#docking drawer

[skinnybitchkabs]

Baltimore Great Room Kitchen Open concept kitchen - large transitional u-shaped medium tone wood floor open concept kitchen idea with a single-bowl sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, marble countertops, white backsplash, porcelain backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops

[emileehartman]

Transitional Bathroom - Bathroom Bathroom - mid-sized transitional master gray tile and porcelain tile porcelain tile bathroom idea with shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, gray walls, an undermount sink and quartz countertops

[misstel]

Transitional Bathroom in Chicago

Mid-sized transitional master bathroom with gray and porcelain tiles Porcelain tile bathroom design idea with quartz countertops, shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, gray walls, and the like.

[gatsbycodes]

Tampa Home Office Study Remodeling ideas for a study room with a medium-toned wood floor and a mid-sized contemporary built-in desk

[glitter-studs]

Study in Columbus Example of a small transitional medium tone wood floor and brown floor study room design with gray walls

[girls-idols]

Pantry Raleigh Remodeling ideas for a medium-sized modern l-shaped kitchen pantry with a medium-tone wood floor and brown walls, a single-bowl sink, flat-panel cabinets, medium-tone wood cabinets, quartzite countertops, a beige backsplash, a ceramic backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, and white countertops.

[fauvester]

absolutely in love with the cardassian babies

they DO purr and they DO knead and they DO have tails and they LOVE the baby sling

THE CHILDREN, THEY LONG FOR THE SLING!!

Oouuuuh in my head they're just like lizardly cats. Little guys that want to stay warm and comfy. Unfortunately they do get very sharp hard claws pretty early on and it's hard to stay on top of trimming them!

All those evolutionarily adorable instincts probably disappear eventually, but maybe as a treat we can say that they re-emerge uncontrollably in a narrow range of situations like extreme satisfaction and comfort.

[imagine-your-nonhuman-fo]

Werewolf f/o who's almost got a service dog thing going on just from the months or years of being around you, it's not something either of you did intentionally but they pick up on things before you even do

So when they wake up in the morning they already know something is wrong; you had been vocal about some pain when you both got home but the way you wobble when you try to get up is new; you push up to get up and immediately fall back onto the bed because of the way your legs just feel like jelly that's being stabbed

They almost want to insist you stay in bed, but that damned cheap bed isn't good on your back and hurts your sides, so laying in it may do more harm than good, instead they grab your favorite chair and make sure your desk is set up nice that you have the TV or your laptop nearby, the desk snack drawer is full and than depending on what you want to do they help you to the chair, either they scoop you up because you want to be carried, or they just offer a hand as you try to slowly go yourself they just stay nearby in case your legs want to give out again.

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

They’re something you take for granted in elementary school but now as an adult? I DO appreciate a good clipboard. It is NICE to have a sturdy writing surface to walk around with. And when it holds a writing utensil well? 😘👌

[ultfreakme]

I hope the Zuko movie opens with Mai and Zuko getting married, but you can just tell something is wrong. They’re smiling and greeting guests but there’s this distance between them. Cut to Mai, and she’s thinking about right before the wedding and Ty Lee is helping her get into her wedding clothes.

And Ty Lee’s like “I bet married life’s going to look great on you.” Mai just gives her a look, initially it seems cold, impassive, but then she frowns and Ty Lee giggles and says “You make a beautiful bride.” Mai’s brows furrow and all that, “You don’t have to lie.” Ty Lee; “I’m not lying, you’re beautiful, always were”. And then they lean closer and closer, eyes hooded and right when you think their lips are about to brush the door of the dressing room opens and Mai’s mom comes in and she fixes up Mai’s clothes and checks on everything. She’s like “Don’t mess this up.” Mai says “I won’t, obviously, what’s there to mess up?” AND SHE’S LOOKING RIGHT AT TY LEE.

The wedding’s done, but the Fire Lady is in love with a Kyoshi Warrior who is her personal guard and the entire thing is about them realizing no fuck this we’re done(Zuko knows okay he knows, or he eventually finds out but his ain’t about him).

(eventual divorce, mailee elope, Zuko’s like ‘I should’ve seen this coming’. Gaang, everyone in the FN court and Azula who saw this coming miles away: ‘I’m not gonna say anything’)

[marmolita]

today I bought a fully functional CD and cassette player at goodwill and I'm so fucking pumped about it like it's 1993 or something 🥲

anyway here's my story about the one singular cassette tape I own! When I was a kid I was a big fan of a local children's singer named Dan Crow. He had these great catchy songs about grammar, and if you know me it should not surprise you at all that I grew up listening to songs about grammar, so as an adult I looked him up and bought some mp3's from his website of some of my favorites.

However, I couldn't find one of my favorite songs, so I emailed him at the address on his website as a long shot, and guess what! He replied! It turns out that particular song was only recorded on the album that I had as a child, and that album was never fully digitized, so I couldn't buy an mp3.

BUT

He had a pile of old tapes still sitting around and mailed me one! This was in 2013, so ten years ago now. The album, Thunderwear, is from 1987. Anyway, he mailed me this tape and at the time we still had a 2001 Honda Civic which had a tape deck, so I was able to finally listen to the song I hadn't heard in ages!

But sadly the Civic eventually got to the point of costing more to repair than it was worth, so a few years back we replaced it with a newer car, and the tape deck was no more. My Thunderwear tape has been sitting in a drawer ever since, waiting for me to get my act together and idk pay someone to rip it to mp3 for me or something.

Until now! I got this CD/tape/radio boombox at goodwill for $10 because I wanted my kid to be able to play her music from her cheap mp3 player I got her on a speaker, and this thing had an aux input. And the tape deck works!! Now my kids can listen to this great kids album full of some of my fave childhood songs in addition to their own set of favorite songs. ♥️♥️♥️

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

............

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

...............

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

pt 3

[short-honey-badger]

Miss Twilight 4

You arrive at Buggy Town and catch up with Crocodile

*things get even more steamy! The next chapter will be the final one to this mini story!*

Part 1 -> HERE Part 2 -> HERE Part 3 -> HERE Finale -> HERE

Crocodile stands on the docks outside of Buggy Town. There is movement all around him, the men under the Cross Guild working to get the latest navy ship repainted and refitted for their own purposes. They would have even more work in the coming hours. You’d rang Crocodile again and told him that you were around two hours out from the island and that you expected him to be there waiting for you. He’d snickered at your order but had easily agreed.

Now he stood at the edge, watching as a navy vessel drifted closer and closer to the docks. If he squinted, he could see several figures at the bow of the ship, and he couldn’t help but shift his weight in anticipation. You were almost here, and then he could sweep you away.

Finally, the ship slides up to the docks and weighs anchor, the ramp coming down to bang against the wood. He waits impatiently for you to disembark, and his lips curl up in a welcoming smirk when he sees you waltz down the plank like you owned the place. Miss Goldenweek and several other pirates follow you down, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. His focus is on you and you alone.

Your face hurts even as you grin up at your boss, coming to a stop in front of the devil fruit user. Buggy is already welcoming in the other pirates, his crew directing them on where to go. Mihawk is nowhere to be seen, though Crocodile knows that the other man is probably waiting in his office already. He frowns as he takes you in, hook coming up to rest under your chin and tilt your face this way and that.

“Who did this to you?” He demands quietly. Never had Crocodile seen you so injured before, and it makes rage swell up in his chest at the sight of your bruised and swollen face.

“A pair of marines. It was necessary to my plan, though. It doesn’t hurt that bad anymore,” you say with a shrug, and then give him a mean little grin, “I tossed them overboard after we took over the ship.”

“Mhm, I would have liked to see that,” Crocodile murmurs, and you shrug a shoulder, the smile on your face turning teasing.

“I’m sure you would have, Wani,” you say, and he drops his hook and instead offers his arm to your delight.

“Come along, Miss Twilight. I’ll show you the beginnings of our Utopia.”

After Crocodile leads you through the tent city, he cuts off to the building that housed his office and personal rooms, showing you your own room that was just down the hall from his. He leaves you, and you gladly take the time to take a much needed nap and then freshen up after. As much as you’d wanted to stay with him, it’d been a long couple of days of travel, and you were exhausted by the time he stopped at your room. You feel far better now that you’ve had time to take a shower and change into something a bit more your style. You can’t help but grin madly when you open the closet and see a selection of expensive fabrics in all different colors. You knew that Crocodile had chosen each one of them specifically for you, and it made your heart thump in affection for your boss.

Now dressed in something better than the rags and oversized clothes you’d stolen from the navy, you felt more like yourself. You tame your hair into something decent and slap on a little makeup that you find inside the drawers of your vanity before you leave your room, stomach rumbling in hunger.

You find his office with ease and knock on the door, entering when you hear his deep voice bid you inside. You’re surprised to see Dracule Mihawk in the office, standing to the side of Crocodile’s desk with an unopened bottle of wine tucked under his arm. You step further inside the office and take a seat when your boss bids you to.

“So you’re Miss Twilight,” Mihawk drawls, and you meet his golden eyes, trying not to squirm under the examining gaze that he is looking at you with. The swordsman must not find anything wrong, for he smirks and walks closer to hand you the bottle of wine, “Welcome to the Guild.”

You take the bottle and look at it, curious despite yourself, and find that it’s one of those expensive wines that you would see stocked behind the counter at the bar in Rain Dinner’s. You give him a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

The former warlord hums and steps past you, “You’re welcome. I’ll leave the two of you to enjoy it.”

You watch him walk out the door and then share a look with Crocodile, a smirk on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I see that you’ve made a friend.”

The big man scoffs and rolls his eyes, “We have mutual interests,”

“I’m sure that’s all it is,” you tease, and then soften when your boss just puffs on his cigar, the look on his face vaguely unimpressed. You shift a little awkwardly. It’s been a little over a year since the last time you’d seen him, and that was before he’d been cuffed and carted away to Impel Down. He hadn’t changed, not much anyway, but it was enough to leave you doubting yourself.

Crocodile eyes you from across his desk. He doesn’t like that you look so nervous, but he understands why. He stands from his chair and you track him, eyes never leaving his face as he rounds the desk and stops beside you, the back of his golden hook coming up to rest under your chin like earlier. He meets your eyes, searching your face before he kneels down at your side. Your eyes go wide, and you lick your lips, stomach flipping in nerves.

“You don’t have to look so frightened, my dear,” Crocodile rumbles, and his flesh hand rises to cup the side of your face, holding you in a way that you hadn’t thought him capable of. You give him a small smile, turning your face more into his hold.

“I know, it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you. I feel like I don’t know how to act,” you admit quietly, and the devil fruit user huffs at you. His thumb drags along your jaw and then up to gently tug at your lips. You can’t help but wince a bit. They are still healing from the hit you’d taken to the face.

Crocodile’s brow furrows, and that same rage from earlier feels thick in his chest, “You should have given them to me. I would have made them suffer for this.”

He had planned on sweeping you off your feet and taking you straight to his rooms where he would spend the next several days worshiping you like you deserved. Learning your body piece by piece as he took you apart, but with you injured, Crocodile didn’t want to harm you further.

“I know you would have, Wani,” you murmur, and feeling bold, you turn and press your lips against the palm of his hand, lingering there and watching his purple eyes soften at your affection, “But watching them be eaten by the seakings was just as enjoyable.”

Crocodile hums, lips tugging into a smirk. His long fingers curl under your jaw. He adores your ruthless behavior, and it makes arousal curl hot in his stomach. He is desperate for you but holds himself back for now. He would give you time to heal. Slowly, he pulls away, fingertips trailing along your flesh as he stands and picks up the bottle of wine that Mihawk left behind.

“Come with me. I’ve had the cooks make your favorite,” He says, and you stand to follow him out of his office and to the private dining room on the floor below this one. You can’t help but feel all gooey and soft inside, cheek flushing darker at the thought of Crocodile knowing what you like.

That feeling intensifies when your boss pulls out your chair for you and pops the bottle of wine, pouring the both of you a generous glass before he sits in the spot across from you. Food is already laid out on the table, and you have a hard time not immediately digging in. You politely wait for Crocodile to begin before you take up your fork and start eating.

Before you know it, conversation is flowing like the two of you had never been apart for over a year. Crocodile regales you with his tale of escaping Impel Down and the fight with the navy afterward. You congratulate him on the creation of the Cross Guild, for you knew that Buggy the Clown wouldn’t be innovative enough to pull something like this even if he is the face of the organization. He asks about your capture, and you roll your eyes at yourself.

“After I heard about the Cross Guild, I knew that then would be a good time to show back up. That I could be useful to you, but I slipped up. I snuck on board dressed as a marine, and the Vice-Admiral didn’t recognize me. I didn’t know that he’d never had any transfers inside of his unit, so I stuck out. He dropped me off at the ship I brought to you for transport to Impel Down a few weeks ago, but that obviously didn’t happen.”

Crocodile huffs and shares a smirk with you, “Obviously not.”

He then frowns and sets down his fork to reach across the table, taking your free hand in his and meeting your eyes, “You could have come back before this. I would have gladly taken you at my side, my dear.”

You squeeze his hand softly, a shy smile tugging at your lips, and you flick your eyes away in embarrassment, “I didn’t want to be a burden, Crocodile.”

Crocodile rolls his eyes at you, “You have proven yourself to me for years, darling. You don’t have to do so any longer, if you wish.”

He didn’t care if you wanted to retire from working for him. Crocodile simply wanted you by his side, so if that meant losing your capabilities in the field, then so be it. It sounded corny and disgustingly domestic, but all he wanted now was to wake up to you next to him. To be able to touch and kiss you whenever he wished, to have you at his side when all of his plans finally came to fruition.

“I want you to do what you want, but I want you to be at my side when you do.”

Your heart thunders in your chest. You’d always known that there was a tension between the two of you, a mutual attraction that you’d always been too afraid to act on, fearing that Crocodile would send you away. But now? Now you want to act on it.

You stand before you can lose any courage, keeping his hand in your own as you walk around the table. Crocodile follows you, scooting his chair back away from the table when you are by his side. Without missing a beat, you reach out with your free hand, your fingers sliding along his throat and then up to smooth against his strong jaw. Your thumb drags up his cheek, and then you are leaning down to seal your lips against his.

At first, it’s a simple press of lips, the two of you mapping one another out with careful tugs and gentle pulls of your lips, but it doesn’t take long for it to turn heated. Crocodile has waited years to finally have you, and he would be damned if he didn’t get to taste you properly.

Crocodile tugs you by the hand, sending you forward and into his chest, one of your knees landing in the chair, but it still isn’t close enough for him. He manhandles you into his lap, his arm wrapping around your waist as he drags you flush against his chest. You groan into the kiss, mouth dropping open when his tongue prods forward, hissing when it rubs against the still healing cuts.

You want more, and whine softly in the back of your throat when Crocodile breaks the kiss, leaning back so that he can gaze upon your flushed face and heavy lidded eyes. He smirks and leans back in to peck your lips, making you chase after him.

“As much as I would like to continue,” he rumbles and shifts under you, his cock already hard and aching in his pants just from a simple kiss, “I would much prefer to have you in full health. I do not want to hurt you, my dear.”

You snort and drop your head into the crook of his shoulder, scooting forward so that your knees touched the back of the chair, a pout on your lips, “You could never hurt me, Wani, but okay.”

Crocodile holds you close, dropping to press his lips to the top of your head. They would have plenty of time to explore one another in the coming days. The two of you would just have to wait.

[eggrollforyou]

Secrets

Law x F!Reader

WC: ~3000

CW: NSFW, MDNI, use of sex toys, established relationship, consensual voyeurism, fingering, oral (F receiving), soft dom Law, use of pet names, mutual masturbation, use of Y/N, penetrative sex, p in v

A/N: This one is for you @shy-writer-999 ! I hope this scratches that itch. Barely proofread. Enjoy!

“Where the HELL is that damn comic?!” Law shouted, his voice grated with frustration. He’s spent the last 30 minutes tearing your shared room apart looking for his newest Sora comic find. All he wanted was to take a few minutes to have a break and enjoy a light read. Something to break the monotony of medical journals and textbooks. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember where he set the comic. His desk was messier than usual, papers and books scattered and disorganized as he shifted everything around, swearing he left it on the desk. The bookshelf was left just as messy in his search, rummaging through every shelf. He rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. Alright, clearly it got put somewhere stupid. Where else can I look? He thought to himself. He couldn’t ask you where it was, you were out getting supplies with Ikkaku at the island where you were currently docked.

He was hoping to get to read while the crew were out on the island, giving him a true opportunity to be alone without worrying someone barging in and interrupting his personal time, but at this rate, that was less and less likely to happen. Time to move on to more unusual places to check he thinks as he walks to his nightstand. Pulling open the drawer and still not seeing anything. Maybe it’s in (Y/N)’s nightstand. At this fucking point it could be anywhere. He makes his way around the bed and pulls your nightstand drawer open with such frustration that all of the contents flew forward. Slamming into the front of the drawer. Suddenly, he forgot what he was looking for. Rightbin front of him was something that took him completely by surprise. When he opened the drawer so forcefully, he exposed your sex toys. He smirked, picking up a toy in each hand- a wand and a clit stimulator. And just like that, the comic was long forgotten. He felt a pulse of desire as he thought about you using these. When was the last time she used these? Why does she have them? WHEN did she get them? Oh…this is going to be fun.

Ikkaku and you were making your way back to the submarine with the crate of medical supplies that Law requested you both pick up. Laughing and joking about the trouble Bepo almost got into at the market for clumsily bumping a produce stand, nearly destroying the poor farmer’s entire crop, you both entered the ship loudly. Law’s ears perked up when he heard your fit of giggles. He was in your shared room, lying in wait for your return. When you and Ikkaku unloaded the supplies and put them away, you noticed one of Law’s Sora comics under a supply of latex gloves. “Hey, Ikkaku, do you mind finishing cataloguing these supplies? I need to get this to the Captain,” you raise the comic. “Oh yea, go for it. I’ll take care of it,” she smiles. “Thanks! I’ll see you later! I’ll catalogue on the next supply run,” you wink as you walk out of the room to head to your quarters.

You’re humming as you open the door to your room. “Laaaaw, baby, look what I found with the medical supplies,” you raise the comic to show your found loot. “I thought you might want to read it, right? Isn’t this the new one,” and you stop. Jaw dropped, heat rushing to your cheeks, surely showing your embarrassment when you are met with the sight of Law. sitting at his desk, waiting for you. And your sex toys were on the desk in front of him. You quickly shut the door behind you. He wore a cocky half smile, his fingers pressed together in front of him. “U-uhmmm….did you go through my stuff, Law?” you question, your voice small, barely above a whisper. Your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “I was looking for that comic, thank you for finding it by the way, and checked our nightstands. Found these in there,” as he points to the toys on his now clean desk. You feel so warm with embarrassment and being on the spot. You only got them when you and Law were separated for so long when he was on Punk Hazard and Dressrosa. You needed the toys because your own hands were no longer cutting it after him. What his hands can do; how they make you melt.

“Am I not enough for you?” Law questions, his eyes growing dark as he stands up. You gulp, “You’re more than enough, Law. I got them when you were on Punk Hazard and Dressrosa. It was so long without you…..and I-I couldn’t take care of it myself because you’re too good at it,” you shyly smirk. He chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest as he grabs the toys and walks to you. Holding them up in front of you, he looks down and back up at you, “I want you to show me how you use them….for…research purposes.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your embarrassment quickly dissipates, replaced by desire in your belly as his request. “O-okay…,” you pause, waiting to see if he gives you any further direction. “Pick one,” he smirks as his gaze grows more intense, boring through you.

You pick the wand and make your way to the bed, unzipping your boiler suit, stripping down to your tank top and shorts underneath. You sit on the bed, shifting to a slight recline with your legs out and knees slightly bent. He pulls his chair around his desk to the end of the bed and sits down, arms crossed as he watches you. You gulp, I can’t believe this is happening, you think to yourself as you unbutton your shorts, shimmying out of them and your underwear at the same time. You kick them off at him. He catches them, his devilish smile and heavy lidded eyes spurring more confidence in you. “Spread your legs, baby,” he growls and you instantly comply, “That's it…just like that.” Exposing your cunt to him, you grow wetter by the second. You turn on your wand and as you take it to the apex of your thighs, you slowly rub your other hand down your other thigh. Pressing the wand on your clit, you immediately close your eyes in the pleasure the stimulation brings. You gasp and bite your lip, slowly increasing the pressure and moving the wand in small circles on your clit.

Law leans forward as he adjusts his jeans, his length achingly tight in them, as he rests his elbows on his knees. His breathing increases as he watches you pleasure yourself. Your head thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed, biting your lip. It’s driving him wild. He wants nothing more than to confirm how much more pleasure he brings you, but he’s enjoying himself at the moment. Trying to hold out before he ruins you. “Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he commands. Your eyes snap open and you both take in each other’s forms. You apply more pressure with the wand, bringing yourself closer to orgasm. You're spurred on by seeing him palm his length through his jeans. Suddenly, he drops your shorts but still holds your panties. He unbottons his jeans and pulls them down, exposing his hard cock- tip angry and red from its confinement- as he wraps your panties around his length and begins slowly fisting himself with them. You moan at the sight and stop pleasuring yourself for a moment. You groan then, not intending to stop. “Please, Law, please make me feel good. No one else can like you,” you plead. “Tch- don’t stop. Be a good girl and cum for me. If you’re good, then I’ll fuck you,” he demands as he continues to fist his cock.

You bite your lip harder at the sight and nod as you press the wand to your clit again. As you adjust the pressure you’re applying from harder to lighter, you continue to watch each other, connecting through intense eye contact which only fuels your desire. You push one leg out straight and bring the other up, grabbing your knee as you feel the coil in your abdomen begin to unravel. Your eyes close tightly as you approach your orgasm and with a harder press from the wand, you snap. “F-fuuck, yes, Law,” you cry out as you cum, your cunt throbbing around nothing as you get even wetter, leaving a slick shine on the tip of the wand.

As you come down, you hear Law shifting, “That’s it…good girl. Let me take care of you now,” he says darkly. You look up and see him standing next to you at the edge of the bed, he’s already stripped down to nothing. You quickly pull off your shirt and unclasp your bra. You yelp in surprise as he moves you on the bed so your legs are bent over the edge. He gets down on his knees as he presses your thighs up, exposing yourself completely to him, “I want to hear my name on your lips when I make you cum, got it?” he rumbles.

He immediately takes your clit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucks between harsh flicks of his tongue. “Fuck, oh my god- hng,” you shout as your hands find purchase in his dark locks. He moans at the feeling of you tugging his hair and continues eating you like a man starved. Between him fucking you with his tongue and going back to sucking your clit, you’re on the verge of another orgasm. “Oh god, don’t stop, right there” you cry out as he has you tumbling over the edge again. Your legs twitch and squeeze him. The sounds of his mouth lapping you up obscene and filling the room with your cries of bliss. As you come down, your legs tremble and he leans back, wiping you from his face, “That’s my girl.” He comes up and leans over you, kissing you deeply, forcing his tongue between your lips as you taste yourself. Your hands on each side of his face as he has you caged beneath him. His arm wraps underneath you and he pulls you up to his chest and moves you both further onto the bed.

“Tell me what you want, love,” he whispers into your mouth between kisses. “Hmm,” you moan, “I need you, p-please, fuck me,” you pant. He leans up, and presses your knees to your chest and fists his cock as he takes you in, fucked out and breathless. He lines himself up to your pussy and presses in slowly, as he leans forward over you. When he presses to the hilt, you’re both panting, foreheads pressed together as he pauses, trying not to cum immediately at the feeling of your warm, wet, walls clenching around him. He presses a kiss to your soft lips and leans up, moving his hands to grab your hips, pressing sharp indents into your flesh. He begins thrusting into you, enamored by how your cunt takes all of him and it awakens something possessive within him. “Fuck, look how well you take me. You’re mine, got it? Nothing and no one can make you feel this good.” You nod, unable to speak, as you’re lost in the pleasure of his cock stretching and filling you completely. Your moans grow louder as he picks up his pace, sweat glistening on his brow. “Hnng,” you cry out as he thrusts particularly harshly, slamming into your cervix. “Fuuuhck, I love the sounds you make. Just for me,” he pants as he loses himself in you.

He suddenly pulls out and you cry out in frustration at the empty feeling. You press up to your elbows, “W-why’d you stop, baby?” you pant. “C’mere,” he pulls you up as he sits down, pulling you onto his lap. He grabs your breasts as you push them into his face, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he takes one into his mouth, sucking and biting as if they’ll disappear if he doesn’t pay them attention. You throw your head back, eyes shut tight. Reaching down, you line himself up to your entrance and sit down on his throbbing cock, gasping when you’re fully seated on top of him. “Go on, fuck yourself on my cock,” Law rumbles, his voice deep and thick with lust.

He’s as drunk with you as you are with him as you begin riding him as his hands roughly pull across your body. You bounce up and down his length until your legs and hips burn. Pushing through the pain to chase your orgasm. “Shit, just like that baby- fuuuuhhhck,” he cries out as he wraps his arms under yours and pulls you down grabbing your shoulders. You feel him pulse as he cums, spilling thick ropes into you and you roll your hips, grinding your clit on his abdomen. “I know you have one more for me baby,” he whispers breathlessly into your mouth as he kisses you. As you're grinding, feeling him pulse within you, and feeling his release trickling out of you with your movements, you cum again. Pleasure wracking your body as Law leaves no space between you. You’re overwhelmed with pleasure. All you feel, smell, and think is him as you lose yourself and cry out his name over and over.

You still, sitting in his lap as you collapse forward, utterly spent. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly as you both come down from your highs. Trying to catch your breath in the crook of his neck, you feel him press kisses along your shoulder. “Hmmm,” he exhales, “So which one is better?” he asks, trying to stifle a laugh. You pull back to look at him, “Oh hush!” you laugh as you playfully push his shoulder, laughing together intimately.

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

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Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

[favefandomimagines]

I Know Places (r.c)

Summary: Y/N has always been the peacekeeper in JJ’s life. Whereas JJ was the chaos in hers. And they only ever had each other. When Rafe finds himself in a sticky situation after a dangerous encounter, Y/N unexpectedly becomes his lifeline. Drawn to her compassion and strength, Rafe tries to change, but his past mistakes—and JJ’s disdain for him—complicate everything.

AN: I’m starting a Rafe Cameron series!! I’ve been going back and forth between a traditional series or an SMAU series. Let me know what you guys think!

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting the Outer Banks in hues of amber and gold. The Pogues were gathered at the bait shop, wrapping up their day. Y/N Maybank leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she watched her twin brother JJ count the day’s earnings with uncharacteristic focus.

"Seriously, J," she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You’ve been staring at that cash like it’s gonna sprout legs and walk off. What’s the holdup?"

JJ glanced up, his blue eyes sparkling with the mischief that seemed to define his existence. "Just making sure we’re not short, sunshine. John B’s not exactly forgiving when it comes to missing cash."

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. It was always like this with JJ—him playing the charming troublemaker and her trying to keep him grounded. Being twins meant they shared everything: a very messed up childhood, an unspoken bond, and a deep understanding of each other’s flaws and strengths.

Where JJ was impulsive and wild, Y/N was pragmatic and quick-thinking. She’d spent years trying to be his voice of reason, the one who pulled him back from the edge when his temper or recklessness threatened to get him in trouble. But it wasn’t a one-way street. JJ had long since appointed himself her protector, ready to throw himself into the fire to keep her safe.

"Y/N’s off-limits." That was the unspoken rule on the island, one everyone seemed to understand. Hurt her, and you’d answer to JJ Maybank—and no one wanted that.

But Y/N wasn’t just JJ’s sister. She was her own person, and she had a way of disarming people that JJ envied. Everyone liked her, even Topper Thornton, though he’d never admit it. She had this ability to make anyone feel at ease, but she was no pushover. Y/N could be a firecracker when needed, her sharp tongue and quick wit making her a force to be reckoned with.

And JJ had no issue reminding everyone.

"Remember last summer?" JJ said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. "When Topper called me a loser, and you laid into him in front of the whole dock?"

Y/N smirked, leaning her elbows on the counter. "Someone had to teach him some manners. You were about two seconds from throwing him into the water."

JJ laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. "You’re lucky everyone loves you. If it were me, I’d have ended up in cuffs."

"That’s because I use words, J. You use fists."

JJ shrugged, grinning. "Same difference."

Their banter was interrupted by Sarah Cameron strolling into the shop, her blonde hair catching the light of the setting sun.

"Party on the beach tonight," she announced, her voice light but insistent. "Big one. First of the summer. You guys coming?"

The Pogues exchanged glances, the exhaustion from their day already fading.

"Beach party? Hell yeah, we’re going," JJ declared, slamming the cash drawer shut.

Y/N hesitated, her stomach twisting slightly at the thought. She wasn’t a fan of big parties, especially ones where Kooks, Pogues, and Tourons all mingled. The lines blurred too much, and it always felt like trouble was just around the corner.

But she couldn’t say no when the rest of the group looked so excited.

"Fine," she said, feigning nonchalance. "But if this turns into a Kook-Pogue brawl, I’m not breaking it up."

||

The beach was alive with music and laughter when they arrived, the crowd a mix of sunburned Tourons, smug Kooks, and carefree Pogues. Y/N stuck close to her brother at first, the unfamiliar energy of the party making her skin prickle. This wasn’t the Boneyard, their turf. Here, they were outsiders.

JJ nudged her, his protective instincts on high alert. "Stick close, alright? I don’t trust these Kooks not to pull something."

Y/N rolled her eyes, brushing him off. "I’m not a kid, JJ. I don’t need you babysitting me."

JJ shot her a look that was equal parts exasperation and concern. "I’m serious, Y/N."

"Relax," she said with a smirk. "I’ll be fine."

Hours passed, the party raging on as the sun dipped below the horizon. While the rest of the Pogues were still going strong, Y/N had had enough. The unfamiliar crowd and overwhelming noise wore on her nerves, and she was ready to leave.

She didn’t really drink so she was completely sober, which could have contributed to her not having fun.

"Hey, I’m going to head home," she told JJ, who immediately frowned.

"I’ll walk you," he offered, but she shook her head.

"No need, I’ll be fine. Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll come back and pick you guys up."

JJ hesitated, his protective instincts warring with his trust in her. Finally, he sighed. "Be careful, alright? And… I love you, sunshine."

Y/N smiled, ruffling his hair. "Love you too, J."

||

The night was quiet as she walked toward the Twinkie, parked on the street just outside Tannyhill. Sarah had assured them it was safe—Rafe wouldn’t be home, so there was no risk of running into him.

But as Y/N approached the gate, something felt off. It was wide open, swinging slightly in the breeze. She stopped, her instincts screaming at her to turn around. Then she saw them—three shadowy figures dressed in black, bolting from the side gate.

Her heart pounded as she froze, watching them disappear into the night. Curiosity gnawed at her, overriding her better judgment. She should have called the police and left. But she didn’t. She stepped cautiously up the driveway, her eyes scanning the area.

The door was ajar, the faint glow of the interior lights spilling onto the porch. She pushed it open slowly, her breath hitching at the scene inside. Glass littered the floor, furniture was overturned, and an eerie silence hung in the air.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling. No response.

As she rounded the corner into the living room, her stomach dropped. Someone was lying on the floor.

Rafe Cameron.

He was unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his head. Without thinking, Y/N knelt beside him, her hands hovering uncertainly.

"Rafe," she said, her voice shaking. "Rafe, wake up."

A groan escaped his lips, his face scrunching in pain before his eyes fluttered open. "What... Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"I saw the gate open and... I had a feeling something was wrong. Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" he muttered, wincing as he tried to sit up.

"Don’t move," Y/N ordered, her tone firm. "You could have a concussion."

He shook his head, grimacing. "I’m fine.” Y/N looked at him incredulously. “Rafe, you need to go to the hospital.” Y/N rebutted. “No, no hospital. Just... do what you do for JJ." Rafe replied.

Y/N frowned but helped him up. "There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom," he said, leaning heavily on her as they made their way upstairs.

Y/N kept her hands on his arm and his back, the last thing they both needed was him falling down the stairs and hurting himself even further.

“Sit down.” She told him. Rafe sat on the closed toilet and watched as Y/N grabbed the first aid kit. She didn’t have to come inside, she could have left him. But she didn’t.

The tension in the bathroom was palpable as Y/N cleaned his wound, the closeness between them stirring something unspoken.

"How do I know it wasn’t you and your friends who robbed me?" Rafe asked suddenly, his tone accusatory.

Y/N froze, glaring at him. "If I had, I’d be halfway to Mexico with all the expensive shit you have in this house. Maybe next time, I’ll think twice about helping you.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, muttering an apology.

He never got along with JJ or the rest of the Pogues, that much was certain. Rafe and JJ had fought on multiple occasions, almost always over Rafe flirting with Rafe a little too seriously for JJ’s comfort.

But he was never harsh to Y/N like he was to the rest of them. He always thought that she was too perfect for the Pogues but he never had the courage to act on his feelings.

Y/N finished cleaning the cut, placing a butterfly bandage over it to hold the two sides together. She sifted through the first aid kit and found a travel sized bottle of Tylenol. Y/N took off the cap and handed him two pills.

"Take these and you probably shouldn’t fall asleep. You might still have a concussion. You really should see a doctor." Y/N told him.

"Yeah, well, lucky for me I had you," he said, his voice softer now.

Y/N moved to leave, her emotions a mix of frustration and something she couldn’t quite name.”Lucky for you, I’m a good person.”

"Thanks," Rafe called after her. "Seriously."

She paused at the door. "Just... don’t make me regret it."

As she walked away, both of them felt it—that unspoken shift. And Rafe, for the first time in a long while, was determined to explore it.

Y/N made her way down the stairs of Tannyhill, the eerie silence of the house settling around her. Her hands trembled slightly as she replayed the events of the night in her head. She’d just patched up Rafe Cameron—a man who, until now, had been little more than a looming presence in her world. His blood on her hands, the weight of his injury—it was all too surreal.

She stepped outside, the cool night air hitting her like a slap. She glanced back at the house, the faint light from the upstairs bathroom glowing in the dark. Rafe was still up there, sitting in silence with whatever thoughts plagued him.

“Lucky for me, I had you.”

His words echoed in her mind, and for a moment, she felt the weight of them. Rafe wasn’t someone she thought about often. Sure, she’d seen him around—he was hard to miss, with his sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and the quiet intensity that seemed to follow him like a shadow. But this? Being alone with him, patching him up after what had clearly been an attack, had cracked the veneer of distance between them.

Upstairs, Rafe leaned against the edge of his sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale, the cut on his head still throbbing. He popped the Tylenol Y/N had given him and ran a hand over his buzzed hair.

He couldn’t get her out of his head—her sharp wit, the way her voice softened when she realized he was hurt, the way she’d scolded him like he was one of her own friends instead of some Kook she barely tolerated.

“Lucky for you, I’m a good person,” she’d said.

He let out a quiet laugh, the memory tugging at the corner of his mouth. She was something else—bright and unflinching, someone who didn’t cower under his sharp edges or the weight of his name.

And then there was the way she’d looked at him. Not like he was the Rafe Cameron, the Kook king of the island. Or the guy who had beaten up her brother countless times. She’d looked at him like he was just a guy who needed help.

That was a first.

Back outside, Y/N stopped halfway down the driveway, glancing over her shoulder at the gate. The memory of the three shadowy figures flashed in her mind, and she frowned. Who would have the audacity to rob Tannyhill? And why?

She pulled her phone out, debating whether she should call JJ. She knew he’d flip if he found out she’d gone into the house alone—or worse, that she’d been the one to find Rafe. JJ and Rafe were like oil and water, and she could already hear the string of colorful curses her brother would throw at her if he found out.

But she also knew JJ would lose his mind if something happened to her.

Sighing, she shot him a quick text:

Y/N: Made a quick pit stop, heading home now. Don’t forget to text me when you’re ready to leave.

She slipped her phone into her pocket and started down the long driveway. Despite herself, she couldn’t shake the image of Rafe’s face—his guarded expression, the vulnerability in his eyes when he muttered, “Thanks.”