches said, ever eloquent. 

"Cheers to that!" Eel laughed. He downed the rest of his drink, swallowing the cherry. 

"Where's the work?" Matches finally asked, and Eel's grin faltered. Always work and no play with this guy.

But Matches seemed to like him well enough, so Eel wouldn't hold it against him.

"So, new boss in the West part of town looking to hire some folks. I think they're hiding something pretty big, but we won't know that 'till we get there, won't we, Matches?" Eel said.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, me too buddy."

~~~

Things at the new job were getting crazy. Like, really really crazy. Like the type of crazy he spent a great amount of his time trying in vain to avoid. Super crazy.

Pun intended.

It started off fairly normal. By Gotham standards anyway. Looting places. Stealing. Scarin' the living daylights out of folks. Keeping out of the limelight. 

But the boss turned out to be working for an even bigger boss- who had a penchant for monologuing- and Eel couldn't help the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

And then the boss- the small boss and not the bigger, monologuing boss- somehow kidnapped Batgirl of all people and decided to drown her. And he did it in this big glass chamber with a valve on the side. 

He stood in front of it, glaring at each of his men accusingly.

He had each of them turn the valve, adding a few inches of water to the chamber, and taking few inches of air away from Batgirl. He was trying to root out a snitch. Or, as he put it, a bat.

Matches didn't even hesitate. Eel wished he had that guy's confidence.

But Eel? He wasn't a big fan of murder. It made him feel icky. It kept him awake at night. He already had enough insomnia, thank you very much.

And Batgirl- She was just a kid. A baby-faced teenager. Up close, she was no longer a force of nature fighting alongside a cryptid. She was a teenager up to her nose in water, her clothes torn and bloody.

Eel went last.

He put his hands on the valve and-

He couldn't do it.

He wouldn't.

A lot of things happened after that.

The boss (the small one) told the rest to shoot him down, and Eel had a half a second to view his terrible life before Matches tackled him to the floor.

The glass of the chamber broke and the room was suddenly flooded with a lot of water and one very mad vigilante. Then a window got busted in, even more glass flying, and then two Robins showed up- There was the young Robin who was grumpy and the other older Robin that wasn't Robin anymore but Eel couldn't really be bothered to remember his name at the moment.

There was fighting, gunfire, blood, and then there was glass in his hands-

And then Matches had somehow manifested them both outside and set Eel on his feet.

"You-" Eel spluttered, "You saved me!" 

Matches looked at Eel. Eel looked at Matches. The street was quiet. Inside the building, it was not.

"Thank you." Eel said softly.

"...You cost me my payment." Matches said at last.

Eel's face fell.

"I just- She's just a kid, Matches. I ain't a monster." Eel said.

Matches shook his head and walked away, leaving Eel on the sidewalk with glass in his hands.

Guess he was wrong about Matches.

~~~

That day wasn't too bad, though. In the middle of the night he was woken up to a knock at his window. His fourth story window in his crappy apartment.

He opened his window and suddenly a basket was shoved into his arms. He fumbled with it for a second, his hands still raw. There was a blur of movement and Eel was left standing half-naked holding a- a gift basket?

He sorted through it- it had cash and cookies and bandages. It also had a plain white card. He opened it and raised a brow in surprise.

"Thanks for not drowning me!" 

It was signed with a little bat drawn in the corner. 

The cookies were delicious.

~~~

The safe was built into the wall. The safe itself wasn't too big, and the wall was only made of plaster. It would be a pain to lug the safe back to base though. And it would cost precious seconds to hack away at the wall to get the safe out-

There was really only one option. The bomb he had was small and wouldn't do much in terms of excavation- but it would absolutely open up that pesky Wayne-Tech lock.

"Alright guys, we need to get back-" Eel didn't hear anyone. He turned- "Guys?"

"It's been a while, O'brian." Batman said, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of his crime buddies. Well, not really buddies- you get the point.

"Batman! Hello! I don't think we've met," Eel said, swinging on his heel and turning to face his doom.

"No, we haven't. But when I didn't hear word from the police of any of your activity for a few months- well." Batman took a silent step closer. "One tends to worry."

"Oh? Me? Lil 'ol me? You shouldn't have." Eel batted his eyelashes, though the effect was diminished as he was wearing his shades.

"You plan these heists well." Batman said slowly, "You waited until the Riddler attacked to go for this safe. You got past the cameras without setting off the alarm. You tipped off the police of where you'd be- on the other side of town."

Eel tried to reach for the detonator on the bomb. If he could just- "You flatter me, Batman really, but I-"

"We could use a man like that on our side, O'brian." Batman said. "A smart man like you could do some real good in the world."

Eel laughed. That was the most wrong thing he'd ever heard. He laughed but it wasn't funny.

He pressed the button and the bomb started counting down from 10.

"I don't think so, Bats. I'm not the hero type." Eel said, and then tried to make a run for it. Batman caught him by the collar.

"It's not about types. There's good in you."

"I really wish I could stay and chat, but I gotta split." Eel said, slipping his arms out of his coat and breaking into a mad sprint.

The bomb let out a single shrieking beep before it detonated. 

Eel didn't turn back to see what happened to Batman.

~~~

A deal went wrong. Unsurprising. They broke his leg. Unsurprising. He was alive. Surprising! Unfortunately, he was still very much crippled and bleeding out from somewhere. 

He limped along the sidewalk at night, always a dumb thing to do. His vision was either going or the lighting in this city was getting worse by the moment. Given that he lived in Gotham, it was likely both.

He limped into a grassy part of the city- a park of some sort. He'd get caught soon. Or maybe he'd bleed out and die. He couldn't manifest the energy to care either way.

He flopped down onto the grass, for lack of any other bright ideas. He couldn't see the stars through the cloud cover. Tragic. 

"Hey." A commanding voice called. He looked around until he spotted a scantily-clad woman. She was green and wearing leaves and had bright red hair and was looking at him like he was a pile of dead slugs.

Oh. Oh crap. Oh crap that's Poison Ivy.

Eel tried to shrink into the ground.

"Hiiiii Poison Ivy, how's the weather?" He asked. He tried to smile charmingly but it was most likely very strained and bloody.

"Why are you bleeding on my flowers?" She asked, a single brow raised.

"Haa, would you believe that blood makes a great fertilizer?" Eel said.

"It does." She said.

"Uh," Eel had lost too much blood for him to come up with a witty remark.

"Please don't kill me." He said.

"Greater men than you have begged for mercy. What makes you better?" She asked, head cocked.

"I can, uh," Eel panicked, "I can give you my grandma's recipe for caramel coffee." 

Poison Ivy's other eyebrow raised. 

They looked at each other for a moment.

Then, a shrill voice called from across the park.

"Ivy! Come on!! What are you even doing?!" 

Eel was fairly certain he was hallucinating now. Blood loss and all that. Because Harley Quinn, wearing a football jersey and sweatpants, came running up to stand besides Poison Ivy.

"We're going to miss the game," Harley pouted, then took notice of Eel, "Who's that mess?"

"Someone who can make caramel coffee, apparently." Poison Ivy said, bemused.

"I like caramel." Harley said.

Poison Ivy shrugged, "We can keep him if you want."

"I also like coffee..." Harley tapped her chin in consideration, "Yeah we'll take him. Come on, Ivy!"

~~~

That was how he ended up getting high with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. His leg was propped up on a table, a bong was being passed around, the apparent football game played on the TV in front of them. They were in a greenhouse and the city’s lights shone through the glass almost magically. This was probably not what someone suffering from blood loss should be doing. Eel almost considered making a break for it. 

But Poison Ivy was the Weed Queen of Gotham, and getting this stuff free? Too good to pass up.

Harely had seemingly forgotten about the promised coffee, but since they hadn’t killed him yet and gave him weed, Eel decided he'd write the recipe down for them before he left.

"I don't get why capes dress the way they do," Harely said, "I mean, rogues have the same problem but like, it's more noticeable with the heroes, y'know?"

"Like, the boob windows?" Ivy asked. Harley nodded enthusiastically. 

"Yeah, yeah! The boob windows." Harely said, "Why do all the guys wear kevlar and body armor and the girls got to show off their tits?"

"Maybe the dudes should show off their tits too." Eel said. 

Poison Ivy laughed and Harely nodded even more enthusiastically.

"Yeah! This guy gets it!" 

"See, if I were to go running around in spandex-" Eel gestured to his very much not spandex coated body, "I'd show off my cleavage all the time." 

"Men don't have cleavage," Ivy pointed out.

"Not with that attitude they don't." Harley said, "Say, Eel, if you ever get tits, come over so we can prove Ivy wrong."

Eel cackled, "Sure thing! And if I ever start wearing spandex as a hobby I'll make sure the V-neck plunges all the way down."

"You'd better!" 

Ivy laughed and Eel was handed the bong again.

~~~

Eel wasn't even doing anything. He was in his apartment, minding his own business. Well actually he was trying to sleep but that wasn't going so well.

Then there was a tapping on his window. Feeling a sudden wash of deja-vu, Eel turned around. There was an otherworldly, haunting green glow coming from his window. 

Pausing, and exercising a healthy amount of caution, walked over to the window.

A UFO hovered outside his window. A tiny one.

Eel rubbed his eyes.

The UFO bonked against the glass, seemingly wanting inside.

"uh," Eel said. Against every ounce of common sense, he opened the window. 

The UFO flew inside his room, casting its light oddly through his home. There was a mechanical whir, and suddenly a robotic arm sprung out from the bottom of the ship.

"Uh," Eel said, regretting everything immediately.

The UFO then grabbed Eel by his good ankle, his other leg still in a cast for a few more weeks. He lost balance and hit his head on the floor. The small ship lifted him off the floor by his ankle, and then dragged him out the window. He tried to claw at the windowsill but the ship was too fast.

"UH,"

He dangled dangerously over what was at least a thirty foot drop. The UFO paid no mind to his panicked flailing, and instead began to go higher.

"OH GOD."

~~~

The small UFO took him to a bigger UFO, of course.

A small hole opened in the underside of the ship, and Eel was brought inside. The inside of an alien spaceship looked nearly identical to its outside, apparently. Weird and green.

The smaller ship finally dropped him off in a large circular room. He was set down gently on his back, but he still hissed in surprise. The metal floor was freezing and he was only in his shorts.

"Uh oh uh oh uh oh..." He muttered.

"Hello, human!" A cheery, buzzing voice greeted. 

Eel looked around frantically and finally spotted a small, glowing blue light.

"Uh, hi?" He said to the light. The blue light bobbed up and down- excitedly?

"Human!" It said, "We are the-"

It said something that sounded eldritch to his human ears.

"-and we saw your performance!"

He blinked.

"...my what."

"On February 7th, approximately 11 months ago, you performed in the musical "The Grey Ghost Strikes Back!"." The light said. Several other colorful lights manifested around him.

"...uh huh."

"If you are wondering why you did not see us, the-" [REDACTED] "-in the crowd on the date of your performance, it is because we were not there."

"Ooohh kayyyy...."

"Batman recorded it and sent us a copy!"

Eel blinked. They were speaking alienese, he was certain of it.

"He also sent along with it 307 other forms of human entertainment as a welcome package to Earth!" It said, "And we must say, we really enjoyed your performance."

A red light, hovering just a little lower than the blue one, perked up.

"We especially enjoyed your performance in the third act, and would like to compliment your singing skills." The red light said.

"Thank you?" Eel said.

"If it is not too much trouble, human, we would like what is most commonly known to you as an 'autograph'." The blue light said.

"...alright." 

~~~

The night started off odd, he'd admit it. But it wasn't bad. He signed some stuff. He didn't know what the things he signed were or what exactly he wrote with, but it hardly mattered. They asked him to sing a song from the musical- he did- and they somehow applauded him.

They gave him alien food, and he'd be damned if he didn't accept free food. Even if it was probably radioactive. It tasted like cotton candy. Again, not bad.

They told him a bit about their situation. Their home- somewhere on a different plane of existence- exploded. They were the last of their kind. Batman approached them, because he could do that apparently, and offered them a place on Earth.

"Our culture is based on entertainment. Each piece of what you call 'media' is like a fine work of art to us." They said. 

"Oh, cool. So do you kidnap actors you like in other stuff?" Eel asked, trying to figure out the best way to consume the slime on a stick he'd been given. He decided there was no proper way to do that so he just decided to slurp it off.

"We would like to meet the actors and actresses in other media, but they usually just scream the whole time they are here. We gain the impression that they do not appreciate our hospitality." They said.

Eel shrugged, "I can't imagine why. You guys are great."

"You have taken this whole experience very well, comparatively."

"I mean- I'm a bit desensitized to weirdness." Eel said.

"Is this experience considered 'weird' to other humans?" They asked.

"Nah." Eel said, waving off their concern, and set his slime stick down, "Hey, I'd like to get home now. This has been fun and all, but it's kinda cold in here."

"Of course, human. We wish you fame and fortune for your future."

"Uh, you too?"

They dropped him off on the roof of his apartment building. The sun was beginning to rise. He made his way down the stairs, nearly naked and his leg still in a cast. He slept okay.

~~~

Eel was known for many things. He knew most, if not all, of those things were bad. Hell, all of the things he was known for would be bad to the common man. But to the common crook? Only most of those things would be considered bad.

Some of the things he was known for made him desirable. 

He was a safecracker, he never got caught, he could make a good plan and stick to it. He was good at his job.

But Eel was not... valuable, per-say. He was a tool in most people's eyes. Something to be discarded when the job was done.

Eel knew this. Made his peace with it. He knew when he took this job that the guys he was working with didn't give two shits about him. But he needed their muscle for the security guards, and they needed his skill to crack the safe. They all needed the cash.

They walked into this big facility during a storm. Mr. Freeze was causing havoc in city hall again. The outer parts of the city didn't get the blizzard- they got the freezing rain.

The security guard appeared- he had a gun and he was willing to use it. If the folks he was working with were smart, which they weren't, they would have ran. Don't shoot back, don't have murder put onto your sentence along with theft and arson and everything else. 

But they were stupid, and they shot blindly, and the guard shot Eel in the shoulder. And the bullet tore through his shoulder and into a container of something-

Another shot rang out, the guard fell.

There was a crack and suddenly Eel was soaked in something- it was bright and hot and it burned like the embers of Hell. He screamed, of course.

The people he was working with, his 'pals', stared at him for just a second.

"Eel-!"

"Eel doesn't have the cash, now run!"

Eel got up, and gave chase. His steps faltered and his vision swam.

He made it outside just in time to see them get into the car and book it.

"Adios, Eel!" 

"You putrid punks!" He yelled, his hand clutching his shoulder. Everything burned. Everything throbbed. His pulse beat in his ears, the rain came down like knives, and the bullet hole poured blood like a faucet. But it was oddly thick- was it? The world kept wanting to wobble and spin.

The- the police. They'd be here soon. Maybe. Eventually. He needed to go.

He walked. 

Down the street, down an alley, then another, then another, until the buildings began to spread out and trees and grass began to coat the land.

The rain was softer here. Warmer too. He climbed a shallow hill. Like climbing a mountain. His heart slammed the inside of his skull like a drum. There was a tree on the hill, its branches bare.

He collapsed beneath it.

He didn't have time to see if he could spot any stars before it all went black.

~~~

Eel's life had always, always been strange.

But it apparently that was just the beginning.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

I know it's a flashback so asking if they'll be okay is a mute point but please tell me they will be okay

Roman still well remembered the last time they let a human inside their dwelling. It’d been when they briefly lived in the middle-of-nowhere countryside.

It was the type of nowhere that the nearest “town” was a gas station and a few other motley buildings. It was the type of nowhere where the nearest neighbor lived far enough that their house wasn’t visible to your own. It was the type of nowhere that seemed ideal for a few wolves to live undisturbed.

Roman had loved it. As soon as they were within the safety of their property—their territory—he slipped into his lupine form. He ran and he howled, and he hunted to his heart’s content. It was the first time in a long, long while he could simply be a wolf, and not be anything but a wolf. If only he'd known how short-lived it would be.

There were still rules to abide to—he couldn’t venture beyond the boundaries of their territory—but it was easy to fantasize, to pretend that for miles and miles it was just their little pack. He liked it best when Patton and Logan ran with him, their howls joining in unison with his own. In those days, he remained in his lupine form more so than his hominoid form.

As such, he’d forgotten how fragile this serenity was until there was a knock on their door one day. There shouldn’t have been a knock on their door. A knock on the door meant an intruder disregarded the clear boundaries of their territory. He’d wanted to growl and warn off the intruder.

He opened his mouth, but he had little time for even a vibration of a growl to rise from his throat before Patton threw a large quilt over him.

“Shh!” Patton hushed, just as a loud, nasally voice outside the house went, “Hellooo? Anyone home?”

“Stay quiet and don’t move.” Patton commanded, the words audible only to inhuman ears, before in a much louder voice, “Coming!”

Roman huffed, flexing his claws against the quilt out of spite. There wasn’t a clear hierarchy within the three of them—as the eldest, Patton often took the lead, but Logan would also call the shots in some areas, such as interactions with humans. And Roman? Sometimes he led on hunts but as the youngest he often had to defer to either of them.

If Logan was here, he’d handle the human intruder. But Logan wasn’t there. He’d gone into town in the morning to fetch supplies and hadn’t returned yet. Whether Roman liked it or not, Patton took charge of human interaction in his absence.

“Hello! How can I help you?” Patton said, the door opening not fully all the way. Roman knew this from the door giving out only a short creak rather than a long creaeaeaeaak.

“Why hello Hon! I’m Debbie, I heard from your neighbor Dan that someone finally bought old John’s property and thought I’d drop by and say hello. I brought scones to share with you—I made them from scratch. Won’t you try one?” The intruder said, her voice weathered and frayed with age.

“Aw, shucks! Thank you so much!” Patton said. There was a slight pause from Roman presumed to be Patton reaching out for a scone. “Do you happen to be a relative of John?”

“Oh, oh no!” Debbie laughed, “John never had no folks here. Ever since I was a child, he lived here on his lonesome. Bit of a strange one, if you know what I mean.”

“Strange?”

“Well, this is all talk mind you but—” Debbie broke into a whisper, “we think he was a bloodsucker. The fella never did seem to age naturally. Never came into town in broad daylight, always scuttled around twixt dusk and dawn. People don’t like that ‘round here, of course, but there was never any damn cement evidence. Didn’t stop ‘em, I’ll tell ya that.”

Roman did not like where this was going. Patton didn’t like where it was going either—Roman knew by the way the other’s heartbeat doubled in speed.

“Stop who?” Patton asked, his words muffled from a mouthful of food.

“Out here, people take care of each other. Don’t need the government to dictate how we live or swoop in to fix things, hah!” Debbie said wryly, “Bless his heart, old John didn’t go down without a fight.”

“You…killed him?”

“Oh, oh no!” Debbie chortled, her breath hitching abruptly, “I didn’t kill him. You? Well, hon. That’s a different story.”

“Wh—” Patton let out a choked wheeze, a half-eaten scone falling from his hand.

“Y’know, at first—I was just going to ask if you’d seen the wolves roaming around your property. You see, we haven’t had ‘em in over fifty years over here. The natural kind, anyways. What a coinkydink they appeared the moment someone took over old John’s property. But then I thought I should come more prepared than that. So that’s why I made my grandmother’s scones. Oh lord, she’d be rolling in her grave if she knew I tweaked the recipe.”

Roman’s hackles raised. Wolfsbane—she had to have laced the scones with it. The smallest petal could temporarily paralyze a grown werewolf when consumed. If eaten in large quantities? It was fatal. He needed to move; Patton was in danger. But his limbs remained stiff, as if encased in ice. Why couldn’t he move? He wasn’t some stupid weak pup anymore—he needed to act.

“Please—please,” Patton begged, a pained whine punctuating his words, “we don’t mean any—any harm.”

Hurt, hurt, hurt—packmate is hurt. Roman shouldn’t move—Patton told him to stay put. But he must move, he had to move—he needed to dispose of the threat to his packmate. But the last time he disobeyed an order—there was scarlet and screams and sharp silver bullets everywhere.

“Please, do you think I really believe a sick beast like you?” The human, the monster, asked. A soft metal screech echoed in the silence. It sounded sharp—like a knife?

Roman still had time, he could still come to Patton’s aid. If he could only escape the fabric prison engulfing him. His claws dug and tore away at the quilt in a frantic attempt to escape its grasp. He couldn’t seem to find the ends of the blanket; it was all consuming. He growled anyways. A warning growl, the fiercest one he could muster. A growl that meant Unwanted, Go Away, Leave Now.

He didn’t believe the human would actually listen. He just needed to drive the human’s attention away from harming Patton. As he managed to pop his head from underneath the quilt, the edge of a small thin silver blade met his gaze.

“Ro—roman.” Patton yelped. But he couldn’t see Patton. All he saw was the beady eyes entrenched in a face wrinkled from anger and bitterness. If Roman was a hero from a sacred story, this would be the moment he epically saved the day.

But that would be a grievous lie.

-

I mean, kinda?? Don't worry about it, Patton will be fine! And Roman definitely absolutely doesn't get a second heaving of trauma from a human inflicting violence on his loved ones. Oh wait :)

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Welcome Home | Chapter Nine

Chapter Title: Paint It, Black 9/? Wattpad

You manage to catch a grand total of three fish. After that, you decide you've had enough. And yes: it has everything to do with the four hooks you had to dig out of your hand. Helping out camp is one thing. Actually putting in effort? That's another entirely.

By the time you hike up the hill to Horseshoe Overlook, the sun is starting to set. You look around. Hopefully, you can go straight to Pearson's wagon. The fish weigh heavily in your satchel—the one that Arthur gave you. That thought alone brings a blush to your cheeks, and you hurriedly give Pearson the fish to distract yourself from it.

"These'll do nicely, Y/N," he says. "Let's see, bluegill, pickerel, and..." He heaves out the largest one you caught. "A smallmouth bass."

You bite your lip, suddenly a little unsure. "They're okay?"

Pearson blinks, taken aback. "Well, sure. Why wouldn't they be?"

Because I caught them, you think. Instead of saying that, though, you shake your head and smile.

"No reason." You turn with a wave. "See ya, Pearson."

Whether he notices your obviously fake attempt at lightheartedness, you'll never know. Still, it's not like it matters. Pearson, you've decided, isn't the most observant of the bunch. But he does cook a damn good stew.

You find yourself drifting toward Arthur's tent. He isn't back from Valentine yet, though you think he'll be back soon, if the sun is any telltale sign. The wagon doubles as ammunition storage, and you figure you might as well take inventory. Being from modern times—modern jobs—has its perks, apparently.

Although you barely know the difference between rifle and pistol cartridges, you manage to count and organize everything. The wagon looks ten times better by the time you're done.

If only I could do that to the rest of camp, you think with a smirk. Maybe they wouldn't be outlaws if they knew how to take care of themselves.

You pick up a box of bullets. Revolver, you realize. They're not all that interesting, but they are bigger than you thought. Briefly, you wonder if you'll ever learn how to use a revolver. The one Arthur gave you back at Six Point Cabin still sits by your bedroll, practically untouched. You've thought about practicing. Hell, you've thought about a lot of things. But somehow, you just know that if you try anything by yourself, you'll wound up with another burnt hand.

You hold the bullets at arm's length. It's not that you're afraid to try. You're not really afraid of anything, save for the obvious. And yet with the way things have been going, you might as well play it safe.

"They ain't gonna bite you, you know."

Barely stifling a shriek, you whirl around. Of course—of course—, Arthur's standing behind you. There's an amused half of a smile on his face, and you feel your cheeks burning for the second time that evening.

"I know," you say. "I was hoping they would, though. I'm into that shit."

Sometimes, you wish you could control the things that come out of your mouth.

Arthur stares at you, clearly trying to process what you just said. You don't really want to explain yourself. Honestly, that's a conversation you never want to have.

"When did you get back?" You ask, changing the subject.

"About five minutes ago." Arthur reaches over and takes the box of bullets from you. "You thinkin' of practicing?"

A laugh escapes you, loud and a little too forced. "No, not in the slightest."

Arthur seems to know you're lying through your teeth. He gives you a look, then glances down at the ammo again. You can practically see the thoughts going through his mind. It's... slightly unnerving—and slightly adorable.

Actually? You need to stop. If Arthur finds out about your little crush on him, it's game over.

"C'mon," he eventually says, startling you out of your reverie. He pockets the ammo and motions toward your bedroll. "Grab that revolver an' meet be by Florence."

You must look a little uncertain, because Arthur smiles reassuringly and pats your shoulder.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll teach you how to use it."

In seconds, the nervousness you felt goes away. As Arthur heads for the hitching posts, you hurry to your bedroll and pick up the revolver. For the first time, you recognize the craftsmanship that went into it. Elegant engravings swirl around the barrel, and the grip is a lovely ivory with a carved butterfly. You don't know where Arthur got it. Then again, no sense in complaining. It's absolutely beautiful, and you'll take beauty over, well, nothing any day.

You walk over to the hitching posts. Arthur's already in the saddle, looking strong and sure atop Florence. He reaches over and effortlessly lifts you behind him. At first, you're slightly unsteady. You don't suppose you'll ever get used to horseback. But eventually, you settle into Florence's gait as Arthur sets a steady trot for the river.

"We've got about an hour of daylight left," he says. "Might as well make use of it."

"Uh huh," you say, unable to focus on anything but how warm he is. "Sure."

Florence misses a step, and you immediately cling to Arthur in a death-grip. He glances over his shoulder. You don't miss the amused look in his eyes, nor the slight curve of his lips, but you ignore it in favor of, you know, not dying.

For what seems like the millionth time, you marvel at the scenery around you. In the future, you don't really get a chance to sit back and admire natural beauty. There's not really much of it left. Sure, you could take a vacation to Yellowstone or Yosemite, but it's not quite the same. Too many cars, too much... future.

It doesn't take long for Florence to get to the river. Arthur steers him toward a fallen log. He dismounts quickly and expertly, while you do your best not to fall off without your anchor.

Despite everything, you pitch forward. Arthur reaches out and catches you before you can faceplant in the mud, and you hear him try to hold in his laughter. Your face heats up.

"Sorry," you say when you're steady on your feet. "Not really used to sidesaddle yet."

"Ain't gotta apologize," he says, hands still on your arms. He's smiling. "You'll get it."

You smile too, looking into the soft blue of his eyes. For a moment, you forget why you're by the river in the first place. But eventually, Arthur clears his throat and looks away, moving his hands from your arms as he walks to the fallen log.

"We'll start off pretty close," he tells you, "and then go from there."

He reaches into his satchel and pulls out some bottles. You think you recognize whiskey and rum. What surprises you is that they're full.

"Isn't that a waste of good alcohol?" You ask.

Arthur laughs as he sets the bottles on the log. "Was plannin' on giving these to Dutch, but I like this idea more. Been meanin' to teach you to shoot for a while."

Your brain shorts for a second. "Really?"

"Sure." He finishes setting up the targets and moves to stand by you. "Can't help us rescue Sean if you ain't had a little practice."

He stands by you after setting up six bottles, then shows you how to hold the revolver. Your grip is too tight at first, and Arthur waits patiently as you adjust it. Eventually, you manage to get it where it's comfortable.

"Like this?" You ask, looking to him for confirmation.

He nods. "Exactly."

Pulling out his own gun, he quickly shoots one of the bottles, absolutely obliterating it into nothing. You flinch a little at the sound. You've never really been a fan of loud noises, but you suppose you'll have to get used to them.

"Don't try to think about it too much," he tells you, "and be ready for the kick."

You hesitate for a second, then extend your arm so the revolver's pointing at one of the bottles. "How's this?"

Arthur inspects your stance, lips pressed together in thought. He moves closer and gently grips your arm to bend it slightly at the elbow.

"Relax, Y/N," he says. "It ain't gonna bite you."

You find yourself thinking only of how warm he is, how the slightest brush of his hand against your arm sends butterflies through your stomach. Forcing yourself to snap out of it, you nod your head almost mechanically.

"Okay," you tell him, adjusting your posture. "Like this?"

He steps back and gives you a onceover. "Better," he says with a smile. "Now let's see if you can hit anythin'."

Biting your lip, you pull the hammer back and squeeze the trigger. You can't help but jump slightly when the gun goes off, and the bullet goes awry. A splash and a fountain of water tells you it landed in the river.

"Oops," you manage.

Arthur, to give him credit, doesn't laugh. Instead, he corrects your stance again and puts his hand between your shoulders.

"Relax," he says smoothly. "First shot's always the worst."

"But it isn't my first," you protest. "I shot that O'Driscoll."

"Point blank." He presses his hand against your back ever-so-lightly, aligning your shoulders so you're not so tense. "Now try again."

You hope you're not blushing as much as you think you are. Taking a deep breath, you aim the revolver again and pull the trigger. The first bottle explodes in a flurry of shattered glass.

"I hit it!" You beam at Arthur triumphantly. "I actually hit it!"

He smiles at you, a soft grin you don't think you've seen on him before. After a moment, he motions for you to move on to the next bottle. It takes you another try to hit this one, but eventually, it joins its companion and shatters.

You keep practicing until finally—finally—you hit all the bottles. After that, Arthur looks at the almost-dark sky and tells you it's time to head back. You have to admit, you're a little disappointed. Well... until he says he'll take you out again tomorrow.

Back on Florence and trotting steadily toward camp, you manage to ride sidesaddle without wobbling too much. And as you climb the hill to Horseshoe Overlook, listening to Arthur hum contentedly to himself, you find yourself feeling more at home than you have in years.

Inspired Music: The Rolling Stones | Paint It Black 

[jessikahathaway]

Vegas, Baby - Part I

Pairing: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Romance, Smut (Slow Burn)

Warnings: Explicit Language.

Summary: After four years, you have been let go from your job. Taking a chance you head to Vegas to make the best of a bad situation. A situation that only gets worse.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, but we are going to have to let you go,” your boss’ monotone voice echoed in your ears. 

Four years of your life, wasted. Not that you particularly enjoyed the job, but it paid your bills. And that was what counted at the end of the day. Now, what were you going to do? Your parents had already said your room was still yours if you needed to move back in. It was sweet of them really, but you didn’t want to move back in with them, you wanted your freedom and you wanted to be on your own. But what other options did you have without losing everything? 

“Your separation pay will come through at the end of the week,” your ears perked up. The separation pay would be a nice amount no doubt. This financial firm didn’t come without its perks. 

“Very good, sir. Thank you for four years,” you said, trying not to let the bitter tone enter into your voice. 

“You can show yourself out. See that your desk is cleaned out by the end of the shift,” he said, turning his back to you.

Quickly you let yourself out, heading toward your desk. 

“So, what did dickhead want?” Namjoon, your table mate, asked.

“I got canned,” you whispered, gathering up your stuff.

“What? No way, let me go in there,” he said, preparing to stand up before you stopped him.

“Joon, honestly, it’s fine. I’ve wanted to quit for a while anyways,” you confess.

“But, Y/N, it’s bullshit that they fire you. If that bimbo in the receptionist office can keep her job, you can too,” he said, fuming.

“Joon, seriously, I’m fine. Do you see me crying over it?” You asked, smiling.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

“I’m positive,” you answered.

“Okay, if you say so,” he responded.

“Just let me get my shit and blow this popsicle stand,” you said, grinning at him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N, I’ll miss you here,” he said, sitting back in his seat.

“You’re acting like you don’t have my number or something,” you said, laughing lightly.

“It won’t be the same without you here to annoy,” he said, giving you a dimpled smile.

“I know, you like to do that a lot,” you remarked, throwing a good natured glare his way.

“Well, I’m good at what I do then,” Namjoon stated.

“Which should be working, don’t need you following me out the door,” you said, sighing as you collected the remainder of your important items.

The rest could be left here, consider it a gift to the next unfortunate person who has to work here.

“Hey, text me okay?” He said, giving you a little wave.

“Will do, see ya Joon,” you said, returning the wave before heading towards the door.

—

Two weeks later you found yourself on a plane heading to Las Vegas.

How did you find yourself here? Well, it was a rather impulsive decision. But you and Namjoon had decided to take the rest of your earnings from your job and make a vacation out of it. You were taking a week in the US and spending time in Vegas to get a little wind in your sails before moving back in with your parents. 

Did that take what little wind you had in your sails out? Maybe, but that's besides the point. This was your way of giving the middle finger to your old job by blowing your money on something less than recommended. 

A trip to Vegas was exactly your soul needed after four years of behaving like a good little desk minion. Years of filing and coffee runs, all going to be blown to smithereens. Thank God for that too. You didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about what had been, only what was going to be the best week of your life. 

You had a couple friends that lived in the states, and you were going to meet up with them after landing and unpacking at your hotel. Jessi and Lily were waiting anxiously for you to arrive. 

Jessi: Bitch, I can’t believe you’re actually coming. After all these years of begging, pleading and what not, you’re dumbass comes here on a whim. But, still excited to see youuu xoxoxo.

YOU: R00D. I was working and busy with trying to further my career that capped off at a measly management position. Where the hell were you m8?

LILBITCH: Okay, it is like midnight here so can yall quit your yapping and do the sleep sleep? K thnx.

YOU: Sorry Lily, Jessi decided to be a boob in the group chat. Rest young one.

Jessi: ExCuSE? I Did NO SucH thInG?!?

YOU: You did! And are still doing it!

LILBITCH: Can yall argue in a separate thread plz?

Jessi: Nah, bugging you is wayyyy more entertaining.

LILBITCH: I pick the worst friends. Consider yourself disowned.

YOU: Children children, I come to bring peace to all four nations.

Jessi: The only thing you bring peace to is a party, and that’s what we’re going to fix while you’re here. You are going to get wasted and you are gonna like iiitttt >:(

LILBITCH: Jessi what are you even doing up?

Jessi: Sleep is for the weak.

LILBITCH: No, it’s for people. You know, who aren’t fucked in the head??

YOU: We gonna ignore the fact that she practically said I don’t know how to party?

Jessi: I am perfectly sane!

LILBITCH: Yeah right....

YOU: So we are ignoring that deep insult? K great. 

Jessi: Sorry Y/N, it’s just been so long since we’ve all been together like this I’m so excited. I’m gonna put you in my man stealing clothes and you’re gonna get dicked down while you’re here! Yasssss, I love my plan already.

YOU: THERE IS A CHILD IN HERE!

LILBITCH: Woman we’re both older than you. You’re the child. Who doesn’t know how to party apparently. 

YOU: And here I was thinking you loved me Lily. This hurts. This hurts deep.

Jessi: So, slutty clothes shopping here we come???

LILBITCH: I read the word shopping and I’m so down.

Jessi: yAS

YOU: Some of my dearest friends. Insult me then demand to dress me like a blowup doll? WTF??

Jessi: Not a blow up doll! Is there a tamer version of those Lily?

LILBITCH: I mean not really.

Jessi: You’ll be the sexiest blow up doll out there!

YOU: I don’t like this.

“Ladies and gentlemen we are beginning our ascent. Please silent all devices and buckle up! Thank you for choosing Korean Airways! Enjoy your flight!”

YOU: Well you two can think of more diabolical ways to get me laid and I will be none the wiser. See you girls soon. Love ya! <3

You shut your phone off and let your head rest against the cushioned seat. Letting the rumble of the cabin lull you to sleep.

--

“Y/N!!!!” Jessi squealed as she came running for you. 

You’d slept most of the plane ride, but now you were stiff in the joints and her frame colliding with your own sent the two of you tumbling. 

“Oof, Jess! What the hell man, you’re gonna break me,” you whined as the older woman started squeezing the daylights out of you. 

“Alright pda couple break it up,” Lily’s voice filled your ears. 

You stood quickly and brought her into a hug too. 

“It’s good to see you,” you whispered, rubbing her back as you separated.

“Good to see you too, have you lost weight?” she asked, making you spin around for confirmation.

“Maybe maybe not, I wasn’t exactly eating the healthiest diet when I was at the firm so, maybe I just gained it in different places,” you laughed. 

There was a prickle on the back of your neck. Your guard went up and you looked around. But didn’t see anyone staring. Although, you were uncomfortable.

“Come on, let’s get going. We have a lot to do before tonight!” Jessi said, practically dragging you out of the terminal.

“Jesus Jessi I have ligaments and bones, those things can break you know!” you whined, but she didn’t relent. 

Climbing into the car you still felt a chill of fear run up your spine. But didn’t let it bother you. Right now was about you and your friends, not being a little paranoid after a long flight. Plus, you were abroad, there were tons of people around and that was more than likely throwing your radar off a little bit. 

“Okay, mall here we come!” Lily said with excitement in her voice. 

“But what about heading to the hotel to unpack?” you asked. 

“Oh, we cancelled your reservation. Did you know you saved almost a thousand bucks if you stay with me?” Jessi said.

“Huh? What do you mean? Guys I don’t wanna burden you!” 

“You aren’t going to be, our most recent roommate has vacated the room and left it in perfect condition. It can be yours if you decide you wanna stay for a while?” Lily suggested with a brow wiggle.

“You two are impossible,” you complained, leaning your head against the window.

“Impossibly smart,” Jessi narked. 

You sighed as you watched the cityscape pass you by. Jessi and Lily chatted about nothing it seemed like, but it was comforting that you all fell back into rhythm so quickly after so long of not seeing one another. It made your heart squeeze painfully at the thought of being apart. But you were here now, and that’s what mattered. 

Lily was telling you all about her work at the little cafe she co-owns. She handles the customer service end while her partner handles the more... businessy aspect. 

“And then one of my servers swears she saw a ghost of an old lady in the back room. The building used to be a house but now we have renovated it and turned it into the cafe like I’ve told you. But, I looked into it. And a lady did actually die in there in the fifties. How fucking crazy is that!? And, get this, if it hadn’t happened within the last ten years, the realtors don’t have to divulge that information. How fucked,” Lily sighs. 

Jessi pulls into the parking lot of a large shopping center and you girls all get out, wallets at the ready. 

Linking arms with them you smiled brightly and started walking towards the door. 

About an hour later, your feet were killing you and you hadn’t even tried anything on, much to the dismay of your friends. 

“Come on Y/N, you need to at least try one thing on in this next shop,” Jessi pleaded. 

“Why? I packed clothes you know?” you said, 

“And knowing you they won’t be attention getting enough,” Lily commented.

“Rude, you don’t know what I got,” you scoffed. 

Lily rolled her eyes and picked you up off the comfortable bench you had settled down on and now you were being dragged off of it like a leech of an arm. 

“Come on Y/N, I have the perfect place in mind,” Jessi announced, leading the pack towards another stylish little boutique. 

“If I try something on will you guys quit pestering me?” you whined out. 

“Maybe, depends on if we like it or not,” Lily’s voice rang in your ear. 

Somewhere, deep down, you knew letting them drag you to a shopping mall was a bad idea. But you hadn’t realized how bad until they had you dressed to the gills in sequins, sparkles and everything glittery. 

“Guys this stuff is itchy!” you said, itching your thigh, that was barely covered, for emphasis. 

“Oh come on, Y/N, you look great! It really shows off those curves!” Jessi complimented, spinning you around.

“I brought the same style of dress, but in a popping red color. It will compliment her eyes for certain,” the lovely assistant of the boutique said. Of course they were trained to reach for the priciest piece they had, and tell you it would look good on you. But hey, A for effort. 

“Oooh! Y/N, try it on, try it on!” Jessi yelled. 

“Shh, we are in a store!” you scolded. 

“God you’re worse than my mom,” Jessi rolled her eyes.

“Am not. I’m just trying to contain my two four year olds!” you said exasperated.

“As the youngest isn’t it your responsibility to be rambunctious. Getting into all kinds of trouble?” 

“That’s what we’re here for Lily, she’s had a stick up her ass for too long called adulting,” Jessi teased.

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” you asked, teasing right back.

Jessi just laughed and went to go peruse the racks again. Lily snuggled up beside you and wrapped her arms around you tightly. 

“I missed you,” she whispered.

Smiling you gave her a tight hug. “I missed you guys too.”

Jessi came back with a sexy white number that has cut off sleeves that draped off your shoulder elegantly and it was a little longer than the others they’d thrown you in during that afternoon.

Seeing your eyes looking at the dress with interest, Jessi knew she had won. 

 “Wanna know the best part?” Jessi asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction.

“What?” you asked. 

“It was on the sale rack!” she smirked. 

“Okay give it here,” you said, holding your hand out. Jessi smiled and plopped the dress in your hand without hesitation. 

You shuffled into the dressing room and pulled the garment on. You looked at yourself in the mirror and almost fell over. This wasn’t you. The girl looking back at you was a beautiful woman, someone with poise and elegance. Or was that what the dress conveyed? Because you felt almost empowered in this dress...

“Okay, show us what you got!” the girls said, waiting for you outside the dressing room.

Stepping down onto the floor the girls were silent. 

“Well?” you asked, feeling a little self conscious at all their staring. 

“Y/N, if you don’t buy that dress then I will and force you into it tonight,” Jessi said, still staring.

“Does it look alright?’ you asked, tugging at the fabric.

“Yes now quit fidgeting! We’re trying to figure out what shoes, make up and hair we need to do,” Lily said, settling your hands at your side. 

“I think a red pump,” Jessi said, running off to one side of the store.

“And a red lip to match!” Lily echoed. 

“I love the way you think,” Jessi said back.

You looked down at your bare feet on the floor and sighed. 

“I don’t know, should we go clubbing tonight? I just got here and kinda want to-”

“Not bail out on us and have the fun you wanted to have by coming to Vegas?” Lily offered. 

You sighed and rubbed your face. Jessi came back with a crimson red pair of heels that already made your feet hurt. But you decided to quiet down and just enjoy the time you had with your friends. It was so nice to bicker with them and laugh, it really made your heart soar to be here with them. Even if they were forcing you into some uncomfortable shoes. At their cores, they were great girls, and you were so lucky to have them in your life. 

“There, see how it lengthens your legs?” Jessi pointed out. 

“See how it will destroy my ankles?” you said back.

They just laughed and you guys took everything to the checkout counter. The clerk cashed you out and you ladies were on your way. 

“I’m so glad you bought the shoes too! They look so killer with that dress, and we’re going to make you the prettiest thing at the club tonight! Not that you need much help,” Lily smirked, linking her arms with yours.

You shoved her a little but walked down the hall with her happily.

Until you felt that chill that had run down your spine earlier, reappear. You stopped in your tracks and turned, certain that someone was watching you. But no one was there... It made unease churn in your stomach. Jessi seemed to notice your hesitation and came over beside you. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, trying to look in a similar direction as you.

“No no, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” you smiled weakly, going to move forward.

“If you’re sure,” Lily answered, following close behind.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

After that you only went to one more department store and found nothing of interest, so you guys decided to call it. Walking back to the car, Jessi ran ahead to make sure that it was unlocked. Lily and you walked at an even pace, just enjoying each other's company.

Loading everything into the car you took off down the road for Jessi and Lily’s house.

Slowly, the sensation of being watched faded from your mind. And the three of you went back to your bickering and teasing. 

Finally, you pulled into the driveway. 

Jessi and Lily were quick to help you with your luggage, making sure everything got into the spare bedroom. And then, the work began. 

“Babe, we love you, but you gotta take a shower,” Jessi said, pinching her nose for effect.

“Rude, I literally took a shower before I boarded the plane,” you told them.

“Yeah, and you smell like plane and food court, so go. Cleanse thyself,” Lily commented, looking at her phone.

“Fine fine,” you agreed, heading towards the bathroom. 

Jessi handed you the dress and some undergarments and went into the kitchen. 

The hot water felt heavenly on your body, washing off the grim of travel and shopping. It was nice. The foamy soap on your head invigorating you. You shaved every part of your body known to man, and woman to be honest. 

But when you stepped out of the shower. Instead of the normal underwear you had picked out, was something else. 

Sorry, but we had to burn those granny panties. Wear this instead! We bought them today while you were busy being one with the bench. We know they’ll fit you!

Jessi & Lily

“Those little shits!” you exclaimed, looking down in despair at your underwear option now. 

Pink lacy panties were set on the bathroom counter. How did you not even hear them come in!? You looked at the bra and were certain that you’d be able to see a nipple through the lace that was supposed to be covering your shit. But apparently the quest to get you laid was a serious endeavor in their minds. So, to humor them, you put on the garments. That, in fact, fit perfectly.

“Those creeps,” you shuddered, wondering how your friends had known your exact size.

Pulling on the dress you bought earlier, you marveled at yourself in the mirror. You looked really good. And just as before, you felt as if you could conquer the world, in just this dress. But, you knew the only thing you’d conquer was maybe a bar scene, which would work. For now.

Walking out you found the nasty culprits of the underwear heist sitting around a vanity full of makeup.

“Wanna tell me why I’m wearing underwear that barely covers anything?” you said, venom in your tone.

“Because you put it on,” Jessi said, with a smirk.

“You guys are so fucking nosy,” you whined, throwing your headback in a mock tantrum.

“We aren’t nosy enough, when was the last time you got dicked down?” Jessi asked, suddenly serious.

Scandalized you made a squeak of discomfort. 

“Wh-Why the sudden curiosity??” you asked.

“Because, we gotta know how out of practice you are,” Lily said, as if it were obvious.

“I’m not out of practice!” you shrieked. 

“So it was recently then?” Jessi smiled. 

“No! I mean-shut up!” you cried.

“When was the last time Y/N,” Lily said calmly.

“Three years ago,” you huffed, crossing your arms in defense.

The two girls almost choked. 

“THREE YEARS!?” Jessi screamed.

“I’m right here, there’s no need to scream,” you said.

“BUT Y/N, THAT’S THREE YEARS,” Jessi yelled again.

“I can tell time, Jessi,” you commented.

“How? You’re practically a nun,” Lily snorted.

“I am not!” you defended.

“Sweetheart, listen we are doing this out of love,” Jessi shushed you, cradling you to her chest. “We will help you. Sit down.”

“This is all very offensive, just so ya’ll know,” you said, pointing to them with an accusing finger.

“Shut up and sit down,” Lily said, grabbing her hair appliances. 

You settled into silence, letting the girls do whatever they wanted to you. You found it was easier this way than fighting with them the whole time. As much as you loved them, these girls were bossy and pushy. But, you wouldn’t have them any other way. They helped even you out, making sure you got out there and did have some fun in your life. 

Lily was in the process of doing your hair and styling it the way she thought would work the best, while Jessi was deeply focused on doing your makeup. You saw the crimson colored lipstick come out and knew it was as Lily recommended earlier.

Jessi painted it on your lips with a precision that was awe inspiring. You just stayed still and let them continue their work. Enjoying the transformation happening before your eyes. Before, you were a nervous little office worker. Now, you were a girl on a mission. What mission was still to be decided, but it made you feel powerful. Not saying that you didn’t feel powerful without it, but it was nice to get dressed up every once in a while and to feel sexy. 

Lily put down the hair products and smiled at her work. 

“You look fucking hot,” she pointed out. 

“Don’t make her smile. I'm working on the concealer around her lips,” Jessi whined.

“Sorry sorry, just, she’s really beautiful,” Lily smiled. 

“We been knew,” Jessi smirked. 

“Right right,” Lily said, going to gather the tights and shoes.

“Thanks Jessi,” you said as you stood up, stretching lightly.

You felt a light smack to your butt and you smiled back at her. 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she giggled. 

“Alright ladies, we need to make a game plan for the night!” Lily announced as she walked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” you asked, raising a brow at her. 

“Who wants to get laid, who wants to wing woman and who wants to be the sober one,” Lily said.

“Well, Y/N is the getting laid one,” Jessi confirmed.

“Did you ask Y/N if she wants to get laid?” you asked, pointing to yourself.

“Fine, Y/N, do you not want me to find you a fine specimen of man that could knock your socks off in the bedroom?” Jessi said.

“Well... I mean, it’s not that I don’t want that but...”

“But what?” Lily asked, coming to sit next to Jessi.

“I’m shy, I don’t really attract people. I’m more of a hang out in the corner until I’m drunk enough to approach someone type of gal,” you said, biting your lip.

“Don’t ruin my hard work,” Jessi warned. 

“Sorry, nervous habit,” you answered, stopping the action quickly.

“Y/N, it’s all up to you, we don’t really have to go out but I thought this is what you came here for? To let loose and have some fun before moving back with your parents. But if all you wanna do is have a girls week then we can do that too... But, honestly you look amazing and any guy would be lucky to get with you,” Lily said. 

You thought it over. 

This is what you came here for. To let loose like she said. But now that it was happening you were retreating into office worker Y/N, not the badass you wanted to be for at least a week. So, you didn’t see the harm in getting laid. Honestly, it might get some of the pent up stress out of your system, and that sounded great.

“No, you guys are right. I wanted to come here to be free for a while. What’s the point in hiding in the corner when I can be the center of attention for once in my life. I say, let’s do it,” you said, confident.

Jessi squealed excitedly and clapped her hands. 

“Yes! We are gonna be the best wingwomen you’ve ever seen Y/N! We’ll pick a great one out for you,” she said.

“She also has eyes, Jessi, she might find the one,” Lily chastised. 

“Yes, yes sorry,” she said, shuffling through her closet in disinterest.

“Okay, so Jessi and I are both going to be wingwoman. It’ll be a shared effort so we can pick the best guy,” Lily announced. 

“Right,” you said. 

“But like Lily said, you have eyes. If you find someone you’re vibing with, let us know!” Jessi said back. 

“Okay,” you agreed.

The rest of the evening was spent making out rules and exchanging safety measures to make sure no one got hurt or left behind.

This was going to be very fun.

[torikengel]

Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 10)

When you opened your eyes, the sun was already rising. You felt a pleasant warmth exuding from beside you. You rubbed your eyes to get a clear vision of what, or well who was in bed with you. You saw Thomas peacefully snoring by your side. Then the memories from the last night flooded your mind as you realized you were still both naked. Your first reaction was to panic, but then you noticed something you ignored before. Something on Thomas’s body. You had a clear view of his arm in daylight, and as you inspected his skin, you saw scars... not a few of them, but a whole bunch. These scars covered his whole arm, some were deep, and some looked quite new.

“Oh my god...” you gasped at your discovery. Your heart ached for Thomas. Right now, you had a strong urge to protect him, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. You were still a victim, but you felt less like one after every moment spent with Thomas. Maybe you felt a sense of responsibility? You believed that you could help Thomas and ease his pain... If you ran away, it would mean you betray him. You would be like all the others who stabbed him in the back. You tenderly ran your fingers through his hair.

“Tommy...” you whispered, clenching your teeth. You were split between your past and future... you missed your life, freedom, family, and friends. But then there was this man, this murderous cannibal who made your heart inexplicably flutter. You checked his arm one more time and gave him a soft kiss on the deepest scar.

“Maybe if we met sooner.” you pondered about his past. Right, if you two met under different circumstances. You placed your head back onto the pillow and turned to your side as you decided to sleep a bit more.

“Ahh...” you yelped as Thomas unexpectedly turned around to hug you from behind. But then you just smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying his presence.

*

When you woke up again, Thomas was gone, and so was every other evidence that would suggest he was ever next to you. Maybe it really didn’t happen, and it was just a dream? You stretched your arms and looked out of the window. The sun was already remarkably high up in the sky. You yearned for the freedom outside the walls of this house.

“You had a choice...” you sighed for yourself when you remembered how close you were to escape last night. But you didn’t turn the doorknob. You didn’t open the door. Were you really out of your mind? You didn’t understand yourself anymore. Everything you did was against natural human instincts. You stepped out of bed only to realize that your ankle is cuffed again.

“All right...” you teared up uncontrollably as you slipped down from the bed, landing on your knees. You saw your suitcase on the floor next to you, so you decided to rummage through your past.  After putting on a dress and underwear, you found a diary that captured your attention, so you opened it and read.

“This road trip sucks so far; I am fairly sure they invited me only for my money. Nobody really talks with me. I swear this is the last time I am going somewhere with Emma...” was the last written paragraph. You wrote it before you threw the diary into the suitcase as you were dizzy from writing in the van, but you were frustrated, so you had to. Now you didn’t have any of your good friends or family with you so that you couldn’t share your feelings with anyone... it wouldn’t hurt if you wrote something again, right? You needed to cleanse yourself somehow.

“I was kidnapped by a local sheriff in this weird town in Texas after we had an accident on the road. Even though I am quite sure it’s not a real sheriff. This family killed Emma and the others and ate them... There are four of them... and I...” you couldn’t bring yourself to write that you purposefully missed an opportunity to escape because you had feelings for the guy who kills and butchers humans. You scrapped the idea of writing any further and stabbed the page with your pen... and again and few more times until the rest of the diary was destroyed. You threw it away and climbed back to bed. You were hungry, and you really wanted to use the bathroom, but you didn’t dare to call someone as you didn’t want Hoyt to be the one to answer you. You thought about yesterday, when you felt like more than a victim, today the reality dawned on you and mentally destroyed you. You wished Thomas would be here. You wanted to tell him how you felt about your needs. Why wasn’t he there with you?

*

Thomas wasn’t pleased about the situation either. Hoyt was searching for him in the morning, and when he couldn’t find him in the basement, he went looking for him in your room. He found you both in the same bed, and you weren’t even cuffed. He gestured for Thomas to immediately come out and then scolded him to no end.

“What do ya think yer doin’ Thomas? Sleepin’ in the same bed as yer bitch? Didn’t ya learn anythin’?” Hoyt rumbled. He was furious. To him, you were an outsider, a piece of meat. If Thomas really wanted to fuck you, it was for the sake of satisfaction and not some lovemaking shit. You would become dinner eventually anyway. Then Hoyt sent Thomas to the basement and told him to stay there as he wasn’t in the mood for his face, which obviously hurt Thomas, but he complied. Hoyt decided to take away some comfort from you, so Thomas couldn’t see you or let you out of the room. Plus, you didn’t receive any food.

*

But Hoyt left on patrol, and someone in the house didn’t like the idea of you starving to death. You heard a light knock on the door.

“C-come in.” You stuttered nervously.

“Good mornin’ darlin’.” You saw Luda Mae standing in the door frame with a plate and cup in her hands.

“Charlie isn’t in a good mood today.” she sighed. “But I can’t let ya starve now, can I?” she smiled at you while coming closer. You were so relieved. It wasn’t Hoyt, and Luda brought food.

“Is Thomas okay?” you said as you took the meal from her.

“Oh, m’dear y/n.” she smiled when you mentioned her son.

“He’s in the basement. I think they argued with Charlie. He ordered him to stay out of his sight today,” she explained with a pained expression.

“Why doesn’t he come out when Hoyt’s gone?” you asked curiously. Luda sighed again. “Hoyt locked him in there and took the key. Ya know darlin’, Hoyt doesn’t take no disrespect and ma boy Tommy was acting up. As much as I disapprove of this, my hands are tied. Charlie has the last word in this family. I couldn’t stop what they did to Monty, either.” She complained.

“What happened to Monty?” you asked despite having an idea.

“He got shot by a biker, and Charlie forced Thomas to treat him...” she made it sound so innocent, even though Monty was missing both of his legs. She really didn’t want to portray her son as evil. And you didn’t think of him that way either. You nodded while you ate the bread she gave you to let her know that you were paying attention.

*

After you finished the breakfast, well brunch, Luda Mae returned to take the empty plate and cup.

“Darlin’, I can tell that my boy Thomas likes your company. I only want the best for Tommy. He gave me this.” she took a small key out of her pocket. It was key to your freedom.

“But ya know I am just a weak old woman now, and I know Charlie would be furious if you escaped.” she was very unsure of her actions. You didn’t understand a thing. Luda uncuffed you, so you could use the bathroom and take a shower. You didn’t want to cause her trouble. If Hoyt could do what he did to Monty, you didn’t even want to imagine what fate awaited Luda if you ran away because of her.

*

“I know it must be borin’ to stay in that room all day alone, darlin’.” Luda Mae said as she washed the dishes in the kitchen. You were standing next to her, leaning on the wall.

“Would you mind helpin’ me around the house today?” Luda Mae looked at you and raised her eyebrow.

“Of course, anything.” You replied and smiled at her. How could you say no to her? And so you spent the day cleaning the house with Luda. Honestly, it was for your own good as well, because from the first time you arrived you’ve thought that the house is really filthy. However, you understood that Luda was already an older woman, and the house was huge, so it must’ve been hard for her to be the only one taking care of the household.

*

You were proud of yourself when you finished. Even Monty seemed to approve of your hard work.

“Good work, m’dear!” Luda cheerfully announced when she looked around the now clean living room. The feelings creeping on you this morning were gone, and you felt more like an actual human being rather than a piece of meat again. You weren’t cuffed, and you basically spent some family time with Luda and Monty. Your moment of happiness was abruptly interrupted by the sound of an arriving car. It was Hoyt, and when you looked closely out of the window, it seemed that he wasn’t alone. There were two guys and a girl with him in the car. Luda quickly pushed you up the stairs to make sure Hoyt doesn’t see you. You rushed to your room and looked out of the window. Apparently, Hoyt locked them in the car because he came to the porch alone. Luda opened the door and let him in. He didn’t even realize how clean the house was. He just went straight to the basement door to summon Thomas.

“Come on, Tommy, move yer ass and help me out here!” he shouted and then walked back to the car. You were still looking out of the window but concentrated on the noises coming from downstairs as well. Hoyt opened the door for the girl sitting in a passenger seat and let the guys out of the car too. They seemed okay, and Hoyt was actually polite? You didn’t understand the scene unfolding before your eyes. And then he saw you. One of the boys looked up, and he saw you staring at them from the window. But before he could do anything, Hoyt grabbed the girl and pointed a gun to her head. Both guys were visibly shocked. They genuinely believed he was a sheriff helping them until this point. Then you heard loud footsteps, and Thomas stormed out of the house with a chainsaw in his hand. The guys tried to run away, but Hoyt shot one of them to his calf. The other turned around to help his friend, but only a bullet to his shoulder awaited him. Thomas grabbed one of the wounded guys and threw him on his shoulder, and then he disappeared into the house. You figured he took him to the basement. Hoyt took the redhaired girl into the house too, and the guy who has been shot to his leg was crawling in pain away from the house. He was desperately slow. You heard screams of the girl and Hoyt’s footsteps as he struggled to bring her up the stairs to his room. You quietly went to the door and peeked out as you opened them. Hoyt didn’t notice as he was too busy with the girl who was screaming and kicking everywhere around herself. But she saw you.

“Help me! Please, you, help me!” she stared at you with despair in her eyes as she tried to get out of Hoyt’s grip. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively closed the door. You covered your ears in a futile attempt to prevent the girl’s voice from reaching you. You knew well what awaited her with Hoyt. Meanwhile, Thomas got the other guy who tried crawling again. And that was it, you couldn’t see anything else, and you could only think about what was happening in the house. The girl’s screams didn’t fade at all, and the revving of the chainsaw was piercing your ears as well.  You wanted it to end finally, but then you heard a loud thump as the basement door burst open, and Luda’s voice echoed in the living room as she was screaming Thomas’s name.

“Tommy! Hoyt! Hoyt, come down!”

You opened the door again and stepped out of the room. The girl was still screaming, and Hoyt was nowhere to be seen. He probably didn’t hear Luda. You couldn’t hear Luda as well now. You braced yourself for the worst outcome as you ran down the stairs only to find Luda tied up to a chair with a rug in her mouth.

You gasped… what was happening? Then you saw him, the guy who has been shot in his shoulder standing in the kitchen with a bloodied knife, Thomas nowhere to be found.

a/n:  Now what, you and another victim together in a kitchen... I am sorry for the cliff hanger, but the chapter would be too long, but I am in the mood for writing, so will post the next chapter tomorrow.

[yolo1650]

Animal Crossing One Shot- Ten Star Rating (BobxReader)

Summary: Getting that perfect island turns out to be a lot harder than it looks.

Word Count: 1498

Warnings: No warnings here, it’s basically rated G, just two cute people, being cute together

——————————————————————————

Feeling nothing but a heavy sense of defeat, you closed the doors of the Resident Service building behind you. With the sun still high in the sky, there was still many hours of daylight left, precious hours that could be spend planting, refurnishing, terra-forming.  

But all you could feel was the aching in your legs, clearly overworked by all the running around you did this morning. They couldn’t help but buckle beneath you. Giving in, you sat down at the center of the plaza, face in your palms, as you remembered Isabelle's advice.  

"Let's get more greenery on this island by planting fruit and saplings. When it comes to tree varieties, we should really branch out!"

Your jaw clenched. While Isabelle's corny joke came from a kind-hearted place, it did nothing to cheer you up from your predicament.  

Last time it was too many trees, and too little flowers. Now that I've spent the whole morning planting more flowers, you're telling me there's not enough trees?

At this rate, you many never get your island to a five star rating.  

Then, you heard someone yelling, their voice getting louder as they got closer to you.  

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyy!"

You felt Bob's shadow cast over you, giving you momentary relief from the afternoon sun.  

"Hey Bob."

His shadow moved, and with it, his footsteps as its pattering sounds circled around you. Even with your eyes covered, you could still vividly see Bob's wide, carefree smile, and his arms outstretched like an airplane.  

"The island looks great today! On my way here I stopped like, five times to smell all of the pretty flowers! Or was it more like three times? I kind of stopped counting after two, pthhpth."

Taking your face out of your hands, you leaned your cheek against one of your palms and did nothing to mask your exhaustion and disappointment.  

"Still not good enough to get a good island rating though."

Bob stilled. Taking quick glances between you and the Resident Service building, he began to understand.  

"Oh."

After taking a seat next to you, you look over to his uncharacteristically somber face.  

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Great now you messed up his groove. One of the happiest, most carefree villager is sulking because of you. Maybe it was better if you just got up and left, you should have never left your house in the first place.  

But Bob beat you to it. Standing up with what seems to be renewed energy, he ran back to his house. You didn't have to wait long before hearing your name being shouted in the distance, its volume gradually increasing.  When Bob came back his typical ear-to-ear smile was as well. He was also holding onto a medium sized canvas. With outstretched arms, he presented it exclaiming,

"Here! I gotta lil' something for ya!"

After getting up and dusting off your pants, you took the unexpected gift from his hands. Your eyebrows were raised high in astonishment. Pleased at your reaction, Bob shyly looked away while rubbing the back of his neck.  

"But it's probably nothing compared to what you've done for the island so far."

As you examined the painting you weren't sure how to feel about it at first. Anyone back at your hometown would recognize immediately that this gift was clearly not your style. While you preferred romantic style oil paintings, the piece before you had to be best described as the work of a child. Abstract and sloppy, no distinct line art, and distinct brush strokes. That last part was the most peculiar to you. Did he use cotton balls to paint this?

You took a step back and looked at the piece again as a whole. Once you did, you felt a smile creep up on your face. This painting was clearly made with you in mind, as not only were you the subject, but you were surrounded by all of the things you loved on this island. The foreground was adorned with your favorite flowers, the background was the island's serene coast, and you were wearing your favorite outfit.

The colors were the most impressive, in your opinion. They were so spot on that just looking at it alone made you feel like you were right there, hearing the crashing waves. He even got your eye color at just the right shade, and remembered to add your dimples to your smile.  

You found it difficult to contain your excitement.  

"Wow! Bob, this is amazing! And you painted it? I didn't know you liked to paint!"

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, I like to do all sorts of drawing." Lost in thought, he started leaning back and forth between the balls of his feet and his heels. "But I especially looooooove finger painting! It's like ya got super powers 'cause everything you touch changes color!"

You chuckled. Paw prints, that explained the strange brush strokes.  

"How'd you know my favorite spot on the island was the beach?" You asked.

Bob simply shrugged as he replied, "You're just there so often, I sorta figured it was like, your natural habitat or something, pthhpth."

"What about my clothes?"

He looked away briefly before clearing his throat to answer. "I, uh, always thought you looked the prettiest when you wore those." He couldn't help but blush a little. "Just 'cause you always smiled more when you wore those."  

You then felt your own face heat up.  

"A-and what about the flowers? How'd you know these were my favorite?"

"Oh, those? You were always buying those from Lief every time he comes over." His eyes glanced up in thought as he continued.  

"At first I was thinking what made these flowers so special? You already had so many different flowers in your own garden. So then I bought a pot of my own, and boy do they smell deeelicious! They reminded me so much of you so of course I had to put it here, pthhpth!"

You tried to give a polite smile to match Bob's beaming face. But you weren't too sure how to take that compliment, if it even was one. Was he saying you were like a snack? Does he snack on flowers?

You decided not to dwell on it too much.  

Now when you looked back at the painting, it was as if it completely transformed before your eyes during the short length of your conversation with Bob. What was once sloppy, thick brush strokes were now intentional, and authentic. What was once meaningless shapes of abstraction have now turned into a thoughtful presentation of who you were in the mind of Bob.  

It was all so touching, you might have started tearing up a little.  

You tightly wrapped your arms around Bob.  

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this right now."

He eagerly hugged you back.  

"Like I said, it's nothing." His lips curled into a bashful smile.  

Releasing each other from your embrace, you were surprised to see that somber expression return to his face. His brows furrowed in frustration.  

"I don't know who's judging these islands, but if I were them, I'd give you a ten star rating just because you worked so hard on it!"

You didn't have the heart to tell him that island ratings only went up to five.  

Bob continued on. Pride and determination lighting his eyes as he placed his paws on his hips.  

"I might even throw in a prize, like a day off, or a life-time supply of brownies!" A nervous chuckle bubbled out of him as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, actually, that last part might be more of a prize for me than for you."

Now that he mentions it, you really do deserve a day-off, heck, maybe even a week-off. You put so much work into this island, it was only natural that you needed a break to regain your strength. Then, you'll be sure to get that five star rating!

You grabbed Bob's paw and headed towards the direction to your house.  

"It's been a while since we hanged out, huh? Well then let's go to my place for lunch," you said.  

"Really?!" Now it was Bob's turn to look surprised. Free food always got him excited.  

"Yeah!" You smiled. "Think of it as thanks for the painting."

"Sounds great!" Bob had already skipped on ahead of you, his face radiant. "Race ya!"

"Wait, Bob! My legs are still killing me from this morning, can you-"

Too late. With arms outstretched, Bob zig-zagged his way towards your house, already leagues ahead of you. For a guy who was always hungry, he sure did have boundless amounts of energy.  

You shook your head to yourself and smiled. Taking one last look at your painting before trudging along, you were already thinking of how to best frame it. You loved how brilliant it looked in the natural light. A nice spot by the window would be perfect.  

——————————————————————————

This was requested by @teagibs I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long :’-)

Please bear in mind that I’m still in school, so if anyone else has made a request, or would like to request something, it might be a while. I will also be doing requests in the order they come in. 

On another note, this was a lot of fun! Bob is one of my favorites, so I hope I did him justice. I currently have another one shot in the works (not a request), and ya’ll better brace yourself, cause it’s gonna be a dooozy...

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Ray Stantz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Ray when you were both still working at the University. You worked down the hall from him and would run into him frequently.

- In the mornings, the two of you would arrive at the same time and he’d open the door for you. You’d make small talk whenever you ended up in the same room or walking in the same direction and he was always willing to lend you something; or a hand, if you needed it. You didn’t know him incredibly well but you did know that he was a sweet guy.

- Ray had a major crush on you. He pretty much fell for you the moment he saw you but his own insecurities kept him from trying to do anything about it. You were smart, gorgeous, and had an amazing personality. What would you want with him?

- It takes him a while to actually ask you out. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should, wondering if he’s willing to make a fool of himself just for the off chance that you’ll agree. Peter has a field day with him when he’s in this state, constantly teasing and prodding, urging him to just get it over with and see what you say.

- There was definitely a few instances of him approaching you and/or opening his mouth to say something to you, then quickly shutting it and excusing himself with an apology. It takes him nearly a year to actually go through with it.

- You were just leaving the building and preparing for your walk home when he caught up with you and somewhat shyly asked if you would like to have dinner with him sometime. To his utter shock, you smiled and agreed, and the two of you made plans to meet.

- The two of you went out to a not so fancy restaurant which was perfect for the occasion. He felt like he was walking on clouds the entire night; here he was, with you, and you actually seemed to like him. What were the odds that you would actually like him?

- But regardless of his disbelief over how lucky he was, the two of you had a really great time together and you were happy to see him again the next day at the university.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. He was walking you home and you were both stood in front of your door, saying goodbye. You were just about to walk inside when you paused, turning around and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before saying goodnight again and closing your door.

- He was frozen in shock for a good minute and a half but you should have seen the smile on his face.

- It wasn’t long before the two of you considered yourselves a couple, and he couldn’t have been happier.

- Ray is a big sweetheart and you can’t convince me otherwise, though I doubt you would even try. You’ll never meet another man who treats you so right.

- He loves Pda, especially when people recognize him in public. He feels particularly cool with you hanging on his arm.

- Quick giddy kisses. 

- He keeps his hand on your lower back whenever you’re standing together, it’s just a habit of his. 

- He likes using nicknames; he thinks they’re cute. He usually just calls you things like honey, sweetheart, and beautiful; he’s somewhat old fashioned in that regard. He wouldn’t even mind you calling him pet names. In fact, he’d probably love it. 

- He’s a strong boy and proud of it! Ask him to hold something! Ask him to open a pickle jar! Ask him to carry you! He’s got it covered! …Although, occasionally he wont be able to open the pickle jar and you might actually show him up when trying it again for yourself. 

- Cheek kisses. He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you in, pressing his lips to your cheek enthusiastically and smiling down at you.

- Stealing his sweaters. They’re big and cozy and he melts every time he sees you wearing them.

- Takeout meals. You order in or pick something up at least once a week.

- He’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself so the two of you always have a great time together, filled with jokes and stupid/ridiculous behavior. He loves being able to make you laugh. 

- Cuddling? Sign him the fuck up! No matter what you’re doing, he’ll find a way to squeeze himself beside you and wrap himself around you in some way. Whenever you’re going to bed, you’ll rest your head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you; …or you’ll just be laying almost completely on top of him. 

- A lot of your dates are going to be interrupted, it just sort of comes with the territory. When something strange is in the neighborhood, he’s the one being called so you just have to be patient and understanding. He always makes it up to you anyway.

- Occasionally, he’ll stop and pick up flowers or a movie you’ve been wanting to see from the rental place on his way home. He likes surprising you with something nice, especially if he was called away when you were supposed to spend time together.

- Becoming close with Egon, Winston and Peter. You see them constantly so it’s sort of hard not to.

- Sticking by his side and cheering him up when the Ghostbusters aren’t too popular anymore. 

- You may or may not be a partial owner of the bookshop. As much as he loves being a Ghostbuster, he can’t deny that he likes running the place with you. 

- He’s always there if you need someone to get you something or somewhere. He’s particularly good at pushing through crowds and coming up with things to say that will make it easier for you to do what you have to do. He also just doesn’t take no for an answer so, ya know. 

- He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. You can always convince him to do something for you.

- Ray looks like he knows how to fix things. He looks and acts like a man I could trust with my things. If my car broke down, his smiling face would be the one I would ask to help me. So, if you need anything fixed around your house, all you have to do is ask. 

- Little traditions. Things like watching a specific show after dinner, going to a certain place every weekend or eating certain things on certain days. 

- He loves hugs, they’re pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.

- Random playful harassment. He kind of likes to tease you, jokingly making fun of and tickling you. He thinks the way you react is cute and it’s usually after you do or say something to him so technically it’s revenge. 

- Now, I’m not saying that Ray owns action figures or other toys of that nature, but Ray would definitely be the type to own them.... You may or may not have a little shelf full of figures when you move in together. 

- He’s a big fan of going to zoos. You practically know the animals at your local zoo by name from how many times you go to see them. 

- Carnival and amusement park dates. 

- He gets this dopey smile on his face whenever you try to give him a massage or dote on him in anyway. He’s just so overjoyed that you actually like him and care about his wellbeing. He also just loves the feeling of your hands. 

- Ray sort of craves domesticity. Seeing you wearing one of his shirts and cooking breakfast or being there to welcome him home after work or surprising him by doing some chores would literally make him melt. He’s a centimeter away from proposing to you on the spot.

- The two of you are pretty much the epitome of two best friends dating. You have the time of your lives together and are always completely comfortable and happy in each others presences. 

- Walking around New York together. You wind up just wandering around the city a lot, occasionally stopping for food or drinks or whatever comes to mind when you pass a store. 

- He isn’t the most sensitive person to talk to when you’re upset or scared about something but he apologizes when he goes off on a tangent or says the wrong thing. Don’t blame him too much, he’s got a skewed view of what’s considered a problem rather than a good scientific discovery. 

- Ray gets easily excited about a lot of things, he’s sort of like a puppy at times so even though you might not be so amused with a situation, he’ll be incredibly happy. Whenever he notices that you aren’t thrilled, he’ll usually just give you a sheepish smile and a “sorry honey”. 

- Having him randomly show up and borderline embarrass you when something big is found out. Just picture the restaurant scene from the second movie.

- Visiting him at the office. 

- Letting him gush to you about the paranormal and supernatural. 

- Helping him with his research, experiments, and invention. He loves having you around and hearing your input.  

- He’s definitely named something after you, whether it be a theory, project or machine he’s created. It’s cute, in a geeky sort of way. 

- Be prepared to get scared and not just by ghosts. Sometimes Ray will just pop into view out of nowhere, excitedly talking about something he just saw and scaring the living daylights out of you. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, did he do something wrong? 

- He works with all things supernatural and paranormal; he’s seen a lot over the years and because of that, he’s gradually gotten more and more protective of you over time. Wouldn’t you if you knew that evil slime once ran wild underneath your girlfriends apartment? 

- He gets particularly miffed when jealous, not livid or angry just …miffed. You know he’s not upset with you but you can tell that something is bothering him. Occasionally, you won’t even have to figure out what because he’ll insult whoever he’s jealous of like he’s talking about the weather. 

- The two of you don’t really fight all too often, you rarely have a reason too, even though your lives are incredibly hectic most of the time. He doesn’t really have one certain way of responding when he’s angry, everything depend on the situation. One day, you’ll bicker, the next, you’ll yell.

- He always feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Almost immediately after he storms out, he’ll get this pang of guilt in his chest and debate on whether or not he should just walk back in and apologize. He usually doesn’t right then; wanting to give you time to yourself, but does come back not very long after and apologizes, admitting he was wrong if he was and asking if things are alright between the two of you.

- He’s always happy to say he loves you, and gosh does he love hearing you say it.

- Your family probably loves him. He’s a guy that’s easy to get along with …and he’s a ghostbuster so he’s got that going for him.

- Ray is sooo ready to have kids and settle down with you, he’s just waiting until he’s in a more stable work environment. He doesn’t need any ghosties lurking in your kids nursery, even if he’s the most equipped to get rid of them.

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Fool For You (1/4)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Description: You are head over heels in love with the youngest Sinclair, but he could not be more oblivious to your feelings. 

A/N: Thanks to @mynameisliterallycash for the request! I was hitting a wall with writing, but this helped get the gears turning again! I hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoy! 

The sun streaming through your window roused you from a steady slumber. You groaned, stretching out your limbs until you finally collapsed back onto the mattress with a sigh. The sleep from your eyes cleared as you thought of the dream you had last night. Your heart raced remembering the way he took you in his arms and finally said he loved you too. You were so happy you could cry and now you could almost cry at realizing it was just another dream. He seemed to be all that occupied your thoughts: Lester Sinclair.

Lester was all you had energy for these days. If you weren’t with him, you were thinking about when you’d see him again. Even your dream world revolved around him as he’d made an appearance almost every night lately. You were like a damn schoolgirl; and it was as exhilarating as it was humiliating. You thought you were past the days of pining over boys, but here you were.

Slowly, you’d fallen head-over-heels for the man. His self-effacing humor, kind heart, and generous nature won you over so effortlessly. You didn’t even realize where you were headed until your little crush became an intense, desperate love for you closest friend. It practically consumed you.

It wouldn’t be so bad if Lester would just put you out of your misery. Falling in love with him was incredibly easy, but telling him was the biggest pain in your ass since Bo Sinclair.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. You tried hundreds of different ways – of varying levels of subtlety – to tell him how you feel. Extra physical affection? Nothing. Complimenting him on literally everything? Nothing. Baking treats specifically for him? Nothing. Asking him if he’d ever been in love before? Not a damn thing. You were running out of ways to get your point across.

Even if he didn’t notice the romantic intentions, he was always so receptive and enthusiastic, you couldn’t be upset for too long. Being a touch-oriented person by nature, he welcomed the extra hugs, squeezing you to your heart’s content. Your compliments always made him blush and he’d pay you back with as much flattery and twice the charm. After every treat you baked, he carved you thoughtful trinkets from wood and bone. And when you asked him about being in love, he lit up as he rambled on about a dog he met that confirmed for him the existence of true love. God, he was a goofball. You loved him so much.

At this point, you were vacillating between whether you should tell him at all, since everything you tried seemed to go over his head. You weren’t even sure he liked you back. Sometimes, you thought he might, but he was so nice to everyone, it was hard to tell. Maybe he really didn’t notice, or he did and he was trying not to hurt your feelings. Both were possibilities, but you sincerely hoped it was the former. But how could he not get it? Maybe you were better off as friends. It’d probably be easier.

You looked at the clock, realizing you would have to put your pity party on hold. Though the smallest part of you wanted to stay in bed and return to your dreamland where you knew Lester loved you back, you’d much rather spend all the time you could with him in the real world. You had plans to go to town with Lester to pick up more dog food. When he asked you if you wanted to tag along for his day off, you jumped at the chance to go with him. Anything for a few more hours together.

Once you got cleaned up and dressed, you jogged down the stairs and straight to the front door. You took a seat on the bottom step of the porch to wait for Lester to come pick you up. A shiver ran through your body, adjusting to the chilly breeze. You looked up at the sky to find it overcast, matching your mood. You wondered if it would rain.

You heard the door open and shut, followed by heavy steps down the stairs. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Waitin’ for Lester to pick you up for your date?” Bo prodded, taking a sip from his coffee mug.

“It’s not a date.” You sighed, too caught up in your thoughts to fight with Bo.

“But you want it to be, don’t you?” He snorted, “You’ve had it bad for him for how long now?”

“Can’t you just go on to work without harassing me? Be nice for once and go away.” you asked, finally looking up at him to meet his classic smirk.

“Look, kid, if you wanna get anywhere with Lester, you’re gonna have to spell it out for him.” Bo advised, “God love him, but there’s nothin’ in his head. Plus, he’s dumb as a sack of hammers when it comes to women and sex.”

“Stop it.” You snapped, “Lester’s not stupid. And I don’t remember asking for your advice.”

“Well, you need it.” Bo interjected, “But if you wanna keep pussyfooting around and die alone, that’s your God given right.”

“Truly inspiring.” You said sarcastically, “You should become a life coach.”

“Thought about it, pay was shit though.” Bo quipped without missing a beat. He gave you a soft kick on the leg as his best attempt at comfort, before finally granting your wish for him to leave. He hopped in his truck and took off down the hill.  

You thought about what Bo told you. Maybe you should just come out with it already. You tried everything short of saying what you actually meant. You knew that being open and direct was the best way forward, but it would undoubtedly change things between you and Lester – for better or worse. You just dreaded the thought that after you finally told him everything, he simply wouldn’t feel the same. The idea of rejection, especially coming from him, was utterly terrifying. You didn’t think you could handle it if he were to start icing you out. You didn’t want to lose any part of him. Maybe you should have stayed in bed after all.

“Hello, Y/N? Anybody alive in there?”  

You gasped as your heart jolted and you snapped to attention. You looked up to see Lester chuckling at your expense. Even as your heartrate slowed, you felt it stutter at his laughter.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Les!” you said with a playful shove, feigning annoyance –your smile betraying you.

“I didn’t mean to spook ya! But I’ve been callin’ your name for two minutes.” Lester told you, “Ya sure were thinkin’ hard ‘bout whatever it was. Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Sorry, I think I’m still waking up.” You excused, adding a fake yawn to really sell it. Lester smiles wide at you, suspecting nothing.

“Well, wake on up then, we got places to be!” Lester said as he offered his hand to pull you up from the stairs. You happily took it and he hoisted you up with ease. Your eyes darted where your hands met as his touch sent sparks through your arm and into your chest. Now, you were just plain staring. He innocently tilted his head, “Ya sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you said quickly, releasing his hand. “Come on, I’ll race you to the truck! Last one there has to do all the heavy lifting!”

Lester broke into a sprint without a warning. You wondered how he always seemed to have so much energy at all hours of the day as you struggled to catch up with him.

He made it to the truck first by a long shot. He just smiled when you finally made it, not bothering to gloat. Both of you couldn’t help but laugh as you fought to catch your breath.

“Guess, I win.” Lester said simply

“I’m getting too old for this.” you said as you leaned against the truck for support.

“Oh, you’re never too old for a little fun.” Lester replied clapping you on the back, “’Sides, you’re awake now, ain’t ya?”

“Won’t be for long, if I black out from exhaustion.” You fired back dramatically, “You’re going to have to go on without me.”

“Hey, c’mon now, ya gotta go with me to carry all that dog food. Ya ain’t gettin’ outta this one, drama queen.” Lester played along.

“Vision going dark…legs too weak! Goodbye, cruel world!” you cried out with an exaggerated hand over your face. You made a show of stumbling around like you were about to faint, imitating all the terrible soap operas you caught on television. You wrapped your arms around Lester and made your legs limp, forcing him to support you as he laughed at your antics, “Remember me as I was: unwilling to carry everything by myself.”

“Alright, fine!” Lester agreed as he adjusted you in his grasp so he could look back at you. Your act faltered as you looked up into his warm whiskey stare, savoring the feeling of his arms around you, sturdy and gentle. “I s’pose I’ll help ya out a little. Guess it’s only fair since ya let me win and all.”

“Why, yes, of course, that is exactly what happened. Me, the true winner. I let you win, correct. That was the master plan.” You said, every word dripping with sarcasm. You stood back up, separating yourself from his embrace despite wanting nothing more than to stay that way forever.

“Yes ma’am! Ya coulda left me in the dust, alright, but ya didn’t. Thanks for takin’ it easy on me.” Lester said with a wink and a nudge as he made his way to the driver side of the truck. There he goes again with that unrelenting kindheartedness, “Well, hop in then! We’re burnin’ daylight!”

You opened the passenger door and got in next to Lester. You couldn’t help but look at him from the corner of your eye as he got settled and started the engine. He started driving down the road. You wondered how it was possible no one else had fallen in love with him the way you had so easily. Maybe many already did and they also failed to tell him.

You turned to look at him straight on, while his eyes were on the road. You could feel a fond smile pulling at your cheeks as you gazed at him. He had such an ease about him, you thought he looked so handsome without even trying.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” Lester asked, cocking an eyebrow as he looked back at you, “What are ya lookin’ at me like that for?”

“Huh?” you said cluelessly. You had been caught staring again.

“Did I leave the house with a milk moustache or somethin’?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror to check himself, “Do I got a snot bubble?”

“No, you’re good.” You said, chuckling as you propped your head against your hand by the window. You kept looking at him, practically feeling the hearts flying out of your eyes.

“Whew, had me worried there for a second.”

“Sorry, about that.” You said with a smile, facing front once more.

“Don’t be, I get it, what with my devilish good looks and all.” Lester joked with a hearty laugh, sitting back without another thought. You looked back at him, holding back a sigh of disbelief. He didn’t know the half of it.

You leaned over to turn on the radio hoping some music would ease the tension you were feeling, even though you were sure Lester hadn’t noticed. He was delightfully oblivious to your plight. You heard the beginning of a steady, soft guitar. You immediately recognize the song, internally cursing the irony of it all.

I find it very, very easy to be true I find myself alone when each day is through Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you Because you're mine, I walk the line

Even Johnny Cash could see right through you. As much as you wanted to be irritated with fate, every line perfectly summed up your feelings for Lester. You glanced at him, thinking about how there was no one else in the world who was as right for you. He was just like the song itself; soft and stable.

“You know, I really love this song.” You said hopefully, “Romantic, don’t you think?”

“Sure is,” Lester agreed, with an excited smile and glance in your direction, “But hell if Folsom Prison Blues ain’t one of the best damn songs ever written. That’s my favorite!”

“Oh…that one’s definitely great too.” You said with a small drop of your shoulders. You should have known better than to think that would go anywhere. You straighten up again, giving it another shot, “I Walk the Line just makes me wish I could find the Johnny to my June.”

“Aw, don’t worry about that, none. Won’t be too long ‘fore that happens. I’m surprised none of them bigshot city boys ain’t snatched ya up yet. Guess most of ‘em are just plain stupid. Hell, they gotta be if they ain’t fallin’ over themselves to get a ring on ya.” Lester hyped you up, looking at you, genuine as ever.

“I don’t think I want anyone like that.” You said, “Guys like that really aren’t my type.”

“Well, whoever ya do end up with is gonna be one lucky son of a gun, I’ll tell ya that much.” Lester declared with the utmost certainty.

“I think I’d want him to be like you.” You told him pointedly, scooting closer. Lester gaped, a huge grin still shining through the skepticism.

“Me? Shoot, ya gotta be kiddin’. No way! Ya don’t wanna shack up with a fella like me!” Lester denied with a wave of his hand, clearly amused but not entertaining the notion. He was sure you must be joking.

"Why not?” You asked, “You’re funny, helpful, incredibly reliable, thoughtful, patient, kind. You’re the real deal! Plus, you know everything about everything there is to know about animals. I’m always learning something when I’m with you.”

“Shucks, you’re gonna make me blush,” Lester chuckled, sending you a humble smile as he rubbed his neck, “I don’t know everythin’, but you’re real sweet for sayin’ so. ‘Sides, I don’t think there’re too many ladies that wanna hear me rattlin’ on ‘bout critters and whatnot.”

“Don’t be so sure.” You told him, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Well, if ya happen to run into anybody ya think won’t mind if I set the mood with a little roadkill, ya send ‘em my way, alright!” Lester told you, slapping his knee. After he finished laughing at himself, he piped up, “You know who I’d marry if I could?”

“Who?” you asked, your heart stopping in its tracks.

“Dolly Parton! Whew that woman sure is somethin’!” Lester told you with a dreamy shake of his head.

You let out a soft sigh as you scooted back to your side; hiding your disappointment by looking out the window. Suddenly, Ring of Fire seemed more appropriate since loving Lester was starting to burn like hell. Even so, you were still charmed by his unrestrained joy as he started whistling along with the radio, totally oblivious to the way your fond smile overtook your features.