#they don’t even care about thornton and his glasses glare

[catcherappreciator]

Looking at the jays new official roster photos and wow these are lit kinda badly I mean it can’t just be me who thinks that right?

[babygorewhore]

Bad Guy

Rafe Cameron x fem!Thornton! reader

As Toppers sister, he refused to let you be apart of his party life until tonight. But when you use something of Rafe’s without knowing, he decides you need to pay him.

Warnings! Throat fucking! Unprotected sex! Degrading! Dub con since she’s under the influence! Dark! Rafe kinda (According to me lol)

Tonight was your first time being invited to a party thrown by your brother, Topper. Before you were written off as his annoying little sister.

Forbidden to be exposed to the debauchery of his party life. Topper wasn't necessarily a bad brother. He was just extremely overprotective of you, someone who didn’t fit in with the rest of the kooks. You liked staying in, hanging out with the pogues and you were on the shyer side.

But the biggest issue wasn’t the partying.

Rafe Cameron. Your brother's best friend was the issue. Whenever you were around, he picked on you. Made fun of how you dressed, how you hung out with people he viewed as lesser but most importantly you refused to show weakness to him like other girls.

At least outwardly.

On the inside? You had a massive crush on him. Strictly on a physical level. His tall muscular form Bold blue eyes and blonde hair. Ever since his father was out of the picture, he became hotter. More intimidating since he had all the power. Topper often reminded you of this. The Cameron’s used to be royalty on this island.

But tonight, you were determined to make things different. You wanted to be noticed.

You stepped downstairs where the noise was booming, your short black dress and tall heels clacking against the ground as you stepped into the majority of the crowd. Topper saw you from where he was sitting, a drink in hand as he flew over to you. He glared at the men who were catcalling and giving you lustful looks.

“Absolutely not. Go upstairs and change right now.” He shoved you lightly but you ignored him and eyed the table where he had sat. A line of crystal power lined the glass. You had never snorted coke before and you wanted to make yourself known. You were a Kook. You were Toppers sister but you refused to be seen as a child anymore.

You nudged a girl out of the way and selected the drug and straightened it with a razor blade. After picking something up, you brought your nose down and breathed in the drug.

“What the fuck?” Topper yanked you away as a rush came over you and gave you a shot of energy and you cheered. Everyone was underneath the flashing lights.

“What’s wrong with you? I’m an adult now, Top Get over it!”

“That’s not it, idiot. That coke didn’t belong to me and you didn’t pay for it.”

You breathed in and wiped your nose. “What?” Your entire body was buzzing with adrenaline as your brother rolled his eyes and looked at you sternly.

“That’s Rafe’s. And he’s really strict about getting paid.”

You shrug, your high making you care less about what’s happening. You turn and start to enjoy the rest of the party. Dancing by the pool, drinking and doing another line in different room.

As you walked out of the restroom an hour later, a tall figure approached you down the empty hallway and you paled as you realized it was Rafe storming towards you.

His striped shirt was messy and his black pants were fitted as he loomed over you. “You think you can steal shit from me?”

“I didn’t steal anything. You weren’t even in the room!” You argued drunkenly and tried to push him away from you but he caught your hands.

“You don’t snort what belongs to me without paying for it, you little slut. Dressing like that to try and impress everyone and do a line. I know what you’re doing.”

“And what’s that, Rafe?” You challenged back, your makeup running from all the activity you participated in.

“You just want me to notice you. Well, guess what? I did and now you’re going to pay up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll go get my purse.”

Rafe let out a laugh and you grew cold as he let you go but caged you in with both hands on either side of your head. “I don’t want your fucking money. I have enough of that shit.”

“Then, what? How do you want me to pay you?” Rafe gave you a soft sneer and you realized exactly what he meant.

“Fuck off,” You growled and tried to shove him but Rafe nudged your legs, separated them and forced you on your knees with his hands on your shoulders, gripping harshly. “You really want to make me the bad guy, huh?” He breathed out through his lips and shook his head teasingly. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

You wanted to deny it but with the drugs, pent up emotions of suppressing any sort of sexual attraction to him and remembering all the times you played with your pussy while saying his name. You started unbuckling his pants, his boxers making him look like he was in a men’s magazine as his hard on stared directly at you.

You had only blown two guys before this and each time wasn’t fun. You weren’t attracted to them like Rafe. He always loomed in your mind despite the dismissive swear you gave him earlier.

Rafe sighed impatiently as he adjusted his boxers and removed his heavy dick, his precum leaking from the tip as it slapped against his stomach. Your mouth watered and you felt yourself drip onto your panties as you spat onto your hand and started gently rubbing up and down the soft skin. Your thumb swipes across his creamy fluid as you drag your tongue along the vein, his entire body shuddering as you repeat the action on the other side. His cock was hot against your mouth as your lips gave open mouth kisses before he cups your jaw and opens your mouth with intense strength.

“You’re gonna make me cum and you’re not gonna whine. You’re not going to do anything unless I say, Got it, you stupid little whore?” He growled and you nodded fearfully as you opened your lips and kitten licked the tip before he shoved his cock inside your mouth.

Your head slammed back against the wall as he arched over you, his one hand holding his weight as he started thrusting hard and face fucked you. Your eyes widened as you tasted the slick and your throat immediately wanted to protest and close but you breathed deeply in your nose and adjusted your position on your knees. Your cunt fluttered and he started moaning, the very sound telling you how much he enjoyed this.

“Your little good girl act doesn’t work on me,” He grunted as he moved faster and fucked your mouth, your mascara lining your cheeks as tears streamed down your face.

Your head bobbed up and down his length as your pussy clenched around nothing as his movement started growing sloppy. “You gonna take it, bitch? You gonna take my cock, cum slut?”

His dirty words only made your center pool as he grabbed your hair and pulled so hard it hurt enough to make you wince but you kept going until he came to a halt, spilling his seed inside your mouth. You pulled off them, coughing and wiping your lips. Gloss and liner smearing on your hand. Rafe chuckled and lightly slapped you. “That’s what you do. Take it without whining like other girls. Guess you really know what you’re doing, huh? More than I thought you did” To your surprise he helped you stand but stopped you from wiping your face.

“Rafe, if my brother sees this he’s going to kill us.” You shriek before quieting when he leans down. “Do I look like I care? Besides, I’m not fucking done with you.” With that, Rafe wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you into a room further down the hallway. He didn’t waste time as he pushed you down onto the unmade mattress and yanked your dress higher, exposing your soaked underwear.

He smirked at you. “All that from sucking my dick? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.” He pulled off your panties and shuffled to straddle you, lining up his cock and running it along your clit causing you to throw your head back. A wash of fear came as you thought about someone walking in. But he wouldn’t care. He always did exactly what he wanted and to whom.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me? That little pussy is gonna hug me so tight,” He groaned as he pushed it inside your opening and you whined, your legs wrapping around his hips.

He slid in and out a few times before he slammed to the hilt and you almost screamed at the fullness. Rafe took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach. “You fucking feel that? Feel me there? That’s what happens when you don’t pay up. I take what’s mine.” He growled and moved faster, your body was jerking on top of the bed as your fingers dug into the material of his shirt you desperately wanted off so you slipped your hands underneath and touched his muscular back. He let out his own whimper at that as he thrusted deep inside you.

His cock reached something in you that made you start crying from pleasure again, “fuck, daddy. I can’t-I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for daddy, baby girl. You’re being so good.” He managed before he felt you reach your peak and you spilled all over him.

You felt more wetness as his own cum filled you but he didn’t pull out. “I’m not gonna let anything spill out.” He gave you a smirk on his sweaty face and he leaned down and gave you a hard kiss.

It was marking his territory.

“I’m not fucking finished with you yet.”

You felt whiplash. You just fucked your bully, long time crush and now, drug dealer.

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @xxhellfirebunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @lesservillain @redhead1180

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: topper's virginity kink - stop that, he's a gentleman about it ffs, he takes the best care of you , p in v sex of the protected variety, swearing, biting/marking, dirty talk, a little tearing up, kissing/saliva exchanged. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt four- virginity

character | fandom - topper thornton | outer banks

reader | original character - female reader, pogue!john b's sister & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 6.3k

tagging - <taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you've been dancing around the way you feel about him for a while now, but a Halloween bonfire at the boneyard + a few drinks might just change all that..✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You couldn't stare at Topper Thornton any harder if you tried. Your eyes are glued to him like magnets as he tosses a football back and forth with some other Kooks down the shore. Staring is all you're ever gonna get. Might as well enjoy it. - the thought has you frowning to yourself and you bite your bottom lip as you watch the way he peels off a long sleeve shirt and tosses it at the sand.

Your brother John B happens to notice that you're distracted and you haven't paid attention to a single thing he’s been saying so he clears his throat and when that doesn't work, he bounces a green grape off your forehead.

Kiara snickers quietly. Sarah raises a brow and Kiara gets her off to the side, explaining what she was just laughing at.

❝ Wait.. she likes Top?❞ Sarah glances at you and John B, a brow raised. She groans to herself as she catches the tail end of yet another argument between the two of you. 

❝ She’s in love with him, actually.❞ Kiara shrugs as the argument between you and John B kicks into high gear.

John B glares at you. ❝ We discussed this. I don't even want that prick Thornton breathing your air, sis. He's not a good guy.❞

❝ We didn’t discuss anything, JB. You dictated, like always and I agreed just to shut you up.❞ you snipe, glaring at your older brother. ❝ I'm not involved in this stupid Kooks versus Pogue bullshit. And, ❞ you pause, a hand on your hip, ❝ You don’t know the guy.❞

❝I know him one hell of a lot better than you do, little bit. So what he saved you from drowning and he just happened to be there that time you took the Twinkie out and th' tire blew. Just because he felt like being a nice guy two times doesn't make him a good person. Stay away from th' guy. I'm being serious, lil bit. ❞ John B argues. 

His firm warning is met with a roll of your eyes as you decide you'd rather chew glass than keep arguing with the brick wall known as your older brother. 

❝ Would you fucking relax, dumbass? Its not like I'm gonna screw or marry the guy.❞ you yell, probably a little louder than you should have. Your face is on fire as soon as you realize just how many people your angry outburst has staring at you.

As you're storming away, you happen to crash right into Topper, the unaware subject of the entire fight you've just had with John B. He gazes at you in concern as his hands rest against your upper arms. ❝ You look upset.❞

You swallow hard. And naturally, the thought comes, bitterly, I'm gonna go all weird and quiet now. Just like every other time I'm near Topper.

❝ Y-yeah.❞ you finally murmur, ❝ Johns just bein an asshole…Again.❞ and you're staring up, lost in the multi-toned warmth of his eyes. You can feel your brother and the rest of his friends staring and you sigh a little. But Topper hasn't let go of your arms yet and if the look in his eyes is anything to go by, he doesn't buy what you're saying at all.

❝ Yeah, that tracks.❞ Topper finally mumbles as he reluctantly releases the hold on you, instantly missing the softness of your skin under his hands as soon as its gone. He gives John B and the other Pogues a dirty look and it's fleeting, he's quick to turn his attention back to you. 

❝ I'm gonna get going...❞ you reluctantly step away, instantly wishing you hadn't, ❝ Before he busts a vein.❞

Topper chuckles. And he'll tell himself that the only reason he does what he winds up doing next is solely to cause that, its just to get your very overprotective big brother all riled up, maybe it is. But as much as that's the honest to God's truth, there's a deeper reason he invites you to the Halloween bonfire tonight at the boneyard. 

He wants to see you again. He's like an addict, he needs his fix. 

❝ Hey!❞ he stops you in your tracks, ❝ There's a bonfire tonight..to celebrate Halloween, I guess. You should come..I mean, unless you're scared it's gonna make big brother mad.❞

You can feel the rage and frustration as it rolls off your brother when JJ nudges him so he doesn't miss what's unfolding.

You know you should turn him down, every part of you insists that going anywhere near that damned bonfire tonight is not only a bad idea, it's possibly the worst one you've ever had and yet.. when you open your mouth to do the right thing, the smart thing, and gently tell him no, ❝ Maybe I will, Thornton. Maybe I will.❞

You hurry away after answering, mostly because you know if you don't do that, John will come over and restart the argument you two were having that made you storm away and collide with Topper just now in the first place. 

Sarah and Kiara exchange looks.

❝ Tell me you were picking up on the way Topper was with her just now. Tell me I'm not reading into what we both just saw way too much.❞ Kiara asks after a few seconds. Sarah laughs softly and shakes her head. ❝ I think I have an idea. C'mon.❞ she starts to walk towards where you happen to be standing on the boardwalk as she glances back at Kiara and Cleo, ❝ We can wait for permission now or beg for forgiveness later.❞

❝ Wait, hold on!❞ Kiara rushes to catch Sarah, ❝What are we even doing?❞

❝ When I was dating Top...❞ she trails off and watches Topper as he's watching you, ❝ I used to be so jealous of her. I used to think that he wanted her more. I'm starting to realize I was right… and if she likes him back, I mean…❞ Sarah trails off, speaking up a few seconds later, ❝ Top is a good guy.. He deserves to be happy too, Kie.❞

❝ You do realize John isn't gonna see it that way...❞ 

❝ And we'll cross that bridge when we're there. What I do know is I owe him.❞

❝ Okay, so what are we thinking?❞ Kiara asks, watching as you watch Topper throwing the football around, further down the shore. 

❝ Everybody is gonna be in costume tonight.. well, most everybody.❞ Sarah muses, gazing from you to Topper as she formulates her plan. 

Cleo and Pope wander up to you as you finish your cigarette and thump its remains at the pavement.

❝ John is just being protective..❞ Pope speaks up after a few seconds. You nod, exhaling the last plume of smoke into the afternoon air. ❝ I know, Pope. I just don't get it.. Topper has actually helped out when we asked. Of the rest, he's the least biggest asshole. And I can't help who I.. nevermind..❞ you laugh softly and shake your head, ❝ He’s probably right, its not like a guy like that,❞ you nod in Topper's direction, ❝ Is even interested in me in the first place.❞

Cleo happens to look over where you were just staring right as you make yourself stop staring and Topper starts staring at you.

❝ I think you’re wrong.❞ Cleo muses, nudging Pope to get him looking in Topper's direction. Pope rubs his chin thoughtfully, tuning back into your continued rant just in time to hear you going off on a tangent about the way John B is engaged to Sarah and its kind of stupid to be an ass about Topper based solely on that. 

❝ I mean,  if he obviously liked me to begin with, he's totally a hypocrite for continuing to be an ass about this.❞ you go quiet.

Cleo snickers softly. ❝ There's one way to find out.. Go to the bonfire tonight. He did invite you.❞ she's challenging you, daring you to do something because she's gotten to know you well enough at this point to know that challenging you or daring you is a surefire way to get you to do something, quick, fast and in a hurry. 

You mull it over. You were already planning to go, you were going to hang out with Cleo and Pope. If things seemed off you could bail and you wouldn't be stuck by yourself because Cleo is your best friend and she'll be there.

❝ Come with me.❞ Sarah butts in, ❝ We're going costume shopping.❞

You raise your brow. Laugh softly. ❝ Now why am I gonna do that, hm?❞ you ask, shuffling your feet against worn wood.

Sarah grumbles. Then she sees the stern look she's getting from both you and Cleo so she launches into this long-winded ramble about just wanting to have a little fun, pointing out that you did promise your brother you would at least attempt to give her a chance. ❝ Everybody is gonna be in costume tonight.. well, most everybody. I thought it'd be fun..❞

You laugh. ❝Okay, fine. But I probably won't buy one. I'm a little too old for dress up games.❞ you're kind of scoffing, thinking to yourself that it figures the Kook princess would be into dressing up.

Cleo gives you a gentle nudge and you manage a tight smile at Sarah Cameron.

❝ I've got an hour to waste til my shift at the bar. No lingerie or cutesy animal themed stuff, got it?❞

Sarah laughs. ❝Fine. But you have to let me do your makeup and hair if you pick one.❞

You snort in laughter. ❝ How about you just be happy I agreed to tag along with you two..❞ you nod to Kiara as she leans against the railing around the pier, ❝ And leave me to my own devices with hair and makeup, huh?❞

❝ This is a bad idea, Sare.❞ Kiara gives you a dirty look and you roll your eyes right back at her. Cleo laughs quietly and shakes her head.❝ Alright, you three. Behave. If we’re going, we should go.❞

❝What's wrong with me doing your hair and makeup, anyway?❞ Sarah asks and you laugh. ❝It’s fine for you..I'm just not into the whole princess vibe.❞

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･ ｡ﾟ ───

You're lingering hesitantly with your brother and his friends, infinitely regretting your spur-of-the-moment decision to buy the form fitting little white tank style dress and the veil and garter, but in your defense, Cleo dared you. And you're nothing if not petty, so given that you're going to the bonfire tonight just to see Topper and you know what your brother's always saying, you chose the petty road and tonight's costume is you, making a point. The thrifted dress had been longer 3 hours ago but all the tulle and fluff had been torn away from the rest of the dress, leaving you with a form fitting white dress that stopped just about the tops of your thighs. It's the shortest thing you've ever worn out in public but when you also found a garter and an old veil that you could use to form your own shorter veil, you took it to be a sign from the petty gods.

When you'd told Cleo this earlier, she nearly doubled over laughing.

❝ The flannel and combat boots are throwing off the whole costume.❞ Sarah clucks her tongue as she says it, giving you a once-over. ❝ I don't get why you had to destroy a perfectly good wedding dress either...❞

You shrug. ❝Deal with it, Sarah.❞

Sarah spots Topper as his Jeep pulls to a stop next to the Audi Kelce drives. 

Cleo nudges you but you shake your head. ❝ Not right now..❞

Sarah and Kiara have spotted your brother and JJ so they're gone with quickness and it's now only you, Cleo and Pope standing near the coolers and kegs waiting to be tapped. Cleo nudges you and nods at Topper.

You happen to look up just in time to lock eyes with him. You figure he's going to look down first so you're surprised when he smiles and gives a little wave. You pour yourself a drink and take a sip, almost immediately spitting it out.

❝ You are officially on your own, girl. Me and Pope are going somewhere a little more…private.❞ and now Cleo and Pope are gone, leaving you all by yourself. You shuffle your combat boots against the sand awkwardly and you're just about to head over to play a hand of cards with your friends Jesse and Alec, but just as you take a step in the direction of Jesse's tailgate, you're tapped on the shoulder.

❝ You’re here.❞ Topper's breath is minty against your neck and your thighs clamp together in seconds. ❝ I didn't think you'd show up.❞

You turn to face him, head tilted slightly to look up at him. He towers over you easily and you swallow hard, blowing at a strand of fallen hair. All you can do is shrug as words fail you yet again.

Topper chuckles, the sound is husky, quiet. A crowd racing past you both forces you to step into his body and as the wind picks up a little, you hug your flannel shirt tighter against your body. Topper notices this and with a chuckle, he pulls off the jacket he's wearing and holds it out to you. You glance at it, then up at him. He pushes it at you and when you don't immediately take it, he slips it around your shoulders. 

You can feel the exact second both JJ Maybank and your brother have caught onto it but you honestly couldn’t care less. Topper smiles down at you and because of the height difference between you two, he has to bend down just a little when he whispers ❝ I’m glad you came tonight. Kelce, he’s uh.. Been after me to just do something already but I.. Forget it.❞ he laughs quietly, ❝ It’s dumb.❞

You take a sip from the orange plastic cup in your hand and stare up at him quietly, nodding. Your cheeks feel a little warm, a little flushed and you can’t decide whether it’s from the watered down 80 proof in the cup you hold in your hand or if it’s from being around Topper Thornton, like usual.

Every time the two of you have a little run-in, you come away flustered then too.

Duh, you reflect on it, I'm always getting myself into weird and dangerous positions that somehow, he always manages to be close enough to save me from. And I wanna feel bad about that but it puts me in his path and I'm fine with that.

❝ I figured it was the least I could do, Top. I uh...❞ you shift your feet in the sand a little as you laugh at yourself and the sheer lack of ability to form words you’re suffering currently, ❝ I kind of owe you my life.. Three thousand times over, actually.❞

Topper snickers for a few seconds, falling silent again. By now you’ve migrated to a little bonfire further down the shore from the bigger one that everybody’s crowded around. He slips an arm around you and this pulls you straight into his side. Against him. You’re so close that the scent of his cologne envelopes you. As the two of you settle down in a spot on the sand, he speaks up again, gazing into the fire. ❝ I wasn’t keeping score. Y’know, you’re kind of a trouble slash danger magnet, right?❞ he chuckles as he looks over to see you pouting at him. You lightly swat his arm. ❝ Hey! That’s not fair! It’s not like I try to get myself in weird or dangerous situations, Top.❞

❝ Yeah.❞ he laughs, giving you that dimpled grin. You’re trying to resist, but the urge to be closer is driving you crazy. You lean against his side a little, your head resting against his bicep.

Topper’s breath hangs.

❝I always love t’ come out here and look at the stars.❞ you mutter quietly. Topper nods. ❝ Yeah, but the view at the lighthouse is prettier. Go all the way to the top and you can see everything..❞

❝ I’ve always wanted to go there..❞ you muse. He pulls himself up off the sand and holds out his hand to you. And that stupid, sexy, dimpled smile is back. You gaze at the hand he holds out and swallow hard. He’s grinning ear to ear. ❝ C’mon. We can slip away, nobody will ever know. I only come to this shit anymore because Kelce drags me.❞ Topper admits, conveniently leaving out the part where he mostly comes to be as close to you as he dares to get, lest he invoke the wrath of your overprotective big brother, John B.

But he’s got a foot in the door tonight. One chance to be even closer to you than he typically dares to get -aside from the times he happened to be in the right place at just the right time and he managed to keep you alive and safe.

He’s determined to take it.

You take hold of his hand. Biting your lip as you’re pulled off the sand and straight into his body. You’re only half teasing when you say it, ❝ Bet you take all the girls up there, huh? You being a ladies man and all..❞

He shakes his head. ❝ Nope. It’s somewhere I go alone, actually.❞

And you’d never own up to it but when he tells you that, you’re falling even more in love with him and you were just starting to think that couldn’t be possible.

❝ We’re gonna have to speed-walk to the Jeep.❞ you say it and through laughter, the two of you make a beeline for the Jeep. You practically dive into his passenger seat and he backs out of the spot he parked in as fast as he can, his arm around the back of your seat as he turns his head slightly, looking back over his shoulder.

You can feel those butterflies in your stomach, for sure. You know what you’re about to do, sneaking away with a Kook, is at best, a mere bad idea.. But for a bad idea, it feels so good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･ ｡ﾟ ───

The stars glitter and glisten through floor to ceiling panes as you step into the little room atop the lighthouse. Your gasp makes him smile because he’d been hoping you might actually appreciate the view if he ever managed to be lucky enough to get you up here with him.

You turn to him in a rush, your chest presses against his as one of your hands finds purchase in the front of his favorite denim jacket, the one lined with wool. ❝ Top,❞ there it is, that sweet and sultry little purr that haunts his dreams, asleep or awake. He’s staring down at you, dazed. Because the moon is hitting your face just right and your skin is soft and dewy. You’re staring right back up at him, your grip on the front of his jacket tightens just a slip. When you realize just how close you’re pressed against him, your breath catches, a quiet gasp leaving your slightly parted lips.

He leans down, his face into yours just a little. A hand raises and cups your face after he’s brushed some loose strands of hair out of your eyes. ❝ What’s up?❞ he asks finally, the silence is too much for him.

❝ It’s so beautiful up here.❞ you mutter, raising one leg slightly, bent at the knee. He chuckles. The sound is soft. A little husky. Deep as the sound rose up from the very bottom of his soul. It gives you another little tummy flutter. For just a split second, you wonder if this is how awestruck Sarah Cameron had to feel when he looked at her the way he’s looking at you right now. And then in the next breath you’re doing all you can to mentally gaslight yourself that no, he’s definitely not looking at you like that.

You almost manage to pull it off until he shatters the silence. ❝ What I’m lookin at right now is more beautiful.❞

You gulp. The minty clean warmth of his breath fans your face as his moves even closer and the hand that had been on your cheek just seconds before moves to the back of your head. Thick digits catch against your hair. You melt against him and you try not to do it, but your eyes flutter closed as your tongue drags over your bottom lip. The ripped piece of lace you’d stapled to a headband to make yourself a veil at the last minute is lifted, raised out of his way completely.

❝ I’m gonna kiss you.❞ he mumbles quietly, his free hand settled on your hip which he squeezes and uses his grip to pull you into him even closer, as if there was any space left between you both in the first place. ❝ You.. If you don’t want me to kiss you...❞ words are frustrating. He swears under his breath and takes a very shaky deep breath to try again. But you don’t want to wait a single second longer, maybe at least half of your brain is convinced that this is a daydream and you’re going to come out of it to find Cleo and Pope sitting across from you in your usual booth at the Wreck, laughing their asses off.

❝ Are you crazy?❞ you mumble soft, your lips bump right into his as you speak, ❝ I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were twelve.. When I almost drowned to death and you saved me?❞ 

Topper blinks. He’d honestly thought that given all previous interactions, you’d panic and bolt. Because that used to be what you did in any situation where you found yourself alone with him. ❝ You.. you really mean that...❞ he studies you, curious.

❝ I said it, Top.❞ you mumble quietly. You’re not good at making eye contact for too long. So when you try to stare a hole through the front of Topper’s denim jacket, he cups your jaw and makes you look up at him. The distance between your mouths begins to close again. Time all but freezes and finally, his thick tongue splits the barrier of your lips. You keep up with him as best as you can but it’s clumsy. A little needy and you’re melting into his body the more the kiss deepens. When your lips latch onto his bottom one, he groans against your mouth quietly and the hair his hand is so caught up in is given a slight little tug. 

The two of you are light-headed, racing hearts and breathing for each other when the kiss breaks and you reluctantly pull apart, a strand of saliva keeping just a small hint of connection between your mouths. ❝ Fuck.❞ - that’s both of you mumbling the word in unison because he’d imagined what kissing you might feel like for a while now but what he’s just done went above and beyond his wildest imagination. And he knows it won’t be enough because he’s already pulling you back against him and leaning himself down into you for another one.

Your hand raises and settles in his hair, giving it a tug as you climb up into his arms, your legs circling his waist. The ripped lace of the flimsy DIY veil falls down between both of your faces at one point and Topper’s hand catches against the dollar store headband and slips it off your head, letting it fall from his fingers to the wooden floor of the room. You’ve rubbed yourself against him at least two times by now and you keep making these cute little whiny sounds that are driving him to the brink of his restraint.

When your mouth strays from his, seeking out the side of his neck, he sucks in a sharp breath. Hands catch against your ass, squeezing a double handful through a skintight white tank dress. He growls into your neck, ❝ We.. we don’t have t’ do this.. This isn’t why I brought you up here, love.❞ and it’s so cute and sweet and when he calls you love it’s just such a gentleman’s choice of word. You pull away to stare up at him. ❝ I know, I just..❞ you take a deep breath, laugh at yourself because you know damn well you’re rushing into this but at this point, it just feels like you’ve waited longer than forever. Maybe even longer than an eternity.

❝ What? You can tell me, love.❞ Topper coaxes. You play with the front of his jacket as you try to will the words out. ❝ I promised myself if I ever got a chance.. With you.. I was going to do everything I could to make you mine.❞ you cringe a little, it has to sound needy. It has to sound crazy, after all, every previous interaction between you both involved you making a hasty retreat.

❝ You.. you did?❞ he’s puzzled. Because he’s never been anyone’s first choice. He’s never been the guy who gets kissed like you just kissed him. He’s the best friend. Comic relief. The one people turn to only when he can do something for their benefit.

❝ Topper,❞ you whine out as you try to rub against him as much as you can and cling to his body, ❝ I want you..❞

He’s gaping. Stunned. Speechless. Because not only is someone begging for him.. That someone is someone he’s actually had his eye on for a really long time. Secretly, of course.

❝ I… I didn’t say too much, did I?❞ you ask quietly when he’s still dazed a second or two later and you notice that he’s not really responding to anything you’re doing. You frown a little and you’re just about to climb down out of his arms but he takes a step back. You wind up sat on the circular metal railing that surrounds the circular room. ❝ No. No, love.. You didn’t. I just needed to process.❞ Topper explains as his hands leave your hips, skimming up the front of your body, squeezing and cupping your breasts through thin fabric. When you start to rock into him all over again, he bites back a growl and thrusts himself against you so you can feel how hard he is through the jeans he’s wearing. And then he’s staring at you, eyes burning, pupils blown with lust. ❝ You’re.. You’re sure, yeah? We don’t have t’ do this right now, love...❞ he’s melting back into you, his mouth against your neck, tongue dragging the length of your pulse before he takes a little nip of exposed skin.

The scent of vanilla, of you and that sugary sweet cheap perfume you always wear, that fills his awareness, permeates the air all around you both. When his hand slips up your dress and he feels the garter wrapped around your thigh, he inhales, resting his forehead against the top of your breasts. The clasp to the garter was tricky. It was frustrating for him, especially when the only thing he wanted was to strip everything away that kept your skin from touching his.

❝ I hate this damn thing.❞ he huffs out just two seconds before he finally just loses all patience with your tight and stubborn clothing and rips the garter away. Your thin flannel shirt goes next, followed by his denim jacket, both settling in a heap on the floor of the observation room. 

With shaking hands you reach down between your bodies to unbutton his jeans and they settle around his ankles. 

He’s sucking your neck as he works the short and tight little dress up your hips, relishing all your little whimpers and whines and the way you're just so damn responsive to every little touch or kiss. His hand slips between your thighs and your breath catches, your head fallen back against the floor to ceiling pane of glass at your back. He cups your wet sex, rubbing his hand against it until you're rocking yourself against his hand, moaning his name and he can feel you dripping against his palm.

❝ Have you ever..uh, have you done this before, love?❞ he asks the question both not expecting your answer and preparing himself to be at least a little jealous, more determined to erase anyone else you've ever been with from your memory. ❝ No.❞ you breathe out against his neck as you work his shirt up and out of the way. Topper is frozen again. Trying to process everything, from the first kiss to now, when you've just told him that he's going to be your first lover. Only, his mind corrects as he feels himself getting harder at the mere thought that he's going to be the first, only, boy to bury his cock inside you. He never thought that just finding out you are a virgin would drive him as crazy as it is.

❝ Okay, look at me, love..❞ he's trying to be the voice of reason, to slow things down before they go too far. He wants to make sure you really are ready. He cups your jaw, tilting your gaze up ❝Do you really want this? Are..are you sure?❞, he asks, trying to get you focused on the question.

 But you're begging and the way you keep kissing on him while clinging to him as much as you can melts him. He melts down into you after releasing his hold on your jaw, his face buried in your tits as his hands squeeze your ass. 

❝ I want you, Top. Nobody else. You.❞ you answer quietly, cupping his face to make him look up at you so he knows you mean it and you're not just in the heat of the moment. ❝ You.❞

It's everything he's always wanted to hear and given up on hearing. He's all over you after it sinks in, lips against soft skin, hands anywhere he can get them on you. ❝ I'm..fuck.❞ he breathes out against your mouth as he crashes his mouth against yours, ❝ I'm yours, okay?❞ he promises, melting into you so much that you're pressed back against the window.

Your fingers drag over his abdomen as you take in what he's promising. You weren't expecting it, you're blown away.

You whine out in need as you tug at the waistband of his boxers. He chuckles.

❝ Oh no. No, love, not until I get a taste of you first.❞ he mutters against the shell of your ear. Thick digits hook in the side of your panties, he works them down your legs and when they settle at your ankles, he gets down on his knees in front of you, gazing up. ❝ C'mon, love.. open those pretty legs for me. Let me see what I'm doing to you.❞ he murmurs, parting your legs with his hands. As he sets sights on your bare cunt -and how wet you are, he barely stops a groan at the sight. You fidget a little, squirming in his intent gaze because he's your first. This is all so very new to you. You’re afraid that he's going to change his mind. ❝ Relax, love. I swear to God I'm gonna take care of you,  baby.❞

His tongue drags over the outline of his lips as moonlight makes your skin glisten, you're dripping for him and he's barely done a thing. He takes a pause, a few seconds to wrap his head around the fact that this is real and its happening.. with him. He's the one you've chosen to give yourself to and he's determined not to make you regret it.

His tongue drags over the soft skin, tracing its way up your inner thighs. When you start to giggle because you discover you're ticklish on your inner thighs, he chuckles quietly. When his tongue drags a stripe right up the center of your dripping hot sex, your breath hangs in your throat. He groans at the taste of you as it fills his mouth and two fingers join his tongue, stretching you more than you're used to. Your hand catches in his hair and you tug as his fingers and tongue fuck your virgin cunt to prepare you to be full of him. He mutters against your skin  ❝ Pull harder, love. If it helps.❞ as he buries his tongue deep inside. Your free hand curls around cool metal and you whimper and whine. 

There's a white hot ache that's creeping in, settling in the pit of your stomach as Topper works his fingers and tongue inside you. ❝ Top…❞ you're moaning his name like a prayer as you try to move your hips, desperate for more.

❝ Good girl. Fuck. Fuck,❞ he groans out, the sound of his voice muffled by the way he's got his face buried between your thighs. He stops to breathe - and to watch the way your head falls back and your mouth is hanging open partially, begging him to fuck you. ❝ Such a good girl for me.❞

You're so close. He can feel you tense up. He starts to slow down and you cry out for him, frustrated tears shining in your eyes as he looks up at you, his tongue dragging over your throbbing clit. ❝ Too much, love?❞ he questions.

You nod. He pulls himself up off his knees and steps between your legs, his hands pinning your hands against the glass at your back as he lets his boxers fall to the floor and lines up his cock with your dripping hole. As he fucks into you for the first time, you clench around his cock and it's so tight. His breath catches and when he feels you tense up, he goes still. Kissing on you as he waits for you to get used to taking his cock.

❝ Is it.. are you okay now, love?❞ he asks, gently cupping your jaw as you nod and start trying to rock yourself into him. 

This feels so fucking good, - the thought comes as you clench tight around him and he groans against your neck, plowing into you slow and deep. 

❝ –oh God don't stop dontstop, baby you feel so good. So gooood.❞ you're in the heat of the moment and all he can do is watch as you come undone, the sexy little sounds you're making combined with the way you clench around his thick cock is almost enough to make him come undone. ❝ Easy, love.❞ he coaxes, driving into you at a new angle as he lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, picking you up to slam you down on his cock over and over. ❝ I'm…fuck…I wanna cum, princess. You feel so so good. So good.❞ he's begging for it and he doesn't care, he's got no shame at all. You’re clinging to him as your orgasm rips through you and leaves you a fucked out and needy mess. He's thrown into his own orgasm, your cunt squeezing his cock so perfectly that he can't hold it off. 

You feel him throbbing, hot seed painting your insides and he leans down into you, his forehead against your tits while he takes a few sloppy thrusts. His mouth crashes against yours in a kiss that's equal parts sloppy and sweet.

Down on shore, the festivities are still going, you can see the bonfire from where you are as you slip down from the rail, the two of you helping each other redress, stopping to steal kisses or melt into each other.

As he holds out your 'veil' to the costume, he turns it over in his hands and chuckles quietly. ❝ Tiffany..from Bride of Chucky, right?❞ he asks and you laugh softly.

❝ Nope. I am a bride though.. since my brother thinks that I'm gonna run off to marry you just because I really like you and I stare too much, I decided to prove him right.❞

Topper chuckles. Then it sinks in what you're admitting. He catches up to you as you're about to open the door to the room and he turns you around to face him. ❝ I kinda thought you hated me or that I scared you because you're always rushing off whenever we happen to be alone.. thats not true?❞

You laugh softly and shake your head. ❝ I didn’t want my idiot brother to come after you. If he hurt you, I..❞ you trail off, a hand raised to caress his cheek as you stare up at him. ❝ I'm not trying to scare you or anything but..❞ you lean against him, ❝ I think I could love you. That I have for a long time..❞

He's blown away. He cups your jaw to make you look up at him as he takes in what you've just said. ❝ D-do you mean that?❞

You smile softly and nod. He holds you tighter, his nose against the crown of your head. ❝ He doesn't scare me. And he won't stop me from being with you.❞ Topper promises, staring down at you. 

❝ Wanna go back down?❞ he asks after a few seconds. You laugh and shake your head no, telling him ❝ I only came tonight to be close to you.❞

The two of you do make your way out of the lighthouse but it's to sit on the deck, you caged in by his body as he holds you close and points out different stars in the sky.

[fivelakesinwriting]

Out of Character (Rafe Cameron) Part 6

Warnings: Threats of violence and actual violence, angst/ drama, mentions of drug use, swearing

Authors Note: I'm not finished with Rafe/ Gemma the beginning yet so you all get this little slice first. This hurt to write in some parts, but it will come around.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter if you have a spare moment. I hope you all love it xoxo

***

JJ Maybank climbed the lattice that covered the side of the Mercer home towards her bedroom room. He never went through the front. He worried one day his grooves in the old wood would snap beneath his weight, but that was a problem for Future JJ to worry about.

Gemma was the only person JJ could think to call after everyone had ganged up on him at The Chateau, despite them not having spoke for months. Sure, he flirted with her at the country club, or waved at her at a party. But he had not spoken to Gemma, really spoken to her, for eight months.

Her bedroom window was open like it usually was for him. JJ easily climbed through the open pane and into Gemma's bedroom. He would never admit it out loud, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw her there within arm's reach.

"Hey, babe."

"JJ! Are you okay?" Gemma got up from her bed where she had been reading and ran over to him. She grabbed him by his shoulders to pull him down for a tight hug.

They broke apart and JJ gave her a small smile. He walked around her room, taking in the familiar surroundings again.

"I'm alright. Wanted to see how you were holding up. I'm really sorry about that night, Gem. If I scared you or anything." JJ stated as he cleared his throat. Vulnerable wasn't a natural state for him.

"I mean, you did. You all did. But thank you for that." Gemma nodded as she sat back on the edge of her bed.

JJ slowly, almost with caution made way to sit beside her on the bed. He did not touch her once he sat down. He knew if he started, he couldn't stop. He also knew Rafe Cameron would actually kill him this time.

"Can I ask you something" JJ asked as he leaned back on his hands.

"Sure."

"What happened with you and Topper?"

"Why does it matter?" Gemma scoffed as she stood up and walked to her closet. She moved clothes quickly along the rack as a distraction from his question.

"Because people are talking, Gemma. And I..Why him and not me?" JJ asked sternly as he got up from the bed, gently grabbed her left wrist to turn her towards him.

"JJ, you need to leave." Gemma whispered, her fingertips against his chest to push him away.

"Tell me. What happened? Or what is happening? Please, let me help you." JJ pleaded as he placed his hands on her hips.

"Rafe is coming over from Barry's soon, so you shouldn't be here." Gemma sniffled as she avoided his gaze.

JJ dropped his hands from her hips, took one last look around her room, then made his way to the window once more. Just as he swung a leg out the window to find his grooves in the lattice he saw the familiar Jeep roll up.

"Looks like Prince Charming is here." JJ muttered as he tossed his other leg out the window and lowered himself down.

"JJ, I'm sorry." Gemma replied as she watched him exit the window. Below her room, beneath the lattice on the grass she could hear Rafe yell, "MAYBANK, I FUCKING SEE YOU!"

Gemma cursed to herself as she ran from her window to open her bedroom door. Before she could make her way through the open doorway her father, an intimidating 6'1 stood in front of her.

"Gemma," Anthony Mercer stated with a warning tone in his voice. His reading glasses at the tip of his nose as he stared down at his only child.

"Dad, I was.."

"Why is my bosses son outside chasing the Maybank boy with my good hammer?" Anthony Mercer grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll bring Rafe inside." Gemma whispered as she looked down at her feet.

"Good. And keep him away from that Maybank boy until after Midsummer. After that they can kill each other for all I care." Anthony replied before he turned on his heel and walked towards his office.

Gemma whispered out a "shit" before she ran from her bedroom and out the front door. Rafe and JJ stood in the driveway arguing. Rafe clutched Anthony Mercer's hammer in his right hand as he stood nose to nose with JJ.

"Rafe!" Gemma yelled from the covered porch, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Dirty Pogue." Rafe spat as he turned away from JJ then tossed the hammer in the grass. He walked towards Gemma with a scour.

"The filthiest!" JJ yelled as he backed off the property with a cocky grin.

Rafe walked up on the porch with Gemma, his hands shoved into his pockets as he glared at her through his dark sunglasses.

"Why the fuck was he here?" Rafe asked.

"Rafe.."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Gemma. I thought we were passed this." Rafe growled as he pointed a shaky finger toward the spot JJ once stood.

"Nothing happened!"

"Then why was he climbing out of your window like he was casing the fucking place?" Rafe sneered as he leaned closer to his girlfriend.

"Because he's my friend, and my dad freaks him out. So he doesn't like to use the front door." Gemma replied, exhausted with the conversation.

"I don't ever want to see that fucking Pogue here again. And he isn't your friend, Gemma." Rafe spat before he walked into the Mercer's house.

...

The next day at the country club Rafe played golf with Kelce and Topper, and attempted to mend bridges with Topper. Rafe figured it was better Topper was with him than against him.

"So you think she's fucking Maybank?" Kelce asked as he watched Topper tee off.

"Don't choke, Thornton." Rafe grumbled as he watched Topper miss the ball and create a divot in the grass.

Topper cleared his throat then swung again. He and Rafe didn't talk about what happened that night with Gemma. They only did a line together, Rafe vowing he would break Topper's legs if it happened again. Topper knew it was probably true. Rafe Cameron could be extremely volatile, and had friends in low places.

"No. I don't think she's fucking that Pogue. But I do think he still go this dirty hands where they don't belong."

"Speaking of Pogues.." Kelce muttered as he hit Rafe's arm then pointed to the walkway a couple of feet away from them.

Pope Heyward walked by his lonesome, a case of beer in his hand. Rafe chuckled under his breath before he walked off the golf green and towards Pope.

"Hey, Pogue. " Rafe sneered as he walked up to the smaller young adult and back him against a concrete wall.

"No. Listen, I have to bring these in. Rafe, please."

"Tell you what. You give me...Half of these, and tell your fucking friend Maybank to keep away from my girlfriend." Rafe smirked as he slowly opened the box of Coors with his nine iron.

"Okay. Okay. I will talk to JJ and tell him to stay away from Gemma. I didn't even know they he was talking to Gemma again. But I cannot give you these beers. " Pope rambled, his eyes darted from each Kook to the next.

Rafe placed his hand flat on the bottom of the case of beer before he easily tipped it out of Pope's hands, without the change to register the butt of Rafe's nine iron jabbed into Pope's solar plexus, effectively knocking him to his knees.

"Then you can't have these beers either." Rafe muttered as he sat on his heels heels next to Pope as he gasped for breath.

"Why? Pope gasped as he clutched his stomach. It ached. He had never been in a real fight before. Only rough housing between friends.

"Stay off fucking Figure Eight. And tell your dirty fucking Pogue friend to stay away from my girl. That's why. Clean this shit up." Rafe spat as he stood back up, tightened his golf glove then brushed by his friends to get to the golf green.

Gemma would kill him if she knew what he did to one of her friends, but he had to assert his dominance on the island as Kook King.

**

"Hi, Pope! Gemma smiled as he walked by her quickly, his head hung low. He didn't acknowledge her, in fact, he almost walked right into her.

"Pope! Are you okay?"

He spun on his heel and turned to face her, his eyes ablaze. He may have been the smallest of his friend group, but he still towered over the Mercer girl.

"You know what? Fuck you, Gemma. This is all your fault. Don't come around us anymore. And stay away from The Cut. You don't belong there. " Pope sneered with a pointed finger before he stomped out of the building towards the docks.

Pope ignored the guilty feeling he had immediately in his gut after he yelled at Gemma. He had always liked her, but he knew she was trouble for the Pogues. It was best she stayed around Figure Eight, and away from JJ.

Pope spat his blood on the pristine walkway of the country club as he crossed to the docks. He hoped it stained. He started the boat and waited for JJ.

"Dude! You are never gonna guess what just happened to me! I love grocery runs." JJ yelled as he ran up the docks and onto the boat.

Pope wordlessly released the boat, then started off towards home. He kept his eyes trained foward with a scowl.

"What's up? Wait..what fucking happened to you?" JJ asked as he pulled the brim of his friend's hat up to see his battered face.

"Got jumped. Rafe Cameron and his goons on the course. He said to stay off Figure Eight, and that you should stay away from his girlfriend." Pope grumbled as he pulled away from JJ.

"That motherfucker. Was Gemma there?" JJ growled as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I didn't see Gemma." Pope lied as he set his jaw.

"It's fine. Listen. This is fucking war now. They hit us, we hit them back. Let's go. I have an idea." JJ mumbled as he grabbed his cigarettes from his back pocket.

[obx-snippets]

Honey & Glass ❀ Kiara Carrera

Summary: After a night of caring for baby sea turtles, y/n’s only light in her life is Kiara Carrera. But being a Thornton is a heavy crown to bear along with all the expectations.

Warning: cursing, (I think that’s it, let me know)

word count: 4.5k

Pairing: Kiara Carrera x female!reader

Masterlist

a/n: this is my first Kie one shot so hopfully you enjoy!  This fic is based off the song Little Miss Perfect. Stayed up till like 4 am writing this so I’m fried now. But leave feedback of your thoughts. 

*^credits to owner^* ❀❀❀ The verdant hills of the country club golf course weren't as occupied this Sunday morning like it was on other days. The Camerons were scattered about, Rafe and Sarah arguing over a hole in one while Wheezie continually hit her ball until she made it into a nearby lake. Despite the distraction going on around them, the Thornton siblings were locked into their game. Standing atop a hill, Y/n was still as she lined up her wedged golf club with the small golf ball lying on the patch of grass. Topper stood just behind his sister, arms crossed over his blue polo clad chest. A smirk was playing on his lips as he watched his sister's eyes straining on the task at hand. She took the game all too seriously, and it was enjoyable to pester her whenever he had the chance.

Y/n was always known to be the perfect child out of the two. Her ponytails were always slicked back without so much as a stray hair escaping. Straight A's, straight forward, straight path, she doesn't cut corners. She made a point be on time and was even head of the student council at the Kook Academy. Unlike her sensitive turd of a brother who washes himself with girls affection and alcohol whenever he saw Sarah under John B's arm, she's never blacked out at a party. Not once. But even if she attended a party, it wouldn't be her taste considering she only ever jams to Paul McCartney.

Just when y/n was about to make the shot, Scarlet and Sarah wandered by, the blonde's friend passing her a disdainful look. That was the other thing about Y/n Thornton. She wasn't a wealthy Kook by birth. She was adopted when she was only two years old. And though they spoiled her rotten, she can't help but question what she did to get as far as she's gotten.

The scornful look didn't go unnoticed by Topper, and he spared her a glare. Scarlet mirrored his expression before she followed Sarah toward the lake to help Wheezie retrieve her golf ball.

Y/n knew they only hated her because she wasn't a true Kook, and she was blessed with a privileged family. She knew she had done nothing wrong but being little miss perfect wasn't always luxurious. Not when she was hiding a secret that would surely dishonor the family name laid upon her.

Unwinding the tension that built up in her shoulder, Y/n hit the golf ball gently and let it roll into the hole. She squealed slightly and hopped on her white tennis shoes. Topper slowly clapped from behind her, jutting his bottom lips to emphasize he was impressed. The bright smile on her face was worth seeing any day in Topper's opinion.

"Eat grass bitch," Y/n jeered in a drolled tone, bumping Topper's shoulder with her own.  

Topper scoffed at her, raising his hands as he walked to where she was standing just a few seconds ago, rolling his shoulder back to take his shot. "Watch how the real pro does it." he chucked with a smug grin, bringing his sister to roll her eyes.  

Y/n stood next to Topper, resting her weight on the golf club while the other rested on her knee. "Has anyone ever told you that you have shitty form?" she whispered tauntingly in her brother's ear.

Topper swung back, making his sister take a cautious step away before hitting the ball across the field. "I do not!" he said, pointing his gloved hand toward the ball he made into the hole." If anyone has shitty form, it's you!" he jested, hovering his club mockingly in her face before she smacked it away.  

"Whatever, Top, at least my ball never ended up in the lake." y/n sneered playfully over her shoulder as she trotted toward her ball with a skip in her step.

Topper lifted his hand and dropped his arms to his side, rolling his eyes as he followed her. "That was one time!"

The sibling played a few more rounds until Topper called it quits after y/n beat him the rest of the day, making two holes in ones. She had school the next morning anyway, and with the sky colored a deep purple, they thought it was time to turn in for the night.

With her hands swaying by her side, a yawn left y/n lips before she felt Topper bump her shoulder with his own. "So there's rumors going around at school that you've gotta crush on somebody." Topper's tone was hopeful, and the way he lifted his eyebrows suggestively brought her to scoff.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever." she shrugged, suddenly finding the velcro of her white loves quite fascinating.

"Come on! I'm your brother, you can tell me!"

Y/n laughed, letting her ponytail graze her cheek when she whipped her head up toward where Topper walked beside her. "Um, yeah, exactly, you're my brother, I don't really feel like you're the one I should go to for talking about my love life. It's kinda embarrassing."

Topper let his eyes linger on his sister for a moment before looking ahead of him where Rafe and Sarah drove by in their golf cart. The Cameron sibling tossed them a wave in greeting while the Thornton siblings nodded in response. Topper grin began to grow, and he spun on the sole of his foot to walk backward in front of his sister.

"Oh, I know, I know who it is," he said confidently.

Y/n snorted, amused to hear what Topper would pull out of his sleeve. No one would ever know who she had eyes for. She even tried to deny it herself—several times. "Do you now?" she nodded along with his game.

"Yup."

"Shoot then, wise guy."

"It's Rafe, isn't it?"

Y/n nearly choked on her saliva, and she passed her brother a bewildered look. "What- No! Absolutely not." she gasped, shoving him in the chest but to no avail as he stayed standing and laughed heartily at his sister's attempt to knock him down.

"What's wrong with Rafe?" he chuckled teasingly, prodding her on the rib, and opted to walk by her side again.

Once they arrived at his car, she kept her hand on the passenger side handle and glared at her brother through the windows as he stood on the other side. "Should I start alphabetically or chronologically?" she smiled caustically, and Topper mirrored her expression once he unlocked the car, and the two climbed inside.

She thought the discussion had dropped once they shut the doors, and the engine roared to life. But Topper pestered on with his investigation.

"Is it Kelce?"

"Nope." she sighed deeply, resting her head back, irritated he wouldn't drop it. She was saddened that he would never guess the name even if he listed off all the boys on the island.

He tapped his finger anxiously on the steering wheel. "Jeremy from your AP classes?"

"No, Topper."

"Whatever," he huffed in defeat, "I'll find out eventually! Don't you worry."

No, you won't, she thought, letting her eyes draw to the trees in passing. If Topper weren't so concentrated on the dark road ahead, he would have seen the frown that made permanent residence on his sister's face the rest of the ride home. He would have even caught a glimpse of the sole tear that rolled down her cheeks as she thought of the one person she could never have and the one person no one could know she wanted.

___

Adjusting her straightened hair in the mirror that was magnetized in the back of her locker, y/n's mind was reeling with all the duties she had ahead of her. She had a council meeting next period, and she hasn't even gotten her notes in order. Sarah Cameron was leaning against her locker that resided next to y/n, worry pooling in her eyes as she watched her run her hands through her hair for the hundredth time since they've been standing there.

"If you keep stressing your hair like that, it's gonna fall out." Sarah pointed out, leaning her head against the cold metal, and tucked a blonde strand behind her ear.

Y/n shook her head, rubbing her temple with the tip of her fingers. "Sarah, I've been up all. night." she emphases, slamming her locker shut with more force than she intended and turned to her friend, the creases on her forehead prominent. "All night, trying to accommodate everything, and even then, I doubt Trevor will be satisfied. Such a pain my ass, I swear.."

"Stop beating yourself over it, my god. Trever will just have to grow a pair and get over it. You're busy as it is, and he can't expect you to drown yourself in all this crap."

Taking a deep inhale of breath, y/n wrung her hands to rid of the nerves. "Okay, how do I look? Head of the student council worthy?" she padded down the uniform skirt that barely reached past her fings while Sarah tugged on the lapels of her navy blue blazer, her eyes scanning her golden brooch that was pinned to the side.

"You're a babe y/n. Of course, you look good! Also, I was thinking after school we could stop by Scarlet's..."

A pretty girl walks by my locker

my heart gives a flutter

but I don't dare utter a word

cause that would be absurd behavior

for little miss perfect.

Sarah's words are slowly drowned out once y/n's eyes catch sight of Kiara Carrera gracefully walking by. Everything slows, and she wasn't sure if it was time slowing down in her favor or if it was her mind, giving her the chance to catch a glimpse of the one true thing that kept y/n going. The one person who she thought about before shutting her eyes and the first thing she smiled about once she woke up.  

The way her uniform hugged around her curves—the way her tie was loosened as it draped under the collar of her blouse. Kiara's long brown curls looked especially curlier that day as they bounced past her shoulder with every step. The half updo bun she wore accentuated her oval face perfectly, and it gave more space for y/n to admire her features.  

Y/n and Kira have known each other since they both volunteered to watch over a turtle nest back in July. They were both surprised to see each other but nevertheless fell into a smooth rhythm of comfortable conversation. The whole night was spent naming all the baby sea turtles after star constellations that they thought fit their personality. They snuggled close for the majority of the night after Kiara ran to Haywards with a spare key to grab a few snacks to help them survive the night. The cool night air was becoming overwhelming, so they decided to keep up the chattering to distract themselves.

Y/n took this as two girls blossoming a newfound friendship, but it was when Kiara began to speak that really sparked her interest. But the funny thing was, it wasn't something specific. It was everything she was saying. Kiara spoke of her passion for music, her friends, the environment, her dreams, and hopes. She spoke so gracefully that it drew y/n in more and more like a siren thirsty for water. Before she fell in love with Kiara, she fell in love with her words. Her free spirit. Her aura of happiness that drew people in for more. More of the words that trickled from her plump lips light honey. Something so sweet that y/n craved more than anything.

While she was fawning over the girl as she spoke animatedly about her passion for surfing, a crack was heard from the turtle nest. Racing to look over the small hole with flashlights, radiant smiles colored both girls' features, seeing the sand cave in as little baby sea turtles began crawling from their shells.

For a brief moment, Kira gazed upward to see Y/n eyes glowing with the light and smiled. She loved how carefree she seemed away from the strict counsel of her stepmother. The Thornton name was a heavy crown to bear, and she admired y/n for carrying it so effortlessly. And at this moment, Kiara couldn't help but blush when strands of y/n's hair began to fall near her cheek, and she wanted so badly to brush them away. But she was knocked from her thoughts once she noticed the girl hustling around to clear the area for the turtles to move.

The rest of the night was spent encouraging the turtles as they made their way toward the water and protecting them from possible predators.

"Fuck off, crab!" Kiara shouted, picking up a branch from the sand and poking at a hard exterior near one of the turtles.

"Kie that a rock! Focus!' y/n whispered harshly, afraid she would scare the baby turtles as they paddled down the sand path they created for them that led to the water.

"Shit, you're right-- oh my god its Aries!" Kiara exclaimed, flashing her light down at a turtle that was speeding ahead of the rest.

Y/n quirked a brow, 'How could you possibly know? That could be Sagittarius for all we know."

Kie scoured her flashlight toward her, nearly blinding y/n from the abrupt light assault. "What? No way! That is so Aries, I mean, look at how he's showin off and struttin and being a baddie!" Kie then shined her light toward the hole where the last baby turtle flipped out from his nest and slowly moved toward the water. "That is Sagittarius. The lazy bitch."

"Hey, don't call the turtle bitches-- oh my god, Kiara, a crab!"

"Where!?"

After seeing the sea turtles to safety, Kira and y/n walked a mile to the Wreck, babbling loudly, not caring if the residents shut them up. They were just so happy to be in each other's company. The night ended with the girls eating a couple of plates stacked with truffle fries and a carton of ice cream while diving into more in-depth topics. They cried, laughed, and then cried some more before falling asleep on each other's shoulder in a booth. Mr. Carerra came in the next morning and sent them back to Kiara's house where they all but threw themselves on her bed in the comfort of her thick, warm blankets.

After that, the two would hang out every chance they got, even if there was an unspoken spark hovering between them like a magnet. It brought them closer, but as soon as they dared to think of each other as more than friends, they repelled.

Though they spoke of everything, they never mentioned how they fell asleep with their hands intertwined under the blankets.

Y/n breathed hitched once those almond eyes met hers, and the smile she passed her way was at par with the brightness of the sun. It warmed every part of her being, making her heart melt in an instant. Kiara's smile could light up a room; everyone knows that. But what they can't see is that she lights y/n up inside completely that every difficulty of loving her disappears. Every crevice of doubt. Every corner of insecurity. Ever crack of self-loathing. Kiara Carrera filled those spaces so selflessly, and all it took was a smile.  

"Crush" was such an infantile word. But if that's what Topper wanted to call it, then yes, she had a crush on Kiara Carrera.

No, I can't risk falling off my throne,

Love is something you don't even know.

Two hands swaying in front of her face made her vision dizzy once she came back to reality and looked to Sarah, who looked relieved to finally grasp her attention.

"Dude bell rang. You ready?" she asked.

Y/n faked a smile before lifting her head a bit higher once Kira passed her and disappeared from sight. "Um yeah--yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

Sarah looped her arm with hers, and the two girls moved down the hall. Sarah felt the stiffness in her friend's arm and tilted her head with furrowed brows. "You okay?" she inquired softly with a smile.

"Just lost in thought is all," y/n, sighed, sucking on her bottom lips as she cast her eyes to her shoes.

"Must be unfamiliar territory then." Sarah laughed, giving her a playful shove, bringing y/n to bashfully shake her head at the compliment. "Now chin up, let's show Trevor, who's boss."

Once again, she let her thoughts of Kiara settle in a little corner of her brain, not to be touched until necessary, and went about her day.

Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward

Straight girl

Little miss perfect

that's me

One night my friend's stayed over

We laughed and drink and ordered

Something about her drew me in

What? It's totally platonic

"That is such a lie, Sarah, and you know it!" Y/n muffled around a bite of potato chips. She had called out her blonde friend, who rests her back against her bed's headboard while in a heated game of Kiss, Marry, Kill.

"What is so wrong about the order? It seems fine!" Sarah hiccuped after taking a swig of the large bottle of wine Kiara brought from home. She was currently sitting next to y/n; they're shoulders pressing together as they evened their weight on each other.

"Seriously. Marry Pope, kiss John B, and kill JJ? Where's the favor in that!" Kiara questioned with a shake of her head.

"Hey, Pope is superior." Y/n reminded her as she pointed toward Kiara with the loose finger that wasn't gripping the neck of the wine bottle. She tossed her head back and let the sweet, pungent taste burn her throat.

"Well, of course, he is, that answer is fine but c'mon! Kiss JJ and Kill John B! Simple." Kiara said, letting her thumb wipe off a drip of wine that rested on y/n chin. Too dazzled with a fascination with the spinning fan above her, Sarah didn't notice the lingering glances happening between Kie and Y/n.

Their eyes stayed glued, and Kiara smirked as a blush crept up y/n cheek. She brought her thumb to her lips and tasted the wine that didn't make it into y/n mouth before turning back to Sarah.

"JB is my boyfriend, Kie!" Sarah whined, lightly kicking her legs in a pout with her eyes squeezed shut, the onset of a headache beginning to rack her brain.

"You and John B are a literal walking hallmark movie!" Y/n told her with irritation lacing her tone. "I think he'll understand that you picked JJ over him in a game!"

"But...but -but I - I love jombee," Sarah slurred moments before a silent sob broke her lungs.

Kiara and Y/n both groaned in unison, disregarding how emotional Sarah got after too much drinking. "Pass me the damn bottle," Kira demanded with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," y/n replied.

That night was so exciting

Her smirks were so enticing

Hours speed by like seconds

Then, what happens is iconic

She takes a sip, I bite my lip

she tells a joke, I nearly choke

she braids my hair, I sit there

blacking out for the first time

With her straight hair now pulled back into a loose french braid made by the one and only Kiara, the two decided upon a game of never have I ever. After consoling Sarah for god knows what, the blonde fell asleep, leaving Kiara and y/n to sit at the end of the bed.

"Never have I ever called a turtle a bitch." Y/n narrowed her eyes, sitting on the balls of her feet, waiting for Kiara to drink from the wine bottle.

Kiara threw her head back, and a groan erupted from her chest while her loose, curly hair brushed past her shoulder. "Would you let that go? You know I love those turtles!" Kiara said, sipping the wine from the space in front of her as she sits criss-cross.  

Her eyes flickered around the bottle, meeting y/n eyes for a moment, making her bite her lip and look down at her fiddling hands that rested in her lap.

"I don't think Sagittarius appreciated being insulted. He was just taking his time." y/n said, finally looking back up to see Kie handing her the bottle.

"At least I didn't forget their names! What kind of mother are you?" Kie chuckled, her fingers lining the edge of her oversized yellow t-shirt that covered her gray shorts.

Y/n's lips parted, and shrugged her shoulders aggressively. "We named them when they haven't even hatched yet! Can you blame me for getting confused?"

Kiara's face was reddened by the second as a sudden laugh surpassed her lips. "A mother always knows." she chuckled.

With her eyes fluttered shut, y/n took this time to admire her once again. She watched her selfishly like no one else should have the honor of seeing Kiara in such a lighthearted state where only the two of them could be alone. Nothing was really funny about what she had said, but if she could hear her adorable snort, she didn't mind. She had a laugh like shattering glass, something you want to get so close to, but y/n was sure she would get cut with the shards.

"Right because you are so mother oriented." y/n mumbled, watching as Kiara calmed down and steadied her breathing; she brushed some hair from her face and settled down until her eyes caught y/n's. She could see wind stirred waves in her eyes. If one were brave enough to enter their depths, all else would blur, and you'd fall so deep in love that you'd choose to stay there no matter what.

Y/n was not sure what took over her. It must have been the ambiance of silence, but she couldn't take her eyes off Kiara's wet lips that had just consumed the wine. Uncertainty flooded Kiara's eyes as Y/n hesitantly moved forward, then gently cupped her jaw in her hands and pressed her lips against her lips. Kiara stayed frozen in place, her hands raised around y/n silhouette that was slightly hovering over her like she was afraid to touch her. Because if she touched her, then it made it real. But she wasn't pushing her away, and she didn't know why.

The kiss was innocent, new, an unknown territory that y/n was afraid to tread until now. All the expectations placed upon her to be the model daughter disappeared with Kiara Carrera. The perfect girl her mother wanted was defying everything society said was wrong. But if it was so wrong, why did she feel Kiara's hands touch her waist and kiss her back? The taste of wine was exchanged between their sweet kiss and shared breath. So sweet and savory like honey, but once Y/n pulled away and opened her eyes, her heart shattered like glass. As if what she had just done destroyed her whole being. The glass cut deep like she touched something that she shouldn't have, and now she was paying for it.

Next thing I know, I lose control

I finally kiss her, but oh no

I see a face in my window

then my brain starts to go

She saw her reflection. She saw herself. The reflection of someone she didn't recognize, and she felt an ache in her heart once she met Kiara's eyes again. At that moment, they both seemed to realize what they had done and quickly moved away from one another, standing up to face each other on either side of the bed.

No, you can't risk falling off your throne

Love

Is something you don't even know

Thunder rumbled in the sky, the clouds grayed and shifted the cold air into a moist, dewy atmosphere. Rain droplets raced down y/n umbrella, creating a curtain of water around her body as she stood barefoot at the beach. Her mind was lulled with last night's events, and she hated herself for driving Kiara away. Y/n eyes observed each raindrop like a kaleidoscope. She wondered if she could stop time just one last time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside one of those raindrops and take the gravity propelled ride to the earth. Maybe then, she would be able to melt away into nothingness.

She let her hands stretch out from the safety of her blue umbrella and felt the cold rain soak over her hand. Her eyes gloss over with unshed tears, thinking of the night with Kiara on the beach. Oh, how she wishes she could do it over, just to have on a normal night like that again.

The shifting of sand beside her pulled her from her thoughts, and she stiffened once she caught a glimpse of Kiara's curly hair beside her, holding her own yellow umbrella.

The sound of gentle rain upon the surface shielding their head is all that filled the air. That's what kept y/n from crying once Kiara began to speak.

"We can still be friends y/n."

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she didn't care when a warm tear slid down her cheek.

"Okay," she mumbles in response, not believing herself to say anymore. She would surely break down, and she couldn't hurt Kiara like that. Not when she cornered her in a difficult situation.

She could hear Kiara sniffle, and she faced her quickly. "I'm sorry, Yn. You have no idea how sorry I am, but-- I just can't do it."

Y/n chin wobbled, and she quickly bit down on her lip before a whimper could escape. "It's okay," she murmured with a crack in her voice.

That crack nearly broke Kiara in her entirely, and she nearly reached out to touch her arm but stopped.

"Y/n/n, please say something else," Kiara was now crying, her almond eyes looking darker, and the frown on her lips broke y/n's whole being. "Just say something to make me stay. And I will, but I have to hear it from you first."

Y/n let in a shaky breath and finally found the courage to look at Kiara. She tilted her head, a sad smile presenting itself on her quivering lips. "What is it worth if I can't tell everyone else that I love you, Kiara?"

Both girls stood silent, and the decision was made. Hours passed, and a lonesome blue umbrella stayed put on the beach while the yellow one was long gone. Once she was sure Kiara was gone, Y/n dropped the umbrella from her shaking hands and let the sob she held rack her body. She clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet the scream she wanted to let erupt. Holding her body, she let the rain drown out her cries and felt the memory of Kiara's lips be consumed by the raindrops to melt away into the earth.

Rewind, induce amnesia

Deny the truth it easier

You're just confused, believe her

When she says there's nothing there

It's never worth it

When you're little miss perfect.

@pogueszn @mdlyncline @cordeliascrown @acvross-the-universe

 @x-lulu @bricksatanakinswindow @ponyboys-sunsets @kaitieskidmore1 @casper17 @moonshinerbynight @illbesafeforyou @crxstalreeds

[yourlocalauthor]

Adore You PT.2

Pairing: Topper x Reader

Summary: Reader moved to the OBX two years ago. One year in she started dating Topper Thornton. Our once feisty reader, is now struggling with an identity crisis (this is shit but its 230 where i am)

Word Count: 2.4k+

Warnings: Drugs and Alcohol, and some cursing. That should be all.

Additional: This part two go read part one . tagging @goddsquad again because one of her posts inspired me to do this

Part 1

Things were finally good. For the first time in two years you weren’t desperate to get off the island. Things were very different for you, and you didn’t mind it. Last year after that night, you and Topper hung out. Matter of fact you had begun hanging out with your brother’s friend group. He wasn’t happy, but you were able to black mail him over your knowledge of him and his new found love for cocaine. Although he swears it was just the one time. So life began to change a little bit for you. That summer was magical, and you owed it all to your drunk self walking in on your brother doing a line of coke. You had begun dating Topper in late July. Since then things had only gone up hill for you, at school people were actually talking to you. You had actual kook girls talking to you, and deep down you knew they were doing it because of your boyfriend, and/or brother. The brother part wasn’t new to you though. But being Topper’s girlfriend wasn’t easy; you had a new reputation to uphold, his family’s. You didn’t think much of it, until his mother pulled you aside one day. Topper’s mother scared the shit of you. She always gave you this glare, even before you even knew Topper. You were fairly sure she was a part of the neighborhood women who enjoyed talking about you. Your suspicions were only confirmed when she talked to you. She told you to put away the whole charade, act like a real lady, and to stop dressing like a whore. When you got home you cried for hours, but you loved Topper. You loved him so much that you would put up with it. So you changed yourself, your bright eyeshadows were saved for going out and partying, the little gemstones you’d stick to your face were in a drawer collecting dust, no more low cut shirts, or low coverage bottoms. There were days where you’d look in the mirror, and a stranger would be staring back at you. And it was foolish, how less then a year ago you didn’t care what anyone on this stupid island thought of you, but ever since people started to acknowledge your existence in a somewhat positive way you missed having that attention. You didn’t want it to go away, so you did what you needed to. You didn’t expect him too, but Topper started to notice. He’d ask about it here and there and you’d tell him you just didn’t feel like going through the whole process of getting ready. He believed you and then you’d get back to whatever the two of you were doing. And it worked for the two of you, and you weren’t exactly sure what love felt like but this felt like it. So you were willing to do whatever you needed to, to stay with him.

Dinner parties you hated them. Always had, and probably always will. But the thing with suddenly becoming a part of the elite of the elite Kooks, was they threw a lot of them. Coincidentally the Thorntons had this huge party, every year where practically everyone on the figure eight was invited. You remembered the one last year, you were in New York much to your mother's dismay but it was your best friend’s birthday and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. But of course you couldn’t skip it this year. You dreaded Friday evening, looking for an excuse to get away but of course the time came and you had to start getting ready.

You needed to be simple. You never thought you’d think like that, but here you were. You had gone out towards the mainland, last weekend with a bunch of your ‘girlfriends’. The only reason you were all friends was because your boyfriends were all friends, and it worked ever so slightly. You all were able to benefit each out, in your case they were able to help you dress for the occasion. They helped you pick out this flowery flowy white dress, it ended just about your knees, it had a scooped neckline that didn’t show off too much, and it had little sleeves. Deep down you hated how boring it was, but the only thing running through your mind was ‘Mrs. Thornton would love this.’ You hated to admit it but you’d do anything to impress her. Your friends helped you buy some Anastasia Beverly Hills palette, they said the neutrals would be really useful and would make you achieve that natural no makeup makeup look. You always thought no makeup makeup looks were silly but to each their own. What your friends didn't know was you bought another pair of lashes on the way out of Ulta. No matter how toned down you made yourself look, you always had lashes. They were your one few sources of freedom. You pulled out the dress, staring at it. White went well with your tan, maybe that's why you always managed to slip the color into your outfits. You pulled out the dress, sliding it on. You stared into your mirror, but you weren’t staring back. It was another girl, a girl who looked like she was born and raised a kook. Someone who hadn’t seen much in life, and was going to live a boring uneventful life. And you couldn’t believe it was you, but maybe this was who you were turning into… a trophy wife. You ignored that thought, walking over to your vanity to do your makeup. And once you were done, you looked back at the mirror. The only thing that said you was your lashes, and you were content with that for now. You grabbed your phone, and the little bag from the first time you really met Topper. It was your go to party bag, it had enough room for everything, and black went with everything.

Arriving at your boyfriend’s house was no different than the hundreds of times you’ve done it before. You guys were early, of course you had to be. It was so weird how dating in the Outer Banks, no matter how old you were your families became a family together. So your mother went off with Topper’s mother, your little brother trailing behind. Your father and older brother went off with Topper’s dad already talking about golf, and boats and whatever men liked to talk about. Which left you to find Topper. You went up the stairs taking the familiar route to his room, and of course he was there working on something at his desk. You knew a lot of people thought he was just another rich egotistical asshole. But deep down, he wasn’t, he worked his ass off in school always trying his best to impress his dad, and he cared about you so much. You two weren’t big on PDA, it was mainly you but he respected you enough. You just didn’t want to hear shit about you kissing your boyfriend so you just didn’t do it in public. But in private he was the most caring, gentle, sweetest human being to you. Sometimes you felt like you weren’t good enough, there were so many girls on the island he could’ve chosen. Girls who were more put together, able to be presentable at all times. Ones who fit in with the dinner party crowds, were able to have proper conversations with adults, and were able to be the center of attention but in a good way. You tried to put your negative thoughts behind, wanting to leave them at the door. You gently knocked on the door frame, a smile on your face.

“Hey”

You watched him turn around, a large smile spread across his face as he stood up from his chair. He casually walked over to you, and brought his hands to your cheeks. He leaned down, as you leaned forward practically melting into the kiss, Of course he pulled away first, looking you up and down once again.

“You look...different.”

“Different?”

“It’s just so… toned down.”

“Well I mean it’s a dinner party so I didn’t want too you know, do the whole thing.”

You could see him pondering, and then choosing to ignore it becoming distracted by whatever had popped up next in his mind.

“I just remembered I got you something. And before you say anything, consider it an early anniversary gift, even though you said you didn’t want to do anything for it. I just saw this, the last time I was on the mainland and had to get them for you.”

Gifts, that was one of Topper’s specialties. It was a little more excessive when you first began dating, until you told him how you felt. But every now and then for some holiday or something he’d get you something extravagant. It sucked because you weren’t good at giving gifts, you liked making memories instead of giving gifts.

“Top…”

“Just close your eyes okay?”

You obliged as you felt him move closer to you, his hot breath practically on your neck. You waited patiently, until you felt the cool familiar feeling of a chain wrapping around your neck. You could feel his thumbs graze across your neck, as you assumed he was fumbling with the clasp.

“Open”

You slowly opened your eyes, looking across at the mirror. It was a small silver necklace, with a little blueish gem at the center of the chain. And it felt like too much.

“Topper, I don’t deserve this.”

“Yes you do, it’s a gift for me too. It’ll remind me of how we’ve been together for a year everytime you wear it.

“I didn’t even get you anything. We promised each other no gifts.”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N you’re all I need really.”

You stared at the mirror, at the two of you standing in it. You weren’t exactly sure how to react to this whole situation, it just made you feel like a worse girlfriend.

“Thank you… I’m going to go see if I can help downstairs.”

You gave him a small peck, before turning back out the door and down the stairs.

A special note about Kooks, they don’t care about drinking laws. So basically anyone over the age of sixteen was drinking. You didn’t really realize you were drinking a lot. You had built up such a tolerance, that you didn’t realize you were drunk. You kept filling up your glass with wine, not that the adults were even bothered at paying attention. In fact you were fairly certain no one's eyes were on you, for the first time since you could remember. No one was paying attention to you, or so you thought. From across your seat Topper, was watching you slyly he could see you taking drink after drink, mentally counting them.

After dinner everyone was socializing, but you were very drunk. You tried your best at hiding it, sitting down, distancing yourself from those around. It was a good thing that most of the adults were too distracted or drunk to notice you. God you were such a shitty girlfriend. You were definitely an embarrassment. You stood up from your spot, trying to find a room that was empty. You stumbled here and there but you made it to the living room, although it wasn’t really a living room. Point was you just needed to get past everyone and you were good. You were just about to get through the whole crow when a certain blonde caught your eye. Topper was talking to some girl, you believed her name was Chelsea but you didn’t really care. What you cared up was the way she’d occasionally touch his arm, and look at him. And honestly it just made everything you were feeling worse. You could see he wasn’t exactly comfortable, but your drunken state wasn’t paying attention to that factor. You cared about how that was supposed to be you, instead of being drunk, and you couldn’t help the thought of you being a shitty girlfriend running through your mind again. It was only until Topper saw you did you move, you moved past the crowd, heading up the stairs into one of the empty guest rooms despite the calls of your name. You really shouldn’t of been surprised when he came in not even moments later shutting the door behind him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah just peachy, why do you ask?”

“Look Y/N you freaked out about the necklace but is that really all that’s going on? You’ve been so different these past couple of months.”

He stepped closer to you, gently taking your hands into yours. And that’s when the tears began to flow.

“I’m a shitty girlfriend.”

“No you’re not”

“Yes I am.”

“Y/N I don’t care about some stupid anniversary gift.”

“No it’s not that, I’m not a perfect Kook. I’m not even a good one.”

“Y/N I don’t car-”

“We should break up.”

“Y/N/“

“I’m serious, your mom would be so happy. She hates me.”

“I don’t care about what she thinks.”

“Well I do, and I can’t stand here knowing you deserve better. You deserve someone, who’ll accept all your gifts no questions asked, someone who doesn’t get drunk at dinner parties, someone who doesn’t dress like I do, someone who knows how to do natural makeup, and talk like a proper lady-”

“Y/N”

“You just deserve better Top, I don’t deserve you. I’m a mess compared to you and your family.”

“Y/N I don’t care.”

“Well maybe you should. Maybe you should care how clueless I am when it comes to stuff like this. You deserve some prissy, perfect girl not me, I’m just a fucking mes-”

You were shut up by a kiss. Topper pulled back, looking at you while wiping your tears with his thumb.

“Y/N. I don’t want some prissy princess. I want you. You’re absolutely gorgeous inside and out. I don’t want you to be like the other girls on the island. I want you to be you, that’s why I fell in love with you. And that’s why I still love you, so can you please just be quiet and let me adore you?”

You gave him a small nod, and it was once again sweet and gentle. And for the first time you felt like a weight had been lifted. You  didn’t care what anyone thought anymore because Topper loved you, he loved you for you and quite frankly that’s all that mattered.

[krumbine]

Videorama: Revenge of the Nooooo!

The year is 2005.

George W. Bush is just starting his second term in the White House.

The hottest game in cell phone technology is the Motorola Razr V3 and the PalmOne Treo 650.

The iPhone is still a few years away.

The Rise of Skywalker isn’t even a twinkle in Disney’s eye––an eye that’s currently preoccupied with an overly optimistic Narnia Franchise Wet Dream.

In fact, Disney wouldn’t even buy Star Wars for another seven years.

It’s summer in 2005 and millions of marketing dollars can still pull the wool over the eyes of a naive movie-going public, dictating box office success regardless of audience consensus or even general quality of filmmaking.

All hail the grand illusion of capitalism.

It’s a warm evening in the summer of 2005 and video rental stores are still a thing.

One particular, independently-run store––freestanding, double glass doors on the left side of the brick facade, small parking lot––was just turning its sign on as dusk settled.

Videorama was open for business.

*

Tobey blinked incredulously at the three teenagers standing on the other side of the counter. His brain hurt as he attempted to summon the endurance needed to fathom the sheer stupidity of their question.

To buy himself some time, Tobey blinked again.

“… well?” asked the one with the long greasy hair. “Do you have it?”

There was no way these kids were serious.

Tobey shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

The one with a bad case of acne threw his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, for fuck’s sake!”

Tobey looked over at the other man behind the video store counter, feet up, sketch pad in lap. “I think these guys are serious.”

The third teenager was pale and wore a lot of heavy black eyeliner. He spoke in a flat monotone: “Catwoman. Do you have it or not?”

Tobey broke into a lopsided grin. “Oh, I get it. This is like a prank, right? Where’s the hidden camera?” Tobey propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Am I gonna be on the internet?!”

Long Hair was reaching his limit. “C’mon, man, we just wanna rent the movie.”

Tobey’s grin dropped. “No joke?”

“Dude.”

“Catwoman?”

They were practically pleading. “Do you have it or not?”

Tobey stood back, somber. This was worse than he thought. “Holy fucking shit.” He turned again to the other guy behind the counter. “Kurt, these guys are actually serious.”

Kurt didn’t look up from his sketch pad. “Hm.”

Zits backhanded Long Hair’s chest. “This is ridiculous, man.  Let’s get outta here.”

Almost through this, Tobe.

Eyeliner started for the exit. “Fuck these asswipes.”

Fuck me.

“Alright, you fucking hormone-addled, gene-pool rejects. Listen.” Tobey leaned forward. “I can appreciate the fact that the three of you otherwise fine young gentlemen are undoubtedly blinded by your adolescent throes of puberty––to saying nothing of the ungodly amount of jizz sprayed in your eyes from the nonstop circle jerk that is your formative years––so it stands to reason that the mere notion of Halle Berry sporting a whip and a leather catsuit is enough to make you pop your collective nut––which, again, I do understand. Halle Berry is a fine specimen of the female gender and I myself have spent many a lonely night pondering Ms. Berry’s lithe and supple … skills.”

Tobey lost himself for a moment and the three teenagers stared at him in confusion. Tobey nodded absently and then returned to the conversation.

“Fellas,” he implored. “All that being said, you cannot tell me that simple, unabashed horniness is just cause for what will amount to the severe rapage of your individual minds––a tragic and unavoidable fate that you will all most assuredly fall victim to should you proceed to rent the motion picture that is Catwoman.”

To buy themselves a moment to process Tobey’s rant, the three teenagers blinked at him.

“… yes?” Zits said, lacking any sense of surety of himself.

Tobey sighed. Definitely worse than he thought. With a sad shake of his head: “Look, let me make a suggestion. Go with Monster’s Ball instead. It’s got our girl in it, bare titties and all. Lots of sex plus it’s a flick that won’t rot your brain. It’s a goddamned win-win for everybody. Especially you.”

Tobey pointed at Eyeliner before changing his mind. “Well, maybe not everybody.”

Eyeliner’s face was as a neutral as his voice. “Isn’t she fucking Billy Bob Thornton in that one?”

“So?”

Zits scowled. “Dude, that is so fucking nasty! He’s all old and wrinkly and shit.”

Tobey wanted to ram an ice pick in his own ear. “What the actual fuck, my man? We've already established that you're watching the flick for Halle Berry's tits, not Billy Bob's ball sack! What the fuck do you care what he looks like?!”

“We don’t!” Long Hair cried. “We just care about Catwoman!”

Tobey threw his hands in the air. There was no reasoning with these kids. “Okay, fine. I see how it is. Get out.”

Incredulous offense from Zits. “What?!”

Ineffable deadpan from Eyeliner. “You’re throwing us out?”

“No. Right now I’m asking you to leave in a gentle yet firm manner, as to assert a polite yet authoritative dominance over this conversation,” Tobey said. “In about twenty seconds I’ll be throwing you out.”

“We just want to rent a movie!” Zits said through gritted teeth and mounting frustration.

“Incorrect,” Tobey responded, raising an index finger. “You want to rent shit. There is a difference, although I can see that the lack of immediate release has caused the cum to bubble up and disorient your brain cells, inhibiting logical cognition. Regardless, I don’t even carry Catwoman since I have a very strict policy on stocking crappy movies.”

Long Hair tilted his head, waiting. “What’s your policy on stocking crappy movies?”

Eyeliner with the deadpan punchline: “He doesn’t.”

“––I don’t,” Tobey said at the same time. He shot Eyeliner an exasperated glare. “C’mon, dude!”

Eyeliner shrugged a shoulder.

Tobey leaned forward. “Now why don’t you three numb-nuts find yourselves a tittie mag, have a circle jerk, and just be done with it already, okay?”

Eyeliner scoffed indifferently. “This is bullshit. Let’s bounce, boys.”

Tobey nodded. “That’s right. But be sure to use plenty of lube. Too much bouncing chafes the shaft.”

Zits lunged across the counter but Long Hair pulled him back. “Fuck you, asshole.”

Tobey glanced down and flipped a page in his Indie Film magazine. “Mm. Clever.”

Zits straightened. He had one card left to play and he was entirely too confident in the move. “Hey. I wanna speak to the manager. Dick.”

Tobey looked up from his magazine. “I am the manager, you dipshit. Now get the hell out of my store before I call the fucking cops and have them throw you out.”

The three teenagers exchanged looks before stumbling to the exit, muttering various expletives under their breaths as they went.

“Yeah, I heard all of that!” Tobey called after them as the bell on the door jingled.

“You handled that well,” Kurt said from behind Tobey.

“You could have jumped in at any time there, buddy.”

“Seemed like you had it handled,” Kurt shrugged.

A young woman stepped up to the counter. Straight blonde hair to her shoulders and curves that Tobey drank in an instant glance, imperceptible the casual observer.

She perceived it. She always did.

“He didn’t have it handled,” the young woman said flatly, placing three DVDs and a member card on the counter.

“I had it handled,” Tobey insisted while he scanned her card. “Sure, I could have used some backup from behind the counter but that’s not to dismiss the overall nature of the situation behind, generally, handled.”

Kurt set his sketch pad aside and fiddled with a television set on the counter. A low-quality video continued playing––it looked like someone had used a cheap video camera to record a movie theater screen.

The girl’s eyebrow went up. “Is that Star Wars?”

Tobey didn’t look. He didn’t have to since they’d been watching the bootleg on a loop for three days. “Yep.”

“The new one?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That just came out in theaters?”

Tobey looked up from scanning the DVDs. “Wow. You’re a regular Veronica Mars. Can’t slip anything past you.”

She all but rolled her eyes and he decided to dial back the sarcasm.

“Yes, Kurt downloaded it a few days ago,” Tobey explained. “I mean, yeah, I paid to see the first two prequels but there was no way in hell I was gonna be stupid enough to let George Fucking Lucas screw me out of another eight bucks for yet another pile of shit he so fondly refers to as epic Star Wars lore.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“It fucking should be.”

“I meant the downloading.”

Tobey held up the three DVDs. “I’m sorry, did you want to rent these movies—” he glanced at the computer screen, “––Alyssa Tanner of 9000 East Westmore Drive, apartment 263? Or is harassing me over my moral obligation to protest the misguided artistic values of a corrupt media empire entertainment enough for you?”

Kurt shot a sideways glance and muttered: “Misguided artistic values?!”

Alyssa shrugged indifferently. “I just thought that in light of your current career path, you might have a better appreciation for the damage caused by downloading movies illegally.”

Kurt put his feet back up on the counter as he turned his attention back to the sketch pad. “Here we go …”

“The damage I cause?!” The mock in Tobey’s outrage was mild at best. “What about the damage George Lucas caused with these blatant cash grabs? Have you seen all the advertisements for this one? He’s spending millions of dollars convincing the world that it’s the greatest film ever!”

“And you’re saying it’s not?”

“If it’s possible, this one is even worse than the last two combined,” Tobey said gravely.

“Dude,” Kurt said, pointing at the television. “It’s the Vader scene.”

Tobey’s hands went up. “Perfect!” To Alyssa: “This is what I’m talking about. This shit is fucking hilarious.”

Alyssa looked at the television as the bootleg copy of Revenge of the Sith played. Darth Vader found out that he killed his girlfriend, clomped around like Frankenstein and then cried out, ‘Nooooo!’

Tobey clicked the television off.

“The only good thing about this movie is that it’s so bad it’s funny,” he said. “We’ve been watching it for days and that Vader scene just keeps getting funnier.”

“You don’t think Lucas deserves a little credit for closing the loop on A New Hope?”

“Does Adolf Hitler deserve credit for closing the loop on World War II?”

“First of all, Hitler lost—”

“Which effectively closed the loop—”

“—and secondly, you’re comparing a movie to a war that literally killed tens of millions of people?!” Alyssa balked.

“I’m comparing three movies to a war that killed tens of millions––”

“Dude!” Kurt cut in.

Tobey sighed. “Fine. Okay. Maybe the prequels aren’t, like, genocide bad––”

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“But they’re still pretty bad.”

At one point, not so long ago, Alyssa had been amused and slightly intrigued by Tobey’s acerbic banter.

That moment had passed.

An awkward silence clung to the air inside the video store. Alyssa glanced at the exit. Kurt’s pencil scratched at his sketch pad.

Tobey held up Alyssa’s rentals. “… you want your movies?”

She took them from Tobey. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She turned for the door and then stopped. “Um …”

“Three day rentals. Due back on Thursday.”

Alyssa turned back to the counter. She grimaced. “Actually, uh, that bootleg—”

Tobey held up a hand. “Wait. Are you saying—”

Alyssa shrugged half-heartedly.

“You wanna borrow my illegally downloaded copy of Revenge of the Sith?”

“I mean, if it’s so bad, you wouldn’t mind letting go of it for a few days,” Alyssa suggested. “Right?”

Tobey studied her grey eyes. There was something about this girl. He chewed his lip, thinking.

“Well?”

Tobey nodded slowly. “Okay, uh, lemme think of a creative way of saying this …” Tobey rubbed his chin and then raised an index finger to the sky. “Oh, I know!”

Tobey threw his hands in the air. “Nooooo!”

*

A VHS rewinder ground on old tape and Kurt cursed as he mashed the eject button, popping the machine open.

“Goddammit,” Kurt seethed. “Why the hell are we still stocking VHS?”

“Same reason we don’t open until four in the afternoon,” Tobey replied as he gathered an armful of DVDs to re-shelve.

“Because you’re too lazy to wake up in the morning?”

“No, because despite appearances, we’re here to serve our customers, Kurt,” Tobey said, strolling the aisles. “Working class Americans. The nine-to-fivers. People rent videos on their way home from work.” Tobey placed a DVD on the shelf. “Or in the middle of the night. There’s been studies. Or something.”

Kurt finished untangling the botched tape and tossed it into the trash. “So what you’re saying is that you’ve got a firm grasp on psychological makeup of our clientele.”

“I’m a savante that way.”

“An idiot savante, sure,” Kurt said with an eye roll.

Tobey placed another DVD. “People mock what they don’t understand.”

“So what about that girl, Alyssa?”

“Pretty sure nobody mocks her,” Tobey replied, scanning a shelf. “Fear her, maybe. Beauty is intimidating. Intelligence doubly so. Beauty and intelligence—”

“I meant her psychological makeup.”

Tobey shrugged absently. “If it’s anything like her physical makeup—”

Kurt sighed. “I mean: why does she come in so often? She was just here yesterday.”

Tobey glanced over at his long-time friend. “She had a two-day rental, Kurt,” he said flatly.

“And that explains why she was here for the past five days in a row, how exactly?” Kurt asked patiently.

Tobey pondered this half-heartedly. “She likes movies?”

Kurt went back to his sketch pad. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot with a stalker, according to you,” Tobey said, shelving the last DVD and returning to his spot behind the counter.

“She’s not a stalker. She’s a nice girl.”

Naughty thoughts ran through Tobey’s head and his eyes went wide. “I bet she is.”

Kurt put his pencil down. “You know, people might actually like you if you weren’t so sarcastic all the time.”

“What are you talking about? People like me. You’re the one who pointed out that I have a stalker,” Tobey said. “Plus, you’re a person, too. You like me.”

Kurt tilted his hand back and forth. “Eh.”

Tobey shrugged indifferently. “Friends come and go. Porn is forever.”

“That sixty-inch TV in your bedroom working out well for you?”

Tobey turned and leaned against the counter, facing Kurt. “I watch it as I fall asleep so that I have pleasant dreams. Of vaginas.” Tobey spread his hands an arms-length apart. “Ten feet wide.”

“So what you’re saying is that the addition of the big-screen pornocopia has obviated any pressing need to actually be liked by the fairer sex?”

“Who needs to be liked when you have a stalker? Plus, there’s always Horatio.”

Kurt blinked. “Who the hell is Horatio?”

Tobey held up his left hand. “We have a very intimate relationship. He knows how to please me in ways that most women just don’t understand. And yes, the big screen pornocopia helps.”

The bell on the door jangled.

“A vagina ten feet wide?” Kurt asked.

“Ten feet wide.”

“You call your hand Horatio?”

“You spend all day drawing superheroes with their dongs out,” Tobey said.

Kurt nodded. “Point.”

“Good to see you’re being as professional as ever.” The voice came from the other side of the counter. It sounded tired and annoyed.

Tobey frowned and didn’t bother to turn around. He grabbed his film magazine. “You know what? Fuck off, my dude. I don’t have time for your shit right now.”

The man on the other side of the counter glanced around the empty video store. “I can see that,” he said. “These late hours of yours really keep the place hopping.”

Tobey sighed and deliberately turned around to face his older brother. “Fuck you very much, Walt.”

Tobey’s brother was two years older and looked about as tired as he sounded. A dark suit with a loosened tie, coifed hair grown limp, distinct bags under his eyes.

Walt help up his hands in a show of  surrender, car keys dangling from his right fingers. “Just here to drop the car off. I’ve got a guy coming first thing in the morning to detail it. Karen’s picking me up in a few minutes.”

Walt tossed the keys to Tobey. They hit him on the chest and bounced on the counter. They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

Kurt focused intently on giving She-Hulk a very large, very veiny cock.

“Uh, last I checked, I’m not your fucking valet, Walt,” Tobey said.

Walt sighed wearily. “I’m not asking you to be—”

“Cause you just up and threw those keys like––”

“Tobey, we need to talk.”

“I really can’t see why.”

“Can we just––”

“Get the fuck out of my store, Walter,” Tobey growled from across the counter.

Walt ran a hand through his hair. “… it’s gonna be five years next month.”

Kurt glanced up and could see Tobey visibly tense, clenching his fists. He promptly looked back down.

“Yeah, so?”

“So …” Walt said slowly as he nodded. “… I want you to come visit them with me.”

Walt tried to meet Tobey’s eyes but the anger shooting across from his brother was brutal.

“… I think it’ll be good for you, Tobe,” Walt said softly.

“No.”

“Tobey––”

“I haven’t gone yet,” Tobey spat out the words. “I’m not going to go and I’m certainly not ever going to go with you.”

“Tobe––”

Tobey cut him off. “Just get the fuck out, Walt. You can wait for Karen outside.”

“I want to talk about the store.”

Tobey’s hands went up. “There it is! Jesus fucking Christ. You lasted all of two minutes that time, Walter. When are you gonna give that one up? They left it to me, cut and dry.”

Kurt decided that She-Hulk’s cock wasn’t big enough and needed to be more throbby.

Tobey shot lasers at his brother. “… you don’t have anything to do with Videorama.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right,” Walt conceded. “I haven’t had anything to do with the store for a long time. But that’s not how I want it to be.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo,” Tobey spat. “It’s not like you have a lot of options since, again, they left it to me, cut and dry.”

Walt straightened his shoulders and looked up, meeting his younger brother’s icy gaze. “Tobey,” he said, “I want to buy the store.”

Tobey’s anger kept his mouth moving before the words registered. “Don’t even fucking––wait––no––what?”

Walt swallowed. “I want to buy Videorama from you.”

For once, Tobey had absolutely nothing to say.

In the silence, Kurt’s pencil slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Oh, nooooo,” Kurt said through a quiet grimace.

###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jordan Krumbine is a professional video editor, digital artist, and creative wizard currently quarantined in Kissimmee, Florida. When not producing content for the likes of Visit Orlando, Orlando Sentinel, or AAA National, Jordan is probably yelling at a stubbornly defective Macbook keyboard, tracking creative projects in Trello, and animating quirky videos with LEGO and other various toys.

Leave a dollar in the Tip Jar: https://ko-fi.com/krumbine

Short stories: https://bit.ly/2XY5D7I Books on Amazon Kindle: https://amzn.to/3bsqK5Y YouTube: https://bit.ly/2W41nSG Twitter: https://bit.ly/2VH0Vbu Facebook: https://bit.ly/2VpnylZ LinkedIn: https://bit.ly/2xnmk1e

http://www.krumbco.com

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A Reasonably Accurate Guess at the John Tavares Sweepstakes

John Tavares may be the most sought-after free agent since the NHL moved to a salary cap model in 2005. Since entering the league in 2009 as the first pick, Tavares is ninth in points with 621 in 669 games; the eight players ahead of him have only played for the team that originally drafted them, which would make Tavares the most prolific scorer to change teams as a free agent since he entered the league.

Tavares is expected this week to listen to pitches from at least five teams at the offices of agent Pat Brisson in Los Angeles and has not ruled out returning to the New York Islanders. Whatever Tavares decides could effect the balance of power in the league.

Without well-placed moles and recording devices inside the CAA building, it’s impossible to know what Tavares will be offered and who exactly will be making a play for his services. But with a vivid imagination and fuel provided by a few slices of pizza, we can present a pretty accurate description of what the Tavares sweepstakes will look like.

Tavares sits on a throne. He’s wearing a toga, crown, and the Infinity Gauntlet, which is filled with Skittles. Brisson is at his side, wearing a cloak with his arms folded. The room is filled with NHL general managers waiting to be called upon by Brisson to beg for Tavares.

Brisson: Don Sweeney, step forward.

Sweeney, trembling, approaches the throne and kneels.

Tavares: Rise, my good sir. Tell me why I should join your Boston Bruins.

Sweeney: Well, before I do that, may I ask you a couple questions?

Tavares: Speak.

Sweeney: You are obviously immensely talented, a complete game-changer for any of us in the room lucky enough to call you part of our organizations.

Tavares: [being fed grapes by Brisson] Quit kissing my backside and ask your questions.

Sweeney: How do you feel about partying?

Tavares: Donald, I can tell you right now hockey is my life. I’m not looking for a party atmosphere or anything like it.

Sweeney: Great. And how do you feel about visiting museums?

Tavares: I’ve lived in New York during my entire playing career. I can tell you that I’ve been to The Met, The Guggenheim—The Museum Of Sex was so totally cool—and there’s also the Museum of The Moving Image in Queens that’s a fun couple hours. I don’t know much about Boston’s museums but I’d be excited to… hey, where you are you going?

Sweeney walks out of the room shaking his head. Brad Treliving of the Calgary Flames leaves right behind him.

Brisson: [rubbing Tavares’s shoulders] That was weird. Very well. Step forward and be heard, Kyle Dubas.

Dubas: [pushing glasses up to his face] We in Toronto have a very interesting situation with our roster and salary cap. We boast one of the youngest, most talented cores in the league but we won’t have to pay them until after next season. That gives us a level of flexibility your current team can’t offer.

Tavares: The freedom to grow facial hair?

The room bursts into laughter. Lou Lamoriello stands up, pulls back his jacket and reveals a gun in his waistband. The laughter stops.

Dubas: [running his fingers through his beard] No. We can offer you a max deal—a one-year, $15.9 million contract. You can come to Toronto, play for us, see how you like the market and the team, then we can revisit the possibility of an eight-year deal next summer.

Tavares: How dare you? How dare you come to the office of my agent, who I hired to get me the best possible deal, a man who works for one of the most powerful agencies in the world, and insinuate that I care about being paid money for my job. I would do this job for free if possible.

Brisson tenses up.

Tavares: I am about winning, something you apparently know very little about.

Dubas: I just won the Calder Cup a week ago and the Leafs GM job the week before that from the guy who is running your current team. I’ve won more in the past two weeks than you’ve won in nine years with the Islanders. Now, I’d like to show you a 24-part presentation about how analytics can help you become a better player.

Tavares: Guards, seize him.

Dubas is dragged from the room by two CAA security guards.

Suddenly, Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” blares from outside the office. It’s Garth Snow in a trench coat holding a jukebox over his head. Lou signals to two muscly Italian gentlemen in flashy suits, who go outside and remove Snow from the premises.

Brisson: [rubbing Tavares’s feet] Can we please get some serious offers here? John is getting bored and wants to try In-N-Out before he heads to the airport.

David Poile of the Nashville Predators and Steve Yzerman of the Tampa Bay Lightning shove forward to the throne.

Poile: Nashville! We have everything you need!

Yzerman: No! Tampa! You have to come to Tampa!

Tavares: [now using a British accent for some reason] Sell me on your franchises.

Poile: We went to the Stanley Cup Final two years ago and won the Presidents’ Trophy last year! We are set up to be great for years!

Yzerman: Oh yeah? So are we and we got to the conference finals last year and play in the world’s easiest division.

Poile: Tennessee doesn’t have a state income tax!

Yzerman: Florida doesn’t have a state income tax!

Tavares: How much can you offer me? What sort of cap space do you have?

Poile: [tugging at collar] Now, when you say “space”... that could mean anything.

Yzerman: [sweating profusely] What is money but a social construct whose value is what we make of it in our minds?

Tavares makes the throat-slashing motion at Brisson.

Brisson: Thanks for coming in, gentlemen. Next!

Coyotes GM John Chayka pops up.

Chayka: Hi, I’m John Chayka and—

Brisson: Next!

Oilers GM Peter Chiarelli takes a shot.

Chiarelli: I’m Peter Chiarelli and if you give me a couple moments of your time—

Brisson: Next!

Jason Botterill: I’m Jason Botterill and Buffalo may not be your first choice but—

Brisson: Who let these guys in here?

Canadiens GM Marc Bergevin pushes forward.

Bergevin: Hey, just out of curiosity, do you speak French?

Tavares: No.

Bergevin: Damn it. But you’re a center, right?

Tavares: Yeah, why?

Bergevin: How do you feel about being traded in a few years for a third-line winger?

Tavares: [laughing]

Bergevin: [glaring intensely]

Tavares: Oh, you’re serious. Why would anyone do that?

Bergevin: Here’s the thing about playing center. You have to want to—

Brisson: Next!

Tavares signals with his finger for Brisson to come closer.

Tavares: Why isn’t Vegas here?

Brisson: I don’t know, my liege.

Tavares: They have cap room, a need for a center and were three wins away from the Stanley Cup last season. Why aren’t they here? They’d be perfect for me.

Brisson: Maybe George McPhee needs Dale Tallon to sign you first so he can trade you to Vegas for 20 cents on the dollar.

Tavares: Oh, Pat. You are my hand and jester all in one. [claps loudly twice] I have grown bored of these proceedings. Let’s wrap this up, for all this listening to how great I am has made me weary. Step forward and claim your prize—me.

The crowd gasps. Doug Wilson of the San Jose Sharks steps to the throne. Joe Thornton and Brent Burns place two treasure chests on the floor on either side of Wilson.

Wilson: My lord, I come with good tidings from Northern California and a very generous offer.

Thornton and Burns open the chests. They are filled with gold.

Wilson: Now, I can’t offer you a tax-friendly state like the Predators and Lightning can—

Dallas GM Jim Nill screams from the back of the room.

Nill: And the Stars!

Wilson: [sighs] And the Stars. I can’t offer you a chance to play in your home country or your home province. I can’t offer you a massive one-year deal. I can’t offer you a chance to play for a Cup finalist from a year ago. But I can offer you something everyone else in this room can’t.

Tavares: I’m listening.

Wilson: You know how you love the anonymity of playing for the Islanders? The ability to just focus on hockey and not worry about all the media pressure that can come with being a superstar or the face of the franchise?

Tavares: I do.

Wilson: Well, imagine that same scenario, only it’s for a team that’s been to the playoffs in 13 of the past 14 postseasons in a city where the weather is perfect almost all year-round and there’s even less media to deal with on a regular basis.

Tavares: OK, that all sounds great, and while I don’t care at all about money…

Brisson: [coughing] Bullshit.

Tavares: …can you even afford to pay me a fair salary?

Wilson: We have nearly $19 million in cap space with no pressing needs to re-sign anyone currently on the roster.

Thornton: Doug, I’m right here.

Wilson: We can make you the No. 1 center we haven’t had in a while.

Thornton: Seriously, I can hear you.

Wilson: We had an $8 million hole on the roster last year and still had 100 points, so imagine what we can do with a legitimate No. 1 center.

Thornton: I was hurt, dick. I still had 36 points in 47 games.

Wilson: And I think he turns 45 or 50 next season.

Thornton: I turn 39 in July. Am I invisible?

Wilson: So what do you say? Do you want to come be the star center on a team that already has a strong leadership core and take a run at some Cups?

Tavares looks it Brisson. Brisson nods.

Tavares: Doug, this is everything I’ve wanted for so long. Bring forth your contract and I will sign it.

Wilson ascends the stairs to the throne, contract in hand. A safe falls from the ceiling and crushes Wilson just as he was extending the contract to Tavares.

Tavares reaches down for the contract when he notices a note on the safe. He picks it up and reads it.

“Dear John,

If you don’t want anything bad to happen, I’d make the safe decision.

Love,

Lou”

Tavares looks up at Lou, who winks at him.

Tavares: Folks, I’m signing an eight-year contract with the Islanders. Everyone go home. Thanks for coming.

A Reasonably Accurate Guess at the John Tavares Sweepstakes published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/