#he's awkward. he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

[beforetimes]

planning a modern/fame timebomb au in my head where jinx is a celebrity recovering from addiction after a public meltdown who's lost contact with most of the people she knew when pre-breakdown/pre-fame. and in completing her recovery program she reaches out to ekko to offer a direct apology for anything she might have said/might have happened in the depths of her addiction, but doesn't hear back from him.

following this she decides to go out and sign up for a program to help at-risk kids like herself—after reflecting in therapy and realizing that a lot of the issues that lead to her being in such a volatile state of mind was because of the lack of support she had in childhood when dealing with losing her family [haven't planned what would work as a stand-in for the powder factory explosion so lets skirt past that for now] she decides that she wants to be that support for other people that she didn't have herself, after spending about a year trying to get better.

basically, she signs up as a volunteer to this big brother/sister-esque outreach program after a few months of anonymously donating to see if she can help someone in person rather than continuing to isolate herself. which is where she meets isha, who immediately imprints on jinx and insists on following her around. and jinx, who is unused to being at the centre of someone's attention without larger expectations that come with her status as a celebrity attached as caveat, starts relaxing by the very nature of her interactions with isha not being as loaded as others. like, this is just a kid! she doesn't know about jinx's issues or how she freaked out and lost it on stage/on a set/made headlines before disappearing from the public eye and ending up here. all isha sees is someone with cool blue hair and nails she wants to try her hand at painting.

after a few months of building a rapport with isha through this community mentor program, jinx accidentally bumps into the last person she really expected to see here—ekko.

ekko is also very surprised to see her here, because the last time he saw her, she was freaking out on him because he wouldn't enable her self-destructive behaviour, their final and most explosive fight resulting in their subsequent falling out where jinx threw a lot of shit back in his face and he did the same and they decided not to contact each other. well, besides jinx's attempt at an apology, but he didn't reply to that.

he sees her here and they both freeze because, like? what do you even do in this situation? they haven't seen each other in a few years at this point, maybe two or three at the most. enough time that it feels so entirely awkward to even try to act like nothing happened while also knowing that it would be equally nerve-grating to try and acknowledge the history between them.

of course, this stand-off is interrupted by isha, who sees jinx frozen in the hall and immediately stomps over to drag her away because they had been working on a painting together that she's been waiting to finish all week.

and jinx eventually relaxes because ekko doesn't say anything and neither does she, even though she wants to know what he's doing here in the first place. but the day ends without any further interactions between the two.

eventually, after asking around, jinx learns that ekko was the one who set the program up a few years prior, a tentative friend in the program telling her that the community didn't really have a lot of resources on hand and that a lot of the program was personally financed by ekko and he did a lot of work to try and uplift the people and community without demanding financial support in return, like most state-funded programs tend to do.

jinx is just, like, in awe of the fact that this childhood friend grew up to do something so great before being overwhelmed with guilt over the fact that she had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn't even noticed.

of course, this doesn't really change things because they're still not talking to each other, but weeks pass and jinx feels like they've gotten into a steady pattern of avoiding each other.

what she doesn't know is that ekko has been subtly watching in on her and isha's little hang-out sessions and is just in awe that this girl who had only a few years ago been so unsure of herself and in so much pain had managed to heal to the point of being able to help someone else and make a good positive impact on isha's life in a program he created.

so, after a while, jinx gets a reply on that email she had sent him nearly a year ago where ekko just asks if she wants to meet for lunch. which she replies to, after a lot of back-and-forth, by saying yes absolutely.

and then the romance unfolds further from there, yadda yadda yadda. haven't decided how this will ultimately end or where vi will play a part or anyone else but i thought that the bare bones concept i had in mind was worth posting here.

in my head maybe ekko's second, scar would be a friend who had seen the majority of the fallout and would be warning him away in the background while ekko was sort of caught up in being both happy that jinx seemed to be doing better while also conflicted on whether or not he wanted to forgive her because their last fight was like, super nasty. awful stuff said

maybe if anyone has ideas for how vi / cait / anyone else could be worked in, you can leave that below?? none of this is super set in stone! just rambling. ^_^

[slightly-knot-insane]

A Little Bit Rusty [part 2]

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

a/n: continuation of this short drabble, now with more plot, hehe. also, i imagined this monster as some kind of dinosaur hybrid, but i'll still keep it vague enough for readers to imagine whatever they like ^^ content: nsfw, some steamy moments with clothes on, fingering

You left his apartment before he woke up, figuring it will be less awkward than to have breakfast together and spend the morning in silence avoiding each other's gaze. The night was so good, though, you think as you enter the museum, your workplace.

It's hard to focus on paperwork you left unfinished yesterday in order to have fun with your co-worker, aka supervisor, aka mentor. It's very hard not to think about his long monstrous tongue or his teeth biting your inner thighs.

"Good morning..." You jolt up immediately recognizing your mentor's voice. You didn't notice when he entered the office. He is standing a few steps away from you, like you have a disease. "Are you... okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You are truly surprised with his question. Last night was fantastic.

He suddenly stands with his back straighter than before - if that's even possible. "R-right. Good to know." And then basically runs away.

Maybe he didn't have such a good time? He sure didn't act unsatisfied. You chuckle looking at him trip over his own legs.

It's a busy day, Saturday, and the museum is full of people. You both have tours to lead, but since you only started working, you are mostly free or assisting him.

You actually love listening to him, since he's very eloquent when talking about archaeological findings, especially about bones. He is especially charming with kids and can make them laugh easily. But as soon as he lays his eyes on you, he blushes or stutters. It's so entertaining seeing him flustered you can't help but on purposely make his job even harder.

You shorten your skirt, pull your blouse down to expose your bosom, and tighten the belt around your waist to accentuate your curves even more. When he sees you the next time, his jaw drops like a malfunctioning lid. Luckily, his group is enjoying some free time exploring the science room so he has time to quickly approach you.

"You, um..." he tries to form words, ask you something very polite probably, but you bite your lip and his pupils dangerously dilate.

He pushes you behind 'staff only' little door in the next room and shoves your body against the wall. It is so cramped in there and you can't move - not that you want to. This 'rusty old man' how he called himself, is all but out of practice, and you get wet just thinking about what he could do to you right now.

"I'm not blind," he growls and pushes his clawed hand into your hair pulling your head backwards. He licks your neck along your jugular. "You're toying with me."

"You think?" your sarcastic remark is cut short by his hand sliding between your thick thighs and lightly touching your mons pubis.

"Why did you leave this morning?" he asks you but doesn't let you answer because he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. All you can do is moan and suck. "Why?" he repeats letting you catch your breath.

"I-I'm not sure," you reply, mind hazy, "I wanted us to think about everything, I guess. Analyze things."

"I see," he hums as his finger slithers inside your panties and rubs your lewdness while his other hand grips your hips. "I recon we're both done thinking."

He pulls his finger out and licks it with the tip of his tongue. Your pussy throbs.

"We should get back to work," he says, blushing again, returning to his old flustered self... and kisses his wet finger before exiting the storage room with a naughty wink.

[ third part coming soon! ]

[pucked-bunnie]

home sweet home ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!OC (rae noelle) genre: romance ⎜established relationship ⎜ famous FMC⎜ warnings: quinn is a jealous boy ⎜ misunderstanding ⎜ otherwise not much ⎜this was just a little big silly and goofy synopsis: quinn decides to bring his girlfriend home for the first time to meet his family - he doesn't expect the attention she brings to go so bad so quickly. word count: 4.5k authors note:  this was requested by a reader who wants to stay anonymous but i hope they enjoy it! and I hope I did their idea justice! this is also my first time writing with an OC so sorry if it's a bit awkward

(unedited)

+

+

“So is your girlfriend coming or not?” Quinn rolls his eyes as Jack keeps firing his questions - the middle brother still uncertain that Quinn was telling the truth about his “girlfriend”. 

“She said she’ll be here in a few minutes - work ran late.” Quinn responds, stirring the pasta sauce on the stove, trying not to smile at the thought of finally having you here with him for the rest of the summer with the break in your filming schedule.  

“So what does she do for work?” Jack questions again, his chin nestled in his palm as he watches his older brother cook dinner - unable to avoid noticing the grin growing on his brothers face as he continues asking questions. The only reason Jack hadn’t stopped bothering his older brother was because he knew Quinn was down bad as he was going to milk it or all it was worth. 

“She works in media.” Quinn says quickly, his gaze shooting away from the pasta sauce down to his phone as it lets out a high pitched ding. 

“Is that her? Is she here?” Jack questions perking up from his spot at the counter, watching his older brother read the text message with a knowing grin. Quinn just nods before he takes off towards the front door, wanting to beat his little brother and avoid his family scaring off his girlfriend. 

Quinn reached the front door just as Jack darted after him.

"Quinn, wait! I need to meet this mysterious media mogul," Jack said, smirking. 

Quinn shot him a warning glance over his shoulder. "Stay here, Jack. I mean it."

Jack didn’t bother hiding his laugh as he leaned against the wall near the entrance, ignoring the command entirely.

A moment later, Quinn pulled open the door, and there she was: Rae, dressed in a casual yet effortlessly chic outfit, her hair gleaming in the golden hour light.

“Hey,” Rae said, her warm smile directed at Quinn as she stepped inside. Her eyes lit up when he leaned in to kiss her, but the sound of a poorly suppressed snort nearby made her pause.

“So this is Rae,” Jack said, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “Not bad, Quinn. But I have to say, for someone in ‘media,’ you’ve got—”

Jack stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as he got a proper look at Rae. Recognition dawned, and his jaw dropped. "Oh my God. You’re Rae Noelle!”

Quinn groaned, running a hand over his face. "Jack, please—"

“No, no, no. Time out,” Jack said, spinning toward his brother. “You didn’t think to mention that your girlfriend is, like, a legit celebrity?” Rae laughed softly, stepping forward to shake Jack’s hand. 

“Hi. You must be Jack. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jack blinked as he shook her hand. “Not as much as I’ve apparently not heard about you.” Jack looks between the couple, watching as Quinn leans forwards taking the bags from her hands “No, seriously how is this still a secret?” 

Before Rae could respond, Luke’s voice echoed from the living room. “What’s going on? Who’s at the door?” He appeared a second later, a soda can in hand, only to stop short when he saw Rae. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “Wait a minute... You’re the woman from that magazine Mom has on the coffee table! The tiktoker!”

“Singer, actually,” Rae corrected gently, her smile patient.

“Singer and tiktoker,” Jack interjected, still looking at Rae like she’d stepped out of a movie poster. “Quinn, how the hell did you pull this?”

Quinn groaned louder this time. “Can we not do this right now? Rae just got here, and we’re supposed to have dinner as a family, not interrogate her.” Rae placed a calming hand on Quinn’s arm. 

“It’s okay,” she said with a soft laugh. “I’m used to it.” She turned back to Jack and Luke, her tone teasing. “We’re both incredibly good at keeping secrets.” Rae continues to tease, watching the two younger brothers mouths drop open. 

Jack blinked again, still processing. “This is insane. Rae Noelle, sitting in my kitchen. Does Mom know about this?”

“Just Rae.” She corrects him gently. 

“She will soon,” Luke yells excitedly in response to the middle brother, already pulling out his phone to text their mother. 

Quinn lunged toward him. “Don’t you dare, Luke!” The kitchen erupted into chaos as Luke laughed and darted away, phone in hand, with Quinn chasing after him. Rae watched the scene unfold with amused disbelief, turning to Jack.

“Is it always like this with them?”

Jack grinned. “Oh, you have no idea. Welcome to the family.”

Rae chuckled softly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Thanks. I think.”

The clatter of feet and the sound of Quinn’s frustrated groans echoed through the house as he chased Luke, who was laughing like a maniac and shouting, “Mom’s gonna flip when she sees this!”

Jack stayed put, watching the chaos with a smirk. “You know,” he said, turning to Rae, “this might be the first time I’ve ever seen Quinn this... flustered. Usually, he’s the calm, collected one.”

“Oh?” Rae questions with a raised brow, her arms crossing over her chest as she watches the two brothers continue to play cat and mouse throughout the house. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him calm at home.” She chuckles barely noticing the slight surprise in Jack’s face as her words. 

“Home?” He questions to himself softly, looking over at the celebrity in his entryway, her eyes watching her boyfriend fondly as it all clicks into place, “This isn’t a new thing is it?” He questions, his grin growing as Rae’s eyes shoot over to him, her lips tilted upwards in a sheepish grin. 

“He made me promise not to say.” She chuckles. 

The commotion in the hallway died down as Quinn reappeared, looking frazzled but victorious, Luke trailing behind him with a sheepish grin and no phone in sight.

“Crisis averted,” Quinn said, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair. “Mom is not finding out like this. At least not yet.”

Rae gave him an amused look. “You do realise she’s going to find out eventually, right?”

Quinn groaned. “Yeah, but I was hoping to ease her into it. Preferably without Luke live-streaming it to the family group chat.”

Luke raised his hands defensively. “No live stream. I promise. Just... maybe a photo later?” Rae head is already nodding yes, shooting the youngest a soft smile as she watches her boyfriend turn to his brother with a glare. “I swear I won’t post it anywhere.” He says, throwing his hands up defensively. 

Quinn sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "Fine. One photo. Later. After dinner. And only if Rae agrees." Luke grinned triumphantly, while Jack shook his head, still marvelling at the situation. 

“Man, this summer just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Dinner turned into a lively affair, the kind of evening where the air buzzed with overlapping conversations, laughter, and the occasional teasing. Rae fit right in, her quick wit and easy laugh earning her the approval of Jack and Luke. Even Quinn couldn’t hide how much he loved having her there, sneaking glances at her as she joked with his brothers.

After dinner, the four of them moved outside to sit by the fire pit, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting the yard in hues of orange and pink. Luke had insisted on roasting marshmallows, which turned into a chaotic competition of who could make the “perfect golden brown.” Rae surprised everyone by nailing it on her first try.

“Beginner’s luck,” Jack muttered, his own marshmallow charred on one side.

“I don’t know,” Rae teased, holding up her perfectly toasted treat. “I think it’s just raw talent.”

Luke laughed so hard he nearly dropped his skewer. “She’s already my favourite.” 

Quinn leaned back in his chair, arms crossed but with a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine too.”

The evening wound down as the stars began to dot the sky. Jack and Luke shared embarrassing childhood stories about Quinn, much to Rae’s delight, Quinn equally sharing all the the stories he could think of about the younger brothers until their cheeks were flushing a soft pink, the two of them begging him to stop. 

The next few days followed a similar rhythm.

 Mornings were slow and lazy, Rae joining Quinn for coffee on the porch while his brothers slept in. Afternoons were filled with lake trips, group games, and many movies - borderline too many. 

By the third day, it was as though Rae had always been part of the family. Jack stopped gawking every time she entered the room, though he still teased Quinn mercilessly about “dating up.” Luke, meanwhile, had become Rae’s shadow, constantly asking questions about her career and how to go viral on TikTok.

Quinn watched it all unfold with quiet satisfaction. Rae had not only handled his brothers’ antics with grace but had also managed to connect with them in a way that felt genuine. 

It was everything he’d hoped for and more.

On the fourth day, the summer rhythm hit its stride. Rae had settled into the family dynamic seamlessly, waking up to Quinn’s sleepy smile and coffee brewed just how she liked it. By mid-morning, the house came alive with the sounds of Jack and Luke’s antics—bickering about what game to play, who got the last pancake, or who was the best at trivia.

That afternoon, they all headed down to the lake. The warm sun glinted off the water as Jack and Luke immediately dove in, splashing each other like kids. Rae sat on the edge of the dock with Quinn, dipping her toes in the cool water.

“You know,” she said, leaning back on her hands, “I think I’ve laughed more in the past few days than I have in months.”

Quinn glanced at her, his features softening. “That’s what summers here do. It’s different—quieter. Grounding.”

She nodded, her gaze following Jack and Luke as they challenged each other to see who could hold their breath the longest. “It’s been good for me. And for you too, I think.”

Quinn smiled, leaning over to kiss her temple. “Yeah. It’s been really good.”

That night, as everyone lounged on the porch under a blanket of stars, the conversation turned sentimental. Jack, for all his teasing, spoke up first. “I gotta say, Rae, I didn’t think you’d stick around after the first day with us. We’re... a lot.”

Rae smiled softly, her hand resting on Quinn’s. “You’re a lot in the best way. Honestly, this feels like home.”

Luke, half-asleep in a hammock, muttered, “You’re way too cool for Quinn.”

“I heard that,” Quinn said, chuckling.

“Doesn’t make it less true,” Luke shot back, his eyes still closed.

Everyone laughed, the sound echoing into the quiet summer night. Quinn squeezed Rae’s hand, his heart full as he looked at her surrounded by his family.

As the night stretched on and the others began to drift inside, Quinn and Rae stayed behind, the porch swing swaying gently beneath them.

“You really meant it, didn’t you?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet in the stillness.

Rae tilted her head. “Meant what?”

“When you said this felt like home.”

She looked up at him, her gaze steady and full of warmth. “I did.”

Quinn’s smile was slow and genuine. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Rae leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. “I have an idea.”

“My mum and dad are coming over tomorrow, for the fourth.” Quinn adds suddenly his eyes trained on their joined hands, his thumb rubbing absentminded circles on the back of her hand. “You’ll be meeting them for the first time.” He adds. 

“Are you nervous?” She asks, glancing up at him as he shakes his head. 

“I just want you to like them — I want them to be as much my family as they are yours.” He says softly, bringing her hands up to press a gentle kiss against the back of her hand. 

“Quinn how could I not love them? They gave me you didn’t they?” Rae responds, watching her boyfriend falter, his fingers squeezing hers as he just nods, his words caught in his throat. “Something about us in this swing is very domestic, don’t you think.” She notes, changing the subject as Quinn clears his throat, the tips of his ears burning as he nods along. 

“You’d make a cute old lady.” Quinn agrees as Rae lets out a scoff of laughter. 

“Well, I think you’d be a pretty ugly old lady.” Rae jokes back, watching as Quinn shoots her a playful glare, his posture getting ready to lunge as she shoves herself away from the swing, just making it out of Quinn’s grasp. 

“You can run, but you can’t hide.” She hears Quinn call from behind her. 

+

+

“Morning.” Rae coos as she walks into the kitchen, her sky blue summer dress swinging around her ankles as she sidles up besides Quinn at the counter, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Anything I can help with, baby?” She questions, Quinn quickly shaking his head. 

“Nope, you just go and relax, the guests will be here in a few hours.” He notes, Rae’s eyebrows furrowing as she pouts softly. 

“C’mon give me something to do.” She sighs, “I’m going to die from boredom if I keep ‘just relaxing’” She continues, putting air quotations around her words. 

“Okay, fine—if you can head into town with Jack to pick up the cake, that would be great,” Quinn finally says, giving in with a playful smirk. He grabs a dish towel to dry his hands as Rae lights up with excitement.

“Done!” she chirps, spinning on her heel and heading toward the door. “Let me grab my purse!”

“Jack’s already outside,” Quinn calls after her. “Try not to kill each other before you get back, alright?” Rae sticks her tongue out at him before disappearing down the hall.

Outside, Jack leans against the shiny black SUV, scrolling through his phone with one hand and holding a coffee cup in the other. When he spots Rae walking toward him, his lips curl into a smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t Her Royal Highness,” he greets, mock bowing as she approaches.

Rae rolls her eyes. “And if it isn’t my trusty chauffeur,” she retorts, opening the passenger door and tossing her purse inside.

Jack straightens and grins. “Trusty? That’s a first.”

She scoffs, settling into the seat. “Don’t push your luck. You’re only here because Quinn refused to let me do this on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack replies, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Let’s just pick up the cake so you can stop bossing me around.”

“Not likely,” Rae quips. The drive into town is lively, with Rae critiquing Jack’s playlist the entire way.

“Seriously? Another eighties rock song?” she groans as the intro to yet another ballad blasts through the speakers.

Jack gasps dramatically. “You did not just insult Bon Jovi.”

“I did. And I’ll do it again,” Rae teases, reaching for the volume knob.

Jack swats her hand away. “You have no taste.”

“Says the man who’s apparently trapped in a time warp,” Rae fires back.

Their banter continues until they pull into the small parking lot outside the bakery. It’s a quaint little shop with pastel-coloured awnings and a display window filled with intricately decorated cakes and pastries.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Rae says, hopping out of the car.

Jack trails behind her, taking his time as he sips his coffee. “You act like this is a chore. It’s cake, Rae. Cake is sacred.”

“Then maybe you should carry it,” she shoots back over her shoulder.

The bell above the bakery door jingles as they step inside, greeted by the sweet scent of sugar and frosting. Rae heads straight to the counter to confirm the order, while Jack lingers by a shelf of macarons, examining them like he’s never seen dessert before.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order for Quinn,” Rae says with a friendly smile.

The baker nods, disappearing into the back.

Jack sidles up beside her, holding a macaron in one hand. “Think they’ll notice if I steal this?”

Rae gives him a withering look. “You’re not stealing from a bakery, Jack.”

“It’s not stealing if I eat it before they catch me,” he replies, popping it into his mouth before she can protest.

Before Rae can chastise him further, a group of teenagers outside catches her eye. They’re huddled together, staring through the window and whispering excitedly.

“Oh no,” she mutters under her breath, ducking slightly.

“What?” Jack asks, his mouth still full of macaron.

“I think we’ve been spotted,” Rae says, nodding toward the window.

Jack follows her gaze and smirks as the teens pull out their phones, snapping pictures. “Ah, the price of fame.”

“Ugh, why today?” Rae groans, rubbing her temples.

Jack’s grin widens. “Relax, Rae. It’s just a few fans. Smile and wave. Or better yet…” He casually slings an arm around her shoulders, leaning in like they’re posing for a photo.

The teens outside erupt in squeals, and Rae’s face flushes crimson. “Jack!” she hisses, shrugging his arm off.

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “They already think we’re a thing. Might as well give them what they want.”

“Do you have any sense of shame?” Rae snaps, glaring at him.

“None whatsoever,” Jack replies with a cheeky grin. Before Rae can argue further, the baker returns with a pristine white box tied neatly with a ribbon. Rae thanks her quickly, eager to escape the attention, while Jack picks up the box with exaggerated care.

“Don’t drop it,” Rae warns as they head back to the car, the group of teens still snapping photos and whispering loudly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jack replies, shooting the fans a wink as they pass.

By the time they’re back in the SUV, Rae slumps into her seat, groaning. “Great. Just great. Now the internet’s going to think we’re a couple.”

Jack chuckles as he starts the car. “Hey, maybe Quinn will get a kick out of it.”

“Or maybe he’ll use it as an excuse to never send us on errands together again,” Rae mutters.

Jack glances at her with a playful grin. “You know, we’d make a pretty convincing couple.”

“Drive, Jack,” Rae deadpans, turning her attention to the window. Jack puts the car into drive but pauses for a moment, his head shooting to look over at the girl besides him. 

“I never payed for the macaron.” He yelps, his hand slapping against his forehead, “I really did steal from a bakery.” 

“Goddamn it, Jack.” Rae sighs, but she can’t help the smile that grows on her face. 

+

+

When they returned to the house, Rae carried the cake into the kitchen while Jack immediately flopped onto the couch, scrolling through his phone. Quinn looked up from his spot by the counter, smiling at Rae.

“Did everything go smoothly?” he asked, reaching out to take the cake from her and set it on the table.

“Define ‘smoothly,’” Rae muttered, shooting Jack a glare. Quinn’s brow furrowed, but before he could ask, Jack let out a low whistle from the living room. “There was an small hiccup at the bakery but it’s really not a bi—” 

“Well, would you look at that,” Jack drawled, holding up his phone. “Rae and I made the headlines.”

“What are you talking about?” Quinn asked, his tone sharpening as he crossed the room to snatch the phone from Jack’s hand. His expression darkened as he stared at the screen. The paparazzi images were crystal clear: Rae laughing as Jack leaned into her outside the bakery, his arm slung around her shoulders. The caption read: "Rae Noelle Spotted with NHL Player in Michigan - New Hot Couple Alert.” 

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked up to Jack, then to Rae. “Care to explain this?” he asked, his glare focused on Jack, his voice clipped.

Rae stepped forward, her expression softening. “Quinn, it’s not what it looks like. Some fans spotted us, and Jack—” She shot Jack another glare. “—decided to play it up for the cameras.” Jack shrugged, unbothered. 

“What? It’s not my fault they assumed we’re a couple.” Jack sinks further into the couch as the couple send him another annoyed look. Quinn’s gaze lingered on Rae for a moment, her hand reaching up to gently rub his arm, his expression unreadable, before he turned back to Jack. 

“You couldn’t have just ignored them?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jack replied with a grin, but it faltered under Quinn’s glare. Rae let out a long sigh as she watches the two brothers in a stare off before linking her fingers with Quinn’s pulling him away from his younger brother. 

“Please don’t be mad, it was a joke and I can call my publicist to get it all sorted out.” She says quickly, Quinn nodding his head letting out a soft breath as he steps forwards, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, their hands still linked at their side. “But Quinn maybe now is the right time to just get it all out there — no more misunderstandings.” She whispers, raising her free hand to brush through his soft curls. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Quinn sighs, pulling away and giving her a tense smile before leaving back towards the kitchen. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of preparations. Quinn and Rae worked together to decorate the dining room, stringing fairy lights across the ceiling and arranging bouquets of wildflowers in mason jars. Jack, under strict orders from Quinn, helped set up the outdoor seating area, though he complained loudly the entire time.

“Why do we even need this many chairs?” Jack grumbled, dragging another folding chair into place. “Half these people aren’t going to sit down anyway.”

“Because,” Quinn said patiently, adjusting a tablecloth, “some of us actually plan ahead for our guests. Unlike you, who once hosted a barbecue with no plates.”

“They had hands,” Jack shot back. “Plates are overrated.” Rae snickered, walking by with a tray of candles.

“Remind me to never let you host anything again.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the first guests began to arrive. The house quickly filled with the sound of laughter and music, the warm glow of the lights reflecting off glasses of wine and cider. Rae flitted between groups, making sure everyone had drinks and saying brief hello’s to most of the families star-struck friends.

Quinn watched her from across the room, a soft smile playing on his lips. She looked radiant, her laughter lighting up the space more than any string of lights could - kindly welcoming the overwhelming amount of photo requests. 

“She’s good at this,” Jack said, sidling up next to him. His tone was light, but there was a note of something deeper—approval, maybe.

“She is,” Quinn agreed, his voice steady. 

Jack studied him for a moment before speaking again. “Look, I know I can be... a lot. But you know I wouldn’t actually do anything to mess things up for you two, right?” Quinn just nods, his gaze still trialing his girlfriend around the party, “She’s perfect for you, Quinn, seriously.” 

Quinn’s gaze shifted to him, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nodded. “I know. But maybe just try to avoid dating scandals with my girlfriend.”

Jack grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “You got it, big brother.”

The rest of the evening was perfect—almost. Quinn found himself watching Rae a little too closely, his mind circling back to those photos. 

He trusted her, of course, but the way the media twisted things left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Could this happen with anyone? 

Would this keep happening as long as they were private? 

As the last guests trickled out and the house quieted, Rae sank onto the couch with a tired sigh. Quinn joined her, handing her a glass of water. She smiled up at him, her eyes soft with gratitude.

“Thanks. I needed that,” she said, taking a sip.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Baby, about earlier…”

She set the glass down, her brow furrowing. “Quinn, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” he interrupted gently. “I know it wasn’t your fault, but seeing those pictures… I guess I realised how much I hate the idea of people thinking you could be with anyone but me.”

Her expression softened, and she reached for his hand. “You shouldn’t worry about that, it’ll be taken care of if it happens again.”

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I know. I just… maybe I don’t want it to happen again.” Rae’s eyebrows lift as she tilts her head in confusion, her stomach dropping at the potential way the conversation should lead. 

“Loving someone this much,” he admitted, his voice low. “It’s terrifying.”Rae’s heart squeezed at the vulnerability in his tone. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, patiently waiting for him to break the bad news. “I think we should—” Rae can’t help the way she zones out, her teeth digging into her lip as she feels the lump grow in her throat. 

Shit, this was it. 

He was breaking up with her. 

“Rae? Baby, are you listening?” Her head shoots back to look at Quinn, his brows furrowed, his free hand lifting to wipe away the small tear rolling down her cheek. “We don’t have to do an instagram post if you want to do something more offical.” He says quickly, his eyes panicked as he adds, “Maybe we should talk with you PR team and see what they think.” 

“Wait, what?” Rae chokes out, he tears stopping almost immediately as she focuses in on what Quinn was saying. 

“What?” Quinn asks back equally confused. 

“You’re not breaking up with me?” 

“What the fuck.” Quinn reels back not understanding how the conversation had ended up here, he thought he was being pretty clear. “I said maybe we should do one of those hard launch instagram posts — you thought I was breaking up with you? Over this?” 

“Don’t make fun of me.” She whines, dropping her head into her hands, letting out a soft chuckle, “I’ve been broken up with for less.” 

“Well you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future. My family likes you too much to let you go” Quinn chuckles, reaching over and pulling her into his arms, pressing soft kisses against her hair as she lets out another embarrassed groan. They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, before Jack’s voice broke the silence.

“Ugh, if you two are gonna get all mushy, at least warn me so I can leave.”

Quinn groaned, pulling back just enough to glare at his brother. “Don’t you have dishes to do?”

Jack held up his hands in surrender, backing out of the room. “Fine, fine. But next time, keep it PG in the common areas.” Rae laughed, resting her head on Quinn’s shoulder. 

“He’s never going to change, is he?”

“Probably not,” Quinn said, his lips brushing her hair again. “But now you have to deal with it too.”

[beanarie]

i never wanted water once part 3

tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity

tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse

part 1

part 2

~

Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"

"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."

Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"

"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."

"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."

And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.

He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.

He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.

The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."

"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.

"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"

"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"

"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You just didn't seem the type to flee."

None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."

"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"You've got shit."

"Haven't we all?"

"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"

"Jesus, Eddie."

"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"

"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"

After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.

Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.

Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"

"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."

"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."

December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.

At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."

"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"

"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"

"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."

Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."

"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."

Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."

He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."

"What do you fear?" Cal asks.

Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."

He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."

"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.

God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"

"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.

He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."

"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.

Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."

"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."

He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.

Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"

He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.

Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.

[zepskies]

Awww yeahhh!! Again, I'm so happy you're reading this little Russell series--thank you again, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)! 🥰💕

I can't wait to dive into the rest of your thoughts on Part 1...

I love their friendship so much 😂 And kudos to Dory. It takes a lot to agree to this. It could potentially get very awkward 😝

Aww I'm so glad you love her and Dory's friendship! They've become that "ride or die" best girlfriends, and Dory strikes me as someone mature enough to handle her best friend dating her formerly estranged brother. loll It really does take a lot! Which is why the reader is being so cautious about even going on a date with Russell. 😅

God, I know. This is honestly what I think about the most when I watch Tracker. The whole story line is insane and intriguing and... 😅 I have a thousand questions, and there's so much you could do with it in fics. I love it (clearly) 😂🤍

Right?! That's what kept me watching, honestly. I still have so many questions, and even in this series I mostly go off of what we know so far in the show while exploring a couple of my own headcanons. Like you said, you can go in infinite directions with their family past, and even Russell's background!

I do think Russell knows a lot more about their past than he lets on. Also, he was way too chipper for someone who was accused of patricide by his own brother for twenty years. The dynamic between the brothers is just... interesting 👀

Oh yeah, definitely. Their mom is VERY SUSS as well. 🤔🤔

Oh, she's going full Reagan! 😂 I sense some trouble coming from the brother, though...

LOL you're spidey senses are correct. Charlie's a piece of work. 😬

Well, I hope he already picked out his casket... 🙈💀

Omgg but you killed me with that scaredy Dean gif from season 1. 🤣���� Like I said, Charlie's a piece of work, an addict, and unfortunately, lashing out at the one person still holding him down. 💙

I'd be a puddle before I even made it to the damn seat 🫠 And they are literally so cute together! I'm full on swooning over here 😍

Ughhhhhh girl SAME. Stick a fork in me with a slab of butter, I'd be DONE.

Ah, yes, the family business. Love that sublte hint 😆 Would be a good name for a brewery, tho 👍

Omgg I'm so glad you caught that!! lmao

Oh yeah, that's catchy. I could so see that on a draft label. 😜🍻

I like that you emphasized the darker parts of his life. Like I said, I don't buy his whole "I'm happy and funny and quirky" act. There's a lot more stirring beneath the charming surface 😅 (Another thing he has in common with Dean lol)

That's definitely not all there is to Russell, so thank you for pointing that out! SO many Deanisms in Russ, but it was pretty clear to me from the get-go (and especially in 2x02) that this guy has an edge, and a lot of experience with the darker shades of the military, despite his bouncy charm lol.

And oh, don't we love a good cry on the first date? Poor thing 😂🤍

Oh God yeah, she was mortified. 😂😂 I thought it would be understandable though, given what just happened with Charlie. 🥲💙

Indeed 😂 I would've loved to be a fly on the wall when Dory had this conversation with her lol How he very eloquently avoided talking about Colter accusing him of murdering their father. I wanna be a fly on the wall for that future convo too 🤣

Ha, ikr! Maybe I'll flash back to that convo in a future ESC story. 🤔

Oh he dodges that real well, doesn't he? 😂 He's going to continue hiding that aspect of things with Colter (I have plans for another sequel story in the future), but he will get into the circumstances around his father's death with her later on...

Loved that she got a punch in before even Russell got there. He might have actually killed that pig lmao

We love a strong heroine, right? 😘 Plus, as the sister of an Air Force/military guy, I felt like Charlie would've taught her how to defend herself. But oh God yeah, Russell might've let his hand "slip." 😬

I'm having vivid flashbacks to Smoke Eater 🥵🔥

Aahahaa I had hoped that moment where he holds her hand would be a nice little Easter egg for people who read Smoke Eater. 😘❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Probably one of my favorite scenes is when characters are so hot for each other they lean against a car. There's just something so incredibly passionate about it 🔥🫠

Clearly we have similar taste on this stuff, because girl YES. 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️‍🔥 Melts me every time I see/read it...

Oh, Russell, this is not what the lady wants to hear. Bless him tho 😂 And I figured she wanted more than a one-night-stand or fling. His job and lifestyle truly is a bit of a problem. But he wanted out anyways, so... 🤞

Bless his heart, he tried to make it sexy loll. And yeeep, not only does she want to tread lightly because he's Dory's brother, but she also isn't typically one for a fling, being an introverted nerdy type lol. Not to say that professors can't get down like that, but this character in particular is more the cautious type. 🤣🤣

I loved their first date! 😍🤍 Hopefully, they'll see each other again soon and might give this another shot. I have a feeling it's gonna involve her brother's bullshit somehow 😅

Aww thank you, friend!! I had so much fun writing their date lol. You already know they're gonna see each other again soon 😏 and your instincts are spot on as usual! Charlie's about to get himself into some trouble that he might just need some help getting out of... 😬😬

As always, reading your lovely, thoughtful and hilarious comments put a huge smile on my face! 😉💓💓

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

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@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Hi I didn't know who else to ask but I like your blog alot and was wondering If you could do Slashers with a lover who in their sleep subconsciously pats their back repeatedly like a baby while hugging them with brahms, Thomas hewitt, and the sinclair brothers included please🩷

a/n: thank you so much and thank you for the request <3 i'm sorry that it took so long, i've just had A LOT going on over the last year and have had barely any time for writing. and since i've been gone for so long, i will admit i'm a bit out of practice so i apologise in advance if this isn't to the standard you were hoping for

mentioned: brahms heelshire, thomas hewitt, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair, lester sinclair

brahms heelshire

brahms has always liked to cuddle with you at night. in fact, before you both started routinely sleeping together, he would sneak into your room at night and simply hold onto you for comfort

he knows that you're not against cuddling, so when he wakes up with your arms locked around him, he isn't surprised

but he is slightly surprised to find that you're patting him on the back as though he were a baby

in all the time that you've been sleeping together, not once have you ever done such a thing

it's a nice surprise, because brahms loves nothing more than physical comfort. your palm lightly tapping against his back calms him, eventually lulling him back to sleep

thomas hewitt

thomas has always enjoyed any form of physical contact with you. since he rarely speaks, physical contact is the only form of affection he can rely on

when he wakes up with your limbs tangled around his body, the first thing he notices is your hand gently patting his back. he can tell that you're asleep from your usual deep breathing so he doesn't have to check whether you're awake

althought this is a new thing that he knows you definitely haven't done before, he doesn't think much of it

instead, he welcomes it and simply allows himself to fall back to sleep, your hand patting his back bringing him nothing but comfort

bo sinclair

when you and bo first started out, he wouldn't so much as let you sleep in the same room as him, so when he feels your hand gently patting his back one night, it's safe to say he's in a state of both annoyance and shock

he knows you know not to be too intimate with him when you're in bed together, so why the hell are you currently patting his back like he's a damn baby?

your face is buried in his chest so he can't tell if you're awake or not so he decides to carefully untangle your limbs from him to get a better look. and to his surprise, you're asleep

he isn't sure what to do, because although he's uncomfortable with it, he also finds it to be oddly comforting. and you're not exactly conscious so it isn't like there's any reason for him to feel awkward, you don't know what you're doing, you don't even know that he knows

in the end, after A LOT of unnecessary deliberation, bo finally decides to just allow you to keep patting his back with your arms locked around his body

he enjoys it, although there is no way he will ever tell you that

vincent sinclair

when vincent wakes up to you patting his back one night, he's confused. especially because a lot of the time, the closest the two of you get when sleeping is when he holds you from behind

so when he wakes up with your face crushed against his chest and your limbs wrapped around his body, his immediate response is to feel a little uncomfortable

he isn't sure if you know that you're currently patting him on the back like he's a baby but he doesn't want to check either in case you're asleep

so he just lays there for a long moment, painfully aware of your hand against his back

he isn't sure whether he likes it, he also doesn't want to stop you

in the end, he decides to just ignore it and go back to sleep

he'll decide if he liked it in the morning

lester sinclair

when lester wakes up to find you're gently patting him on the back, he doesn't even have to think about it before deciding that he loves it and would love for you to do it more often

lester had never really experienced much physical affection before you, so he could care less that your body is currently wrapped around his, with your palm gently beating against his back. he'll take whatever he can get

he loves you and he loves being as close to you as possible so he lets you keep patting his back and eventually drifts back to sleep, content with the fact that you're both so close, in every sense of the word

[Main Masterlist]

[unknownati]

iv. ekko x gn!black!reader hcs

a/n: they got me yall.

sorry for whoever followed me for tlou content we'll be having a brief intermission i'll come back to them in a minute js let me get this out my system 😭🙏🏾

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no mention of reader's features (except for being black, but it's only in a few points 🤷🏾‍♀️ so it can be read otherwise), arcane s2 spoilers (minor), sfw and nsfw hcs, (oral sex, kinks, riding), in some au where everyone is happy and nothing bad ever happened 😊, never proofread we ball 🔥

______________________________________________

sfw:

- i feel like ekko is a bit shy (awkward shy though, not shy-shy...does that make sense) when you first get into a relationship with him, and it's just because he's shocked that he's managed to get with you. at first he's stumbling over words, playing off your compliments, desperately trying to keep eye contact with you but if he does he just keeps smiling because you look so good.

-one time, while riding past you on his hoverboard, you waved at him. he waved back, but even as you walked away his eyes kept following you. if it wasn't for scar warning him at the last second, he would've crashed straight into a wall.

- his cockiness comes later into your relationship, every successful action he does followed by a grin that you roll your eyes at.

-and did y'all see the way he looked at powder in ep. 7? his puppy dog eyes are LETHAL.

-he doesn't even know it either. every time he wants something, he just looks at you with those eyes and murmurs "please, ☆?" you fold so quick.

-(you've tried to learn to resist his eyes as they are what caused you to sprain your ankle in a hoverboarding accident since he begged you to race him. he just wanted to show off, too. he didn't stop apologizing for weeks.)

-he usually doesn't really like people touching his hair. he's fine with the kids doing it from time to time, but in general it's not his favorite thing in the world.

-you, however

-you get a pass because you get it. you know how it feels for your hair to just be like a petting zoo from time to time. you know exactly how to help him care for his hair, so much so that he's stopped doing his own retwists. (not like they stay in for very long, you immediately help him sweat it out 😊)

-he's made a lot of random little things for you, like a small chain necklace with an empty locket. he kind of sucks at wrapping gifts though, so he just handed it to you with a stupid smile while you two were perched at the top of the firelight tree.

-"ekko, this is so cute," you mutter, your bottom lip jutted out in adoration as you inspect the delicately crafted chain. small mistakes here and there, but you loved it.

-he also learned how to sew just so he could make you a bonnet/durag. he even sewed a crude little "e" in the corner of it, and made himself one with your initial in it as well.

-will randomly shadow box you out of no where. it's some form of cuteness aggression or something, because you'll be talking about your day while absent-mindedly twiddling with the hem of your shirt, and suddenly there are fists flying towards you that he knows to never let connect.

-"...ekko, the fuck are you doing?"

-he makes small noises that sound like "shoo" every time his fist flies, watching you stare at him with an unimpressed look.

-saw someone else say this but yeah ekko can't hoop. sorry

-he CANNOT hide his facial expressions. he may tell you one thing, but his face will never lie. if you're out eating and you feed him a bite of your food, you can watch his face contort into one of disgust, so much so that he almost looks offended. upon realizing that he doesn't want to yuck your yum, he'll fix his face into the fakest smile you've ever seen and nod.

-"...ekko, go spit it out."

-you've never seen him reach for a napkin any quicker.

-idk who the arcane universe's michael jackson is but, when he was younger he absolutely learned all the dances.

-probably the biggest softie the world has ever seen. he's very tough in public, but once he closes the door behind you two and climbs into bed with you, he's clinging onto you like a sloth.

-if you like painting your nails, he'll (hesitantly) allow you to paint his nails to match yours.

-(these next few ones are sliiightly for me 🤭)

-loves when you draw on his arms.

-until he can't get whatever marker you used off of his skin in the shower, so now he's walking around looking like a coloring book with little flowers, hearts, and signatures on his arms.

-he hangs up all the drawings you make of him up along his work space. sometimes he forgets one and leaves it on his desk, so it's a pleasant surprise to find a drawing of himself among scattered and disorganized papers while he was cleaning up.

-has gotten used to you randomly biting him. you'll come up behind him while he's working, and he already knows it's coming when you rest your chin on his exposed shoulder. 2 seconds later, your teeth are sinking into his skin. he just chuckles, but he does ask once.

-"why do you do that?"

-"oh, i dunno. i just like doing it. 's how you know i like you."

nsfw (very brief i'm sorry):

-praise kink. you couldn't tell me otherwise

-loves giving praise, loves receiving praise.

-when he's giving you head, he almost does it for his own pleasure. feeling your hand rub against his undercut while you whine and mutter "fuuuck, ekko, you're so good. don't stop please" is all he needs

-and i'm glad we've all agreed he's a thigh guy too 🙌🏾

-and IK we say this about every fictional man but HE WHIMPERS.

-he starts off with groans and grunts, but the closer he gets, the more his voice starts to shake and his words start to become whines.

-he looooves when you ride him holy shit

-looking up at you while your face contorts in pleasure is absolutely on his top 10.

-and if you stare into his eyes while you do it? his soul has left thanks!

-in general he loves eye contact. when you look up at him with his length between your lips, you can see his brain start to short-circuit.

-he's definitely the type to make sure you finish first before he even gets to think about his own pleasure.

-he's usually super sleepy afterwards too, but he refuses to lay down for a second until he makes sure you're all cleaned up and comfortable before he's out cold on your chest.

______________________________________________

[wheels-of-despair]

Moment of Truth Pairing: Eddie Munson x Evil Woman Summary: Eddie is forced to have a terrifying conversation. Contains: Awkwardness, unnecessary panic, family fluff. Words: 1.4k

Eddie Munson lifts his fist to a familiar door and hesitates before knocking on it. Is he really doing this? Does this even need to be done? Can't he just…

He can feel Wayne glaring at him from across town.

He sighs and knocks gently, scrunching his eyes shut and bracing himself. He hears footsteps approach. The click of a lock. The creak of the door opening. He feels the warmth from within.

"I'd ask what you're doing up this early, but it would appear you've fallen asleep on my doorstep," an amused voice says.

Eddie opens his eyes, so nervous that he can't give that excellent greeting the smile it deserves.

"What's wrong, honey?"

It's just Mary. His girlfriend's mom. A person who feeds him multiple times a week. Keeps the cabinets stocked with his favorite snacks. Has never yelled at him or told him to get out of her house. Has declared him her favorite child, even though he's not really hers. Made him a Christmas stocking and a dang Easter basket. Why is this so hard? Why is Eddie Munson, loud-ass Eddie Munson who never shuts up, suddenly unable to form a single word?

"Do you want me to go get--" Mary gestures vaguely behind her, but Eddie shakes his head quickly. She tilts her head to the side, analyzing him. Probably seeing right through him. He's doomed. He braces himself when she opens her mouth to speak again, but what comes out is, "Will you at least come in before you catch a cold?"

Eddie stands there for a few seconds, stunned. When he comes to his senses, he nods once, and she stands aside to let him into the kitchen. Once he's inside, his body leads him to the table. To his chair. He's here so often, he has his own spot at the table. He stares at the wood grain and focuses on his breathing, trying to gather his courage. This should not be so fucking hard.

A cup of coffee slides into view. The one with the Garfield comic on it. His favorite. He reaches for the cup and takes a drink, hoping it will give him the jolt he needs.

The woman even knows how he takes his fucking coffee.

Eddie blows out a long breath and looks up at her, sitting across from him. Still in her bathrobe. Hands around her steaming mug. A curious look on her face.

"I love your daughter," Eddie finally gets out.

"I've always suspected," Mary says, trying to hide her smile behind her coffee cup.

Eddie feels a little less nervous and a little more at home with each passing second. Maybe the coffee warmed up whatever part of his brain froze on the way over here.

"I've been talking to Wayne," he explains, the words finally coming to him. "And he says you have to get the father's permission to ask a girl to marry you. I told him it was an old and outdated tradition and she'd probably kick my ass and lecture me about women's lib or something, but he insisted. 'That's the way we do things, boy'," Eddie says in his best Wayne impression. He looks up for a reaction, but there isn't one. He clears his throat and continues. "And I know she doesn't give a flying… crap about her old man. She'd die laughing if she thought I asked Gareth permission for anything. So can I ask you?"

Mary takes another sip of her coffee and appears to consider it. That's good, right? She puts her cup down and leans forward, lacing her fingers on the table. He's dead, he's so dead.

"Edward?"

"Yes, ma'am?" he asks, trying not to tremble.

"Are you asking for my permission to ask me a question?"

Eddie feels his face flush, but he nods.

"Proceed," she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair with a smirk that she definitely passed on to her daughter. Of course she's not going to make this easy on him. He gathers his courage. Moment of truth. Now or never. He can do this.

"CanImarryyourdaughter?"

Eddie's world stops as his words - or is just one big word? - hang in the air. He can't breathe. He can't blink. All he can do is watch the face of the person who will decide his fate. She considers it for what feels like ages, but eventually, a twinkle in her eye gives him hope.

"Eddie?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"What took you so damn long?"

Eddie lets out the breath he's been holding all morning, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. That's a yes. They laugh together and sip their coffee quietly for a moment.

"You know," she says softly, "I put on a brave face for the kids, but I was so nervous about moving here. Starting over is terrifying. It really could've gone either way. Those first few weeks weren't great. The kids didn't know anybody. Couldn't even get them to leave the house. Hawkins felt so different from home. I was starting to think we'd made a huge mistake... and then, school started. Gareth came home rambling about joining a real Dungeons and Dragons club with his new friends. And you know what my daughter said to me, after her first day at her new school? Something she'd been dreading and griping about for months?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"She said, 'Mom, I'm gonna marry the guy I sat next to in homeroom.'"

Eddie's eyes fill with tears. Mary reaches across the table and puts her hand on his.

"You've been a part of this family since the day my kids met you, Eddie," she smiles. "So yes. Yes, you absolutely have my permission to make it official and marry my daughter."

"Thank you," he whispers, wiping his stupid eyes with his free hand. Stop leaking! This is a happy occasion!

"After you both graduate," she says firmly.

Eddie nods his head in agreement.

"Why are you here?" a sleepy voice asks from behind him. Eddie whirls around in his chair and spots his future wife standing in the doorway in rumpled pajamas and messy hair. He'll never love anyone else. "And more importantly, why are you crying?" she asks, suddenly more awake.

"I'm not crying," he argues.

"Mom, what'd you do to him?" she accuses, coming to stand behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. "You know I'm the only one allowed to make him cry!"

"I'm not crying, dammit!" he insists, wiping his eyes with his fists.

"Who's crying?" Gareth yawns, appearing in the doorway.

"All of us, now that you've cloaked us in that cloud of toxic fumes you call morning breath," the Evil One snarks. Gareth sticks out his tongue and breathes at her, and she pretends to stagger and faint, landing in the chair next to Eddie. She smiles and reaches out to move a stray strand of hair out of his face.

"I'm making a breakfast casserole," her mom announces, getting up from the table.

"That takes forever," Gareth whines.

"Then go back to sleep 'til it's ready," she answers, opening a cabinet and pulling out a mixing bowl.

"Do you need help?" her daughter asks dutifully, while her son drags his feet into the living room and collapses on the couch with a grunt.

"Nope," comes the answer. "Go back to bed, you sad excuses for teenagers are all up unnaturally early."

The love of Eddie's life looks at him with tired eyes and nods her head toward the bedroom. Taking the hint, Eddie gets up and pushes his chair in. She leaves the kitchen, yawning as she goes, knowing he'll follow.

"Hey," Mary says quietly, before Eddie disappears from sight. He slowly turns to face her. She crosses the room quickly and pulls him in for a hug. "You can call me Mom if you want to."

"Really?" he whispers. Mom. That's going to take some getting used to.

"Yeah," she says, pulling back to give him a meaningful look. "But I'd rather not be Grandma just yet, if you catch my drift."

"Yes, ma'am," he says quickly, feeling his face go red again.

"Go take a nap, favorite child of mine, I'll call you when breakfast is ready."

"Kay," he grins, spinning around and heading for bed with his future fiancée.

[seongieluvr]

your sunghoon anal scenario 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m thinking

okay I got a lil carried away but I hope you enjoy <3

— cw ; anal, oral (f rec), sunghoon is kinda mean but not really, slight ass eating, spit, degradation, praise, pet names, I think that's it

walk with me here for a bit...sunghoon looooves fucking you, like he's convinced there is no better feeling in the world than your cunt wrapped around his cock. and it pacifies him and his high sex drive, but you need more. and so you suggest anal to him.

and at first, he shuts down the idea. he doesn't think it'll feel good for either of you, plus he's super scared of accidentally hurting you and he would never be able to come back from that, knowing he hurt the only thing he's ever really loved.

but after enough coaxing, he is willing to try it, if it means it'll make his baby happy.

and that's how his new obsession starts. the first time he fucks your ass, it's awkward and uncomfortable, but once you both get used to the feeling...he hates that he denied him and you of this for so long.

he almost always wants to fuck your ass, he would never tell you, but he thinks he almost prefers it over fucking your pussy.

he loses his fucking mind when your face is squished into the pillows and your ass is the air, cunt dripping from your first orgasm and his spit from him eating you out just moments before.

"you look so fucking pathetic like this," he growls. he grabs one of your asscheeks and gawks at your tight hole. "literally begging for me to fuck your ass like a fucking whore." he collects a wad of spit before letting it slip for his mouth and onto your hole before rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, collecting your arousal.

he presses his tip to the tight ring and you whine, moving your hips back to gain any kind of friction to your neglected hole. "ah, ah, not so fast, doll." he coos. "are you really this needy? I haven't even properly fucked you yet, yeah?"

you look up at your boyfriend through teary lashes, unable to form any coherent sentence or words. all you knew was sunghoon, and you were going insane that you were being deprived of the one thing you needed most.

"p-please, hoon..." you cry, drool dribbling down your chin and onto the pillows.

"please what, angel? you gotta use your big girl words to get what you want, you know this." he replies, sliding his cock between your cheeks, making a mess of spit and cum.

"fuck me...please. please, fuck my ass...I promise to be good." you whine, tears forming on your waterline.

sunghoon smirks devilishly, a tiny fang poking between his lips. "aren't you just so precious..." he takes his free hand and smoothes your hair from your face. "and who am I to deny such an obedient little anal whore?"

he presses his tip into your hole and hisses, his bottom lip going between his teeth. "fuck, doll...how are you still so fucking tight?"

you moan into the pillows as he stuffs your ass full of his thick cock, feeling every single inch going deeper and deeper until he is fully sheathed inside you.

sunghoon groans when he bottoms out in you and doesn't give you much time to adjust to him before he's pulling out to the tip just to slam back into you.

"such a sweet little angel, aren't ya? lettin' me use your ass like this...letting me mold you to the shape of my cock, knowing no one will ever fuck you the way I do." he spits as he thrusts in and out of you, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt.

your mind is blank and your pussy clenches on nothing. all you want is to cum and for sunghoon to cum in you. "h-hoonie..." you murmur. "p-please fill my ass..."

sunghoon laughs lowly at your plea. "already planned on it, doll."

it didn't take many more thrusts from sunghoon for you to feel the coil in your stomach on the verge of breaking. "'m close, hoon."

"fuck, me too, baby." he grunts as he slips back into your hole. "god, you take me so well...such a good little doll for me..."

the coil breaks and your coming around nothing, feeling it drip out of your cunt and onto your thighs, whining sunghoon's name over and over like a mantra, like it's the only word you know. and right now, it is.

"gonna cum in this tight little ass, fill you up and watch it spill out..." sunghoon pants, and with another thrust, you feel thick ropes paint your walls. he stills inside you, making sure not a single drop spills out before he wants.

he pulls his softening cock out and watches as his cum dribbles out and onto your cunt. he smiles proudly to himself before leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your cunt and to your spent hole, humming at the tastes of you and himself.

you sigh blissfully as sunghoon laps at your cunt and ass, letting him do as he pleases.

"you're so perfect, you know that? my pretty little whore."

[miammey]

Everyone's just talking about how hot Lighter is, and yeah he's attractive, but he has such a painful story and barely anyone is mentioning it??? I haven't even finished all his hangout stuff yet, but already I can tell that he's still extremely troubled by what happened in his past.

During the film we watch with him he wasn't scared of the blood and gore, mainly since there wasn't as much as expected (and he wore his glasses so he wouldn't faint), but he was scared about what one of the characters did that caused a disaster, something he relates to in a sense, saying that even if he looked calm his hands were shaking. I wanted to tell him that he can stay and calm down all he wants, give him a more relaxing movie to watch free of charge, because to me he felt so uncomfortable after watching the movie because he didn't expect it to hit so close

And don't get me started on this man's physical injuries. He's covered in MASSIVE scars, realistically, if we were to map out how they got there, he would've nearly had his arm cut off or just be cut in half. He mentioned that another reason he wears sunglasses is because of an old injury, even tho it's basically already healed he just no longer feels comfortable going out without them. He mentioned his neck and legs weren't what they once were, and judging by his backstory that's mainly because he's always fighting. He's the type to strain himself to whatever extent necessary do get the task done

He also is just genuinely so attached to his gang and so scared of losing them, but even then he stays strong because others need him to. He also saw Caesar almost die, his leader and a good friend, and yet he stayed strong for Lucy. He goes off by himself to deal with things because he doesn't want to get others in the gang involved, and he's just so genuinely earnest. He's caring and awkward and bad at hiding it, but he's still that Champion, a position he takes pride in because it means he's succeeding at protecting his loved ones, something he failed to do in the past

Speaking of the past, back to him being self-sacrificing, he went into debt and basically signed his life away to pay it off after his group all died all to make sure their families were taken care of. He knew that businessmen were greedy and there's a good chance it would take decades for him to pay them off, if he ever would, but he still did it. He described himself as a zombie back then, and only until after he got comfortable with the gang did he break out of that state

I know people gawk over attractive characters, I can't say I don't as well at times, but every time he's on screen and anything even remotely seems to upset him I just wanna make him comfortable. He's relaxed, but not comfortable, and I don't think he's been comfortable for a very long time. He says everything's in the past, but I'm pretty sure he's still trying to convince himself of that, because what happened in his past had such a big impact on his future that it's still in the back of his mind day in and day out

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

jayvik headcanons because my heart is happy but also hurts.

these take place either in that special part of s1 act 1 where nothing went wrong with them yet OR in a special universe where nothing will ever go wrong ever <3

Viktor either talks endlessly or has periods of silence Jayce listens to every word and responds but also knows when it's just silent 'be together time".

Jayce talks a lot as well, but he'll start a subject, pause for a few hours, then continue on later as if he didn't take a break. Viktor fully understands this.

They are literally each other's worst hype man. the words "no, don't do that" have rarely been uttered in their lab. if they are it's about not eating/sleeping or something unrelated to science. these men are "yes, and" till the very end.

Heimerdinger laughs anytime someone is like "At least Talis has someone to calm him down now!" Because like. His assistant (who he should apologize to for not encouraging him more) is literally insane.

Jayce can charm the pants off of anyone in order to gain something, but only at a gala or function. Only works on the rich. He's gotten him and Viktor bigger labs, lots of funding, new things.

Viktor, however, either intentionally or unintentionally, gets free shit all the time from local owners/regular workers because his natural snark and calm demeanor (plus the looks and accent) have people eating out of the palm of his hand.

He's unaware his usual drink/breakfast order costs less then it should and is more portioned. A local bookstore owner gives him the best copies.

Viktor mentions Singed one time and Jayce was like. no wonder you failed lab safety three times. is like okay you're never seeing that man ever again.

Jayce is very artistically inclined. Musically or visually. He can sing (doesn't like to in front of many people) and sings often to only his mom, Viktor, and maybe Caitlyn. Has the best music taste. A bookshelf full of records.

Viktor is fantastic with kids to the point he has a mom fan club. (Some dads too). This is because he took over for a science lab for a week to help out an old colleague and by the end the back row was filled with parents just watching and listening because their kids were actually interested in school for the first time ever

Jayce....is awkward with kids. He likes them, but my man does not know how to deal. He likes babies because they're small and cute, will hold a baby all day. but toddlers and kids? what do you discuss with them? taxes?

both avoid older kids and teens like the plague though. it's understandable. have you meet a thirteen year old? scary.

Viktor didn't even notice until Caitlyn pointed it out (very coyly) that pretty much all the clothes and accessories he has are in Talis house colors. Jayce did it intentionally 100%.

Viktor wanders whenever theyre out traveling. Jayce blinks and suddenly Viktor is halfway up the road or a new item has caught his eye.

[imthepunchlord]

Woes of the Cuddler

If there was one thing Okarun was not forewarned about, was the adoption of yokai quirks. Quirks he had a hard time controlling. Quirks he wished Turbo Granny had mentioned to him. But it would be just like her to not, leaving him to learn as they come and reveal themselves, and how they uproot his life.

Like the restlessness of the moon and the night. Something about the soft illumination and the darkness of shadows just gives him energy. It was especially hard trying to sleep during a full moon. It was like it ignited a blaze through his veins and he just couldn't settle. Or when he did, he would wake up to find himself transformed, wandering restless through the night, as if he was trying to get out. Okarun was nervous on where he was trying to go.

There was emotional irritability. He found himself upset more easily. And the stronger the ugly emotions were, the more likely he was to shift, entering a weird shift that would soothe that internal blaze, but also focus it, direct that fire of emotions where he wants them to be.

There was a natural want to withdraw, sink into the shadows and himself. Mindful, he's always been an awkward fellow, after all, so this could just be from him. But, he doesn't think so, this was a bit different than him just wanting to bow his head and move about unnoticed. He wanted to go to places that no one would tread. He wanted to sit in solitude. To go deaf from silence. And it was always ruined or haunted locations that now just naturally caught his eye. It's what made him think this was a yokai thing. They always existed in locations with dark history, haunted by a cruel past.

The worst quirk, in Okarun's opinion though, was the sense of possessiveness and desire he felt. He's come to learn that yokai cling to what's precious to them. Guarding it with a jealous fervor. Resistive and infuriated of even the slim thought of sharing what is precious. And for Okarun, as some odd psuedo yokai, he's found that precious that he clings to, that he holds so dear he's not sure he could bring himself to let go.

What's precious to Okarun was Miss Ayase herself.

And that fact unnerved him.

Terrified him even.

Depressed and low energy as he was in his cursed form, yokai were beings that struggled with emotional control, struggled to be reasoned with. And with Acro Silky, he got to see first hand how yokai can respond to a human being they found precious. How she turned on Miss Shiratori for not acting as she wanted or expected.

What if he does something like that one day?

What if Miss Ayase does something he dislikes, and there's no control and he hurts her over it?

The thought of the possibility makes him sick.

And it's made worse by the shine of the full moon, how it seemed to grasp his unconscious and manifests his form, how it acts without his knowing, running on instinct and want.

He does what he can to be careful, to keep her at arm's length, to make sure she's safe and that he won't hurt her. But all that does is frustrate his yokai nature. And when he shifts as he needs to, all that he holds back just comes pouring out. He initiates touch when he wouldn't dare, to feel her warmth in his hands, sending a pleasant tingle that soothed the cold that clung to him. He would hold her close, like the treasure she was, pressed against his chest and his core. Like she was meant to be there, in his arms. Her warmth would spread more over him, her scent would fill his nose, and he could feel the echo of her heart coursing through him, and it seemed to add to his own.

Her name would dance freely upon his lips. He would hear the song of it in his own voice, feel the bliss in how natural it was to breathe it, to say her name as if it was a sacred word. To stress just how precious and dear she was to him.

He would do all that he wanted to do, no filter of fear to hold him back, doing what felt natural, what he desired.

And he always had a linger of horror in the back of his mind just how casual being a yokai made him.

His clear fondness for her in voice and name.

How openly he'd admit to missing her.

That natural pull to just touch her without flustered fear.

It was all so embarrassing.

Made worse that Miss Ayase herself just never had any issue with these. Does she not consider the risks that he's a yokai that seems fond of her? Didn't she see how Acro Silky responded to Miss Shiratori? What if he takes that big mouth, and bites her one day because she did something that upset him?

The fear of the possibility just never seems to come to Miss Ayase's mind.

He's both touched and scared that she just seems to have such faith him.

Which does give him resolve to make sure he stands up to that faith.

And he's been able to.

Sleeping over at the Ayase's residence a few times with no issues, even during a full moon, when Okarun agreed to a big sleepover that Miss Ayase was hosting, he didn't think anything would happen. That he would keep the yokai wants under control as he did before. It was just going to be like any other night.

But as the home went dark, and the light of the full moon shown down upon his sleeping form, he started to twitch and jerk, his black hair turning white with red streaks, red and black tendrils reaching out from his night shirt. Silently, he sat up, his red eyes foggy with sleep as he gazed around for a moment. Jiji was asleep beside him, oblivious to the world and the yokai sitting at his backside. Okarun sniffed the air, and there was a flicker in his red eyes, an awareness of where he was. Like a puppet on a string, he silently crept through the halls of the home, reaching Momo's room in seconds.

Her door opened without a sound, as if shy to make a noise in his presence. There, he saw Aira and Vamola on the floor, sound asleep. Upon the bed was Momo herself, sleeping at the foot of the bed, away from her pillow. He drew near the girls on the floor, reaching for their sleeping bags. Gripping the ends, he dragged them gently out of the room, back into the den where Jiji slept soundly. Going past them, he returned to Momo's room, closing the door behind him, securing that this space was just theirs. He came to loom over the bed, where she slept soundly, ever twitching from where she lay. Taking her pillow and moving it towards her head, Okarun followed it onto the mattress, laying down beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight, and Momo was rolled closer to him, her warmth coming to lightly press at his side.

The pleasantness of it had him sighing.

Yes.

This was where he should be.

Where everything about her was here, at it's strongest. Her space. And he could lay here, welcomed to join her in the center of it.

But to lay here with her lightly touching him wasn't enough. The yokai reached for her, to pull her close where she's meant to be, truly pressed against him, only for Momo to roll away, mumbling in her sleep. 

He paused, a little surprised that she drew away from his reach. That didn't happen often.

The surprise didn't linger long, knowing she was a restless sleeper. Unbothered, he reached for her again, only she wiggled her down, past his reaching hands. He sat up, giving her sleeping form a pout. It was just like her to make this difficult. His hands drew near once more and Momo just rolled herself away, now on the other side of the bed. She seemed to know unconsciously that this was where the head of her bed was, her hand going about, patting for her pillow.

With a slight apologetic wince, he quickly returned the pillow to it's rightful place.

Momo immediately latched onto it, hugging it her chest with a happy sigh. 

Okarun then felt a slight bit of annoyance.

He wanted to be that pillow.

Why did he even give it back? He couldn't been in that pillow's place.

"What a bummer," he mumbled to the air, adjusting himself to lay beside her. Even if there was a pillow between them, he'll still take the chance to hold her.

Only it seems the sleeping Momo wasn't satisfied with the pillow a cuddling companion, and shoved it away, right into Okaruns' face. She flipped over with a huff, kicking at the sheets in frustration, sending most of them to the floor.

Okarun sat up, rubbing his nose from the pillow assault, and then quickly reached for the covers, saving them from falling to the floor. Knowing on some level how much colder he was in this form, he adjusted them, laying them over himself and Momo. Dropping back down with a sigh, he gave it another go, reaching for her.

Momo though didn't like the covers on her. She started to shift and squirm, and Okarun had a start when she started to wiggle her way off the bed. His hands moved quickly then, grasping her as gently as possible, sighing in relief once he finally got a hold of her. Not letting her go this time, he started to pull her close, finally happy to have her in his grasp, to get her to where he wants her to be, so that he can be where he wants to be.

Momo of course is not one to make it easy for the cursed boy.

She twisted about, her hand going flying through the air, coming to smack on his face.

He went still in surprise. Not that it hurt, but definitely surprised. He shifted, nudging the hand away, making a sort of an affectionate hum that echoed a scoff and chuckle. He pressed a light kiss to her palm, enjoying the soft warm skin on his lips, and pulled her close, this time successful and pressing her against him. There was one more big squirm from Momo before she too finally seemed to settle, it was almost as if she needed him to. In the back of his mind, he had some inkling that that was a hubris thought, but in this sleepy state, it was a thought that brought him happiness. It grew as her arm came up to wrap around his middle, to hold him just as close, while her other hand gripped at his night shirt. It was like she wanted him there, to make sure he would stay. She sighed in content, nuzzling his collar in her sleep.

There was a bubble of a pleased sound from him and he returned that nuzzle on the crown on her head, everything about her surrounding him, happy to be where he wanted to be. He returned to the oblivion of sleep, the curse receding and returning him to how he was in it's satisfaction. Even as the full moon's glow cascaded over them, he slept deeply, and Momo, for once, slept still.

Hours of the night passed, inching for the nearing dawn.

Upon the first light that poked Momo's brow, she stirred with a hum.

She felt cozy and comfortable, surrounding by warmth. Usually her mornings were a lot more... constricted from being entangled in her blanket. Or cold from wiggling herself free. But this, this was nice. So nice she kinda wanted to go back to sleep. But there was that inner twitch in her, a flicker to get up and ready for her day. A restless need to rise with the dawn. So with a shift, she stretched, and went still, realizing that this cozy warmth was holding her still. And it was actually rather firm.

Eyes snapping open, Momo blinked at the dark fabric in front of her face. Said fabric extended up, to a shoulder that loomed over her, an arm coming from it, wrapped around her middle. There was a hand lazily pressed against her back, fingers twitching slightly in sleep. Momo looked up, her nose bumping against Okarun's chin, her eyes coming to settle on his sleeping face.

Momo stared, gawking in surprise to see Okarun there.

Her immediate thought was that she maybe sleep walked to him, only to realize that she was in her room, and they were in her bed, all tangled up.

Flushing, she wiggled herself up, only to go still as his arms tightened around her. He groaned in protest, coming to curl around her, pressing his face into her stomach.

She flushed, not used to seeing such behavior from Okarun, At least, not as he is. When he shifted into his curse form, yeah this she's come to expect. But as himself? It was weird. Not unpleasant, she can appreciate the boldness, but not right now with her. Looking around, Momo saw that Aira and Vamola were gone. She flushed even more. Did they see?

No, wait, Their actual sleeping bags were gone... why were they gone?

Still a little red, but more baffled now, she turned back to the boy clinging to her in sleep, giving his head a few light pokes. "What did you do?" she quietly wondered.

She was ignored, Okarun it seems was determined to keep on sleeping.

"Okarun," she prompted, giving him a more pokes.

There was something of a protesting groan, that sounded a little throatier than she expected. When he cracked one eye open, she saw a hue of red in his brown eyes, as if he close to shifting.

Momo swallowed a little at the intensity of the groggy gaze peering up at her."What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Sleeping," he mumbled, his voice torn between the softness of the boy and the gruffness of the yokai. Finding that the answer was satisfactory, he closed his eye, ready to go back to sleep.

"Where's Aira and Vamola?" Momo pressed.

"Jiji," came the grumpy answer. Seemingly annoyed with Momo's questioning, she squeaked in surprise as she was flipped over. She plopped back down on her bed, pulled close for more cuddles, his cheek pressed against her own. Okarun looked ready to just fall back asleep, having a happy sigh.

Momo was absolutely not though.

"Why are you even in my bed?" she demanded, reaching up to grasp his arm.

Okarun suddenly went stiff and still.

Momo watched as his brown eyes opened, no more having a tinge of red, staring right into her own pink-brown eyes.

He stared.

Momo stared back, brow raised as she waited for his answer.

Okarun blinked a few times, and the reality of the situation seemed to click.

Quite suddenly, he withdrew from her, was out of the bed, and speeding out of the door, shouting, "I'M SO SORRY!!"

Momo was left in surprise, gawking after him. For a second, she noted how cold it suddenly was before Okarun's escape caught up to her. "That's not an answer!" she snapped, leaping out of bed and racing after him. In their mad sprint, they startled their friends awake, though grumpy Aira just rolled over back to bed while Jiji and Vamola just squinted after them in groggy confusion.

In her rush, it didn't take Momo long to corner Okarun, the ball defaulting to cowering down in a corner while she loomed over him, caging him in. "Okarun, seriously, what were you doing in my bed?"

"It-it was a mistake!" he cried out in flushed panic, "Won't happen again!"

"That doesn't answer my question!" she snapped.

Okarun just groaned pitifully, trying to bury his red face in his hands.

Sighing, Momo eased back, giving him some breathing room, and waited. After a few minutes, she tried again. "What's going on, Okarun?"

"...The moon," he mumbled.

"Hah?"

"Th-the full moon," Okarun clarified, peeking at her past his fingers. "It uh, it manifests the curse."

"So, you just transform?" she asked, watching him nod sheepishly. She tried to figure out how this got him into her bed. Cause he was himself at the core when he shifted. He was just gloomy, and lacked a filter.

"It, uh, I kinda transform unconsciously," Okarun revealed, "and, and I kinda... just act on instinct. I'd wake up to me sleepwalking around my home, like I'm trying to go somewhere." He thinks he's trying to find his way here. "I, I'm sorry, Miss Ayase. I, I must have crawled into your..." He couldn't even dare finish the sentence. He was so embarrassed.

"So, you just wanted to cuddle?" she asked, unable to deny the happy feeling it brought. Aira and Vamola were also in the room, and out of them, he wanted to cuddle with her. That did make her feel special.

Okarun just whimpered, trying to curl in on himself.

"Wait," she recalled, "why did you move Aira and Vamola out of the room then?"

Okarun peeked up at her, echoing her confusion. "I-I don't know. I don't remember... they're gone from your room?"

"You said they're with Jiji?"

"I don't know," Okarun bemoaned, blushing and turning away.

For a minute, they stood in silence, Momo watching as Okarun agonized over last night. Tentatively, she reached out, lightly threading her fingers through his messy bedhead. Okarun went still, then his body moved on it's own, pressing up to her touch like a cat wanting pets. His face was still red though, squinting in happiness and embarrassment. Momo offered, "If it helps, I slept great last night."

His head dropped from her touch, turning to hide his face from her. Quietly, he admitted, "I did too."

Momo smiled. "I'm glad. And hey, I don't mind cuddling with you, Okarun, just give me a heads up next time."

"Miss Ayase!" he cried out in protest as Momo walked away, ready to get breakfast going. She was right in concluding he was going to need a minute before he could rejoin them inside.

[lemonmaid]

Poly Taskforce x Baker! Reader

A small part two, I had the idea while working today. It is very apparent that I just started watching Dexter.

Warnings: talks about murder. Gender neutral reader

To say Simon was smitten witn you could be an understatement.

Simon went far along to change his hours, Johnny complained about it for weeks, always mumbling in the ealry morning "why we need to open thus early? No one is gonna wanna have meat at 6 am".

He will always be there whenever you text or call, you want him to double check to make sure the store is locked up? No problem, you're lucky he lives above the shops.

The seasons were changing fast, the forcast called for snow later today. The door slammed open, "Has anyone seen john? I wanted to ask him to get lamb meat for these Shepherd pies I gotta make for the holiday season". Ah there you were in all your glory, you were wrapped up tight in layers of clothing.

"What's wrong with Si's meat- OW! Fuck Si, was kiddin'", Johnny rubbed the back of his head, mumbling before walking to the back freezer.

You looked at the two with an awkward expression, "Nothinh, i just wanted fresher lamb, anyways- Simon do you think you can look at my oven again? I think it's not heating right".

And see you in your cute white apron and pretend your his bonnie? Of course.

Simon hummed, "light probably out again, i can check it later tonight".

You smiled, "thanks Si, probably be lost without you".

The rest of the day was slow, slow to the point Johnny said he is gonna hit the pub early even though it was a bit of a walk. Simon really didn't want to work the front end, he hates talking to people kinda mutish but will carry a conversation if needed. Johnny did the talking for him, been talking and hasn't stop talking since primary school, hell the two were so close that Simon could call Johnny's ma his own. Johnny was always there, even when Simon didn't want to see his ugly mug, Johnny was there.

The front door chimed, Simon groaned, taking off his gloves and walked to the cash register, there was Kyle.

"Needing something Gaz?"

Kyle rolled his eyes at the nickname, they used to play together for their schools Rugby Team, their nicknames sticked together like glue. "Nah I just need your opinion on something".

Simon nodded, "police work?".

Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, "Yall need be safe out there tonight, another body was found in miller's creek- which i wanted to ask you simon- what does this look like to you".

Simon looked at the pictures, he's got to hand to the killer, these cuts are professional, "looks like a clear Butcher cut"

Kyle hummed, "do you mind coming down to the station to give a statement? I think we would like your word-"

Simon crossed his arms, "You're not accusing me right Deputy?"

I mean, it was a good guess. There's only two Butcher shops in town, Simon's store was in the middle of no where and the other was three miles out of town, he's got to hand it to the killer, he does know his way around a blade. And after the incident that happened when he was a kid, wouldn't put it past Kyle for assuming him.

"Oh god, of course not Si! Listen the sheriff wants to figured out quick- doesn't want to alarm the folks here or more rumors".

Oh of course, Simon is aware of how people just talk in this town. A couple of years ago there was rumors of him and Johnny being a couple on the count of they don't go to church, old crazy people.

Just as they were bout to leave, Johns truck comes in speeding.

"Kyle! We need a immediate medic attention".

In the passenger seat was Johnny, very bloodied, beaten beyond recognition.

The bastard went to far.

[palaceofpassion]

The Thoughts of Those Above

How strange, one would have thought that the prissy little heiress would have been the MOST apposed to a man attending to the needs and ailments of four young, proper women. But, to everyone's surprise, how rude of them, Weiss had adjusted surprisingly fast!

It helped, perhaps, that she was used to having men and women wait on her every word. She was after all, rich, so having another butler around meant little to her... though to her surprise, he was quite apt at what he did. She couldn't help but notice how quickly he moved around, doing chores one moment, and fixing up something the next.

It had been... a strange experience, she was SURE he would flirt with her, just like every young man their equivalent age did. However, perhaps due to their different statuses, he seemed mostly ambivalent to her. Of course, she caught him staring every now and then, though it was small polite glances. And it was only when she was looking his way already.

These moments often lead to an awkward grin as he gave her a curt nod or a wave, and carried on. She would roll her eyes of course, at least, that's how it started...

But to her surprise she found herself warming up, rather quickly, to him.

In fact, two weeks in, and she'd found herself enjoying his company. Not in any way romantic of course, he was far too nerdy for her... though, having him NOT flirt with her every chance he got was... endearing.

Perhaps she had low standards?

"Jaune."

"Hmm?" The young man turned his attention to the snow white heiress.

"I didn't ask for tea..." She turned her attention to him, noting the cup and kettle in his hands.

"Oh uh, right, right." He blushed a little, that pure red dust brushing across his cheeks. "I uh, noticed you seemed to be a little frustrated, with your studying and all that." He gestured towards her book, a Guide to Solo Combat. He assumed it had to do with combat classes or something.

"Ah... yes well, I've been..." She'd been falling behind, though she would not admit it aloud. She fumbled with her thoughts, trying to express herself. Her brows furrowed and eyes closed shut. Truth be told, "I have not been doing well in combat class... well, as well as I should." She was in the top four of course... but she was forth. And that was the problem.

She understood Pyrrha, but her teammates, to her surprise. Were very skilled, in fact, she was sure May HADN'T missed a shot since they joined. Ironically unlike that Rose girl from one of the other teams. She was fantastic with her scythe... but her aim was clearly off.

And then there was their leader, Jessica. She was a sniveling mess most of the time, and she wondered why Ozpin made her leader... but when it came to combat, when it came to being able to avoid social situations. She was able to put her head in the game, and her semblance was... strong. Very strong, apparently it cooperated well with the smallest bits of hard light dust, creating whatever she could imagine on the fly.

Truly, as Xiao Long from another team would call it, Broken.

It was vexing, frustrating, even in team battles, it felt like she did nothing to assist. All she could muster were her glyphs... and though Jessica was fantastic at calling shots... and pre planned tactics... she didn't use Weiss as well as she was needed.

"Mmm." She turned her attention to him, tea slowly pouring into the cup, a warm sizzle reaching her ears as he placed it before her.

Once again, she found it strange, he knew what she liked. Perhaps after being told over and over again, he would learn.

"I dunno, I've seen the recordings, and well I'm not a fighter." He chuckled a little, not that he'd know the first thing about combat. "But, you're always fantastic."

Her eyes widened, but then furled downwards, with one staying up as she looked at him with suspicion.

"Like, in team combat, sure Jessica is guiding everyone. But haven't you noticed? She doesn't really give you commands. And that's cause you've got your eyes on the entire battle field. Sure there was that time with the boar grimm thing at the start, when you were like frustrated you weren't the leader and-"

"Jaune..."

"Ah, right, right sorry! I mean like... you're really good at battlefield control."

She blinked a few times, a little confused. "I mean, you don't HAVE to be in the frontlines all the time. Heck, Pyrrha generally has that covered, and Jessica is like, somewhere in between with May WAY in the back! But come on, you've saved May SEVERAL times with your glyphs! I've seen you stop Ren a few times, and he's sneaky!"

She nodded, yes, the team that had TWO Ninja's was a pain to deal with. Especially when they would often target May or herself. She'd learned to be alert, when dealing with them. Setting up traps, a new thing she'd come to appreciate with the sense of defense and... "Huh."

"Also that time when you used a timey thingy on Jessica. And she sent all those green blades flying! There were so many, and she wouldn't have been able to make them without you!"

She nodded a long... she supposed he was right.

"Besides, you're no slouch in combat, you can hold your own with the best of them. But I think, that you work best as a team player. You know, you don't have to do everything alone."

She... supposed she didn't. That was something she hadn't really considered.

Initially she'd planned to use her brains and Pyrrha's brawn but... they were a team of four. "Hmm..." She gave it some thought, and put the book away. "Thank you Jaune." A smile graced her lips as she reached for the cup and took a sip, "Mmm~ Its perfect, just the way I like it."

She smiled, feeling warm and fuzzy inside, yes, Jaune wasn't so bad after all.

[naamahdarling]

Silly Game Time: The Skeleton King has asked for my hand in marriage ... Again (sigh).

How can I let him down gently enough to not make him an enemy, but firmly enough that he'll stop asking?

Listen. I know the Werewolf King is a total chad or whatever they're calling them now, and he has that pineapple farm and everything, and he has a really wonderful, supportive family who are actually very gentle.

I know he doesn't live in the "frozen wastes" which are just moors in winter, come on. I know the Werewolf King doesn't have like fifteen ex-situationships wandering around as banshees and wraiths and what-have-you, which can be a little teensy bit awkward when all you want to do is pace the castle walls, and all they want to do is scream and rend at their spectral hair.

But I need you to know the whole story.

They were friends before, I'm sure people have told you that. But no, yeah, back when the Skeleton King was just this prissy, gay little lich clattering around the dating scene, they were dating. Did you know that?They were really close. I don't know if the Werewolf King told you that. They were like boyfriend close.

They would have gotten married but the Skeleton King's dad finally disarticulated (at like the worst possible time) and he had to ascend and take the crown and that required sacrifices. It was so stupid.

Rather than claim the lives of fourteen of the Werewolf King's family and his husband the Werewolf King in order to ascend to the throne, he married that Viktor von Vampire or whatever his name was. I think we're all still forbidden from saying it even though he's dead. More dead. Whatever.

I know you heard there was backstabbing, and maybe that's why you're hesitating, but it was totally misrepresented. He married the vampire and then all of the vampire's petty, gross little ghouls got what they'd been deserving for four bratty, bratty centuries, and were discorporated.

I know it was like 60 years while the Skeleton King tried to kill that vampire douchebag, and it all looked really bad! It did! He killed his husband! But you know that fully half of the supernatural marriages that don't end in divorce and in some kind of permanent death or discorporation or what-have-you. It's not like nobody saw it coming, they're just being judgy.

And if he'd explained to the Werewolf King what was going on, about getting married just for the sacrifices and all, and told him that they could still totally be together afterwards, well. The werewolf King is a really great guy and would totally have committed his entire pack to the eradication of all those disgusting little vampire lackeys and their cults.

I don't need to tell you how that would have ended. I really don't. I mean, they're really just a bunch of puppies. They're just silly little puppies tumbling around that giant manor, playing all the time and hunting all the game and having music nights and dancing and barbecues, and it's all really fun. I mean, you've been immersed in it for the last 5 years. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

They're great, they're really great, they're very strong and brave and all of that, and the Werewolf King absolutely would have been up for a fight like that, that's why he's like king of all the werewolves ever, but oh my God his auntie? His cousins? Absolutely not the kind of people who could tear cultists apart. And I'm sure you know by now they wouldn't have listened if they were told to stay away. They can't keep their noses out of anything.

So it kind of had to be the way it was to prevent an absolute puppy slaughter. You don't want that, I don't want that, it's all just too awful to think about.

With all that in mind, I know there's some awkwardness about the time he made off with you in the night. The abduction. Okay! Okay, sorry. The kidnapping.

But you also know about the old curse on your family now, and why he really felt like he had to do it. I mean, your family was living on his land, and there were all these exes of his wandering around just waiting to suck your life force away if you had even one toe outside after the sun went down, or if your mirrors weren't perfectly aligned or your salt wasn't the right kind, god, who knew the really tasty flaky stuff was actually worse for that sort of thing? He kind of felt like he owed it to you. Hence the abd-- the kidnapping, sorry. And the gross blood ritual to make you immune to their bullshit. I mean, he's the one who created them, and you can't deny the fact that he absolutely stepped up to deal with the consequences.

I know it was awkward and all, but the two of you really had something together. Like, right away. Do you remember that entire summer where nobody could stop singing because some farmer broke some stone in his field and there was an ancient spirit trapped inside of it and it was just, well it was just a whole thing?

Everybody was just singing their real feelings, right out loud. It was so embarrassing. It was like the musical episode of every TV show ever, so unoriginal. But all of us saw your musical number together and it was really obvious that there is something incredible there.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to defend him, it's just been really hard for him to watch you going around with his ex, and both of you are so happy, cares about you both so much.

Okay, I can see you're not convinced. I'm not supposed to tell you this. I'm not even supposed to be able to? But I'm some kind of quasi feline creature on my dad's side and I can only be loosely bound by curses or geasa or whatnot. Everything just sort of falls off if I lose one of my lives. And don't tell anyone, but that time I saw a bird and ran full tilt into the glass window at your boyfriend's manor? I know you think I knocked myself out, but I didn't.

No, no, that's not what killed me, no, sweetie, you did fine. I actually died of embarrassment three hours later. When you heard me stop sobbing? Yeah. That was when. It was only for like 6 or 7 minutes though so, not a big deal.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that all of that crap I was supposed to swear and all of those spells that were on me, ugh disgusting, they don't apply anymore. So now I can tell you the real reason he asked again? Is that he has to ask three times before he can like, legally let you go. Skeleton rules, whatever. It's all really stupid.

So it's perfectly fine for you to refuse. Would he be sad, would his feelings be hurt? I mean, yeah, but not really any worse than they already have been with you turning him down twice already. At least then he could let it go. And then you can be with the Werewolf King.

No! I'm not being passive aggressive, I really do want to see you happy! We all want to see you happy. We all want to see the Werewolf King happy! I just feel really bad for my boss, because I love him, he's been kind of like a dad to me.

So I think that you should actually invite him down to the manor, and you can formally decline there. And at least that way he'll have some good emotional support from all of those nice puppy cousins, and he'll have a lot of food to drain of its flavor and a lot of flowers he can go wither to make himself feel better and maybe he can be just a little gay and prissy again.

And maybe you and him and the Werewolf King can sit down and talk all of this out like grown adults who love each other.

You are the protagonist in the middle of a love triangle situation, and it's going to get more and more insufferable the longer it goes on.

What I'm saying is you should all consider a throuple situation. The only way to defeat this stupid narrative that is trying to doom us all.

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 2: Darkness

Second chapter out! (Yes, there'll be smut in the next one, so get ready). The time of the happenings throughout the story might be a little fucked up, so just ignore that. Hope everything's okay so far. Enjoy!

❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀

Ashley is sitting on the steps beside the door, but when I arrive, she quickly gets up. I look over, wondering if I should say something. I really want to talk to her, to have my best friend back. But I cannot forgive what happened. Not yet anyway. She doesn't move from her standing, waiting for some type of confirmation that talking to me is okay. I don’t want to indulge her, but I have to say something. 

“Hey Ash”

“Hey.” It’s awkward, weird. I feel like a completely different person. The atmosphere is tense, and Sam is looking at each one of us, waiting for something to happen. I hear loud footsteps from behind as Chris makes his way beside me. 

“Man I feel like this mountain gets bigger every time I climb it,” he states, hands resting on each side of his hips. 

“Oh yeah?” I know that voice, and I stop breathing. My mind suddenly sharpening and prior coldness turning hot. I turn around to find Josh walking towards us. We make eye-contact and he stops in his tracks. 

“Oh, you’re here?” he says, and my cheeks flush from embarrassment. I shouldn’t be here, and I’ll go in the morning, I just need to talk to him. 

“Yeah, rode with Sam,” I reply, making a gesture towards her. 

“Hey Josh!” she waves from behind me. 

“Well, glad you all came,” he says, gaze turning away from me. I feel bad. I look at Ashley, and she looks at me with worry. She knows something’s up. 

“When are you going to install some cell towers up here? I’m getting withdrawals already,” Chris complains. My eyes don’t move away from Josh. He seems oddly happy, oddly calm. Like he’s wearing a mask. He folds his arms before answering. 

“You got a spare million lying around and I’ll fix you right up”

“Funny you should say that-” Chris starts, feeling his pockets. 

“Ah, I think I left it in my other jacket”

“Oops”

Ashley sits down on the stairs again, looking away from me. I wish the stuff from last year never happened. Josh turns around, and I notice Matt and Emily for the first time. Emily is looking as good as ever, unbothered by everyone. A freeze creeps up my spine. I always got this uneasy feeling when being in her presence. Matt is standing behind her, a bag standing by his feet. He looks worried, and angry. A weird mix. I still don’t feel comfortable with everyone here. 

“Get here okay?” Josh asks them. 

“Yeah, well, more or less. But it’s so good to see you” Ashley answers. Matt is silent, and Emily looks at him annoyed. Josh walks up to the redhead, asking in a low tone. 

“What’s up with them?”

“Mhm” she responds, looking up at them before shaking her head. Drama, again. Does it never end? Chris and Josh walk up to the door while we others wait. I don’t want to be a bother to him, yet. They talk loudly while getting the door open, using way too long. 

“Damn, frozen lock,” I hear. I look up, but they’re still talking. Probably about how to get in. The cold is getting to everyone, Emily is warming herself with her hands, and looks over to Matt for support. He doesn’t do anything, just continues staring into the woods. 

Finally, they both make their way down again, Chris stopping in front of Ashley. 

“Hey Ash,” he smiles. Her cheeks redden as she waves at him. They’re cute, both of them. I would’ve thought that by last year they would’ve gotten together, but it seems like none of them still dare to make a move. 

“Soo, how’re you doing?” he asks, and she looks over at me before turning her gaze back at him. 

“Mmm, good I guess. A little cold though. I think I could use some time curled up by the fire…”

I can’t help but smile at Chris’s reaction. He blushes, looking at her intently. Sam snickers as she gives me a nudge. We both know what he’s thinking about now. 

“Yeah, that does sound pretty nice…”

They both smile at each other, before Josh signals for him to follow. They make their way around the house. I turn back around, seeing Ashley standing up and grabbing my arm. We go the opposite of them, getting a little away from the others. As we stop, she lets out a breath, staring at me intensely. 

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, or even see me, but we have to. I need to,” she starts, and I look down at the ground. I’m bombarding Josh on this trip, it’s fair for her to do the same to me. 

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I came”

“I never meant for any of the things that happened to ‘actually’ happen”

I look up at her again, missing her. The whole year has been a wreck, and I didn’t even have my best friend to help me through it. 

“I followed them, I did, I was in it, I know I was. I just, I never meant to hurt either of them”

“I know you didn’t. That doesn’t change the fact that you were in on a plan that lead to their deaths”

“You have no idea how much regret I have, I keep playing that night over and over again, wishing I could change it. I’ve missed you!” She takes a breather before continuing. “This whole year, I’ve been so alone, please”

Tears are forming in her eyes, and I feel myself getting heavier. I love her so much, and it wasn’t her fault. She was also the one of those involved who spent the most time outside searching for them. I remember getting up and finding her with frozen fingers, getting ready to go outside again. 

“It’s going to take some time for me to completely trust you again-” I begin. Her eyes fill with hope, and my chest lightens from her reaction. 

“Take all the time you need, but know that I’m here when, or if, you decide to come back”

“We can start slow,” I say as I grab onto her arms and pull her into a hug. I feel her breathing steady and her heartbeat slow. Tears form in my eyes as I rest my head on her shoulder. I’ve missed her so much. She hugs me hard, and I wonder if I’ll ever get out of her grip. She’s stronger than she looks. 

“Thank you,” she whispers back, and we pull apart. We make our way over to the others, Sam giving me an encouraging smile. Only one last person to talk to. 

We wait a bit, and I decide to walk to the side of the house to check up on them. They’ve been there for an awfully long time. I arrive, noticing a missing axe on the side of the house and two men trying to shove a big dumpster. I notice the open window as well, getting to know their plan. 

“Need any help?” I ask, walking over. 

“Ugh, please” Chris pleads, showing his side. Josh doesn’t say anything. He just waits on the other side of us to be ready to push. I help them, and in three hard rounds, we manage to move it enough. Chris makes a loud grunt as he hops on it, looking in the window. Josh still doesn’t pay attention to me, so I decide to make myself useful instead. The dumpster is high, so I nudge Chris’s foot. He looks down at me, reaching his hand down for me to grab. With his help, I manage to get up. The inside looks dark and dusty, not my type of environment. As I turn around, my foot slips on the ice, making me fall. I yelp as I go down, closing my eyes and covering my head in my arms. I wait for the impact, but am instead grabbed by two hands. I open my eyes, meeting Josh’s. My breathing quickens, lips parting a bit for more air. He’s standing still, one hand on my back and one under my legs, holding me bridal style. I can’t read his expression. His eyes are wider than usual, and I notice the strong colour of his undereyes. He hasn’t slept well recently. My hand goes automatically to his shoulder, and I suddenly get flashbacks to our drunken nights. Him twirling me around in a playful manner then stopping and staring into my eyes a little too long before putting me down. Right now, he doesn’t put me down, instead he keeps looking at me. My cheeks feel hot, and my lips yearn. His brows furrow, a bit of anxiousness and hurt showing. I’m holding myself up with one of my arms, but the other moves to his neck, feeling his naked skin. Then we hear a loud thud. 

He shakes his head, suddenly remembering where we are, and he puts me down. Still a bit in the moment, it takes some time to gain my balance again. We both look up to Chris, but he’s not there. Instead, the window is wide open. I’m about to get on top of the dumpster as Josh reaches out a hand for me. I take it, smiling at him while he helps me up. He smiles back, a kind one. Those are the ones I like the best. His other hand goes to my back, as I steady myself on the box. On the top, I give him my hand, helping him up as well. We both look down and see a hurt Chris lying on the floor, teeth bared and eyes pinched closed. 

“I’m okay! Should’ve paid more attention in climbing class” he comments, and I snicker. 

“You mean gym?” Josh asks, clearly confused. 

“Yeah, you know, with the climbing up the rope”

“Yeah, that’s what you do in gym class” I add. 

He stands up, the lightbulb suddenly exploding. 

“Shit” we all say in unison.

“Did I do that?” Chris asks. 

“Uhh, I don’t think so”

Josh looks down, grabbing a hold of a lighter in his pocket and throwing it to him. 

“Here, use this”

Chris flicks it, but it doesn’t light up as much as expected. 

“Woah, Chris I just got an awesome idea-”

“Yeah?”

“Totally. Okay, so I’m pretty sure that I’ve got some deodorant in one of the bathrooms, you could use that with the lighter”

I look weirdly at him. “How’s a stick of deodorant going to help?”

He nudges me, looking over and smiling. “It’s a spray can.” I haven’t seen his smiles in a year, so every one of them makes me smile back, a warm feeling spreading in my chest. I look over at Chris again.

“Flamethrower, like we do with the little army dudes!” he exclaims. 

“Yep, the ones that we melted”

“Freaks” I comment, pretending-rolling my eyes. Chris gives me a pouty mouth. 

“Okay, so you got this?” Josh asks, and he nods, walking further into the room. Josh and I jump down, luckily both landing on our feet. I look over at him, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, he begins. 

“So, we haven’t talked for a while”

“Yeah,” I nod. 

“And, you came here?”

My breath catches as shame coats me. I’m absolutely an intruder. 

“Sorry Josh, you haven’t been responding, and I just needed to know you were okay”

He gives a slight smirk. 

“So, still care about me huh? Even after a year?” 

My heart sinks a bit as I’m going to tell him about my feelings. He got to know last year, but I just need some sort of closure. A year without moving on has made me come to that decision. 

“Listen, if you don’t want me here, that’s fine, I’ll take the bus tomorrow morning. And I got a bit hurt from not getting any responses from you, and that’s fine, I get it. But please, since you obviously don’t want to think about everything that happened last year, we can just go back to being friends, good friends-”

“I don’t want that” he responds, and I look down again. 

“Then I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, okay? The bus only goes onc-” 

He suddenly grabs my hand, stopping me from walking back. 

“Hey, that’s not how I meant it. I wanted to get back in touch with you, just after this, I truly did, but-”

“But what?”

“What happened between us last year… I don’t want to let that go”

Our eyes meet, faces closing in. 

“I’ve just been working through everything, and things haven’t fallen into place yet”

“I know, I know. I’m here for you Josh, if you need me”

His signature smirk plasters on him, and I can’t help but blush. His hand moves to my waist, the other behind my neck. 

“Good God, of course I need you” he whispers, pulling me in and kissing me. His lips are cold, but I don’t mind. My arms close around his neck, and I pull our bodies closer. Our moment is interrupted by several shouts. We look at each other before running over to the others. A baby animal runs down the stairs and into the forest. Everyone is laughing while Chris holds the door open for everyone. 

“Home sweet home,” Josh says as he walks in. Everybody sighs. 

“It’s freezing in here”

“I’ll get a fire going”

I look around, surprised by how little has changed. It looks exactly the same. Matt points it out, also analysing the place. 

“Well, nobody’s been up here” Josh explains. Telling us how the police stopped working quite quickly. 

“What’s up party-people”

“Heeeey!”

Mike and Jess. I sense some tension in the room, and catch Emily giving them a nasty glare. They both take a place on the sofa, rubbing on each other. Nasty people. Matt stares at Mike, giving him the up-and-down. They’re all crazy, everyone’s ego shooting through the roof. 

“Yeah, come in, take whatever you want” Matt says in an accusing tone. Fuck, already? I pull up my phone, trying not to pay attention to the others. A bunch of words are exchanged, and I only catch a few. 

“Watch yourself Mike”

“Was your sluttyness too loud?”

“Oh, no one else can play with your toys?”

I give up, deciding to pay attention. As long as I’m not part of it, it’s fine. Emily and Jess continue tearing each other up, building the tension more and more. Mike is silent, and Matt tries to occasionally cut in to diffuse the situation. 

“Stop it!” Josh suddenly shouts. 

“This is not why we came up here, this is not helping-”

“This is not what I wanted. If we can’t get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a break?”

I stand up with Sam, unsure of our next move. No one is paying attention to us, everyone focuses on their own fights. 

“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin I told you about?”

“Yeah, we’ll go do that,” he answers, holding out his hand for Jess. They both make their way outside. 

“Wait, shit” Josh exclaims, slamming his hand into his head. “I forgot about the generator.”

“I’ll get it” I volunteer. He showed it to me last year, so I’ll manage on my own. 

“You’re an angel” he points at me, before leaning down to the fireplace. 

I make my way outside, the wind surprising me. The wind is refreshing, pulsing through my lungs. I want to run down, at least jog, but don’t dare because of the ice. Instead, I plug in my earpods, listening to already downloaded music. A squirrel climbs a tree on my left, and I consider stopping for it. I remember giving my nuts to Sam on the bus-ride, so maybe I should just leave it alone. The path is dark, and a little bit scary. The same eerie feeling that bothered me in the start creeps back, and I take a hold around myself. Why did I decide to go alone again? I arrive in the shed, opening the generator and starting it up. I suddenly get a feeling like I’m being watched, so I quickly make my way up again. On the way I meet Emily and Matt. I slow down, greeting them. 

“Where are you guys going?”

“Forgot one of our bags” Emily responds. 

“We’ll be quick”

I continue walking up, noticing movement in the side of my vision. I turn, but nothing’s there. I hold my breath, looking closer. After a minute, I give up. It was probably an elk or a deer. 

I only find Ashley and Chris sitting on the sofa inside. 

“Where are the others?”

“Sam’s checking the bathtub upstairs while Josh’s trying to get her some warm water going” Chris responds. 

“He probably needs help” Ashley adds.

“And none of you wanted to?”

“Nah”

I give them both a fake-disappointed look before making my way to the cellar. The concrete walls look dirty, and the light is off. When I’m down, I hear a low summing to my left. Knowing Josh is further in the right, I still decide to check out the sound. I walk over to a heavy metal door, looking around it for some sort of glimpse to the other side. I put my ear against it, hearing the summing sound better. It sounds like some type of technology, like a used up computer. 

“Boo!”

Hands grab me, making me scream. Josh is laughing, moving his hands to hold me, but I keep hitting him. 

“You fucking jerk Washington, you scared the crap out of me!” I scold, letting my hands fall to my sides. 

“Sorry, sorry. Felt like the right thing to do in the moment,” he excuses, hands moving around me, hugging carefully. My heart rate lowers, and I let myself sink into his embrace.  

“Could you help me with this water-thing?” he asks, looking down at me expectfully. 

“Of course, but wait-” I say while he drags me. 

“Josh, what is behind this door?”

“That one?” he points. 

“Yeah, I heard something. It was like, summing or something”

“Probably just the pipes” he says, dragging me further away. 

“Okay…”

We make our way to the cabinet, picking and poking at some wires. 

“Can you click that button when it turns red?” he asks. I nod in reply. When it turns red, I quickly push it, making it green. 

“Hey we did it!” he exclaims, hand going up for a high five. As I make contact, he grabs my hand, turning it, and making me spin around. As I bump into him, he places a kiss on my forehead. I laugh, but he just keeps smiling. 

“You’re beautiful, you know”

“Why thank you, you’re not too bad yourself”

I grab his hand harder, and start walking. I want to make my way out of here, the vibe is creeping me out. 

“I feel like you just called me average”

“Wouldn’t have fucked you if you were just average”

“True that”

As I take the first step up the stairs, a loud bang is heard. Like metal on concrete. I turn around, not glimsing anything. Josh is looking attentively, carefully letting go of my hand. 

“Josh” I whisper. 

“Stay there”

I don’t listen, and instead make my way silently behind him, holding on to his bicep. 

“You heard that, right?” he asks, and I hum. 

Suddenly a man in a cloak and mask jumps forward, arms out. We both shout, grabbing each other's hands and running to the stairs. I smack my arm on the corner of the opening, making it hurt. I don’t bother with it, getting up to the door and trying to get it open. 

“Josh! Josh! Josh!” I shout, not able to open it. 

“It doesn’t open from inside!”

“How do we get fucking open then!” I shout back, furiously gripling at the door. 

The guy comes nearer, and Josh puts his arm defensively in front of me. I lean into him, hand grabbing him, hard. 

“Eyy”

“What?”

“Eyyyy…”

“What the fuck, Chris?” I manage to squeak out. Josh is laughing his ass off, and I look to and fro them both. 

“You just got monked!”

“Gosh, Chris, nice one”

“Wha-?? Why would you do that?” I ask, the tension leaving my body, finally being able to relax. 

Josh places his arm on my back, calming me down. 

“Come on, it was funny”

“Absolutely not”

As we walk back, I turn to Chris. 

“Okay, I’m ready to admit that your dumb little prank may have had a slight whiff of humour to it,” I state, the harshness in my voice disappearing. 

“Jokemaster!”

“I never said anything about jokes, I was talking about your stupid prank-”

“Holy crap” Josh chimes in. “You were scared, admit it”

“I wasn’t scared, I was surprised”

“Nah hun, you almost pissed yourself”

“I did not!”

We make our way back to Ashley, who’s walking towards us. She meets Chris in the middle, and he bows. 

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

“I’ve found my true calling” he says, making a cross in the air. 

“Please tell me you’re going to take a vow of silence”

Chris starts talking soundless in the air, making Ashley laugh. I look between the two, the tension between them stronger than before. When are they gonna crack? What will it take? 

“Feel better now?” Josh asks me, nudging me in the arm. A sharp pain goes through me as he does. 

“Ouch, fuck” I whisper, grabbing the spot. 

“Shit” he suddenly gets a worried look on his face. 

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and check this out” I say, starting to make my way up the stairs. 

“Hey wait up, Sam’s in there, you can use mine”

“Oh okay, and which room was that again?”

“I’ll show you” 

“Hey Josh, do you have an ouija board?” Chris asks. 

“Yeah, just look in those shelves over there, see if you can find it. We’ll be right back”

His hand moves to my lower back, guiding me up the stairs. As I walk down the hallway, memories start flooding in. Him and I walking down these corridors, and into his room, then…

We go to the room above his, where he opens a cabinet and finds some salve. I start undressing, shaking a bit from the cold. As I get to my last layer, I realise that I’m only wearing a bra underneath. 

“You gonna take that off?” he asks, pointing to my sweater. I give him a smirk, leaning forward slightly. 

“Sure you can handle it?”

“Absolutely not”

I laugh at him, deciding to just take off my sweater. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He looks in awe as I turn around and check out my arm in the mirror. It’s just a scrape, and it doesn’t look that bad, just stings. Awoken from his trance, he moves beside me and looks over my arm. 

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt” he states, watching intently as he cleans it. 

“I wasn’t, then who was?” I question, confused by his tone. 

“N-no” he stutters. “I just mean that you shouldn’t have been hurt this way”

“You want to hurt me another way?” I tease, leaning forward a bit, giving him a little more to look at. 

“If in a sexual way is what you mean” he whispers, looking up at me with puppy eyes. I lean towards him, a hand making its way behind his neck and pulling him closer. Then I kiss him, carefully, gracefully, but he doesn’t keep it that way.